#this is my only attempt at cross-posting and my hopes are LOW lmao

[arlertwhore]

pairing: paige bueckers x fem! reader

warning(s): nsfw/18+, fighting (verbal/physical), toxic relationship stuff, fingering, thigh riding, pussy eating, squirting,

synopsis: the bitchy, possessive, and temperamental gf who paige thinks she can handle proves her right!

word count: 2.4k

Author Note: got my first lil hate comment the other day 😜 i feel like an actual writer now lmao! here goes draft #6, comin’ in lit 🔥

Fuck knows what you're complaining about this time. She's straight from practice — from a rigorous, exhausting, and intense practice, frustrated with her own performance, only to find you waiting at the door, already irritated about something entirely. Perhaps it was how she didn’t answer you at all today—or how you saw her looking too close for comfort to another 'fan' as she claimed, though you never trusted it—or maybe she even fucking sighed at you the wrong way upon entering through the door because the littlest of things ticked you off—you—her bitchy, demanding, and infuriatingly sexy girlfriend, whom Paige has to constantly remind herself she willingly got involved with, knowing full well she was signing up for the being the figurative property of the brattiest, bossiest, most high-maintenance girl on campus.

"Are you even listening to me?!" you fume as Paige storms past you, stripping a trail of her clothes all the way to the bathroom, letting her hair fall loose from its low bun as she saunters away from your chaos, massaging her temples.

"Seriously, Y/N, now's not the time, I gotta-" - "I don't give a fuck!" you explode, chasing after her and grabbing her arm to spin her back around. "I don't care about your shitty day or your shitty excuses. Why the fuck didn't you text me back, hm?" Paige sighs, avoiding your eyes with an air of exasperation, her gaze shifting to the ceiling in an attempt to not roll them. At her silence, you feel your anger boil over, frustration evident in the clenched fist at your sides and the tense set of your jaw. "You're the fucking worst, Paige!" you snap, "You think just because I'm understanding that means you can take pictures with all these other bitches, post all on your Instagram, but then NOT text me back!"

Paige knew she was the man, the kind of person who could handle any challenge, which is why she thought dating someone like you—a real piece of work—would be a good match. She believed you could keep her on her toes, pushing her to become mentally stronger, more confident, and dominant—qualities she hoped would shine on the court, but on days like this, when you demanded drama and chaos, she wondered if she was truly cut out for it. Her honest, no-bullshitting, no-pretense attitude of: My girlfriend is so sexy opinion? Nah. And she promptly proved that stance when she spat out, “Alright, I’m sorry, baby… Is that what you want me to say? That I’m sorry I have things to do and you act like a bitch about it?” her voice venomous and defensive, stunning you. “Man, get the fuck out of my way right now. I don’t feel like fighting with you, for real,” she demanded, trying to brush past you. You couldn’t believe she actually spoke to you like that—she was usually so considerate of your feelings. In a fit of rage, you squared up to her and pushed her back by her shoulders with a strength you didn’t know you had over the 6ft wall of strength she was. Growling, you commanded, “You’re gonna stand here until WE’RE done talking!”

Paige stands with her hands on her hips, clenching at her sides with such restraint that her basketball shorts ride up, revealing her boxers underneath. She warns, "Stop playin' with me, yo. Step aside." and as she advances again, trying to get to the bathroom door behind you, you block her path, arms crossed and eyes flashing. Sneering, you challenge defiantly, "No. What are you gonna do if I don’t step aside, P? Hm? You gonna hit me?"

She takes a deep breath, drops her head, and shakes it exasperatedly before a light chuckle escapes her, broad shoulders bouncing. “Whatever, ma,” she mutters, turning around and picking up the clothes she’d left scattered on the floor. “I’m gonna go shower at Mikayla’s — forget this.”

You don’t have enough time to be angry about her saying she’s visiting Mikayla’s house—the slut you’d warned her to stay away from. Instead, you sprint to the front door, grab her keys off the rack, and hide them behind your back. Coldly, you say, “You’re mine, Paige. Turn around and get your ass in bed, NOW! You ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

Paige knows you and your past well enough to recognize that you aren’t joking about this possessiveness. However, she’s far from intimidated at the moment. Instead of backing down or appeasing you like she usually does for her princess, she glares at you with a fiery defiance. Her voice is firm as she refutes, “Give me my keys, Y/N.”

You gaze at her, a smirk forming on your face as you watch her façade of nonchalance crumble. Her face turns a subtle red, veins bulging in her hands as she holds them open, waiting for the keys, her lips curled inward and cheeks hollowed. She stands there expectantly, like a statue, until you bristle as she seizes your wrist, slamming it against the door while reaching for the keys with her other hand. Instinctively, you counter with your free hand, pushing her away. She’s lost her calm and collected demeanor. It’s scarier how she doesn’t run but still chases you with the relentlessness of a predator. Her eyes blaze with determination as she follows your running with a steady, purposeful stride. You taunt, “Come and get it, doggy! Yeah, you little bitch!” luring her toward the bathroom, the only room in the house with a lock, and Paige knows exactly what you’re up doing. Just before you can slam the door in her face, Paige lunges for it and forces it open, stepping inside and backing you against the door. This time, she tries a different approach to get the keys—she clasps your waist, holding you in place with her knees pressed against your smaller legs, effectively immobilizing you. As she tussles with you for the keys, you keep a tight grip on them. The struggle is fierce, and you're both panting in each other’s faces, exchanging only ragged breaths. You finally manage to break free from the bathroom and run for the bedroom with Paige hot on your heels. As you glance over your shoulder to see where she’s at, you realize too late that she’s no longer focused on reclaiming her keys. With a swift tackle, she takes you down onto the bed, pinning you there and forcing you into submission. The keys fall out of your hand, but Paige remains on top of you, her anger unrepairable as she growls, “Wanna bitch at me like that when I’m tired?” Her big hands begin to untie your nightrobe. “Wanna piss me off when I’m trying to be nice about things?”

She moves with an almost animalistic quality, yanking you down the bed by your legs and sending your clothes flying off with the force of her pull, baring your body to her hungry blue eyes. She hisses against your neck, “Little bitch?” and you nod rebelliously, “Yeah..fuck,” you heave, “look at you, so pissed, hm?” Her words are unbearably sexy when she vows, “I’ll show you a little bitch.” Mere moments later, she’s seated on the edge of the bed, with you draped over her lap like a ragdoll. You’re writhing, still trying to resist, biting and clawing at her thighs, but Paige’s grip is unyielding. Under her strength, you’re completely powerless.

Her hands spread your ass open, giving her a clear view of your dripping pussy. She chuckles cockily, the smirk evident in her voice even though you're not looking at her when she drawls, “This is why you’re really bitchin’ out, huh, ma?”

You whine at her words, stuttering and squirming, “Let me go, Paige, f-fuck!”

She tuts dismissively. “Aw, but that’s not what you really want, baby... you just need this pussy fucked, don’t you? To get fucked back to your senses—make you my good girl again, my princess...” she purrs, her fingers sliding through your slick and teasing your asshole. Then you hear the dirtiest, most sinful suck of fingers in her mouth you’ve ever heard.

Hips arched high with her strong arm restraining you from running, pressed firmly into your lower back, punching pressure deep within and outside of you, all aligning on the inside, she works her fingers into your soaking wet cunt with precision. She curls and bruises against your walls, relentlessly hitting that spot that makes you squirm like a torture puppet and cry out, "Ah!" for your dear life.

Her smarmy, taunting response? “I know, baby, I know, fuck… too tight for it, I know,” she bellows, feeding off your whimpers and whines with a sadistic delight. That smirk on her face—the one you wish you hadn't turned back to see—tells you she's savoring this victory a little too much and has no intention of letting you go anytime soon, even if you've clearly accepted that you're the little bitch. “Please,” you plead, sinking your nails into her thigh, but it doesn’t seem to perturb her in the slightest—if anything, it only eggs her on, makes her devilishly speed up. “It won’t happen again—I-I won’t act like a bitch anymore, daddy, I’m sorry,” you submit, hoping for some mercy, but she’s unforgiving. She chuckles darkly, yanking you up by your hair so you’re forced to look her in the eye, even if hers aren’t fully focused on yours, watching how your tits bounce as she fucks you senseless. “One more time,” she stares at them, biting her bottom lip with a smirk before she refocuses and demands it sternly. Without hesitation, you repeat it louder before she even finishes her command: “I won’t act like a bitch anymore, daddy, I’m sorry!” She smirks, her grip tightening. "I know you won't. Not after I'm done with you." She releases your head, and you fall forward hard, your back arching under what feels like tons of weight as she drives into you overwhelmingly, making you cry out in shock. "Shit!" you gasp, involuntarily pushing back against her long fingers to soften the blow and the jam, so forcefully that your ass claps with each thrust as she fucks into you.

“Say my name, baby, who’s fucking you,” Paige demands. You groan, clenching around her thick, long fingers and spilling spurts of slick arousal as you pant, “You, Daddy!” Paige tilts her head, unsatisfied. “Nah.” Her hand, once forcing down your back, quickly wraps around your throat, clasping firmly as she whispers, “Tell me, Ma.” With the blonde holding you tightly, despite your attempts to escape, with no leverage, she easily grips you by the throat like a puppet, forcing you back onto her fingers with insane speed and force. She thrusts into you even faster, your clit now grinding against her thigh. You hike a leg up in a desperate attempt to run or crawl away, but she's got you firmly in place.

“Paige! Paige, Paige, Paige, you’re fucking me!” you cry out.

“And you like it, baby? Like how my fingers feel fucking that tight pussy?” she taunts, flexing her leg muscles and increasing the friction.

“Aww shit,” you moan strainedly, feeling the familiar coil in your stomach emerge. Your body still tries to crawl away, but your brain forces you to stay put, losing all the air inside you.

“Stop fucking running, ma, take it,” she commands. “Take it, baby, just cum for me, kay? Cum for me, give me your cum.”

You listen to the sound of your cunt, feel it pulsing and clenching around her fingers before you give up and stop fighting and allow all the pleasure crash over you, your body convulsing as your orgasm hits. You gasp and cry out, surrendering to the intense sensation as your cunt tightens rhythmically around her fingers, your clit throbbing against her thigh. She fucks you through your orgasm, continuing even after that, giving you no recovery time, no chance to catch your breath before she has you on your back, legs still spread and a wet mess beneath you. Leaning in, she murmurs, “Be good for me, be still, kay? Let me clean you up—jus' lemme taste you, baby.”

Your hand comes up to cover your face, crying out as you feel her tongue glide through your folds. Gripping onto her hair tightly, you sob—a genuine cry from the overstimulation. Through your tears, you manage to gasp, “Fuck, baby, it hurts so good, ugh!”

You shout and clamp your legs shut, burying her with a guttural scream once her fingers scissor your folds and hold them open, her tongue flicking exactly against your clit, making direct contact.

She pries your legs open inhumanly, like an uncaring monster, her voice resounding and vibrating in your cunt, "Hold your ankles in the air." a command.

You obey, and she’s even nice enough to help, her strong arms holding your legs apart as she laps and slurps up all your cum like she’s parched, her swallows audible and incredibly sexy.

You look down at her and watch her head shake around wildly, losing herself in the abyss, entranced. You try to push her away by bucking into her face, hands occupied, but you end up unintentionally pushing her closer instead. You whine out desperately, your toes, nipples, and cunt especially on fire. "Pl-PLEASE!" you gasp, "I c-can't, I’m gonna—" Her fingers replace her tongue on your clit, while her tongue dips inside you as she murmurs, "Mhm," You cover your face, and the last thing you hear before you pass out is the frantic noise of her tongue fighting to slip even deeper inside you. There’s the sound of a leak, then the subsequent opening of your eyes after what feels like days. You look down at your girlfriend to find her face glistening in a pool of arousal, juices smeared everywhere. Her first instinct? To lick around her mouth, trying to savor the taste as she smiles at you smugly, knowing she’s clearly gotten her point across to your fucked-out self.

Needless to say, Paige has proven herself to you as she knew she would always: she is NOT someone to be underestimated.

MASTERLIST

AUTHOR NOTE #2: uhh so i reread this and i just wanna know if anybody else reading this who writes, is it crazy i reread my own work and blush at it like a viewer 😅 am i a freak guys 😅😅😅 do you do that too?? ANYWAY GUYS PLS INTERACT WITH ME ILY ALL MWAH!

[levi501ackerman]

That Day | Levi x Reader Angst

masterlist

Summary: Ever since That Day . . . Anytime you became lucid, Levi spent all the time with you that you could offer him.

Word Count: 10.1k ( about 50 mins to read)

Megan's Note: This popped into my head the other day and I had tunnel vision to write this. I have written 90% of Part 3 of Allegiance. I decided to write this in one part and it's not entirely proof read cuz now that I am done I need to focus on finals LMAO. Posted: 5/2/24

TRIGGER WARNING: torture, scars, mentions of underweight. (please lmk if there's anything else I should add because I've never written anything this dark.) It's supposed to be angsty AF. Please know I did my best and I understand for having medical stuff wrong or something unrealistic. Enjoy and lmk if you cried cuz I cried.

“This will not be discussed again,” Levi said firmly to the girl in front of his desk. She was frustrated and tearing up. Her dark hair was long and the girl had her arms crossed. Levi started pretending to read, hoping the girl would get the idea to leave. Annoyance crept up because the girl was still in front of Levi. He had nothing left to say. “Please, leave. I don’t want to discuss anything un-scout-related with you.” The girl sighed and headed toward the door. Before she could get near the threshold, there was a knock from outside.  

“Captain Levi, It’s Eren Jaeger.” The voice said behind the door. The girl glanced at Levi and then opened the door for him. Eren’s eyebrows were furrowed and raised, his eyes alert. Then suddenly dropped to confusion, “Oh hey Grace,” She walked passed without greeting him. Eren’s anxious tone returned, he was slightly sweaty and out of breath from dashing to the Captain’s office. “It’s Y/N. She’s lucid.” Levi looked at Eren, he slowly started rising from his desk. Engaged and forgetting anything else he was focused on. 

Hange and Moblit with a clipboard stood against the wall in an attempt to stay out of the way. They were quietly listening to the girl behind the curtain groan. A nurse could be heard trying to get the girl to drink water, but she kept rejecting the offer. The girl kept mentioning how cold she was. Hange had not visited Y/N in a few weeks. At the end of each lucid episode, it was filled with nothing but frustration and guilt. If only things went differently. Levi and a few others should be here any moment. The door opened and Sasha entered, quietly. She knew the protocol, she stood next to Moblit near the door and silently greeted Hange and Moblit. 

“NO! No, please! I don’t want shots!” Hange could hear you hoarsely beg. Hange breathed deeply. She thought to herself, you’re in the room. We are safe. “Can we wait?! Please, no!” You screamed. Behind the curtain, the nurse softly reassured you and asked you to lower your voice. 

“I think we’ll start as normal, have Doctor Winston Yates and Levi assess Y/N, and go off based on this first hour,” Hange whispered. Moblit and Sasha nodded. “I assumed Mikasa has been reminded of her role?” Sasha nodded again. The door opened again and Dr. Yates walked in. He gave Hange, Sasha, and Moblit a thumbs-up with a big smile. The older man brought a warm presence. He lively strode behind the curtains.

“Y/N! Good to see you awake . . . she’s on IV fluids?” He loudly greeted you. 

“Yes,” the nurse said. 

“Tell me how you feel right now, don’t hold back on me!” His chuckle is probably what you needed to hear. You didn’t hear much laughter anymore. 

“I’m tired . . .” You said softly. The door opened once again with Levi hastily entering the room, he glanced at the three and then went behind the curtain. Eren entered and held the door until it closed with a quiet click. “Levi!” You said and Levi sat in the chair next to your bed. You reached out your hand. He sat down and with a soft embrace he held your hand. 

“Y/N, how do you feel?” He asked in a low voice. 

“Good, I want to sit outside.” Levi smiled and Dr. Yates and the nurse laughed.

“That’s what we want to hear!” The nurse said.

“We can go outside, later,” Levi assured.

“We need to give her a shot, she’s on her usual IV with concentrated vitamins and minerals.” The nurse said lowly to Levi and Dr. Yates. You panicked and jerked away from the nurse. You couldn’t get far with the straps still clamping down your ankles. But you moved as close to Levi as you could. He wrapped an arm around you and then looked you in the eyes.

“Just a shot it’ll be over really quick.” Levi whispered.

“I’ll need her arm.” Levi freed you and held your hand with both of his. The nurse rubbed your arm and you felt the cool sensation. You closed your eyes. “Okay and you’re done.” 

“What!? I didn’t even feel it,” You said.

“There you go! Next time, bump her TPN to 2 liters,” Dr. Yates said, looking at your arms. 

“See nothing to worry about.” Levi said and you smiled at him. “Let’s brush your teeth and clean yourself a little then we can sit outside.” 

5th Debriefing Session:

Hange glanced at her notes before speaking. She sat in a comfortable chair at a table where the survey corps typically held meetings. Dr. Yates, Levi, Commander Erwin and Moblit sat at the table and turned their attention to Hange. Hange hated the debriefings. All of them did They only happened at the end of your lucid episodes. 

“According to this recent episode, Y/N stayed lucid for four days. Her 2nd longest lucid. This time she was showing a more closed off demeanor. She only wanted to socialize with Levi, Sasha Brause, Dr. Yates, and Eren Jaeger. She was opposed to physical touch except for Levi . . .” She looked at her clipboard and sniffled. “My hypothesis was correct that when Y/N showed signs of starting to revert and feel triggered, Sasha’s presence made Y/N feel safe. Twice during this episode, Y/N started screaming and Sasha was introduced and Y/N appeared to calm down and eventually went back to a neutral state. And like Dr. Yates mentioned in his therapy debriefing, Y/N is showing signs of improvement.”

“Day by day. She’s getting better,” Dr. Yates said to Levi. Levi was looking down at his lap. He hated these sessions too even though they were important. Though he did recognize signs of improvement, he felt defeated every time you got triggered. Guilt shredded him, as he went through the past seven months without you fully. Levi wanted you to live life with him.

“White pants or black pants?” Levi asked you, holding up both pairs. 

“Black.” For the first month after That Day, the pinstriped scars on your legs triggered you. As they healed and were less bloody, scabby and painful they didn’t visually trigger you anymore. That was the first success from Dr. Yates working with you. Levi went behind the curtain and pulled it behind him to give you some privacy. It was now only you two in the cold room. When you pulled back the curtain slowly you let out an unsure sound. “Um . . .” Levi looked over at you looking down at your big pants. His heart dropped, but wasn’t going to let you see his disappointment in you losing more weight.

“We’ll eat soon. Try rolling it.” He said.

“What?” He approached you and grabbed the pants and folded it down so the waist wouldn’t fall down. Levi couldn’t help but catch your eyes. He wanted to kiss you, but to him you were so fragile. You kissed him on the cheek and it elated him how lovingly you were this time. He wrapped one arm around you and squeezed you.

4th Debriefing Session:

 “Y/N’s overall behavior this episode . . .” Hange said and then let out a sigh. “Was . . .” 

“Aggressive.” Levi said. 

 Hange held two bowls of hearty soups with bread. One bread had an excessive amount of butter on it and in one of the bowls there was extra oil in the soup. She carefully walked with the meals in her hand. Moblit was next to her with the clipboard. 

“With the extra butter and oils, I’d track probably a thousand calories for this meal. If we can get her to eat again later, I’ll call that a success.” Hange said and Moblit was writing on the clipboard in his hand. They walked outside of the dining hall and saw you and Levi in the distance. You were sitting on a bench under a tree facing away. 

“Section Commander, her bread is as wet as the soup.” Moblit said, eyeing the pound of butter on your slice of bread. 

“ . . . I’ll do anything to have her be healthy again . . .” Hange said. Birds flew away from the tree Levi and you were sitting under. She sighed. Moblit looked at her and recognized her anguished expression.

“Don’t be hard on yourself. Torture trauma could take multiple years to recover from . . .” Moblit said.

“ . . . I just think about . . . only if . . .” Hange stared at the grass in front of her. Then she recognized the beauty of that moment. You were lucid and cooperative. Moblit was right to not be hard on herself. It was a good day because of the sun and the slight breeze. It has been Months since you were outside. Not only that, you wanted to go outside. Inbetween most of your lucid episodes, you were sedated, because you wouldn’t stop screaming or kicking. Your vocal cords would get shredded and you would lose your voice. “Good Morning, Levi! Y/N! Are you hungry?” Hange found it deep inside her to sound joyful. You whipped your head around toward the voice. You gasped excitedly and jogged toward Hange. Levi walked toward the three after.

“For me?” You asked.

“If you won't eat it, I will.” Hange bent a little to your height with a smile. Levi took the two bowls from Hange. When the food was out of the way you hugged Hange and she froze out of shock then embraced you lovingly. She hadn’t received a hug from you in a while. You seemed excited for her to be around. You hugged for more than five seconds and when you realized Hange wasn’t going to pull away you did.

“Thank you for the food!” You said, “Come sit with us!” You grabbed Hange’s wrist and pulled her toward the bench. “You too Moblit”. When you looked back, you saw him writing on his clipboard and then he grinned at you. When you got to the bench Levi handed you the bowl with the extra oils and butter. “Oh . . . I don’t think there’s room on the bench.” You scooted all the way next to Levi and assessed if Hange could fit in the small space. 

“Oh no worries—”

“Levi, get up.” You said and he obeyed, which Hange laughed. Levi faced you while still standing next to you. He didn’t want to leave your presence or miss anything you did. Hange sat down next to you. 

“She’s been asking about you,” Levi said to Hange then sipped his soup. Hange was certainly intrigued especially since the last time was not a good experience with you. She felt a sliver of hope.

“Have you been missing me?!” She asked. It was an eye opener for her, the last two months were not physically good for your health. Her heart dropped analysing you, you were skinny, looked dull and genuinely tired. She regretted not visiting you enough.

“Yes, I feel so . . . out of it. Like I woke up from the longest dream . . .” You said. Then took a spoonful of soup making sure to get a little bit of the chicken onto the spoon. 

“She was talking about the time you were teaching her how to braid hair.” Levi said. 

“Hmm. Are you sure that was me?” Hange asked.

“Oh well, I thought it was you, maybe not.” You laughed. 

“Hey, eat before it gets cold,” Levi said, tapping your ankle lightly with his foot.

“Yeah. Yeah. I just want to talk to Hange.” You said.

“Awe, you’re so cute. But Levi’s right, you wouldn’t want your food to get cold.” Hange said.  

“Could you have put any more butter on this bread?” You laughed and Hange laughed it off.

“Try it like this,” She took your bread and dunked it in the soup. The bread was dripping in broth, butter and oil. You took the soaked bread and attempted to take a bite out of it without dripping on yourself. 

5th Debriefing Session:

“Yes, day by day, Y/N is getting better. My only concern is that she stopped having an interest in eating. Levi informed me that she would push around her food and barely drink water. I sat a table over and noticed two evenings in a row she only took a few bites.” Hange read from her notes. “However, I noticed the start of a trend. She always finished a bowl of soup. Perhaps at least one of the meals for the day needs to be soup.”

“We can start a total parenteral nutrition IV when sedated. Then adjust the dosage.” Dr. Yates said and wrote the note down. 

“Great. Another thing I wanted to talk about which I mentioned before was her social behavior . . .” Hange took a deep breath then focused on her notes. “Y/N had a small improvement from her last episode. This episode Y/N wasn’t against socializing. Besides the few previously mentioned she seemed fearful or hesitant around some friends. I do not want to describe her as shy, just . . . disinterested.” Hange choked and then took another deep breath.

Levi stared at the books on the bookshelf. He couldn’t look at his friend.

“How are you?” You asked Levi. “You are more quiet today.” He smiled, grabbed your hand and lifted to kiss the back of your palm. The four of you were on a short walk. You were unknowingly walking toward your next few tests. Hange was on the other side of you with Moblit on her side. A few scouts would walk past and greet Levi. He ignored them.

“I’m at peace being with you.” He said softly knowing moments are fleeting. You thought he was being cute. You stepped in front of him, wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him. It took him by surprise. But you were giving him a pleasure he wasn’t going to deny. He kissed you again, deeply and he thought how there is just no one else in his life he wanted. Levi was willing and planning on being patient for the time it took you to heal. Years. Decades. You made it through That Day. Levi knew you were worth the time to heal. He knew that healing was not linear. He intended to be with you for all of your moments. He remembered something and reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out your ring. “I cleaned it.” He grabbed your left hand and slid the ring on your left ring finger. Then he warmly smiled at you, gazing at his special girl. “Someday when you are healthy, we’ll get married . . .” Levi realized they were out in the open in public and glanced towards Moblit and Hange. Moblit was writing on his clipboard and Hange was acting like the bowls she was holding was the most interesting thing. He clasped your hand and continued walking, Hange and Moblit slowly trailed behind you. 

When you got closer to the entrance of the dining hall the more noise you could hear. There were scouts laughing with each other. Some people standing in groups talking to each other. Some were out in the front enjoying the sun. A few people grouped in the front. Some faces you recognized but you haven’t ever conversed with. It was getting louder as you approached the threshold. A girl with pretty dark hair caught your eye.

“Mikasa?” You asked a little unsure. The girl’s eyebrows raised and her eyes were wide. “Mikasa Ackerman?” She stepped closer to you. Hange, Moblit and Levi could see Mikasa’s eyes start to gloss over. 

“Y/N . . .” Mikasa said calmly. 

“I haven’t seen you in a long time,” You hugged her and she hugged you back tightly. Mikasa didn’t want to let go. She kept blinking, but her eyes were filling up with tears. You pulled away, “How are you?” You asked brightly. “Keeping Eren out of trouble?” She smiled through her tears. “ . . . What’s wrong?” 

“We haven’t seen each other in a while. It’s happy tears.” She sniffled and you laughed. 

“You look sad,” You said and touched her hair. 

“I have something for you . . .” Mikasa gently went through a small bag she usually did not have with her. 

“What is it, Mikasa?” Hange asked.

“She got me a present!” You said excitedly. Mikasa found what she was looking for. She gently brought out paper that was folded twice. 

“I found this a few weeks ago and I want you to have it.” She handed you the folded paper and you hesitantly took it. You carefully unfolded the paper. On the paper was a drawing of three girls. You gasped. It was a drawing of Mikasa, Sasha and you and the background you could tell was your room from your cadet days. Mikasa sniffled, blinked back tears, and quietly took a deep breath. “Remember? Jean drew us and Sasha when we were roommates in the cadet corp.” The drawing of you and your friends was done in pencil, but along the edge of the paper were names written in ink. In elegant penmanship was written: Mikasa, Sasha and Y/N. “I had it all these years, but I think you should have it.” Your heart felt like it was swelling in your chest. How could you not? You thought of the fun times you and Mikasa would plug Sasha’s nose when she was sleeping. She would swat and roll over leaving you and Mikasa giggling. You thought of the time when you peed your pants because Sasha made you laugh so hard. Another memory of Mikasa teaching Sasha how to braid hair and she tried it on you and put knots in your hair. Mikasa had to cut your hair. It ended up so badly that Mikasa braided your hair for the last year of the cadet corp. You thought of the time you stole Mikasa’s shirt for the day then when heading to bed your mattress was gone. Mikasa was like the sister you always wanted. You hugged Mikasa and she let a tear fall. She closed her eyes and enjoyed that moment. 

“ . . . You’re the one that taught me how to braid hair . . . This is so sentimental, Thank you.” You said and when you pulled away you analysed the drawing again. “Hey, how's Jean? I’m surprised I haven’t seen him yet . . . Where’s Eren? He’s usually . . .” You froze, you felt cold. You felt sick. Why did you feel scared? Mikasa stared back at you, her eyes grew bigger. 

“Y/N.” Levi grabbed your arm and held your head while embracing you. 

“How do you feel? Tell me your thoughts.” Hange said worryingly. She tugged on your shirt gently. You stared off and then you looked at Mikasa.

“I was just . . . wondering where Eren was . . . you two are usually together.” You said dazed and confused. 

“Let’s sit down . . .” Levi said and you stared at Mikasa. She was still in her stance. She looked at you carefully, she didn’t want to frazzle you. Though this moment for her was fleeting, she looked at you and appreciated that you were alive and lucid.

“Do you want to sit with me?” You asked Mikasa. More tears streamed down her face with a smile. 

3rd Debriefing Session:

“There’s not a clear indication why Y/N’s long term memory was affected. There are gaps—not remembering long term friendships, routines, and some milestone events. But with this episode lasting 28 days and with the evidence that over time her health did improve over the 28 days.” Dr. Yates said. Levi stared at the books he always did. The survey corps went on a large scale planned expedition and unfortunately, you became lucid the morning they left. 19 days they were gone. Apparently, you kept asking for Levi. You were a little moody sitting in the medical room not being allowed to do much. You asked to go outside, but once you were outside you just wanted to go back in. 

Levi was pissed when the survery corp returned and he received the message that you’ve been lucid since they left. He wasn’t there for the longest time you were lucid and he didn’t know how much time he had left. When he did return to you, you became happier and so you started becoming healthier. Dr. Yates let you stay with Levi for a couple nights. 

While staring at the books, his mind ended up thinking about one of the nights of you staying with him. You were on top of Levi practically begging to have sex. He thought about how you kissed his neck and palmed him teasing him with pleasure. You two haven’t had sex since before That Day. He rubbed your thigh gently, he tried to pretend he didn’t feel your pinstriped scars. You ran your hand through his hair, pleading with him to touch you. Levi felt like he was taking advantage of you and suggested going to bed. 

“I suggest we can add a couple tests when she’s lucid.” Hange’s bright tone pulled Levi away from the thought of you. 

“What are you thinking?” Commander Erwin asked. 

“Since Y/N could not recognize Mikasa Ackerman, even though she should have for knowing her for so long. They were roommates along with a few others including Sasha Braus since the Cadet Corp. We could have Mikasa walk by Y/N and see if she reacts, says hello or recognizes her slightly. If she doesn’t we could try having Mikasa approach her and have a light conversation to jog her memory. 

“Another thing I noticed was Y/N feels calm around Sasha Braus. Whether it's because they are long term friends or because of That Day. According to Sasha, she was the one that killed Hecate when she was torturing Y/N. We could conclude that subconsciously Y/N remembers Sasha saving her.

“One last hypothesis. I was thinking if Eren Jaeger was around Y/N. She would not think about where Eren could be as that was the information Hecate was trying to get from us.” Hange suggested. “I recognize these ‘tests’ do require the efforts of others, that are not mandatory. But I know they would want to help Y/N.” 

“How long do you think expect her friends to help her?” Commander Erwin asked. 

“With all due respect, I am not the doctor. I am just summarizing her social behavior. I can only help, but I can not solve anything.” Hange said and then there was silence in the room. A sense of apprehensiveness to speak. They were ignoring what needed to be said. 

“ . . . Levi, there’s a hospital in the capital that specializes—”

“Are you suggesting shipping off Y/N? She was lucid for almost a month. She’s improving.” Levi said sharply. Erwin let out a deep breath and decided to pin that suggestion for later. 

Your fourth lucid episode was two months after. Levi was worried that you were slowly dying and not going to have another lucid episode. When you did . . . it was the worst behavior to deal with. Hange and Levi had to restrain you while Moblit attempted to sedate you with a syringe. You scratched Hange’s face with your engagement ring.

As the day went on you felt tired. Though you did enjoy hanging and conversing with Mikasa, Eren and Armin. You were starting to feel out of it. Dinner was starting to be served and more of your friends came into the dining hall. 

“If I get you food will you eat it?” Levi asked.

“I’m just tired.” You said. It felt like a long day. Your social battery was starting to become drained. 

“You should eat, Y/N” Eren said. 

“Yeah we’re all going to get food. I think there’s soup.” Armin added. 

“I already had soup today.” You said, lethargically

“Are you saying F/N L/N has a limit on soup?!” A bright voice said behind you. You turned around and a jolt of energy burst from you as you sprung up to hug Sasha.

“SASHA!” Levi and Hange laughed. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while!”

“Is soup all you had today?” Sasha asked, but it seemed like she was more asking Hange. 

“I would like for her to eat more.” Hange said to Sasha. 

“Then let’s get in line I’m starving” Sasha grabbed your wrist and you guys went into the line. 

During dinner, Levi’s heart swelled watching you be with your friends. It was the first in a while where you were smiling and laughing with them. Jean told stupid jokes that made you laugh hard. You laughed so hard you cried. Sasha gave you some of her soup so you could eat more. Armin didn’t say much, but he enjoyed seeing you alive and healthy. Levi thought your smile was so warm and watching you from where he sat it was like he was seeing you for the first time again. 

Your laugh, your smile and you being with your friends. Levi remembers being so shy and nervous to talk to you. Your courage and initiation to talk to Levi is what started the relationship. He glanced at the ring on your finger. He just knew. Denied it to himself, Levi thought he was ridiculous for knowing he was going to marry you only after interacting with you a limited amount of times. But you were just so considerate of him and caring for him. He never had someone like him for him. He closed his eyes and tried not to cry. He was grateful you were in his life. Levi was going to be by yourside for the entire time you needed to heal. He will marry you. 

“Levi? Are you okay?” Hange asked. He opened his eyes and saw you intently listening to Eren’s story. 

“I just . . . want to marry her.” He said.

After you were done eating. You braided Sasha’s hair and then Mikasa stood behind you and braided yours. You french braided Sasha’s and Mikasa was also giving you a french braid. When you and Mikasa were done braiding. Mikasa sat down in front of you and you started braiding her hair. 

“Hange! I could braid your hair!” Sasha turned excitedly to Levi and Hange’s table. Hange raised her eyebrows.

“No! I want to braid her hair!” You said to Sasha.

“Oh come on please!” Sasha begged. 

“HANGE LET US BRAID YOUR HAIR! YOU WOULD LOOK SO CUTE WITH PIGTAILS. ” You demanded and Levi laughed. You dropped her hair and walked over to Hange, you started pulling her wrist but she was holding onto the table. “SASHA GRAB HER OTHER WRIST!” Sasha laughed and you both pulled Hange over to the other table. 

“Fine! Just normal, nothing fancy.” Hange appeased and sat down at your table. 

“You braid Mikasa’s hair. I want to do Hange’s.” You said. Then you started pulling out her ponytail and brushing it with your fingers. “Jeez, your hair is knotty.” Levi smiled. You braided her hair into pigtails and looked over at Sasha braiding Mikasa’s hair. “You look so cute, Mikasa!” Mikasa blushed. “Awe Hange you look so cute, too!” 

“We’ll all have braided hair, now!” Sasha said excitedly. 

“Jean needs to draw us!” You said. “Quick, we need to get a pencil and paper!” Jean froze with a spoon almost to his mouth. 

“When did I sign up for this?” He laughed. 

“Just do a quick one!” Mikasa said. Molblit handed Jean a blank sheet of paper and his pencil. He smiled. He did want to remember this moment. 

“Okay bunch up. Have Sasha and Hange stand behind you two.” You and Mikasa had an arm around each other and Hange and Sasha hugged you two from behind. It took a little, but you still chatted and talked with the rest of the table. Except for when Jean asked you all to smile. Then he let you get out of the pose. He continued drawing though and after a while he folded the paper twice. Then licked among the folds and split the paper into four. “Ladies of the braid. I have your drawing.” Jean handed Mikasa a fourth of a paper with a drawing of the four of you with your braids. Then handed you another fourth with the same drawing copied over. 

“Jean, you drew it four times?” You asked and Jean handed the last fourths of the paper to Hange and Sasha. The four of you lined up the drawings you received by the ripped folds. You all had the same drawing of the four of you smiling with your hair in braids. 

“You’re an amazing artist, thank you, Jean.” Hange said admiring the drawing. 

“Thanks, Jean!” Sasha brightly said. Mikasa picked up the pencil Jean was using from the table. 

“Y/N, hand me your drawing really quick.” She put your drawing on the table and wrote something on an open space of the drawing. Then she gave you the paper back. You looked at what Mikasa wrote. In elegant penmanship was written: Sasha, Hange, Mikasa and Y/N. 

“You have such nice handwriting, Mikasa.” You said and she smiled hopefully at you. Then you hugged Jean and thanked him for the drawing. You happily strolled to Levi and showed him the drawing. It was like the drawing Hange showed him a moment ago. Except yours had the names written. Levi recognized it was the same handwriting from the other drawing. 

5th Debriefing Session:

“We need to have a tough conversation,” Commander Erwin started. “When looking at the big picture of Y/N’s health. We are nearing the 6th month mark . . . Levi, the Survey Corps can only do so much . . . evaluating her when the one year mark—” Levi abruptly stood up with a loud screech from his chair. He began to walk toward the doors. “Hange wants to help Y/N! Her friends want to and are willing to help, but—” Levi ripped the door open.

“If you want to send her to a hospital in Mitras. Honorably discharge me. I’ll go with my wife.” Levi slammed the door. 

“Okay Hange. Yeah, okay.” Levi closed the door on Hange. He just wanted to spend some alone time with you. You carefully walked to the table while holding two cups of tea and gently on the table. For a moment you reminded him of his mother. You were so elegant and when you smiled at Levi his felt happy that you were his. He had love in his life and he was going to take care of you just like you have always taken care of him. He fondly looked at you and then he approached you and hugged you. You were his just like he knew he was yours. No matter what. “Sit, I want to get something.” He said and went off to the corner where he had a small bookshelf. He grabbed a leatherbound journal and a pencil. He put it in front of you. “Here.” You stared at it.

“What—”

“Remember it’s your journal. You haven’t written in it in a long time though. I want you to write an entry.” Levi gently said then he grabbed the drawing Jean gave you and he leaned it against some books on the bookshelf. 

“Oh yeah . . . I forgot . . . I used to write everyday. I had like 8 journals . . .” You trailed off.

“Yea, you wanted to keep a record of your life. Maybe write how you feel or just what went on today. I think the last entry you wrote was near when we got engaged.” Levi said. 

“ . . .we’re engaged?” You asked confused. Levi closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He tried to keep the mood light.

“Just a little entry.” He sat down next to you and sipped on his tea carefully. You smiled and started writing about your day. “Then we could go to sleep early.” Levi enjoyed sleeping with you because he had poor sleeping habits. But when you slept next to him he got a few more hours. He gave you a kiss on the cheek and you turned to kiss him again on the lips. His admiration for you only grew watching you write in your journal. These little moments are everything he has to accept for now.

“I don’t know what else to write . . .” You said lightly. Thoughts came into your mind and then disappeared. “I’m sorry.” Levi offered you his hand and when you took he gently helped you stand up and walked towards the bed. He then held your hand to his heart.

“Let’s lay down.” Levi said.

“Can I have a back massage?” You ask. Levi does his best to give you a shoulder massage, he carefully does his best to not hurt you, but he wants to relieve you of all pain. Levi tried to be as careful because to him you were so delicate and fragile looking. He wanted you to relax and be with him.  

“Is this okay . . .?” He asked.

“Keep going.” You ordered and he obeyed then smiled. He moved down your back, pressing little circles into your back and along your spine. 

“Let’s go brush our teeth and go—” Levi said, pulling away. 

“No more.” You put his hand back on your shoulders. He gave you a couple more seconds of massaging.

“Okay no more, your majesty.” He said. You jumped on him which took him by surprise. You attempt to pin him down on the bed and Levi let you. You kissed his forehead and he looked up at you fondly. Youre eyes looked so pretty. You trailed your hands slowly on Levi’s chest, feeling his carved muscles. You placed one of his hands on your thighs and you ran your fingers in his hair. To Levi you are everything. He reached towards your face and then touched your braid. “Let’s go to sleep.” You kissed him and fisted his shirt. Levi pulled away, “Y/N . . .”

“Please . . .” you mewled into his ear softly, knowing this is what gets to him. You put more pressure on him, feeling him getting harder. You tucked some of his fringe behind his ears. You looked into his steel grey eyes and the eye contact was making you feel heat in yourself, you haven’t felt in a while. You grinded your hips and Levi was starting to breathe heavily. “ . . . Levi,” you moaned, you knew it drove him crazy. “I love you so much.”

“I’m in love with you.” Levi said to you. You looked so pretty.  

“We haven’t . . . made love in a while.” You said and continued to grind on him and Levi was thinking of the pleasure’s he could have with you. He hasn't felt your body in a long time and Levi wanted to feel you wrapped around him. He wanted to hear you whimper in his ear. But clarity came to the forefront. 

“I can’t take advantage of you . . .” He said quietly.

“You’re not, I want you.” You started taking off your shirt. Levi stopped you. Pulling your shirt down. He sat up and hugged you, smelling you. 

“Y/N I can’t . . . please let’s go to sleep.” You pulled away and gave him another kiss.

“Ok.” 

When you slept next to Levi, he felt it easier to relax. His muscles untensed and he found it easier to fall asleep. Levi had terrible sleeping habits before you and when you slept next to him for the first time he realized you helped him. He slept a good six hours with you next to him. Levi realized you brought him a sense of peace and you always were positive and good natured. 

You always had taken good care of him, sometimes he saw his mom in you. You reminded him that he was worthy of love and he saw you as someone who wanted to give love to your friends. He admired that you made friends wherever you went. He knew how much your friends love you and you saw them as your family. Your kind heart is what drew people in. Levi was glad you had a large support system, something he didn’t have in life. He recognized that he wanted to marry you when he realized that you made up an entire family for him. He trusted that you would always be there for him and you were so supportive and loving. You made him laugh so much, feeling joy in life. 

Levi half asleep rolled over, he felt the bed empty. He sat up and he was alone. He heard you in the dark room whimpering quietly. He saw your dark silhouette on the floor against the wall. His heart dropped, more time he begged.

“Please,” you begged quietly. Levi cautiously approached you. “No, please don’t” You said as he got closer. He grabbed a syringe off of the table. 

“Y/N. It’s Levi.” He said almost pleading.

“NO!” You pleaded. Holding your hand out to him as if that was going to stop him. He started to feel tears in his eyes, this was the first time he had to do this alone. There was a hope that you just had a bad nightmare and you needed comfort.

“Come back to me . . .” He said. You screamed loudly and it pierced his ears. He had to jump on you. You thrashed and one of his tears landed on you. You slapped him and pushed Levi. He grunted. 

“Y/N!” He said, pining one of your arms against the wall. 

“NO! PLEASE DONT!” You cried out and screamed again. Levi used his weight to hold down your legs. He set the syringe down and did his best to pull your pants down. You panicked and fought him. “STOP! I DON’T KNOW ANYTHING!” You pulled up your knee and tried to hit Levi in the croch. Levi cried. You were weak and Levi was much stronger than you. He managed to get a good surface of your thigh showing. You managed to get another slap on his face and he grunted. You screamed loudly, a cry in desperation. You whailed hoping someone would hear you and help you. 

“Please—”

“PLEASE STOP!” You screamed, he winced at the volume going into his ear. He picked up the syringed and shot it into your leg. You screamed and Levi looked at you in the eyes hoping to find you somewhere. You looked at him in desperation, pleading to spare you. Levi had to hold you down until you got physically worn out, he cried waiting for you to go unconscious. When you were weak. He hugged you, he knew you needed help. This was the life he was dealt with. 

Before he left his room, he laid you on his bed and pretended you were only sleeping. This time was so short again. What else could Levi do to help you? He knocked on the door and waited for a while. His eyes were puffy and his face was stained with tears. He knocked again and the door finally opened. Hange still had her pigtail braids in. Levi held up his empty syringe.

“Levi . . .” Hange said tiredly then she saw the syringe. 

“Y/N’s in my room.” Levi said dismaly. Hange leaned her head against the doorframe and sighed. 

“I’ll get Dr. Yates.” She said.

That Day:

They were in a large room of a house. The windows were large and revealed that there were no other buildings nearby. They were almost in the middle of nowhere. Somewhere northwest Wall Rose. One of Hecate’s men was holding a knife to Hange’s throat. Another was holding you by your waist and had a knife to your back. Levi and Erwin were on their knees and tied up. With another guy standing behind them. Hecate walked back and forth between the four of you. Her heels being the prominent sound on the hardwood floor. 

“I recognize you, scout regiment. You know where Eren Jaeger is. So which one of you is going to tell me where he is?” She said toyingly. She has been wanting to kill Eren for years. She came close to killing him twice. She played with the knife in her hand. “Commander Erwin . . . top dog. Leader of the scout regiment. Tell me.” She bent down to level with him. He stayed silent. Hecate grabbed his hair and yanked his head back then sliced into his collarbone. Erwin groaned, gritting his teeth. You grimacing looked away. 

“We don’t know where Eren is.” Erwin said lowly.

“Liar. Tell me where he is.” She said and Erwin didn’t respond. She kicked him in the balls and he let out a gutteral groan and fell on his side. The scouts were on their way, though there was no hope of getting out of the situation. They needed to get here before everyone was dead. Erwin painfully coughed. Then she walked over his body. 

“What about you?” She stood over Levi. He said nothing. You couldn’t help but watch what she was going to do to Levi. She grabbed his shirt and yanked him up. “Are you going to tell me, handsome?” You felt a rage, but your fear was more developed. You knew Levi wasn’t going to spill even if he was beaten to death. The four of you wouldn’t. She slapped Levi and you closed your eyes.

“That’s Captain Levi born from the underground. He’s not going to talk.” The guy behind Erwin and Levi gruffly said.

“Huh, that's so?” She looked at Levi and pushed him face forward to the ground. She lifted up his shirt revealing his back and dug the knife into him. “I’ll ask you one more time. Where is Eren?” You heard Levi muffly groan as Hecate dug the knife across his back. Beads of blood bursing from the cut. “Come on, Captain, I want answers.”

“I’m not answering you, bitch.” Levi spat at her. You raised your eyebows when you saw some of his blood. You wanted to tell Levi to not make her angry, but you stayed silent. She stood up from him and looked at him. 

“Huh, of course, Captain.” She kicked his face. You jerked, “I believe you.” She laughed. She glanced over at you and Hange. Your heart pulsed. She strolled over to you two while wiping her knife. “I know how the dynamics work, captain . . . your attempt to provoke me? I’ve seen it a thousand times. You’re not gonna talk.” You felt your heart in your throat when she eyes you and Hange. “But one of you will.” You kept your eyes down. She stood in front of Hange. “No need for that . . .” She said to the man holding Hange. He took the knife from her throat and put it in her back. “You’re quite pretty.” Hange scowled at her. Hecate took Hange’s glasses off then threw them on the ground then crushed her glasses with her boot. She kicked her in the stomach. She recoiled, the wind being knocked out of her and the man holding Hange caused her to not fall over. Tears started building in your eyes. “Tell me where Eren is and you and your friends will be left alone.” Hange said nothing. Hecate slapped Hange. She whimpered. “Tell me what I want to know. Where is Eren Jaeger?” Hange sniffled. Hecate breathed impatiently then looked at the ground she picked up a sharp glass edge from Hange’s glasses. Then lifted a part of her shirt and jabbed the glass into Hange’s abdomen. She cried out loudly and whimpered. Choking for air trying to regulate her breathing. Hecate walked over to you. You continued looking at the ground, noticing some blood was on her shoe. “Why are you crying? Do you not like seeing your friends get hurt?” She taunted. She slapped you. You yelped and some of your hair got in your face. “We don’t have to do this, you know. Let me know darling, where is Eren Jaeger?” You stayed silent. A tear rolled down your cheek begging that the scouts would save you four. She swiped the blade onto your collarbone. Blood drew from your cut. You moaned and whimpered. “Answer me. Or you’ll get another cut.” She grabbed you by your shirt and pointed the knife to your abdomen.

“Stop, she doesn’t know.” Hange huffed out. Hecate turned her attention on Hange. Then glanced at you.

“Bring Commander Erwin Smith over here, would you?” Hecate asked and the man brought a stumbling Erwin over in front of Hange. He made Erwin kneel. “Commander these pretty girls are your subordinates?” Erwin stayed silent looking at the ground. Hecate slapped him. “So fucking rude not to answer my question.” She went toward you and kicked you, knocking the wind out of you, making you fall to the ground. The man who was holding you put his foot on your side. You felt paralyzed and then the pain set in. “Where is Eren Jaeger? or these girls will get it.”

“I don’t know.” Erwin said.

“You do know.” Hecate said and then sliced a cut into Hange’s collar bones. She whimpered. “Tell me what I want.” She was starting to lose her patience. 

“Leave them alone, bitch,” Levi with a strained voice said. Hecate kicked you in the chest and forced you to let out a cry. 

“Say that again, Captain? I didn’t hear you. Get her up.” The man forced you to sit up. She knelt in front of you and Hange eyed both of you. You couldn’t hide your tears. “This time it’s your choice . . . which one will get my knife?” A tear dripped onto the floor in front of you. “Hmm?”  Hange swallowed and wheezed.

“Me. Just give—” Hecate cut your arm instead of Hange’s, making you shriek. You cried out, not being able to hold it in. You breathed hard. Erwin winced at the sight of you two. 

“Once again, you or you?” Hange and you stayed silent. She sighed and kicked you to the floor again. 

“She doesn’t know anything! Stop it!” Hanged yelled. Hecate grabbed Hange’s hair, forcing her head back. 

“I see . . . you care for her . . . ” She let go of Hange’s head. Then she stood in front of you. “Where’s Eren Jaeger?” She asked Hange. She then held down the same arm she cut into earlier. Hecate started cutting into your arm next to the other one. You screamed trying to thrash your legs, but the man was holding you down. When she was done slicing you, you sobbed into the floor. Hecate sighed. “Take them downstairs.” One of the man jerked you and Hange up. You couldn’t look at anyone. The one man forced Levi up and his nose was bloody. The last man got Erwin up and he was stumbling and wincing trying to keep up with the man. Hange coughed and her vision was blurry. They pulled you toward an area where the stairs went down. Levi was the first forced down the steps. “Hold on.” Everyone froze anticipating what Hecate was going to say. “I want to ask her some questions,” she pointed at you. Hange’s eyes went wide as she felt another man grabbing her. She watched as the man who was holding both of you, pushed you back towards Hecate.

“NO! WAIT! TAKE ME INSTEAD! LEAVE HER ALONE!” Hange, Erwin and Levi were pushed down the stairs by the other man. You went out of sight and Hange noticed Levi glaring at her. The men threw them in a cell, locking it and walking back upstairs. 

“Levi, untie my restraints,” Commander Erwin whispered. Levi turned around and tried his best to untie the knot while not being able to see it. Hange started crying again sitting down. Then Commander Erwin untied Levi who was pissed. He walked over to Hange and grabbed her shirt. 

“YOU IDIOT!” Levi couldn’t care about his volume. “HOW STUPID COULD YOU BE?! YOU NEVER SHOW—” Hange jerked away from his grasp.

“I WAS TRYING TO PROTECT Y/N!” Hange said harshly 

“DIDN’T WORK—”

“—I WOULD RATHER IT BE ME THAN HER!” Hange said. As Levi was about to retort back, the three of them heard you scream above them. Hange’s heart pounded and she started crying. Levi took off one of his shoes and threw it against the wall angrily. Erwin started untying Hange. She slid down the wall crouching into a ball. They could hear you begging.

“NO! NO, PLEASE!” Then they heard you scream louder. Hange put her fingers in her ears, she closed her eyes. The special operations squad should come any moment. Hange then felt a pull on her shirt, again. Levi with a bloody face and a fire in his eyes was holding her. 

“YOU FUCKING IDIOT. THE MOMENT YOU OPENED YOUR MOUTH. I KNEW THEY WOULD PICK HER!” Levi sneered.

“LEVI!” Erwin pulled Levi off Hange. Another scream was heard above.

“I was trying to get her to hurt me instead of Y/N!” Hange sobbed. 

“Because you opened your mouth she knew you cared about her! The moment you do that they’ll torture her to get you to fucking talk!” Levi said. “My fiance is going to die BECAUSE OF YOU!” He pushed Hange into the wall. 

“GET AWAY FROM HER!” Erwin asserted himself in front of Levi. “ENOUGH PULL IT TOGETHER! WE NEED TO THINK . . . let's look around and try to get out.” Levi put on his shoe and Hange covered her face, sobbing. 

“STOP! PLEASE! NO!” They heard you above them. Hange got up and started coughing. She went into the corner gagging. Hange threw up in the corner. Levi kicked the cell door, it clanked and didn’t budge. About ten minutes later. It was quiet. They didn’t hear you screaming and they didn’t hear yelling from Hecate. Suddenly they heard soft footsteps descending from the stairs. Hange’s hope rose only for it to deplete when Hecate walked up to them. The knife she was holding was covered in blood

“Comfy?” Hecate taunted. They couldn’t look at her. “Terrible of you to not do anything about your friend . . . hey gorgeous!” Hange ignored her. “Fine . . . Anyone want to tell me where Eren is?” She started backing away, smirking. “I’ll just ask your friend.” She walked back up the stairs.

“Where are they?” Hange whispered frustratedly. Levi leaned with his arm against the wall. He was facing the wall, the pressure was building in his nose and he was blinking away any tears forming in his eyes. They heard a thud and they heard you screaming above them, Hange plugged her ears. She continued crying. The three had dried blood on them and they stayed helpless in the cell. They heard you scream, beg and cry for a while longer. Hange felt paralyzed listening to you scream. She couldn’t think of a way to save you or them. To her it was her fault, she shouldve kept her mouth shut. Maybe this wouldn’t have happened if she kept her mouth shut. She hugged her knees. “I’m sorry.” She whispered. She glanced at Levi who had his forehead against his arm. In the distance they heard shattering, then some yelling. “Commander Erwin, THEY’RE HERE!” Levi turned around. There was a large boom above them and more screams and yells. Then suddenly rapid footsteps were descending the stairs. Moblit and Jean appeared. 

“Section Commander!” Moblit exclaimed then he noticed the blood on Levi’s face and Erwin’s cuts. 

“How’s Y/N?” Erwin demanded. 

“Let us out!” Hange screamed. 

“HOWS Y/N!?” Levi yelled. Jean unlocked the door with the key from one of Hecate’s men. Levi ran out of the cell and dashed up the stairs, Hange followed after him. Hecate was dead on the ground and scattered on the floor were her men. Levi saw you slumped against the wall, Sasha was holding you. You had no pants on and instead there was blood dripping on your legs. Multiple long cuts down the length of your legs. 

“Captain!” Sasha exclaimed. “Captain, her pulse is faint.” Levi caressed you. Your eyes were closed and your head was nodded out. “I think she’ll need stitches.” He shook you a little waiting for a response. He was revolted at what Hecate did to you. He let anger get to him, gritted his teeth then went over to Hecate’s dead body and kicked her four times, grunting. 

“Levi!” Hange pulled him away and Levi pushed her off of him. Hange saw Mikasa crying at the sight of you with Armin comforting you. Levi went over you and Sasha. 

“She’ll need stitches, she lost a lot of blood. We need to get her to a hospital somewhere.”

“Sasha knows how stitch wounds.” Levi said.

“I don’t have any supplies.” Sasha said defeatedly. Connie ran into the room.

“I found a small first aid kit.” Connie said, panting. “We can clean her up and use whatever we can for now.” Sasha dashed over to Connie grabbing the first aid kit. 

“Captain Levi, are you wounded? There’s a bunch of blood on your back.” Moblit asked. 

“And on my face. Y/N is more important right now.” Levi said, his voice breaking. He could not lose another person he loves. 

6th Debriefing Session:

Levi didn’t want to sit. He listened to Hange and Dr. Yates relayed the details to Commander Erwin. His time with you this time felt so short. This time was the most you, you have been since That Day. He stared at the window. Having the trees fill his vision. Watching some scouts walk by or sit on the grass. The sunset was emitting an orange sky. Your favorite. Erwin was right. 

Levi leaned his forehead against the glass and closed his eyes. There was nothing left, but to wait for the next episode. Levi didn’t mean to zone out. His frustrated thoughts were consuming him and he was with you the whole time. He was defeated and didn’t know how to take the next steps. 

It felt like there was no improvement. As he gazed out the window, there were no positive thoughts. This was the life he was dealt. He abruptly turned around making Hange pause. 

“What is it, Levi?” She asked softly. He looked at the ground while walking past the table. Pressure building in his nose, his eyes starting to gloss over. He looked over his shoulder locking eyes with Erwin who had a sympathetic expression. With everything he had in him, he tried not to break.

“Start t-the paperwork, commander,” Levi did not win. 

Three weeks later:

Hange cautiously walked into your medical room. She held the door until it closed with a quiet click. She heard faint beeping and it was quiet. She knew Levi was behind the curtain sitting with you.

“I know it’s you, four-eyes.” Levi said shakenly. Hange walked around the curtain. Levi sat in a chair next to your bed. His arms were crossed and he was leaning back into the chair comfortably. Levi’s eyes were red and puffy. He looked at Hange and she saw the desperation in his eyes. Though he was sitting, there was no one around and so she stepped forward and hugged him. Levi nuzzled his face into her shoulder. Hidden, even though there was no one to hide from. Hange softly rubbed Levi’s back. 

“In the morning, right?” She asked.

“Yes . . .'' Levi pulled away from Hange and he stared at you. You looked like you were sleeping. He stood up from his chair and offered Hange his seat. They looked at you for a while. Both filled with thoughts. One thought after another. Begged for a change of fate. “Do me a favor . . .” Levi said and Hange didn’t look at him. “Stop blaming yourself . . .'' Hange put her face into her hands. “ . . . I was an asshole that day. I was wrong for calling you an idiot. Nothing was ever your fault”

“Levi . . .” she did her best to muffle her crying. “I thought if I could make it seem like I knew where Eren was . . . they would leave her alone . . . If only they questioned me instead . . .”

“Stop talking like that.” Levi said defeatedly. “I’ve forgiven you and you need to start forgiving yourself.” She sniffled.

“I wish I wasn’t losing my best friend . . .” Hange said and they looked at each other, knowingly. Years they have relied on each other and built years of trust. “And you.” They laughed. Hange wiped a tear from her eye.  

“Y/N would want you to visit.” Hange smiled.

“She would want all her friends to visit.” Hange said thinking of Sasha, Mikasa, Armin, Eren, Jean, Connie, Christa, and anyone she saw Y/N sharing joyful moments with. Everyone liked her, even Annie. 

“You don’t need to ask, drop by when you’re available. You could stay with us.” Levi said. 

“I will . . . I want to be there with her.” Hange whispered. She gasped because she saw your hand jolt. It was more than a twitch, Hange stood up anticipating for any more movement. “Her hand moved! She can hear us.” Levi grabbed your hand and they both hovered over you. Waiting for any other sign of consciousness. You did not move. Hange brushed your hair with her fingers. “ . . . Y/N, It’s Hange . . . If you can hear me, I love you so much . . .” No movement. No twitching or any indication of consciousness. “I’ll visit you when I can . . .” 

In the morning, Levi and you started traveling to Mitras. Erwin and Darius Zackly ensured to put you in one of the top hospitals in Mitras. Fortunatly you did improve. Your lucid episodes started becoming longer and the periods inbetween shortened. You were not triggered as much. Levi was by your side most of the time.

 Two and a half years later after That Day you, Levi, and the psychologists hit a huge milestone. For six months you were lucid, your triggers no longer  made you panic, scream and kick. You didn’t need to be sedated. You were able to relay the details of That Day without being triggered. Levi was allowed to take you out of the hospital and live togehter in the city. That day was now a painful memory. You didn’t cry when remembering it. Every now and then you would have nightmares about That Day, but when Levi woke you up you knew you were safe. You would calm down and then go back to sleep. 

Two years and nine months after that day, Levi and you officially were married. Though he already considered you his wife, he was elated that it was official. Friends who visited you in the hospital were there. Most of the scouts who you knew attended. Commander Erwin was happy to see you healthy and happy to see Levi happier. Everyone mentioned how happy they were to see you healthy and like your old self. You met Sasha’s boyfriend, Niccolo at the wedding. But when she showed you a ring on her finger you met her fiance. You cheered and jumped up and down excitedly. You planned to hang out for a day with Mikasa and Sasha. Eren wanted to come, but Mikasa told him no. 

Three years after that day, you barely thought of that day. You were free spirited and started to enjoy reading again. You mostly stayed home, cleaning, cooking and doing hobbies. Sometimes when the scouts were in town you’d invite your friends over for dinner. Most of the time you had a quiet and peaceful life. 

Three years and two months later, Levi brought up the idea that he would return to the Survey Corps. You were confused and almost begging him to not return. You didn’t want something to happen to him while he was away with the scouts. You absolutely did not want to go back. You wanted Levi to stay with you and continue the peaceful life you had with him. He agreed that he had everything he wanted. A home, a beautiful wife, a peaceful life on the surface, but he felt like he had a duty to fulfill. That he needed to payback Commander Erwin for helping him with everything he’s done. 

It took a while for you to come around, but you wanted Levi to feel fulfilled. You knew he was capable of doing everything he could to survive. You knew he would come back to you. 

Three and a half years after that day, Levi returned to being Captain of the special operations squad. You would visit each other in your free time. Sometimes you felt lonely, but you lived a peaceful and safe life which is what Levi wanted for you. 

Thank you for reading through the editing mistakes. It takes a good 50 mins to read through this whole story and I just need to study for finals rn LOL

Also i know the villians are random. Lol originally they were going to be Zeke Peick and Galliard but i couldnt imagine them doing shit that dark LMAO

masterlist

[littlelovelyspiderling]

Hello lovely ☺️ how scandelous would it be to ask for perhaps a sneak peak of the next chapter?

👉👈 perhaps a lil snippet? A crumb? 🥹🥺🫣🙌

*clutches pearls* oh my…oh dear…i’ve never been asked this before 😳 this is a first for me.

am i allowed to do this?? why does it feel illegal lmao 🫨

i mean you did ask very nicely & i am dying to show the next chapter to yall & i am indeed a strong independent woman who can do whatever the hell she wants so…here you go?? i guess??

disclaimer: it took me a very hot minute to decide which part to do & i haven’t edited / beta read anything yet so it might change a bit once i post the full chapter…also hopefully this scene makes some kind of sense to you out of context. double also this will be the ONLY part i share bc i don’t wanna spoil the whole thing 😤 but i hope you like 🤭🩵

—————————————

“So…” Spider-Man said, voice low but playful. “Come here often, hot stuff?”

Despite his best efforts, Johnny busted into a laugh, shaking his head from side to side. “Shut up, you loser,” he giggled.

“Wait, wait, I can do better than that. Somebody call the fire department, ‘cuz this guy is smokin’.”

“Is this you attempting to flirt with me? Corny pickup lines and cheesy one-liners? You really think that’s the key to my refined and sophisticated heart?”

“Well? Is it working?” Spidey asked in whisper, the words curling upwards just like the goofy smile Johnny knew he had on behind his mask. The Human Torch rolled his eyes.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he mumbled fondly. The two of them kept their faces and bodies angled forward as they spoke, daring not to show any physical displays of affection with so many eyes on them.

“Pretty lousy atmosphere for a first date, if you ask me,” Spidey continued, quiet and coltish. “Some orchids or candles would’ve been nice.”

“You want to count this as our first date?” Johnny whispered back. “I was planning to take you somewhere with much better ambiance and way fewer older sisters around. Maybe rent a gondola and a string quartet or something. But if you’d like, we can always save that for date number two.”

Spider-Man shrugged. “Either way. Your idea does sound a lot more romantic than the humiliation ritual we’re about to be subjected to...”

Johnny ventured a look at the rows of heroes sitting in the arena’s viewing room and grimaced. “Especially with my teammates watching,” he said gravely. His gaze swiveled to his feet, and he swallowed. “I am so not good at this ‘keeping secrets’ thing, Webs. I really like you, and am obviously terrible at hiding it.” His hands knotted into fists at his sides. “So if you’re set on keeping this thing on the down low, we’ve really gotta sell the whole ‘platonic super bros’ shtick. We can’t do anything that even suggests that we like each other like that. Not with them watching us like fish in a bowl.”

Spidey faced him then, head drooping a bit. “I’m sorry I’m making you lie to your teammates,” he murmured. “I know firsthand how complicated it can get.”

“It’s all right. I lie to them about all kinds of stuff all the time.” Johnny smiled apologetically. “I just wish I was better at it.”

Spider-Man scratched the back of his neck. “Lucky for us, we’ll probably be too busy getting blasted by drones or pummeled by robotic thugs to do anything remotely romantic-y looking while we’re in here.”

Johnny elbowed him in the side. “Well, double lucky for us: we’ve done this exact drill in real life already, and won. I can’t imagine fake thugs or drones being any harder to beat than those insane kidnappers we fought.” Mischief tugged at the corners of his lips as he tucked his hands politely behind his back, raising his chin and tracing his gaze along the outline of Spidey’s throat. “And after we win this,” Johnny added, “I’m gonna drag you somewhere no one will bother us and spend the rest of the afternoon sucking on your neck until it’s all one big hickey. Sound good?”

A noise sputtered out of the masked hero that sounded like a cross between a cough and a squeak. Johnny clapped him triumphantly on the back as he strolled forward, whispering in his ear as he close as he dared as he passed by. “Best leave the flirting to the professionals, bug boy.”

——————————

TA-DA!! this feels so wrong but i hope it gives you a fun little taste of what’s to come heeheeHEEEE

[youredreamingofroo]

For those awaiting an answer on one of my more recent posts, and whether I'll be leaving, here it is. .....Under the cut, as it, in my usual fashion, gets lengthy, you can skip to the end for a TL:DR :)

I'm not going to leave tumblr/simblr, I'll be floating around and still liking people's posts, I'm probably gonna unfollow some people (not my mutuals ofc ilya) just because it's hard to keep up with my dash when I get over 10 notifications every 2 minutes or so especially when if I'm not going to primarily consume Sims 4 content. I'm going to put my mods folder into my external HDD, in order to preserve them ykwim, and I'm going to uninstall TS4, I'll try to make one more sim before the sims 4 gets poofed off my laptop, although as it stands even after freeing up 20 GBs of space, my space went back down to 400 MBs so 😭😭 I will probably be posting variety content, even though I know all my followers are primarily Sims content consumers (some of ya'll do other stuff, but I mean as a whole, my audience tends to be more Sims 4 related), I might play and share some of my Sims 1 content, which is not story oriented, it's just a little gameplay of Roo in the Sims 1 :) I'll also probably post Baldur gate stuff (if I can free up the storage for it LMAO), I'll post witcher content maybe, and plenty of other things, and like I said, I'll continue to float around, and I'll continue to reblog any Sims content I see and enjoy... as well as other things. .... So what about W.A.S? Yea. I dont know, while W.A.S IS supposed to be a fleshed out story, and while I know I AM leaving sims 4 behind, completely limiting what I can and cannot make story-wise (just cuz I don't know how to make scenes and stuff lmao), I will ATTEMPT to make W.A.S content, I will still make and post the Official teaser, and I'll probably introduce the characters myself sometime after the teaser (I'll take screenshots in CAS and just hope my storage doesn't dip TOO low). I may release some of the story in just text form, as I do really want to continue to post about the story. I'll try to come up with something tho, don't worry :)

I may also start getting back into art, I still need some hobby to preoccupy my time that isn't gaming, I will still do blender stuff (since I have a bunch of my Sims' DAEs) and I will maybe make more edits, but regardless, I still enjoy art and Sims 4 kinda consumed the time that I wanted to spend doing art, soooo yeah.

For the unrooleased tag, I have a bunch of sims that I've never posted, as well as renders that I've never posted, and I may, as Sims 4 filler, post those to fill the void that will become my Sims 4 content

and FINALLY. LAST THING I promise :) I know all of ya'll LOVE Roo, and I do want to reinforce the fact that ROO IS NOT A SIMS CHARACTER, I did NOT make him originally from the Sims, if you were at any point worried I would stop posting about him, I will not be, I will continue to share about Roo, probably with a lot less pictures considering I really only used TS4 as a visual assistant for his story, I do have his DAEs, so I can make SOME Roo blender content, albeit limited with Scenes and stuff. Roo is a character that I will continue to be passionate about, I never mentioned this but I LOVE to make Roo in pretty much every game I play (besides Skyrim................ and ofc games where u dont have customization), like Animal Crossing, I made a variant of Roo there, and in Stardew! You get the point, he will always be a prominent figure of my content. I may also bring back some characters I made from TS4, like Nirvana, I LOVE her character and would LOVE to continue to post about her, as well as Roo's family, I love posting about his family members and sharing their own story and what importance they are to Roo.

WOW, okay that was a lot, if you're skipping here for a clear answer, or a sort of TL:DR, here ya go, I don't want to leave tumblr, so I won't, and I won't necessarily leave the Simblr ring, TS4 is going to be uninstalled, but I WILL preserve my TS4 mods in my external HDD, and be on the look out for the last sim I make in TS4 :)

[veratasswrites]

Cross-Post of Writeblr Intro!

Writeblr Re-Intro

(Originally posted to @directionoftime - just moving my writeblr to this blog!)

Hey Writeblr!! I attempted to join the community a few years back but way too quickly found myself overwhelmed and ended up fizzling out >.> but I'm back now and hoping to make a better (less stressed out) effort! A bit worried I might have burnt-off some of the writeblr folks by just kinda peace-ing out, but I really do hope to make a better go of it this time around and post/interact more often! (I have so many writeblr posts to catch up on, yikes!)

About me: Vera (she/her) I have been writing consistenly for a solid 15ish years now, have a creative writing master's behind me, (and over a million combined words in fan-fic LOL) and finally feel in a creative place where I'm ready to (hopefully) start publishing, in whatever form it takes!

So, onto the point here: Novel Intro!

YES! Some of you (might) remember my novel Sauvarin - well, it's back, babey! And about 95-99% complete!! Currently on my last round of scene-rewrites and line editing before I begin the horrifying task of querying!

Only been ten years in the making, lmao >.>

So, what the heck is SAUVARIN??

TLDR: fantasy post-apocalypse featuring an autistic blacksmith who is utterly oblivious to the local boot-legger Trying Very HArd to be her girlfriend (pray for Yenn, y'all! She is being SO brave about it!) Said blacksmith, Isaura, is instead on A Mission Of Great Importance to inter the ashes of her surrogate father, Soo-young, in his childhood home town. Except, no one's ever heard of this town, the internet's broken, and she accidenatlly discovers that METAL IS LIVING NOW???

Why do all "simple requests" always end up being the most cataclysmic???

Want to know more? Please go ahead, if not, thanks for looking in this far :)

Well, on to major themes and elements! We've got:

NON-DYSTOPIAN post-apocalypse (we're currently living in the dystopia, y'all!), set in the near distant future where the vast majority of humanity has fled climate change to an orbital space station leaving circa 10million people on earth. The endlings determined to protect what they still can, raise their children, protect their towns, and face whatever magic storms come their way. But right now? They have food, they have community, and there's always something silly to laugh at!

It is a LOW-FANTASY, meaning we've got: freaky and intelligent animals! A magic so new to the world, most people don't realise it's possible! The corpse of god! Cool mushrooms! A darkness that watches YOU! Baba-Yaga (she's a scientist now)! Old women who Take No Shit But Absolutely Know How To Harm!

NATURE mutating - what it "reclaims" in some areas, it mutates in others, or simply allows itself to start anew. Nature in this novel is very much embodiying the quote: "you cannot kill me in a way that matters". Freaky deer. Metal predators. Plants that grab onto YOU.

NOBODY WINS, BUT NO ONE LOSES EITHER the head of Department for Zoology took one look at the "provisional government" and just fucked off into the woods (Baba Yaga). "The Hero" of the orbital space station realising what their heroism actually cost the earth in raw materials. The dead are returned, but not to the life they remembered leaving. Sometimes you do, in fact, find the ghost of a child in the woods (it's okay if you are not sure what to do next).

Well, that's probably enough for now. I'll do some character intro posts (as memes!) hopefully over the weekend - it's a fairly big cast with a lot of minor-in-screen-time-but-major-in-plot characters so it'll be a bit of a series, I think.

Any questions? Feel free to ask! But I will be moving all writeblr stuff/posts about this blog over to my new side blog @veratasswrites so if you want to follow the posts, please follow that blog!

I'll tag some of the old writeblrs I'd followed/who were so awesome and welcoming the first time - but if you're not interested or anything I really mean NO PRESSURE!

@ryan-shepard-writes, @writeblrfantasy, @magic-is-something-we-create

Anyone's welcome to be +/- tag list!

Thank's so much for reading! :)



[dreamofbecoming]

ough ok this is a rough rough rough draft, but i have a migraine and i can’t sleep so writing - yes, editing - no, lmao. it’s altogether sappier than i intended and the tone is wildly different from part 1 but i started writing and this is what came out, so what can i say? i just work here lol. feedback greatly appreciated, this is a huge departure from my usual repertoire so i’ll welcome any and all suggestions. the banshee/siren hybrid!jaskier saga continues. enjoy!

og post part 1 here ao3

wc 2500

—

It’s vaguely surprising to open his eyes at all, expecting as he was to end his days on the dusty road beside the men he killed, another monster never to terrorize the Continent again, courtesy of the great White Wolf.

But open his eyes he does, blinking blearily in the low firelight of what appears to be a generic room at a generic inn, judging by the slightly lumpy mattress beneath him and the scratchy blankets tucking him in. Geralt is in a chair by the hearth, patching a hole in what looks to be one of Jaskier’s socks, of all things.

Jaskier would prefer to lay here silently for a while, watching the way the light flickers and dances across Geralt’s handsome cheek, but he isn’t fool enough to imagine that his waking has gone unnoticed, or that such attention would be welcome. And, apparently, there’s a conversation to be had, given that the witcher hadn’t slain him where he stood when he revealed himself, and Jaskier would rather have that bit over with, at least.

He tries to sit up, only to grunt embarrassingly and fall back against the pillows when his elbows give out on him. He feels weak and wobbly, like a newborn foal. How long has he been out?

“Easy, don’t hurt yourself. Here,” Geralt rumbles, crossing the room to help lever Jaskier upright, propping pillows behind his back. He looks like he’s physically holding himself back from fussing over the blankets, but that’s absurd. Geralt doesn’t fuss. Geralt would never. Jaskier must still be fuzzy from sleep.

In a desperate attempt to regain some footing, some normalcy, Jaskier decides to be the first to bring up the fiend in the room. “Going soft in your old age, witcher? You don’t normally fluff the monsters’ pillows for them before you slay them, in my experience,” he says, forcing out a chuckle in the hopes of lightening the mood.

It doesn’t work. Geralt’s expression would be flat to the casual observer, but Jaskier, with his years of practice deciphering the minute twitches and shifts of that beloved face, sees the hurt and resignation in the creases around his eyes. Something that feels a lot like shame burns in his belly.

“Don’t. Don’t do that. You’re no monster.” He shifts uncomfortably on his feet. “Besides, I don’t kill anything with sentience or intelligence, you know that. Intelligent may be a bit of a stretch, sure, but you’re definitely sentient.”

Jaskier takes the teasing for the olive branch it is and makes an appropriately outraged noise, swamped with relief and reveling in the pleased little huff he elicits when he reaches out to thwap the witcher across the arm.

Unfortunately the effort involved in moving brings him right back to where he started, and he falls back against the pillows with a hiss. Geralt is back at his side and—there really is no other word for it—fussing over him in an instant.

“You need to be careful, Jask, you lost a lot of energy. You’ve been out a few days, so your muscles are likely to be weak for a while.”

“A few days? How? What even happened, I don’t…” Jaskier trails off, not knowing how to end that sentence. It isn’t remember, he remembers perfectly well, right up until the moment he collapsed in the dirt. Understand, maybe. He doesn’t understand at all. He doesn’t understand why he’s here, why Geralt is here, how he was able to do those things to those men...there are a lot of things he doesn’t understand. He isn’t sure he wants to.

Geralt sits awkwardly at the foot of the bed, perching on the edge in his effort not to disturb Jaskier’s position. Jaskier rolls his eyes and pokes him in the back with one blanketed toe, pointedly shifting his legs over to make room for Geralt to sit properly. The witcher huffs, looking vaguely sheepish, and settles more comfortably.

“You...you used too much magic at once, Jaskier. It drained you. We’re lucky the innkeeper here let us stay as payment for getting rid of the bandits. They’ve been plaguing that stretch of road for months, apparently. Meant they didn’t ask too many questions about the bodies, at least, just figured they got what they asked for, attacking a witcher.” At this, he looks up from where he’s been staring a hole in the floor between his knees, glaring at Jaskier. “Why did you do it, Jask? I had them under control. You didn’t need to—you never should have killed for me. I never asked you to do that.”

“You didn’t, though.” His voice comes out quieter than he means.

Geralt furrows his brow. “Didn’t what? Ask? I know, Jask, that’s my point.”

“Have them under control. You didn’t.”

Something in Geralt’s expression softens, but he rolls his eyes anyway. “I was fine, Jaskier, I can handle seven men. My injury from last week isn’t even that bad, it would have been fi—”

“Eight.”

“What?”

Jaskier finally makes himself meet Geralt’s eyes, determined to make himself heard if this is the last time they speak. “There were eight men, not seven. There was a man in a tree with a crossbow behind you. You didn’t see him, he was about to—” He squeezes his eyes shut, breathing hard against the memory of the foul taste of Geralt’s death Song flooding his mouth, of that crystal moment of knowing the person he loved most in all the world was Doomed, and he couldn’t stop it, couldn’t help—

But he had helped. He had stopped it, despite not even knowing his powers were capable of something like that. Against all odds, Geralt was safe, he was here and alive and gazing at Jaskier with unmasked concern.

“Alright, eight, then. You still didn’t need to enchant them, Jaskier. Siren powers shouldn’t even work that strongly this far from the sea, anyway! You burnt yourself out! You could have been seriously hurt, throwing magic around like that. You should have gotten on Roach when I told you to, you should have gotten to safety. I would have been fine.”

“But you wouldn’t have!” It bursts out of Jaskier, far louder than he’d intended, tinged with desperation. “You wouldn’t have been fine. I’m not just a siren, Geralt. My sire, my matka, is a siren, yes. But my mama, the mother who bore me? Was a banshee.”

Geralt’s brow furrows in confusion. Dam broken, Jaskier continues in a rush.

“My powers have never been good for much of anything. I was a disappointment to my matka and her kin, because even though my Voice comes out as a Song, all it’s ever done is foretell death, I’ve never been able to use it to compel anyone, and what use is a siren without a Lure?

“I don’t have a proper Shriek, either, but my mama always said my Shriek was as good as any other, just prettier. That’s what it’s always been, a Shriek disguised as a Song. I look at someone, I can feel that they’re slated to die, and the Song wants to be sung, but I never bothered because what’s the point? What good is a warning when you can’t escape the inevitable? Better to let people live freely until their last, that’s what mama said. She never used her Shriek, either. It’s why her people cast her out, why she married a human man when her siren mate grew tired of her. She hated death, too.” Jaskier swallows against the tears building behind his eyes.

“Hers was the first Song I ever Sang all the way through. The only one I ever Sang, until now. My father began to suspect I wasn’t really his, and flew into a rage. I was only thirteen, I couldn’t save her. I could only hide in the closet and Sing while he killed her. I left for Oxenfurt the day after the funeral and I haven’t Sung since. Useless.”

A warm weight on his foot pulls him out of the memories, Geralt’s thumb swiping gently back and forth over his ankle while Jaskier dashes the angry tears from his eyes and tries to get his breathing back under control.

It’s Geralt who breaks the silence.

“You’re not useless, Jaskier. Never that.” There’s another long stretch of quiet, before Geralt seems to settle some internal argument and looks up to meet his eyes, molten gold shining with unnamed emotions. “Help me understand. Why Sing for those men? Why risk yourself? You’ve held in your...Shriek, all this time. Why let it out now, for them?”

Jaskier chuckles mirthlessly. “You’re not listening, Geralt. It wasn’t supposed to be their Song. I don’t...I don’t know what I did. It’s never happened like that before.”

“Like what?”

“I’ve never...I changed it, Geralt. It was supposed to be you.” There’s a sharp intake of breath from the foot of the bed, but Jaskier squeezes his eyes shut against the phantom taste of rot and barrels on. “I felt it. The man in the trees, he wasn’t going to miss. The Song was meant for you, but I— gods, Geralt, I couldn’t bear it. I don’t know how I—I just knew I couldn’t let it happen. I couldn’t, I couldn’t, I—” Between one breath and another Geralt has moved up the bed to his side and gathered him into his arms. Jaskier buries his head into his chest and clings.

When he stops shaking, he unclenches his fingers from where they’re fisted in Geralt’s shirt and starts again. “I don’t understand what I did, Geralt. I didn’t know I could do that. I’ve never had a Lure, no matter how my matka and her kin tried to beat one into me.” A low growl rumbles beneath his cheek, and he pets Geralt’s arm consolingly. That pain is long past, there’s nothing to be done for it now.

“I didn’t even mean to, really, the only thing in my head was that you couldn’t die. I never meant to—Geralt, I never wanted to kill anyone. I don’t regret it, I’d do it again for you, but I—” Geralt’s hand strokes softly through his hair, soothing the frantic pace of his heart.

“I’m scared, Geralt.” His voice is small to his own ears, thin and frightened. “If I can do that when I’m not even trying...what’s inside me, Geralt? How can I be sure I won’t hurt anyone else? Someone innocent this time?”

There’s a long moment where the only sounds are the crackling of the fire and Jaskier’s own hitching sniffles, and Geralt’s slow, measured breathing beneath his ear.

“Hm,” comes the eventual response, almost startling a snort out of Jaskier at the sheer predictability of it, until Geralt continues. “We’ll figure it out together, then. There may be someone out there who can help you learn to control your powers, we just have to find them. We can start at Kaer Morhen. Come home with me this year, we’ll talk to Vesemir and figure out where to start.”

Jaskier sits up, gaping in shock. “You’re inviting me home? To the witcher keep? When I’m—”

“If you say you’re a monster again, I’m not buying you a single honeycake the entire trip.” Jaskier snaps his mouth shut, still stunned. Geralt’s face softens, and he sighs. “I should have invited you a long time ago, Jaskier. Human or not, you’re my friend, you’ll be welcome.” He furrows his eyebrows, looking suddenly uncertain. “Unless...You don’t have to come, if you don’t want to. I know it isn’t...it won’t be what you’re used to. I understand if mmph—” He stares, golden eyes wide over the hand Jaskier has clapped over his mouth.

“Foolish witcher, of course I’m coming! Are you mad? A chance to meet your brothers, your mentor? To see the majesty of Kaer Morhen with my own eyes? Gods, the songs to be sung! The stories that must be waiting to be told! Can we go now? Let’s go! Come on, up! Let’s get packed before you change your mind!”

The wondering look is gone from Geralt’s eyes, which are back to familiar flat annoyance. He pointedly grasps Jaskier’s wrist and removes the hand from his mouth, before standing up and manhandling Jaskier back under the blankets.

“Majestic isn’t the word I’d use, and the stories in those walls are hardly the kind of heroic tales for writing songs. It’s not there for—for—material, bard, you really will piss them off if you try that.”

Seems their equilibrium isn’t quite back, that or Geralt really is really, properly nervous about this invitation, if he thinks Jaskier is serious about picking over his home for inspiration alone.

“Geralt.” He waits until his witcher stops fiddling with the blankets and meets his eyes again. “Darling, I know. I’m only teasing. I wouldn’t exploit you, or your family, that way. Whatever songs I write there, they’ll be just for my own memories. And yours, if you like. I promise.”

Geralt deflates a little, shoulders slumping. “I know. I—I know.” He straightens up, and Jaskier can see the mask of The White Wolf, Stoic Scary Witcher descending back into place. “We’re not leaving today, anyway. You’ll need a few more days to recover, and we’ve a few weeks besides before we need to start heading north. Stay there, don’t move. The innkeep said she’d have some broth waiting for when you woke up. Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.” He glowers threateningly at Jaskier, who sticks out his tongue in response, before leaving, apparently satisfied his bard isn’t going to make a break for it in the next ten minutes.

Jaskier settles back against the pillows with a sigh, reeling internally from so many new developments at once. Today has been nothing like he expected. He’s still somewhat surprised to be alive at all, and a tiny part of him is still waiting for the moment Geralt realizes he’s made a terrible mistake and Jaskier can’t be allowed to live, though he realizes now, with some chagrin, that that was never a realistic outcome.

He’s still terrified of the power lurking inside him, all the more ominous now for having been used with only the barest consent from his own mind. But for now he can breathe deep and set that fear aside, at least for a moment. Geralt has promised to help him. Geralt will keep him safe.

He’s alive. Geralt is alive. Geralt knows the truth and doesn’t hate him. They have the beginnings of a plan. Geralt called him his friend, out loud, on purpose. He’s been invited to Kaer Morhen for the winter. Soon he’ll have dinner, or something resembling dinner, anyway. He has altogether more blessings than he was strictly prepared to count, under the circumstances. So for now, he supposes he’ll allow himself to rest, and hum, and wait for his witcher to return. They’ll sort out the rest together.

[skyriderwednesday]

Hair

There's always an unmanageable phase to growing out your hair, and Havelock has hit it. Fortunately, Sybil is very keen to offer her services.

(The fabled 'Sybil brushes Havelock's hair fic', G rated but a teensy bit spicy for a moment or two, background VetSybVimes, 1835 words)

Also on AO3

Havelock's hair was... becoming a problem. It wasn't unruly as such, and the weather this year was not yet humid enough to affect it - his hair was used to humidity. No, the main issues he was facing could all be attributed to length. His hair had been longer. It had been far longer -- but he had been fourteen when his hair had reached his waist and he had not had the concerns of leading an entire city. Presently, it was just reaching the bottom of his shoulder-blades. He could hardly tie it tight enough, it would come loose after a handful of hours when it never had before. It would fall in his eyes, tangle with his glasses, tangle with itself... Put simply, more needed doing to it. He could not any longer simply comb out the most obvious tangles and tie it flat away, his hair had volume and (metaphorically) a life of its own. He could not remember how he had managed it as a teen. He might have braided it. Sybil had said last night that she liked it long, that it suited him, and given he deeply disliked having it cut...  "If you were the one to have to deal with it my dear, you may not be as fond of it," he had replied. That had been in error. Sybil always liked a challenge. She also had always greatly enjoyed his hair.

"Hello darling," she said warmly as she swept into the room. Havelock looked up wearily from his desk. "Good morning Sybil," he said, pushing loose hair out of his face. Sybil advanced across the office, conventions of politics and rules of tyranny meaning nothing against the tide of determination she exerted. Havelock let it overtake him, not having slept well enough to summon an effectual barricade of stubbornness. Sybil represented the theoretical unstoppable force by default, and presently he felt like a perfectly moveable object. "I see I've arrived in good time..." she said, reaching immediately for his hair. He lamely leaned away from her, knowing full well there was no point to doing so. "It would appear so." Havelock pulled a face as Sybil kissed his temple. "Oh, you are miserable dear," she said, touching his hair again. I wonder why that could be? He did not say out loud. Silently he moved his inkwell to where it was not liable to be knocked over. "Darling," Sybil said firmly. He had long noted that Sybil appeared to be able to read his mind at times. He turned his eyes heavily towards her. "Yes?" "I can come back if I've interrupted you," she said calmly. "No," he shook his head, and loose hair tickled his nose. "We had best have it sorted." "Right," she patted his shoulder, causing him to fail in an endeavour not to sneeze. Rather loudly. "Bless you, dear." "...thank you," he said, blinking. Sybil moved back a little, studying him. "Darling, you look as if your brain just fell out of your ears." "It feels that way," he replied, still a little dazed. "Well, stuff it back in and we'll get to your hair. I'm sure you haven't got all day." Havelock made a mildly disgusted noise. Sybil laughed. "Come on, dear." She walked around the front of the desk towards the fireplace. Havelock stayed where he was and shut his eyes. He wasn't having the best of mornings. He hadn't slept well, his back hurt, his leg was stiff… he had gotten nowhere with the backlog of yesterday, and now Sybil had decided they were going to do his hair. There was a noise. He looked over. She was moving the coffee table. "Sybil…" "I'll put it back when we're finished dear," she said, dusting off her hands – though if there had been any dust on the coffee table, he would have had to have a stern word with the servants. He watched her sit on one of the sofas with her legs out in front of her and open her handbag. She started to take things out of it. Multiple combs, a hairbrush, hair ties, pins… To think he ordinarily managed with a single comb, a piece of ribbon, and his fingers. "Darling," Sybil said warningly.

Havelock tried not to sigh as he got to his feet and laboured across the room. Sybil took his arm gently and guided him to sit against her legs. He put his head back into her lap and folded his hands onto his lower chest. She gathered his hair out from under him and smiled fondly. "Now this is an angle I haven't seen you from in a long time," she said. "You haven't needed to," he replied softly. "It used to be every week when I was home," she mused, picking at the ribbon that had been vaguely holding back his hair. "Glasses, dear." He took them off and relaxed into the process. That's right… Sybil had managed his hair when it had reached his waist. She must have tried to teach him, but he had a strong sense that he had usually been half asleep the moment she picked up the hairbrush. He tuned back in to her muttering to herself. "Gods, Havelock, what kind of pig's ear–-" Sybil made a triumphant noise as she managed to untie the ribbon with the aid of a sturdy pin. "I apologise for that," he said. "No worries dear," Sybil dropped the twisted ribbon onto his hands. Flattening it was now his project for the next ten minutes. "No, I haven't needed to," she said, resuming the previous train of thought as she weighed a wide comb versus the hairbrush. "You would have thought that someone would have taught you to properly care for your hair at some point, but…" "It's not a skill they teach to boys," he said, echoing a similar conversation that had been held between them long ago. "No," Sybil said, choosing the comb and beginning to detangle from the ends up towards his roots. "They should though," he replied, holding the ribbon close to his eyes as he worked to smooth it. "Exactly," Sybil said. "And then you went away for so long and when you came back you had cut it. I half-thought I'd never forgive you for that." "I couldn't manage it," he said, tilting his head back, "and the image was important." "Oh the image," Havelock could hear her rolling her eyes. "Everything was about the image. Is that why you stopped seeing me?" He sat up and turned around to her, the ribbon forgotten about. "Of course not. Our paths had diverged, and there was so much mess to clean up, and–-" Sybil's fingers brushed around his jaw and under his chin, gently closing his mouth. "Hush, darling, I didn't mean it." She turned him round and lay him back against her knees. She stroked his hair and kissed his forehead. "I understand. At the time, I was alone in a big house and angry, and I thought I hated you… but I'm glad to have you again now." He sighed deeply. "I am too…" "I love you darling," Sybil said, "I've always loved you. Now, I think I should finish your hair before one of us starts crying." "'One of us'?" he said. "Come now, we both know it would be me." Sybil snorted, "Havelock!" "I can cry if I want to," he said mock sulkily, "it's my office." "Well don't start now, I need that ribbon straightened out." He retrieved it from the carpet, "Yes ma'am." "Don't start that either." He smiled at her innocently. "I don't know what you mean." "Behave," she said, gently hitting him with the brush, "or I might pull your hair." She meant it. Yes ma'am, he resisted saying aloud for a second time. The first stroke of the brush tugged his hair anyway. He glanced back at her. "Sorry, dear."

He melted into the sensation of subsequent strokes, silently revelling in the odd scrape of the bristles against his scalp. The task of smoothing the ribbon continued autonomously, and his breathing deepened in content. Then the brushing stopped. Sybil's fingers entered his hair. He hummed in query. She shushed him. Then she began to massage his scalp, down into his neck, relieving tension he hadn't known his muscles had been holding. He moaned in quiet bliss. Sybil hummed. Her warmth increased as she leant over and pressed her lips to the top of his head. "Don't you think we should do this more often?" she whispered. Havelock had to remember how to speak. "Yes…" he breathed, "I do." "Good," Sybil kissed his head again, "though not in your office." She withdrew, leaving him with a pang of loss. She was right. As uncomplicated as their arrangement felt from the inside, it could result in unfathomable complications if walked in upon. After all, onlookers would see the leader of the city and a married woman. There would be scandal, words such as 'taking advantage' would be used…

"Have you finished with that ribbon, dear?" she asked. Havelock looked down at it in his hands. He had forgotten he was holding it. "Ah… it appears to have become crumpled again." Sybil looked down over him. "Well, it's better than it was," she said, faintly amused. "I won't need it for a few more minutes anyway." He nodded, and Sybil brushed out the tangles her fingers had caused. She sectioned his hair, gently straightening his head before beginning to braid it intricately from his crown to the top of his neck. It was tight, sturdy, but not uncomfortable. He felt pins and ties weaved into it. It was a style that locked his hair in place, and would keep it there until she could do it again or until he decided to take it down. Most likely the former. "Ribbon please, dear," Sybil said and he dutifully passed it up to her to tie the last loose portions of his hair at the base of his neck.

She sat back to admire her handiwork, "Beautiful, darling, even if I am saying so myself." He hummed warmly. "Thank you so very much." "You're always welcome," Sybil said and kissed the top of his head a last time. "Now..." she looked at him analytically, "we do now have to get you up from down there." "Ah," he said. "I had… neglected to think of that." "So had I… It makes it harder that you're sitting on my feet." He half shook his head and enjoyed that his hair wouldn't make him sneeze this time. "It would be harder if I were between them." "Could you turn around?" "That would involve crawling and may appear compromising." Sybil hummed in deep thought. "I should have allowed you to do this last night," he said. She shook her head, "Sam would have laughed at us for twenty minutes before helping." "Yes, he would..." "...under your arms?" Sybil suggested.

[z-1-wolfe]

Parhelion Headcanons (sir this is all for you) @greenbeany

Putting 'em under the cut because they got very long O.O

I- the gnome is Neon I take no criticism. They are often good-natured souls with a more mischievous side, and if that doesn’t describe Neon I’m not sure what does. Playful, funny, good intentions, that my good Bean is our lovable cat personified. Okay Parhelion dnd au with gnome Neon please /j.

I AM SMACKING THE GUN OUT OF YOUR HANDS [runs into a glass wall] dammit,, guess I gotta talk now

I- oh no,, time to fail the exam I guess (turns all your head canons upside down)

Okay they do sleep yes they do. Actually that’s a lie only Ciel sleeps, the other two are insomniacs. Ciel has all of her day to day life planned out to the minute, so she heads to bed at a certain time and wakes up at a certain time, the other two are more of a “we’ll sleep when we’re tired” kinda duo. Unfortunately due to Ilia’s night terrors and Neon’s ADHD they almost never rest. No they do not sleep in a SANE bed, ha why would they have a bed? They sleep in a hammock all tangled up with each other. It’s hard to tell what order they sleep in when they kinda curl into each other. They do not use a duvet, why have a duvet when Neon is a space heater? There are no pillows on the hammock X). OKAY THEIR ROOM, THIS I GOT, it’s a funky mess that is somehow organized thanks to Ciel. Ilia doesn’t own a lot in general but it was her life’s dream to paint her bedroom rainbow so guess what they have now. The other two are too soft and they supported her efforts and they love her despite her poor design sense XD.

I- why closet ASDFG I mean— No they do not share a closet they all have completely different fashion sense and if that was all in one place people would be genuinely terrified. But since they’re broke they had to make do with one walk in closet that they partitioned off into sections. YES THEY DO HAVE MATCHING OUTFITS THEY ARE SO CUTE LIKE THAT. They tend to be like those cute couple outfits with a few variations to match their own personal style. But their favorite matching outfit are these duck hoodies they own courtesy of once again Ilia living out her childhood dreams. No they don’t own many outfits because like I mentioned earlier they are broke x). Hmm thinking about each other’s styles… Ilia think both of her girlfriends have great taste, she loves the well, neon of Neon, and the prim and properness of Ciel. Neon just doesn’t care XD. And Ciel is just, she’s just standing there wishing she could help their fashion sense, but she holds back because “It does suit them in an odd way.” Ciel gets the most compliments on her style hands down, she looks organized and you can bet she saves money to buy outfits that actually accentuate her cuteness. They don’t wear makeup no time for that (in which you learn Z has little to no knowledge in how to apply makeup and doesn’t know how to answer that question)

OH OKAY I LOVE VIDDY GAMES. Ciel likes real-time strategy games because she’s insane and that’s literally all she knows in life thanks to being raised in an upper class family in Atlas. Neon likes open world games, something something she likes the chance for adventure and determining one’s fate for themself. Ilia has never once played a video game until after she defected from the White Fang but I can see her playing something light like Stardew Valley, low stakes kinda games. Hmm, they might play Animal Crossing together? Since it has aspects they all enjoy. They each have an individual switch (Ilia has a coral switch lite) and one shared PC. Okay game with most hours, maybe Minecraft? They still haven’t beat the enderdragon because Neon keeps getting distracted XD. Neon is the bomb at party games though, you can bet she has a perfect score on all the songs in Just Dance. Ciel is a sharpshooter, god knows who taught her how to shoot like that. The biggest splatoon fan is unfortunately not Neon it is Ilia, she loves all the colors in the game ^^. But she and Neon have wracked up quite a few hours in co-op.

Uhhh books!! Ilia likes fanfics :) it’s unfortunately one of the only ways for her to see positive representation of herself. Neon for some reason reads Epics?? Like her favorite is the Epic of Gilgamesh what is up with that?? Ciel reads webtoons :), she reads enough serious stuff for school work and such, she likes to just kick back and relax after all that. Yes they have schedules reading time courtesy of Ciel :). Uhh, they relax by baking together. None of them had many chances to indulge in sweets while growing up so they make full use of their time now. ?? SPOON?? Cuddle hours happen on a whim, the one thing that Ciel can never schedule because she never knows when it’ll occur. They relax the most in the kitchen x) because that’s where they bake, it’s not unusual to find Neon asleep on the counter while she waits for their sweets to rise. They read in the light, Neon is afraid that by reading in the dark that they’ll all ruin their eyesight. Ciel likes the sunrise because she’s up the earliest and is the only one to see it, the other two prefer sunset because that’s usually when their day is about to begin XD.

Favorite spot for dates! The park ^^, they like to go on picnic dates with all their baked goods. There is no plan, usually one of them will randomly pull the other two out of the house because they haven’t touched grass in a while XD. There are no ideas, they share one braincell and they spend too much time doting on each other to use it. Uhm favorite movie genre,,, they like comedy movies :). Their favorite place to eat is this tiny store on the corner of their street that makes mean gyros, they heccin’ love them. Coping with horror, Ilia is desensitized to horror because of the things she’s seen in life, Neon treats it like a game because she knows it’s not real, Ciel, is okay with it, but she gets shook more easily than the other two and they often have to reassure her. No they do not like theme parks, there are too many people around for Ilia and Ciel and Neon respects their boundaries so they tend to go to more quiet places. Uhm heights, Ciel is used to heights because she’s friends with Penny and woah can that girl toss her in the air like she’s a couple of grapes. Ilia doesn’t mind heights but she would prefer to have her feet on the ground. Neon loves the ground so damn much if it leaves her she will cry because man she can’t roller-skate in the air can she, what will she do if the ground is suddenly gone? They like evening dates because it’s normally the only time all three of them are awake enough for it XD. They end a night by sleeping I am not quite sure if there are other ways to end it lmao. They absolutely despise Neon’s roller skating dates but they love how excited she gets about them so they end up becoming as good as professional roller skaters because the smile on Neon’s face when they join her is dazzling.

I am slowly going insane. Yes each girl has a hobby I sure hope they do. Ilia knits, Ciel paints, and Neon writes. I would like to imagine that Ciel would try to schedule time for their hobbies she ends up giving up because all their sleep schedules are wack. Designated chef is Neon (probably made food for FNKI back in atlas), designated driver is Ilia (I mean I like to imagine she stole cars and stuff in the White Fang XD), designated decorator for stuff is normally Ciel though Neon does try to hijack a few of her plans occasionally, designated shopper is Ciel because the other two have no concept of Saving money, and they all work together to clean :). They don’t work together, they believe in keeping their work life and home life separate to prevent their feelings from getting in the way. They do not have pets, none of them have the energy or responsibility to do that, but Ilia did once bring a moose home one day for some reason.

I am nomming on your arm sir. Ilia and Neon get along with Penny surprisingly well, though I do think Ilia would get along with Weiss better? Ruby and Weiss look at Ciel and see a beacon arc Weiss and more or less adopt her despite Ciel being older than the two of them. They might like.. play board games together? Like some of those more team based board games I can’t think of anything off the top of my head, may the best polycule win. I cannot see them in a cuddle puddle to be honest ajcnjsanjs I am so sorry— hmm Ruby and Neon do not know the meaning of formal, as far as they are concerned these are their girlfriend’s friends and that means that by extension these are their friends. Weiss would like nothing to do with Neon after Neon insults Yang during the Vytal festival but she begrudgingly goes on outings with her and hey, now they’re make up buddies for some reason. The parhelion gals take the fs gals to the gyro place they like :). Parhelion gang Is a lot more vocal on their dates because their love language happens to be words of affirmation while the fs gang’s happen to be physical touch. Both polycules are very very affectionate though I will die on this hill.

DARN IT TUMBLR ONLY LETS ME HAVE 10 IMAGES PER POST THIS IS FINE IT WAS JUST ONE MORE PROMPT DARN IT

(Parhelion angst! How do Neon and Ciel react to the news about the dust mine? How do they find out about Ilia getting expelled? Do they find out about the white fang? Is there any faunus stigma afterwards? How does Ciel react to people bullying her Faunus GFS? Does Neon talk to Ciel much after? Do they ever reunite? Does Neon attempt to help Ciel while she grieves Penny? Where the fuck is Ciel now? Is Neon still alive? Does Ilia ever think about them? Does Blake know about them from Ilia?)

BUDDY I CAME TO THE LAST ASK AND NOW ONLY DID I REALIZE YOU MEANT PARHELION BACK WHEN THEY WHERE IN BEACON THIS WHOLE TIME I’M CRYING. (This ask is answered under the assumption that they are already dating back in Atlas Academy) Ciel is fiercely protective of her girlfriends, though people only know that Neon is a Faunus because Ilia masks her traits during her time at the academy. Neon and Ciel are horrified about the news about the dust mines. They know that Ilia is a Faunus and that her parents were working there so they rush to see her as soon as possible. But they’re too late,,, Ilia’s already been expelled for attacking her fellow students. They don’t hear from Ilia for a few years after that and the two slowly drift apart, each blaming the other for not getting to Ilia soon enough. They don’t find out about the White Fang until they reunite with Ilia unfortunately, but they feel sad that Ilia had felt that they only way for her to get revenge for her parents was by joining a militant group (I’m working under the assumption that Sienna only took control of the White Fang shortly before Ilia joined). When Neon learns that Penny didn’t make it after the Fall of Beacon she hesitantly reaches out to Ciel for the first time in a year, and she does try to help. But for Ciel it’s blow after heccin’ blow and she pushes Neon away in a rage. Ciel leaves the Academy after that and goes rogue, working as a huntsman without a license for the poorer parts of remnant. Ilia is unaware of all this drama during the Beacon arc. The next time she hears of any news is during the Fall of Atlas, and she’s scared, scared because she’s still recovering and she just heard Ruby announce to the world that Remnant is under attack, and oh my gosh her ex girlfriends live in Atlas. Neon makes it out alive, though not entirely in one piece, she now has a prosthetic leg. Ilia is the first person to see her, it’s a tearful reunion and they haven’t fully made up yet, but hey it’s a work in progress, now they just have to find out where Ciel is, but when they do they’ll BOTH be there to greet her. Blake has no idea who the fuck Ciel and Neon are lmao, Ilia never told her anything about her past romances when she was in the White Fang.

Oh gosh I think that's it-- And that is it thank you for listening to me ramble about Parhelion you get a juice box for making it this far. Sir I am sincerely sorry for turning your ship upside down please forgive me.

[whet-ones-write]

Fixing Kai -  a Overhaul x Fem!Reader

First posted on my AO3 and forgot to post here- lmao Whoops! Anyway Enjoy! Warnings: 18+ NSFW / Surgery mention / Binding - Being Tied down.

Word Count: 3446

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“You know that’s not very nice.” You said as you looked up at the masked villain above you. “I fix your arms time and time again, and this is how you treat me?” You sigh, shaking your head. “Glad to know i’m appreciated around here.” Rolling your eyes up at the figure above you as he got up with a grunt. 

 “Now Kai, you need to sit and get your rest. I know that’s something you don’t want to do but you tore yourself up pretty badly.” And as much as you knew it, he probably would not listen to you again, which is why you used your quirk to make sure he stayed in the bed he had already stained crimson with blood. “If you keep moving you could re-open the wounds I've stitched up and don’t even get me started on your bones.” You growled quietly as you shifted your stance. “Still, there’s no need for these bindings eh Angel?”

 “You could be a good boy and stay put.”  Even with the scolding it did not change the fact that you did not budge or remove the bindings. “I know you better than that.” He smirked as you took a seat at your desk, hunching over and looking over his charts. “The moment I let go, you’ll go for your knives and try and hurt me for tying you up like this, even if I am your precious Angel.” You mused, clearly unimpressed with his attempts of flattery. 

 “And such a special Angel you are.” He sighed happily as he lay back watching you. “You don’t break like anyone else and you’re oh so useful to me. You take care of me like no one else does.” He offered charmingly.

 “Yeah and no one fixes your messes like I do eh?” Rolling your eyes you leaned back in your chair. “If it weren’t for me you could be bleeding out right now. Not only that, getting you out was hard enough; having you imprisoned like you were. Still, you need to take at least a week's rest rather than getting into fights.” You started to explain much to his dismay. 

 “Your arms are rather fucked up, but I'm getting close to making a break though.” You informed him. Glacing to you, it was clear you had his interest. This meant you could let the bindings go and like the good boy was going to be, he could remain as you explained. 

“I’m close to getting your new arms compatible with your quirk. We know that you had to touch someone for you to use it, so naturally even though mentally you wanted to use them you couldn’t, something was missing.. With your blood samples I have been able to determine that not only mentally do you need to be willing to activate it but it also lies within your nervous system. Although you have robotic arms which you can use, we know from practice that you can’t use your quirk just yet and because of the lack of connections.” Scratching your head you flipped the page as he continued to listen to you clearly excited for the possibility to be back to normal. 

 “So I’m going to need you to be in top physical condition so I can perform the surgery needed to make sure you can use your arms and quirk to its fullest again. I can’t give you any anesthetic at the time of the surgery because if I did, I can’t be sure if your arms will be connected to your nervous system as well as your brain realising you have your limbs back. They’re just a few days away so when your bones are healed we can give it a go, you should be able to help cure the world again should it all go according to my plan.” 

 “I knew I could count on you, my Angel. I thought I had lost all hope when I was trapped in that God forsaken prison.” He stated as he glanced over at you. “It was so bright and so lonely there by myself. I couldn’t even feed myself at the time. They forced me to have a pump to my stomach for it to be filled with food, I had almost missed chewing and tasting food.” He admitted thinking back on the several months he spent there. “Then again I suppose it was also my own fault over the fact that I trusted the bastard Shigraki but still, he will get what’s coming to him for double crossing me.” He smiled at the thought shutting his eyes as he relaxed back. “He will be one of the first ones I cure. He’s such a sick little boy isn’t it? Always scratching, so dry and flaky. Yes, he shall be the first to be cured once I am able to. Give him some moisturizer at that.” He mused as he opened his eyes to you.

 He wasn’t one for feelings too much, he didn’t have time for them unless he was trying to get others to help him, he could pull at other’s feelings but rather not show that particular weakness himself but there was something about you that just made him sick.  Love sick that is, and he knew there was no cure of this illness but he did not mind. Sometimes you have to be sick in order to get stronger, and that’s how he viewed this situation. It was not often you were in trouble but when you were he would always be there to help. His sickness made it so your protection and safety was more important than his own. On top of that you believed in him which is why you gathered other’s to help him break free. 

 Even though all that though you never gave up on him, and what was his dream soon became the both of yours. You were the one that built his very first arms, and something that he would always treasure before he was able to get into contact with some people that could really make a difference for him. After all in this day and age, a loss of a limb should not keep a sick human down, so why should someone like him that doesn’t suffer, be handicapped.

 “Well it still won’t be for some time yet.” You explained as you rubbed your temple. “You still have to heal as much as you can while we wait for your arms to come in. I will have to make some adjustments to your shoulders, neck and head and it will be risky but the pay off? It’ll be life changing that’s for sure.” You mused before leaning back and looking at him. “You’ll have cybernetic arms, that has your blood flowing through them and on top of that you’ll be able to use your power to cure again.” Smiling at that statement, you got up to turn off the lights. “So rest well sir, the sooner you heal up, the sooner we can get you all better.” Smiling as you left him alone in the room so he could think it over.

 Yes you were so beautiful in your working uniform. A plague mask much like his own but pure in white, to symbolise your cleanliness, the light in the darkness of his goal, as well as matching your white lab coat, announcing to others you were his own private doctor and he’ll be damned if the black trousers you wore got him all hot and bothered. Still a temporary cure will come to him soon enough for his love sickness. He can and will show you just how much you mean to him and how damn sexy you look in your uniform. 

 ~ ~

 When the time came for the surgery you were more nervous than anything. What if something went wrong?. What if you were not quick enough and ended up having him bleed out? You did not have anyone to assist you if something went wrong, because anyone else would just get in the way of what you were trying to do. It seemed simple on paper what you had to do but working on an actual body was different. On top of that you had done some test runs on some animals to try and help them get back to what society saw as normal and after a few attempts, things looked up for the better but the failures still weighed heavy on you and even Chisaki could see that.

 You were stuck scrubbing your arms as you mutter to yourself about the process, what you had to do to an obsessive extent before your trance was snapped, bringing you back down to earth and looking at him. 

 Having placed a kiss on your cheek gently, he looked over you with a small sigh. “Do not fret. I do not die so easily.” He smiled at that, leaning in and kissing your forehead. “I am all healed and ready for this. I know the risks. I know what might happen but Angel, I trust you like no one else.” He explained as he took a seat on the operating table “You’ve been there with me right from the start. Through thick and thin and you have been there healing those in need. The children I've brought to you as well as my fellow colleagues that needed treatment. You are the best that I trust and you have the best equipment we can afford. You’ve looked over your plans obsessively to the point I'm sure you’re speaking them in your sleep. You’ve got plans for every eventuality, there’s no one I love and trust more to do this then you. You have this, just stay calm, relaxed and I’ll be happy to talk the entire time. After, if I stop talking I might just be brain dead, and I’m sure you don’t want that now hmm?” Teasing, you sighed in response, shaking your head. He was always like this in tense situations between you both, just trying to find the light side of life with smiles and laughs. 

 “Even so, if you’re ready I am, and we can begin.” You stated, waiting for his go ahead. Letting him remain sat up, it meant you could work around his back and shoulder completely so you can get to exactly where you need to be. 

 “Of course Angel, lets begin.” He smiled, keeping his eyes open as he watched the door behind you as you began your long and painful work.

“Okay Kai, I’m going to go collect the shopping that we need but I want you to remain in bed.” You tell him as you step around the room; laid on the soft and clean bed, Kai was still resting post-op some time ago.

 “I ain’t going anywhere any time soon.” He replied, letting out a low sigh as he shifted in the bed. Even though no anaesthetic could be used during the operation, you had given him some after; he needed time to recover and relax after all.

 However you knew what he was like, you knew what would happen if you left him alone for more than a handful of minutes. With a slight tap of your chin with your gloved finger, you made your way over and gently placed his new wrists into the restrains.

 You had all of them fastened before Kai realised what was going on, quickly fastening the last restraint over his chest and tightening it enough that he could not move more than he needed to.

 “Hey! What’s the problem! Unfasten me! I said I won’t move okay!”

 “I know that Kai and I trust you but, you know what you’re like. Plus if you move more than you need to it could cause damage to your new limbs; irreparable damage. I would be negligent if I let that happen. I’ll only be gone for about half an hour at most. Just… Sit tight okay?”

 With a soft sigh, Kai looked away; pouting like a child as he grumbled a “Fine” under his breath.

 “Don’t worry. I won’t be long. I tell you what, I’ll bring you something nice.” Winking your grinned as you shut the door behind you letting him get the rest he would need still. 

 ~ ~

 You ran back as fast as you could, how could today have been so… so… He was going to kill you! You knew it!

 You just could not get away, every time you were due to get away from someone you were once again dragged away; you couldn’t exactly tell them that you had one of the biggest criminals tied down in one of your off the books surgeries could you?

 Busting in through the door and dropping the bags you were carrying, your eyes landed on the empty bed and the removed restrains. “Oh no…”

 “Oh no indeed.” A voice spoke from behind you and quickly spinning on your heel you were face to face with Kai.

 “Oh thank goodness Kai, I am so sorry, I don’t know what happened and-” Your words were quickly cut off when you were pushed back onto the bed.

 “Oh yes, you will be sorry. Five hours, FIVE FUCKING HOURS I was left on the bed!” He turned his head slightly and gritted his teeth under his mask.

 “Please Kai, I’m sorry. I tried to get away and they kept…” You began but could not finish as you were pushed back again. As you fell back on the bed, Kai gripped your wrist and began to strap the restraint over it.

 “Oh you’ll be sorry. We’ll see what you can do to make it up to me for this.” He grinned under his mask and walked around the other side of the bed, quickly grabbing your other wrist. In a panic you kicked and yelled but he was much stronger than you, even with his new arms and post op recovery.

 “Kai… Kai… What are you doing? Untie me. Please.” You begged but he just towered over you at the foot of the bed.

 “Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you Doc, I’m just going to make you regret keeping me tied up for five hours.” He leaned forward and tapped your foot. “Just sit tight okay?”

 The breath in your chest hung as you thought what he could do, the punishments a villain like him could put upon someone; you had seen him seriously hurt many people. He wouldn’t do that to you would he?

 Closing your eyes tight as he leaned over, you were surprised by what he did first.

 Laughter burst out of your lungs as he began to tickle your feet, under arms and under your kneecaps. Why did he know exactly where to tickle you! Stretching up and pulling at the restraints you laughed hard, coughing and choking as you tried to breath. Finally begging to stop worked as he stepped back. Circling the bed like a vulture in the desert with its prey in sight, Kai stopped behind your head, leaning over he looked at you and pulled his mask away slightly before removing your own for you.

 “Don’t worry Angel, I’m not going to kill you, or hurt you. Why would I? I’m just going to make you wish you’d never locked me up.” He grinned and gave your forehead a soft peck.

 Staring up at Kai, you were speechless, a hot flush running along your cheeks at the kiss off your forehead.

 “Look at you, all red and flustered, you’d think that you had a crush on me.” Kai grinned as he towered over you. Your eyes quickly turned away as he mentioned it.

 “Yeah… that would be silly.” You mumble and Kai let out a loud laugh.

 “I’m not stupid you know Angel, I know you like me; I mean…” He reached out and flicked his finger; a loud gasp left your lips and you looked down at your body to see you flushes stained cheeks. “You really like being tied up don’t you Angel? Have you ever tried it?”

 Nervously you nod. “A few times… but…”

 “But what? You’ve never been with anyone for long?”

 You nod slowly and bite your lip.

 “Me too.” Kai replied and sighed. “Look Angel… I… I might be a bit of an arsehole but… I appreciate everything you do… and… I… I kinda… like you too.”

 The two of you were silent as you stared up at him and he stared down at you. “Well… you… You have me here…” You mumble and then could not believe you said it. With a surprised smile Kai looked down at you.

 “Oh really now? For such an innocent doctor you really are needy aren't you?.” He laughed and grinned, slowly one hand went out of view and your vision went dark as something slapped you on the face. Warm, musky and… and… Wide eyed you stared up at Kai as you realised what was on your face.

 “So… if I was to put my dick here, what would you do?” Kai asked and you breathed slowly, nervously, you turned your head and opened your mind. The grin on Kai’s face as he stepped back slightly and thumbed his tip to your lips.

 “Good doc…” He purred and slowly began to slide inside your own lips. You’d never done this before in this position but already you wanted more. You were pretty skilled at this without your gag reflex and as Kai grunted, he reached out and put his hand on your bulging throat. With several slaps of your face with his balls, you could feel him tensing and getting faster.

 The warmth and suddenness of the act left you coughing and for once; gagging as your airways were filled. Stepping back and accidental slapping and dribbling over your face, Kai panted as he held himself up by the nearby wall.

 “Damn Angel… you… you’re…” He panted and after managing to cough and swallow as much as you can, you whimpered the words quietly. “Please… fuck me…”

 Kai stared over at you as the grin on his face began to grow. “As you prescribe doctor~.”

 Now laying on your front, the slap against your rear stung but… felt so good. You had dreamt of this in the dark nights and late work hours when you were alone, now it was going to happen and here you were; tied to a medical bed. This was not exactly the romantic night you expected; no dinner and no dancing, no long cuddling and foreplay; unless you classed the teasing as foreplay.

 ‘Oh god, that had been foreplay.’ You thought as you tried to look back at Kai, the way you were restrained meant you couldn’t turn your head very far. You saw his shoulder and his arms moving, grabbing something from the cupboard before turning back to you. A soft splurge noise and then a cold feeling down the crack of your rear. A soft gasp left your lips as you shuddered at the feeling.

 “Oh don’t be such a wuss Doctor, it’s only a bit of lubrication; unless you want me to go without?” Kai asked with a teasing tone to his voice.

 In a soft squeak you found your voice whimpering out. “N… no…”

 “Alright then.” Kai whispered and let his hand drop his cock down onto your waiting hole. You felt the heavy weight on your cheeks, the warmth passing through the cold lube and to your now chilled rear. The air in your lungs hung deep and you had to think hard to remember to breathe.

 “Ready Angel?” He asked in a soft tone and you nodded, letting out a soft whimper as you did so.

 The first bit of pressure began and you closed your eyes, soft breaths and relaxing thoughts as you tried to loosen your body. The only issue was it did not stop, you tried to relax but the pressure built and built; when would that damn head pass!

 When it did, the feeling of the pop through your body and the sudden half-thrust brought a loud gasp from your lips.

 “You sound so cute there Angel, you enjoying it?”

 “Hmm hmm.” You manage to reply.

 “Well let's let you relax and get used to this, because I’m going to give you this and then I’m going to wreck you. You want that?”

 “Hmm hmm.” You manage to reply again. Kai let out a soft chuckle and began to buck his hips.

 The night could not last long enough.

[maysbanks]

she moves in her own way. (jj maybank)

due to the ASTOUNDING response to my first jj fic which i have to say a huuuge thank you to everyone that liked, commented & reblogged, it honestly means the absolute world !! i couldn't wait much longer to start writing for my boy again, i have so many fic ideas and cannot wait to get them out to y'all. this one is shorter than the last, & the title is inspired from the song 'she moves in her own way' by the kooks (lol) but isn't necessarily based off of it, it's just something that i wrote up quickly bc i was in my feels™️ . also i feel very unoriginal with the whole plot and aspect of this but im gonna post it anyway bc i love jj lmao. anyway hope u enjoy !

warnings: swearing, underage drinking, drug use, violence, jj with a gun™️

summary: reader walks the fine line between either pogue or kook, though technically a kook, she ignores all social standings of the obx and jj maybank cannot stop himself from getting caught up in her whirlwind.

( gif isn’t mine! please let me know if it’s yours so i can credit you. )

Everyone seemed to have a different perspective of you, unsurprisingly. You weren't really much of a social butterfly, you kept yourself to yourself, really. Nobody in the Outer Banks knew much about you at all, other than what they had come up with in their heads. And while you tried your best to stay in the shadows, that only seemed to make you stand out more.

You were known for being the best of both worlds - not really a Pogue, but not really a Kook either. While your social status and family wealth suggested you to be a Kook, your free spirit and reckless behaviour fitted you better towards the Pogue style. If anyone were to ask you, you told them you were neither.

Why should a name define you anyway? You thought it was all bullshit, the stupid territorial arguments and the snide comments from both sides. You thought it was ridiculous, you weren't living in The Outsiders, for fuck sake.

You moved in your own way, simple as that. You wouldn't let anyone tell you what to do, where you can't or shouldn't be, it was a free country you'd say, middle finger salute ready to aim towards anyone who dared cross you. You were an enigma, wild and careless, unforgiving and unforgettable. You didn't necessarily like the attention, but you got it. And you knew it, and you played on it, too.

You had used your irresistible charm more than enough times to bail JJ Maybank out of trouble, despite your parents' protest. They didn't have a problem with the Pogues, persay, how could they when your dad been one half of his life before meeting your mom and marrying into the rich lifestyle; they just had a problem with JJ, as many of the parents on the island did. He was an unstoppable force to be reckoned with, weed smoking, knuckles constantly torn, skin bruised, quick wit, sarcastic humour, daddy issues, you know the type. Kids loved him, parents hated him.

You were friends with JJ, you supposed. You spent your time with him talking about your days and smoking a joint, meaningful conversations turning into joking and general tomfoolery within seconds. With JJ, you were simply unapologetically you, and JJ never judged you. He never made you choose a side, seemingly content with the fact that you were a little bit of everything, though there was times when he teased you relentlessly about the Kook life, but that was just JJ.

And despite the social differences, him being a Pogue through and through, you technically a Kook, you were drawn to each other pretty easily. Not that you hung out all the time, but you loved every second when you did, usually joined by his group of best friends - John B, Pope, and Kiara. With Kiara a Kook herself but drawn more to the lifestyle of the Pogue's, she understood you more than anyone. You'd bonded a lot, and with each of them too.

JJ loved that you fitted in with them, like a missing puzzle piece. So perfectly, it shook him to its core. The pair of you were close, but he had no idea where he stood with you, like most people never when it came to you. You were like a rollercoaster, taking people for the most exciting ride of their lives that lasted a full three or so minutes before they returned back to solid ground. You'd given JJ a ride a number of times on your non-existent metaphorical rollercoaster, and he'd returned for another ride time and time again. You couldn't say no to that damned boy.

It was a blessing and a curse, the unspoken relationship you shared. A blessing because JJ was the best thing that happened to you, and a curse because that was your downfall. You never got attached to people, never given yourself the chance. But then JJ Maybank had come along, blonde hair and blue eyes, split lip and sharpened teeth, words cunning. You saw him as a challenge at first, the name Kook Princess haunting you as he spoke them, stood in front of you at the keg upon your first real meeting. He'd held a drink out towards you, smirk perfect on his pink lips.

You'd attended over a hundred kegger's in your lifetime, the Pogue parties more inviting than those of the Kook's. You danced and talked to anyone that came across your path, whether it be unknowing Tourons, unjudging Pogues, or unforgiving Kooks, you drew them all in. You didn't fit in with any of them, JJ had realised. You really did move in your own way, he thought. He liked that, he'd decided. And hey, you were pretty cute too.

On that particular night, he'd spoken to you directly for the first time in a long time. "Would the Kook Princess like a drink?" He'd asked, holding the red cup out towards you. You'd eyed the offended object, and subsequently him, too. He smirked at the attention. You had rolled your eyes.

"Don't call me that," you'd said simply, but taking the cup from his hands regardless. You took a sip, relieved to discover that he hadn't tampered with it in any way. You were still considered a Kook to most people, after all. You could never be too careful. "Thanks, Maybank."

And he'd blinked at you, lips suddenly raising to a sly smile as he shrugged, dimples winking at you as they appeared in his cheeks. "Anytime," and he'd spoken your name back to you and you couldn't get enough of the way it sounded coming from his mouth, and you realised hey, this guy is pretty cute, and the rest, as they, is history.

You were in the midst of another infamous Pogue kegger at the current, months after your first introduction to JJ Maybank and his friends, and you stood off to the side, listening to JJ intently as he ranted about the events of the day he'd endured. Starting from finding a Grady White sunken in the marsh, "A fucking Grady Marsh, they're like 500 G's man!", to discovering that the boat belonged to Scooter Grubbs, who had coincidentally been found dead that same day, to getting chased by two guys with a gun, to the finding of the motel key from the wreck and breaking in that same motel room, finding a safe full of money and a gun of all things, to their best attempt at laying low which, unsurprisingly, resulted in the kegger in the first place.

JJ was wild in his recite of the events, hands gesturing every which way as you watched him with your lips curled into your mouth, resisting a smile at his antics. When he finished he retelling, you raised an eyebrow and chuckled dryly. "So, complete and utter boring day for you, huh?"

JJ chuckled along with you, shaking his head as if he was still in disbelief from everything that had happened in the past twenty four hours. "Man, it was crazy," he muttered. He looked at you then, eyes sincere. "I wish you were there with us. It was like something straight from a movie, I'm telling you. I feel like such a badass with that gun."

Your secret joy at his confession of that he wished you were was short lived, as the last of his words sunk in and you felt dread build in the pit of your stomach. You stared at him, him so excited that he hadn't even realised your face had dropped, before you reached out and grabbed his arm, effectively halting his movements and stopping the hurried flow of words that were leaving his mouth.

"JJ," you said carefully, eyes trained on his as he stared, clueless. "Please tell me you did not take that gun from the safe."

Your heart dropped as you saw him falter, his lips helplessly moving but no words coming out. He held a hand up, as if to hush you, though you hadn't started to speak again, and then his hand had dropped just as quick as it was raised, his teeth biting down on his chapped lip as the realisation dawned on you.

"JJ Fucking Maybank," you spat, hands slapping gently at his arms, because you could never really hurt him, you just wanted him to know you were pissed. "Do you realise how fucking careless that is? How much trouble you could get into, if anyone knew you had a gun-" your voice trailed off, your eyes closing as you exhaled. "JJ, please tell me you don't have it on you right now."

His lack of reply was the only answer you needed, and your stomach churned as you stepped back from his figure, suddenly feeling sick. He followed you, though, not letting you get too far as he took your arms in his hands and tried to drag you closer to him once more. You shook your head, arms slipping from his hold as you glared at him fiercely.

"That's so fucking stupid, JJ. You could get into serious trouble with this, trouble I won't be able to get you out of." You warned, because you knew it was true. Your charm and looks could get him out of some trouble to its extent, but it was more so your parents wealth and status that got the both of you out of shit when you managed to get into it, and you also knew your parents would literally throw a fit if you got involved in something like this - carrying a gun was no joking matter. You stepped back once more, hand finding its way to your forehead. "And from a crime scene, no less. Fucking hell."

JJ licked his lips, standing back roughly as you watched, his jaw clenching. "Well I'm not asking for your help here, Princess," he taunted, the nickname sending a wave of annoyance through you. JJ knew it would. "It's not like I ask you to help me, you're just there. Thinking I need help, like I'm some fucking charity case, a fucking doll you picked up from the thrift store that was gonna be thrown out the next day."

You tried to protest, but JJ didn't give you the chance. "I don't need your help all the fucking time. I don't need your pity. I get that you won't understand because why would you? You're a Kook, you get everything you want handed to you on a silver platter. And you can argue and fight me about it all you want, but I know you know it's true."

He sighed heavily, hands running down his face in a sign of defeat. You watched him all the while, thankful that you had ventured off the outskirts of the party so that hopefully nobody had heard JJ shouting at you, your heart wrenching as his blue eyes settled on you. "I'm sorry, JJ," you said finally. You refused to cry, though the desire to at the sight of him being so mad at you tore you apart. "I'm just trying to look out for you. With the gun thing, with everything that I help you with. And I know I'm a Kook, and I know that my parents could afford to buy half of this fucking island if they pleased, but that doesn't define me. I care, okay? And I know I care a lot more than a lot of people in your life."

It was probably a low blow, and you knew it. But JJ took it in, let the words sink into his brain where they stayed there, his fists clenching at his sides. You crossed your arms over your chest, defeated.

"I'm gonna go back to the party," you whispered. "I'll see you around, I guess." You eyed his pockets, unsure of where exactly he held the gun. "Be careful, okay."

And even when you were angry with him, you still tried to make sure he was okay, that he stayed safe. There was multiple occasions you'd showed up unannounced, simply asking how his day was, if he okay, if he had eaten that day, stayed hydrated. At first the attention startled him, he'd never really had anyone look out for him in that aspect, and yet there you were, like an angel sent from the gods themselves, smiling down at him.

You cared, he realised. You cared so much that sometimes he couldn't take it, because he didn't know how. The most family he'd ever gotten close to having in his life was the Pogues, after losing his mother and subsequently losing his father too as he turned into the monster that he was, cold and distant, fists always poised ready for an imaginary fight, and he knew that someday the Pogues would even slip through his fingers. He couldn't let that happen with you. He wouldn't.

He'd started off in your direction, truly, he had. But then John B was grabbing him and averting his attention to him, and he focused on his friend, promising only a minute of his time. You were in his sights, stood a bit away, and he recognised the couple you were talking to as Sarah Cameron and Topper Thorton, Kooks through and through. He held his distaste back, and even held a drink out to offer to Sarah as she and Topper made their way past where he and John B were standing. Big fucking mistake, he realised quickly.

It had all happened in a blur of events, each little bit leading to big finale - as he watched his best friend being held down in the water, powerless to Topper who kneeled over him, hands forcing John B to stay put in the sea. Sarah was screaming at Topper, Pope was holding JJ back with all his might, Kie beside them as she screamed along with Sarah to let John B go. And there you were, suddenly beside JJ, gripping his arm tightly as you took in the sight with a horrified glare. JJ didn't even hesitate; the gun had been pulled from his shorts and was directed at Topper's head in the blink of an eye.

The fury in his veins was red hot and ugly, tearing through every part of him like a vice. This was the Pogues land, their side of the island, and yet the Kooks still thought they could get away with anything and everything - including, apparently, attempting to drown his best friend.

"Your move, broski," JJ uttered through clenched teeth. He could hear the screams of the crowd behind him, and he pulled the gun away from Topper's head and into the direction of the sky, firing two shots towards it as the crowd of people quickly dispersed, screeches sounding from all over. "Now everybody needs to get the fuck off our side of the island!"

He was shoved to the side as Sarah rushed to her boyfriend, telling him he was fucking crazy or something like that, he wasn't really listening. The shots rang in his ears, and the adrenaline of the moment soured through him. Kie and Pope were screaming at him, he could hear their voices distantly. His blue eyes were unfocused for a second, before they looked up, and there you were.

Sent from the gods themselves, once again. You looked vibrant, so insanely alive, lips red and cheeks flushed, eyes bright. You let out a shaky breath as you watched him. JJ clenched his jaw.

"He was going to drown John B," he thought he'd said, but he wasn't sure. He didn't really know what to keep track of at that moment, Kie and Pope's obvious disapproval at him literally doing the one thing they swore not to do, Sarah and Topper stumbling away from the scene in the distance, John B getting up and muttering something along the lines of he wasn't going to drown me, or you, simply staring at him.

Before he knew what he was doing, JJ had made his way towards you. The gun was still held in his hands, and you swallowed thickly as you eyed it. "You should put that away," you muttered. JJ seemed confused, before he caught on to what you meant and he shoved the gun back to the spot of in between his shorts and his hip. "You literally did the one thing I said not to, you tool."

JJ cracked a smile, small and uncertain as he gazed at you. You stepped closer to him, eyes glancing over his shoulder. "You really pissed them off," you said, meaning his friends.

JJ shrugged, because he didn't care about their opinion, he cared about yours. And if you hated him now, hated the fact that he was just some dirty Pogue who held guns against people's heads now, apparently. "I don't care about what they think," he spoke softly. You looked at him confused. "I care about what you think."

You smiled softly, shrugging one shoulder. "Topper was going to drown John B," you replied, matter of fact. "If you hadn't stepped in when you did, who knew what could have happened. Nothing could have stopped him." You bit your lip, hand reaching out and touching his face gently, thumb soothing over the worried line between his brows. "You did the right thing, J. A fucking crazy and stupid thing, potientally dangerous, but the right thing nonetheless."

"Yeah, that's kind of my go-to, if you haven't already noticed," JJ smiled, tongue running over his bottom lip. You rolled your eyes, though playful. "Look, I'm sorry about before, okay. I was a dick. I know you care, but sometimes that's what scares me."

Your eyebrows furrowed, a confused expression on your face as your hand dropped from his face to intertwine with his own hand, his gaze suddenly becoming fixed on your linked hands, his other absentmindedly playing with your fingers that held his hand.

"It's like, you're this untouchable thing. I mean, you don't belong to anyone, you refuse to go by anything other than your name, and you're like this perfect mix between Pogue and Kook even if you do hate it and everyone knows who are you and they make these stories up about you, like that's how popular you are," JJ chuckled. "And then you hang out with me, you look past all the dirty Pogue shit, see me for who I am, and you care. And you care so god dammed much that it fucking terrifies me because nobody's ever cared that much before about me, so why should you?"

His hand left yours to remove the hat from sitting atop his hair and then run his hand through the blonde locks. You could see his tongue running along the outsides of his bottom teeth, the action causing a bump beneath his skin. He looked nervous than you had ever seen him before, and you'd both gotten into enough nerve-wracking situations together to compare. You sighed as your hands reached for his face, gripping his cheeks and forcing his eyes to gaze down at yours.

"JJ Maybank," you started, grinning softly. "You listen to me while I tell you that you deserve the fucking world and more. All this shit that you're going through, all the crap you deal with on a daily basis, you carry it so well that nobody would even know. You fight through each day and I don't even know how you manage it half the time. I admire you so much, J. And I can't help but care about you, even if you don't want me to. I care about you so much, that you wanna know a secret? It scares me too."

JJ gazed down at you lovingly, his forehead moving to rest against yours. You welcomed the embrace, his arms wrapping around your waist and squeezing you gently, as if reassuring himself that you were actually there.

"JJ," you whispered as you were stood in silence for a precise minute, neither of you daring to break the silence until you had. His blue eyes stared into yours, awaiting the next part of your speech. You swallowed your nerves down, figuring fuck it. "I'm so in love with you."

He grinned, his head swooping down before you knew it and his lips pressing against yours in a heated embrace that sent a sensation of butterflies to fly wildly in your stomach, bashing against your ribcage and taking your breath away. Shivers flew up your spine, and every hair on your body stood on edge as the kiss grew heavier, tongues brushing and teeth clattering, bodies pressed against each other as much as they could manage.

When JJ's lips left yours, you almost whined. JJ grinned cheekily, hands digging into your hips. "I love you," he breathed against the skin of your neck as he buried his head there, lips tickling the flesh. "I can't believe you just macked on me while I have a gun in my pocket."

You rolled your eyes and tugged gently on his hair, spurring a laugh from him as you shoved him away and grinned despite yourself. "Do not remind me, please," you warned him, allowing him to pull you into his side as you made your way down the beach. "I still can't believe you took that thing."

"I knew it'd come in handy though," he grinned, pulling you closer with the arm thrown over your shoulder. You wrapped yours around his waist, face squished in his chest as you shook your head.

"You're an idiot, Maybank."

[shitty-marvel-fan732]

Hi! I LOVED your peter x Barnes-Rogers post, I was wondering if you could do one where maybe Peter (being the lovable dummy that he is) feels like the only way he can protect her is to break up with her?

Thank you so much for this ask! I loved writing this. So sorry that this has taken so long, life has been STUPID hard lately. 

So I wrote like 1100 words for this ask, because I have no self-control lmao. So I broke this into two parts, and I’ll post the second part a lil bit later in the week. 

Title: Guilty, Part 1 of 2

Pairing: Peter Parker x Barnes-Rodgers!Reader

Requested: Yes!

Warnings: Peter is a sad boy, slight injuries, and I think that’s it?

Summary: Peter is worried the dangers of being Spiderman’s girlfriend are too much for you. 

Link to Part 2

"Mmmm yeah no I'd definitely fuck Spiderman."

Peter nearly choked on his slice of pizza. Face rapidly turning pink at the mention of his alter ego, he whipped his head around in an attempt to locate the source of the somewhat disturbing statement. It seemingly came from a group of sophomore girls sitting a few tables behind his -- the girls were all furiously giggling at their friend who looked utterly unashamed at her bold declaration. Peter couldn't help the small smile that stretched across his lips. He knew that those girls had no idea who Spiderman really was, and even if they did he was more than happy in his current relationship. Still, the sentiment was a little flattering all the same.

Or disturbing. He couldn't quite tell which.

"Pete?"

Peter's attention was pulled back to his own table, the soft call of his name from you all he really needed to refocus completely. You were gazing up at him from your seat next to him, beautiful features gleaming with a look of amused curiosity as you silently asked what had him so distracted. Sending you a reassuring glance and squeezing your hand that was nestled firmly in his, he shook his head. 

"I'll tell you later," he mouthed.

You quirked an eyebrow and shot him a look that clearly said 'you'd better' before turning your attention back to the conversation you and Ned had previously been having.

Watching the two of you argue childishly over your opinions on what the better Star Wars adaptation was, Peter couldn't help but grin. A wave of affection washed over him and butterflies danced happily in his stomach at the sight of you interacting so naturally with his best friend. He'd known Ned and MJ for much longer than you had, but over the time you two had been dating you'd effortlessly folded yourself into his small group of friends. Even though it's been months now, the simplest of interactions still warmed his heart and filled him with pride.

Despite the interruption, Peter's ears were still trained on the conversation of the group of girls behind him.

"Say what you want, Bucky Barnes is absolutely the hottest avenger," he heard another girl chime in over the dull hum of the other conversations in the busy cafeteria. He wrinkled his nose a little, an involuntary shudder going through him at the mention of your dad in this context.

"Mm, sure but let's be honest dating a superhero would be fucking awful," the first girl grumbled. Peter frowned.

"Are you nuts? It would be amazing!" her friend replied, disbelief lacing her tone.

"Please," the girl scoffed. "I can't even imagine the kind of scary shit you'd have to deal with on a regular basis."

Peter heard her friend hum thoughtfully.

"I guess, but I mean you'd still get to be with a god. Literally in Thor's case," she giggled.

"Whatever. Just seems downright dangerous if you ask me."

The girls moved on to a different topic, but Peter was still thoroughly distracted by what they'd said. He realized abruptly that he'd never really considered the affect his superhero life could have on you. What if those girls had a point? Was he putting you in harm's way just by pure association? Peter felt his stomach flip and lurch at the mere thought of something happening to you, and the idea that it would be his fault settled like a rock in the bottom of his belly. His mind whirred into overdrive as anxious thoughts filled him with an increasing dread and left him feeling paralyzed.

He was so still, in fact, that you took notice of his motionless form. Even though he was the one with the spidey senses, you seemed to have a knack for knowing when he was upset. Thumb rubbing across his knuckles absentmindedly, your gaze turned towards him once more, a frown marring your soft features.

"Petey? What's wrong?" you muttered quietly, voice just loud enough that you knew he'd hear but low enough that it didn't alert anyone else at the table.

He swallowed thickly and looked over at you. Your eyes were locked in on his face with a sparkle of concern playing in the y/e/c irises. Guilt began to mingle with the anxiety in the pit of his stomach as he noted your slight distress. Shoving all of his feelings down as deep as they would go, he managed a smile and kissed your cheek softly in reassurance. 

"Don't worry about it angel, it's nothing," he lied smoothly.

Your eyes narrowed ever so slightly in suspicion, clearly not buying his excuse, but you allowed MJ to pull your attention back to the table's discussion all the same. Peter sighed lightly in relief at the distraction. Though he was turned towards his friends his mind was a million miles away, the girls' words echoing loudly against his skull.

  --------------------

A few hours later Peter was feeling only slightly better.

After lunch he'd managed to make it through the rest of the school day without so much as a second alone with you. While that would ordinarily be a bad thing, he knew that the moment you two were alone that you'd expect an explanation for what happened at lunch. You were incredibly perceptive, and Peter was certain he'd wind up telling you everything. Not 100% sure of his own feelings at the moment and completely terrified of your reaction, he decided to avoid you until he'd processed things. He'd practically ran out the door after the last bell, shouting that he'd meet you at the tower after patrol for your usual study-date and leaving you behind, confused and more than a little suspicious.

Patrol did little to quell his nervousness.

The streets were unusually quiet tonight and the monotony allowed him to picture all kinds of horrible things that could happen to you as a result of being associated with him. He tried to push the thoughts away, but he couldn't help but spiral a little further into his pit of self-doubt. Instead of the distraction he was hoping it'd be, Peter's mind ran wild as he watched the city from above.

Eventually, it came time to meet you, and Peter'd be lying if he didn't admit he was a little relieved. Being separated from you was always difficult, and the withdrawal from your presence felt like it was amplified by his anxious state.

Winding his way through the familiar tower halls, Peter decided he needed to tell you exactly what he was feeling. Though he wasn't much more certain about how he felt, he knew that you would make him feel better. He wasn't used to feeling so disconnected from you, and regardless of his thoughts to the contrary he couldn't quell his desire to be near you. He'd been overwhelmed with the urge to feel your soft skin against his, smell your sweet scent wafting into his nose, and hear your quiet words of reassurance in his ears ever since you'd parted ways earlier in the day. He knew it was selfish, but it felt like he was going to reach his breaking point soon if he didn't get what he needed.

And what he needed was you.

"Oh my god! Y/N, what happened?!" he exclaimed as he finally made his way to the common room and caught sight of you. Caught off guard, you jumped slightly at his bold entrance before grinning widely at him.

"Hiya Petey!"

Ignoring the way you completely evaded the question, he was by your side in an instant. His palms lightly grasped your cheeks as he examined your face gently. You had an angry-looking mark blossoming under your right eye, and your upper lip looked as if it'd only just stopped bleeding. His eyes felt like they were going to pop out of their sockets at the sight of your injuries, and he felt anger bubble up in his chest. For all his over-thinking today Peter never once considered finding you like this.

"Seriously, what the hell happened?" he practically growled, a feeling he could only describe as rage filling him at the thought of someone hurting you. You opened your mouth to speak--

"That's exactly what we were wondering," a voice cut you off before you could reply. Peter turned, surprised to find your dads standing near your desk, arms crossed and expressions furious. He turned back to you only to find you rolling your eyes at the three of them.

"So Y/N, care to explain?" Steve demanded firmly. Peter shuddered a little at the tone of his voice. It was the same one he used in the field --the one you jokingly referred to as his 'Captain-voice' -- that clearly left no room for negotiations.

"I already told you, it's no big deal," you drawled, clearly unfazed by your dads' obvious anger. Peter frowned.

"Are you serious?" he gaped. "You're hurt, of course it's a big deal!"

You rolled your eyes once more, but your face softened just the slightest bit at the evident worry lacing his tone. 

"Doll, just tell us who did this so we can maim them," Bucky practically barked. His hands were clenching and unclenching uncontrollably, and his eyes were alight with a kind of fury that made Peter shiver a little. You, however, either didn't notice his anger or didn't care.

"Oh please, like you all haven't come home from missions with much worse," you snapped. Bucky's jaw twitched in anger, and he opened his mouth to reply.

"We're not talking about us right now," Steve interrupted smoothly. "We're talking about you."

Expression irritated, you opened your mouth --clearly about to spit out a snarky reply-- but Peter cut you off before you had a chance to speak.

"Y/N, please?" he begged quietly. Your eyes snapped over to his face, the irritation fading from your y/e/c irises at his gentle plea. You chewed your lip a little, brows furrowing slightly in contemplation before sighing.

"S'not a big deal," you mumbled. "I just got into a fight with some asshole girls after school today."

"What girls?" Peter asked evenly, fighting the bubble of anger that was threatening to erupt from his body. You just shrugged nonchalantly, evidently unwilling to elaborate further.

"Y/N," Steve said warningly. You sighed, shoulders dropping.

"Just some girls! They were talking shit--," you started, pausing only when Steve shot you a warning glance. "Sorry Pops. Talking trash about dad and Peter, or rather their alter egos I guess. Anyways, I obviously took offense -- you know cause they're morons -- and things just kinda escalated from there."

The effect of your explanation was instant. Steve's hardened expression eased the slightest bit at your story, his eyes flicking to his husband as he cautiously appraised his reaction. To Bucky's credit, if he felt any type of way about what you'd said it didn't show on his face. Bucky remained stoic and he hardly moved a muscle. If it weren't for the fact you knew he had super-hearing you might've thought he hadn't even heard you. Peter, on the other hand…

It was like someone had knocked all the breath out of his body at once. His heart lurched and remorse burned at his insides. His anger quickly gave way to utter guilt, and he felt his face drop despite his best efforts. All the fear and guilt he'd been wrestling with all day felt like nothing compared to now.

You were hurt. And it was his fault.

"Like I said, it's not a big deal," you supplemented quickly as you noted the mens' various reactions. "Seriously, you should see the other girls' faces. I wouldn't be surprised if we get a call from Tiffany H.'s plastic surgeon thanking me for all the money he's about to make."

Peter felt frozen. Normally he would've chuckled at the adorably smug look that'd taken over your features, but he couldn't manage to muster up any feelings outside of his own self-hatred at the moment. Bucky, however, did not seem to share this sentiment. He loudly chuckled at your quip, a proud sparkle gleaming in his eyes and a wide grin plastered across his face. Steve still stood with his arms crossed, expression stern.

"Y/N, you can't just go around getting into fights just because you don't agree with people," he lectured. Bucky snorted.

"Really Stevie?" he chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "I'm getting the most distinct flashbacks of a certain sickly teen who picked fights pretty much wherever he went…"

Steve's face flushed with the slightest twinge of pink at his husband's insinuation. You grinned widely at your dad, clearly delighted with the turn the discussion had taken.

"Again, we're not talking about me," he covered quickly, weakly hiding his embarrassment with a cough. "Y/N, you're grounded. One week, starting now."

Your jaw dropped.

"What?! That's not fair at all!" you spluttered indignantly. "Tell him he's crazy dad!"

Bucky chuckled once more at the sight of your complete and utter shock, his grin only dropping once he caught sight of his husband’s unamused expression. He cleared his throat quickly and crossed his arms once more before shrugging at you.

“Pops is right Y/N, you can’t just go around getting into fights. No matter how good you are at ending them…”

“Oh come on,” you groaned, rubbing a hand across your face in exasperation. “It’s not a big deal, right Pete?”

Peter blinked, pulled only back to the conversation at hand once he heard you call his name. Shaking his head slightly to try and remove the lingering feelings of shock and guilt, he looked blinked slowly as his eyes darted between you and your dads. Opening and closing his mouth wordlessly, he felt utterly at a loss as to how to respond.

"It's a big deal if we say it's a big deal," Steve countered firmly. "So I'm sorry Peter, but you'll have to go now."

You scoffed, arms crossing furiously as your face crumpled into a pout. Ordinarily Peter would've giggled at your childish gesture, but at the moment he could only muster enough attention to nod. 

"Yeah, o-okay. I'll see you later Y/N," he muttered quietly before leaving in a daze.

If he weren't so consumed by his own thoughts he would've seen the look of concern that passed over your face or the confusion spattered across your dads'. But Peter didn't notice either, too busy trying to sort through the torrent of thoughts and feelings currently raging inside his head. He walked out of the tower on autopilot as his mind was wracked with guilt over what'd happened to you. Left with only one possible conclusion, he returned home feeling utterly devastated with what he knew he had to do.

--------------------

Bucky was confused.

He'd noticed a distinct change in his daughter's behavior lately that only seemed to be getting worse. He internally wondered how long this'd gone on, because let's face it, he knew if it gotten to the point that even he'd noticed, then it must've been a while. Bucky used to pride himself on knowing everything about you, but as you'd grown older he found himself knowing less and less. Despite Steve's constant reassurance that it was simply the way things went when kids became teenagers, he still felt that little twinge of guilt in his belly when his seeming ineptitude as a parent was called into focus.

Like now.

You'd become withdrawn and quiet, a far cry from your normally energetic and talkative self. You were spending more and more hours secluded in your bedroom, and he could've sworn he'd caught you looking as if you'd just been crying on more than one occasion. All the signs were pointing towards something bothering you, but Bucky felt utterly lost as to how to determine just what that even was, much less figure out how to help you with it.

Currently, the team was finishing up with their nightly dinner, and your strange behavior was once again on the forefront of his mind. You sat across from him and Steve, looking more like a zombie than anything else. Your normally bright eyes looked dull, the dark bags under each of them looking practically a mile long. The food on your plate looked untouched, and Bucky felt a stab of panic deep in his chest as he realized he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen you actually eat something.

"You okay doll?" he questioned you softly, voice low. You hardly moved, the brief flash of your eyes towards his the only indication that you'd even heard him.

"I'm fine," you muttered, gaze dropping to your dinner and fork moving more of your food around aimlessly as you fell silent once more. Bucky's brows furrowed deeper at your dull response, the lingering fear and discomfort settling deeper into his stomach. Steve eyed the two of you, expression full of concern. His hand gently rested over Bucky's in a show of solidarity with his husband until Bucky's gaze moved towards him.

"Any idea what that's all about?" he muttered quietly. Steve just shrugged, but his clear blue eyes were brimming with the same look of concern and slight confusion as Bucky's.

"Can I be excused now?" you mumbled without so much as a glance upwards. Steve shared a worried glance with Bucky before he cleared his throat.

"You have to eat something Y/N/N," Steve replied quietly. "Can't you just take a couple of bites?"

"S'cold," you protested, voice still devoid of any emotion. A flash of memory invaded his mind of he and Steve cooing and pleading with you as an infant, trying helplessly to get you to eat your food. He fondly remembered the way your chubby arms would cross as you stubbornly refused to eat your pureed food, a picture perfect miniature of Steve. His heart twisted painfully at the stark contrast of that strong-willed little toddler with the shell of a teen he saw now.

"Go into the kitchen and heat it up then," Bucky tried. You didn't move an inch. "Please?"

Sighing, you brought you picked up your plate and trudged away. Bucky let out a sigh of relief, but ran his fingers through his hair nonetheless as confusion and concern continued to rage fitfully in his mind. Steve didn't appear to be fairing much better -- he sat stoically next to him with both hands folded tensely under his chin.

"Seriously Steve, what the hell is going on with her?" Bucky asked exasperatedly. His husband sighed, his own fingers moving to rub against his eyes tiredly.

"Do you two honestly not get what's bothering her?" Natasha interrupted quietly. The supersoldiers glanced over, and she rolled her eyes at them. "Seriously? It's been like 2 weeks."

Now it was Bucky's turn to roll his eyes at her flippant tone.

"So are you gonna tell us what's bothering her, or are you just gonna judge us some more?" he huffed. Nat smiled coyly, relaxing back in her seat and folding her arms across her chest.

"I feel like I can manage both," she quipped good-naturedly. Steve sighed again.

"Come on Nat, just tell us. Please?" he begged, eyes silently pleading with the redhead. Nat seemed to soften a little at this, her green eyes flicking towards the kitchen quickly before she leaned across the table.

"Since I'm certain you'll never figure it out on your own, I'll tell you. But you have to swear you won't let her know that I'm the one who told," she muttered secretively. Bucky nodded dumbly, too eager to figure out what was eating you to care about her somewhat condescending tone. "Haven't you noticed that there's been one less arachnid-themed hero around the tower lately?"

"No. Wait, you mean Parker?" Bucky answered suspiciously. Nat rolled her eyes again before nodding tersely.

"Mhm. Seems like our resident kid-genius broke up with your girl, and now she's completely devastated."

Bucky felt his face furrow into an even deeper frown. Of course Parker had something to do with this.

"So you're saying she and Peter broke up and that's why she's been like this?" Steve interjected, his face a mirror of his husband's. Nat nodded once more, eyes flicking to the kitchen as she heard the beeping of the microwave.

"Yep. Well, to be more accurate he broke up with her, hence her mood," she whispered. Anger began to churn in Bucky's stomach and he felt his fists clench unintentionally at the accusation.

"That little punk," he seethed. "Who does he think he is leaving her like this?"

"I don't know the exact details, and I don't think she really does either," Nat continued. "She said he mentioned something vague about 'not being able to keep her safe' before just cutting off all contact. Poor kid didn't even get a say in it."

"That doesn't make any sen-"

"Hello my little дорогая," she greeted you warmly, voice raising back to a normal volume as you slumped down into the seat next to hers. You managed a half-hearted smile towards the assassin before you began lightly picking at your food. Steve clamped his mouth shut at the sight of you, the grateful smile he shot your way not reaching his eyes. It seemed that the talk with Natasha hadn't made your situation much clearer for him, and he looked utterly confused and perhaps more concerned than he had before.

But Bucky wasn't.

Something Nat said had triggered something for him -- a tiny piece of information that'd seemed inconsequential at the time that now made sense. Grabbing his husband's hand and squeezing it firmly, he gave Steve one last reassuring glance before he left the table. He knew what he had to do.

[assassins-and-hidden-blades]

Interrogation

15/06/2020: Sooo, hi there. Me and @marshmallow--3​ were talking (once again) and we got to talking about how assassins would react while being interrogated. Naturally, I like my dark fics + my hurt/comfort fics, so this came out. It’s an experiment than unashamedly spans 4.5K words, but I enjoyed writing it and after a bit of convincing I decided to post it. I worked surprisingly hard on this. I also like putting my characters through their paces. This can also be considered as an ‘asshole writing 101′ course for me bc everyone knows I need it lmao. Okay, enough justification; just... here -- have Jacob needing a lot of hugs :) heed the warnings, friends -- you have been warned. Spoilers for the fic in the warnings, btw

Feedback is greatly appreciated :D

Also, mainly GN!Reader (apart from the first scene) :)

Italics are thoughts bt-dubs.

Warnings: Swearing, violence, beaten for information, abduction, sick mention, PTSD mention, Night terrors, naked mention (sfw we good)... Yeah I got a bit carried away here :3 (if I missed any please lmk)

----------

“Jacob, we need that intel.”

“Why does it have to be me? I prefer to have my weapons on my person, if you don’t mind.” Jacob was sitting at the desk everyone was talking around, feet crossed on the desk.

“Maybe it’s because it’s a Gentleman’s Club, and women don’t necessarily fit in; if they find a single blade on you, the entire mission is compromised.” Evie looked pointedly at her brother. 

He looked to you for help, but you held your hands up in surrender. “Don’t look at me; she’s got a point.”

Sighing, he rose to his feet, leaning against the wood and drumming his fingers against it. “Fine. Who am I tailing again?”

----------

“Weapons, please.” Evie stopped him before he could go anywhere.

“What weapons?” He smiled innocently at his sister, while you scoffed amusedly from behind her. 

She said nothing, and instead held her hand out expectantly. Obstinately, Jacob relented, pulling out his cane sword and giving her his thigh holster. “All of them.” 

His kukri came out of his waistcoat.

“All. Of. Them.”

His gauntlet was reluctantly confiscated. As was his revolver.

Evie raised an eyebrow. “Alright, fine!” He reached into his boot and pulled out another knife. “How did you know?”

“I saw you hide it.”

When they were finished, you walked up to him. “Be back by tonight. Alright?” You kissed him softly. He broke apart and gave you a reassuring smile. “You’ll barely notice I’m gone.” As the train came to a stop, you watched as he blended into the crowd at the station, disappearing in the blink of an eye. 

----------

The courier Jacob was supposed to tail wasn’t too hard to find. Bowler hat, stocky build, weird scar on his cheek… All he had to do was get close enough to hear the password, get in and get out. 

But first, he had to follow him there. In unfamiliar territory. No gangs, no Rooks.

Jacob left his top hat on the train, opting for using his hood as an added source of anonymity as he stalked his target. The streets were busy, and he lost eyes on the man’s bowler hat once or twice, but all in all, it was going smoothly. They were halfway down a street when the target crossed the road and went into an alleyway, sparse of people. 

Jacob looked both ways before crossing after him, walking through as naturally as possible, in case he runs into people he would rather avoid. The road took him into a clearing blocked in by buildings, but not a man in sight. His brows furrowed, confused at where his target could have gone. Looking around, he saw that there was only one exit, and that was behind him. There was no way the target could have circled back around without him noticing.

“Wait a second…” 

There were multiple small clicks, before multiple people came out of nowhere, all pointing firearms at him. Jacob raised his hands in surrender, taking small, calculated steps backwards. “Let’s just take it easy for a moment; I’m sure this is all a misunderstanding.”

“Our boss wants you alive. I couldn’t really care. It’s best if you cooperate, Mr Frye; I’m thinking you’ll put up less of a fight dead.” The hammer was pulled down with a resounding ‘click’ for good measure. The more Jacob observed, the more Templar crosses he could find. 

Oh, for the love of--

Before he could react, two feet came into contact with the back of his knees, and he was forced face down to the ground. His shoulders were pinned as his arms were forced behind his back. He blindly managed to hit someone with his elbow, but it never released any pressure as he felt thick rope cinch around his wrist and knotted tightly, lest he manage to break free of them. “Are you certain we can’t come to some sort of agreement?” His words came out half mumbled, as his face was pushed against the mud.

All too suddenly he was pulled back up to his knees, a very gruff sounding “Get up,” mumbled in his ear. The one seemingly in charge of this whole operation stood in front of him. Sounds of an approaching carriage came closer. Assessing the distance between the two, Jacob smirked. “I hate to disappoint you, but I’m spoken for.” 

The man standing over him didn’t react. “Do it,” he said to the people holding him. 

Jacob’s jaw was prised open before a rag was forced in, a bag coming over his head a moment after. He was pulled roughly to his feet and couldn’t get a stable footing before a force threw him backwards, landing on the floor of the carriage with his hands trapped under him. A noise escaped his throat. Jacob could only hope to use his sense of hearing as he shuffled backwards to lean against the door behind him, as multiple people entered the carriage and shut the door -- to supervise, no doubt. The wall was hit two times, and the horses began to trot.  

The journey was the only time he could hope to escape; who knows how they’d be keeping him once they arrived.

He couldn’t help cursing himself under his breath, but it was only comprehended as a random noise to the others in the cab. Jacob began to wiggle his fingers, digits searching the wall behind him for something sharp, like a nail or some splintered wood. His fidgeting must have been noticed, because someone lightly kicked his leg. “Don’t even think about it.” He felt something cold press against his temple, a click sounding in his left ear. He held an involuntary breath as light chuckles rippled around the carriage.

“Forgive me for not finding this funny…” he quipped inwardly.

The gun barrel mockingly shoved Jacob’s head to the side, a silent threat, before withdrawing. 

He had a three mile long argument to have with Evie after this.

He tried to swallow, pushing down the rising anxiety in his throat. Is there a way out of this that wouldn’t end with a bullet in his brain?

There must be.

His fists clench and unclench restlessly as he thinks. Or, tries to think.

All he could decipher was the carriage turning right, pressing him against the wall behind him, before stopping. There was a long moment of waiting, before the door he was leaning against opened. He fell to the ground, the air knocked out of him. Without giving him a moment to collect himself, hands grabbed his arms and pulled. His orientation was in shambles; he couldn’t figure out which way was where. 

There were momentary pauses as doors opened, and just as he had begun to breathe properly, he was shoved. His balance was thrown off, and wood bit into him as he rolled down an incline. He hit the floor ungracefully, half haphazardly dragging a knee up; he was pushed down some stairs. Stifled groans were muted by his gag as they yanked him up again, pushing him down onto a chair. Multiple people tightly bound his ankles to the legs and his wrists between the rungs, the pressure pinning him down causing his heart to skip a beat. 

He hated this feeling of restriction; of being exposed. He knew he had no control. He knew he was fucked.

His head began to throb, no doubt an injury from his tirade with the stairs. As the people around him left, he tested his bonds. There was no give whatsoever; the rope bound his wrists to the rungs behind him, pulling his shoulders taut. He tried lifting his leg; he could bounce them, but that was it. It was instinct; the restless energy needing a bigger outlet. His anxiety was palpable, and he found himself exhaling through his nose multiple times in an attempt to calm himself down. He tried to look around through the material over his head, increasingly desperate, though he knew his chances of escaping were low now that they had him exactly where they wanted him. He briefly wondered whether he’d ever see natural daylight again. 

… Shit.

He had no idea where he was; if he got out, then what? He’d have to cross that bridge when he comes to it.

If he comes to it.

Resigning himself to wait, he sat straight, challenging his bonds every now and then, hoping that the next time would be different.

It didn’t take too much longer for the door to open again, but the fear inside him was painful, squeezing his heart in an iron fist. He strained his ears, and heard multiple light footsteps, followed by a distinct pair of slow and heavy ones. They screamed authority as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

The bag was pulled harshly from his head, light blinding him as he squinted, trying to acquaint himself with the area around him. Jacob tried to swallow his anxiety as he took in the newcomer’s appearance; easily over six foot, and built of pure muscle. 

Bloody hell.

Someone came up to him and pulled the gag out of his mouth. He tried re-introducing saliva as the man came closer, his small entourage disbanding around the room behind him. 

“If this was so urgent, couldn’t you have booked a bloody appointment?” 

The man chuckled, though there was no humour in his tone. He rubbed his wrist before he swung at Jacob’s cheek, whipping his head to the side.

His jaw was seized and pulled to lock eyes with the six foot tall interrogator. “I won’t stand for that; understand?” His voice was low and rumbled maliciously. Jacob glared at him defiantly, heart pounding in his ears. He responded by spitting blood in his face. The man recoiled violently, wiping the substance out of his eyes. Jacob exhaled amusedly through his nose. 

Once the man recovered, he chuckled again. “Cute.” He walked over to Jacob, bending down to his eye level as he rolled up his sleeves. “Let’s start with an easy one; what’s your name?”

“Ethan.” He was met with a punch to the gut. 

“I forgot to tell you; these first few questions? I know the answers to them. I know when you’re giving me bullshit.” He grasped his hair and harshly pulled. “Let’s try again; your name.”

He said nothing and was considering lying again, until the man gave another rough tug, threatening to yank his hair right out of his scalp. “Jacob.” He relented through gritted teeth, seething in frustration. His hair was released.

“Nice to interrogate you, Jacob.” The man took a step back and leaned on a table a few feet away. “I’m the Boss around here. See how easy things are when you cooperate?”

The assassin rolled his eyes. 

“Now, I was told that you were, as you put it, ‘spoken for’.”

Jacob raised an unimpressed brow as he tried to hide the hitch in his breath.

“Who is it? A woman? A man?” Jacob left his expression unchanged. “I don’t judge!” The ‘Boss’ raised his hands. “I bet I can guess their name: Henry, Evie… Y/N, perhaps?” Jacob raised his chin and clenched his jaw, an involuntary defensive move as he listed his closest friend, his sister, and his lover all at once. 

“You see,” the Boss sighed, pushing himself off the table. “Even if you don’t say anything, you’re just as good to us as bait. If you speak now, you could be saving everyone a headache. Just remember that.

“Now; why were you tailing that courier?”

----------

The session ended with a condescending backhand. “We’ll pick this up again later.”

Jacob smiled mockingly. “I’m looking forward to it.” 

Once he was finally alone, his defiant front dropped, and he allowed himself to feel the pain in his torso. He groaned as he shifted in his seat, his ribs aching from the inside. He knew he wouldn’t give them any information, no matter how hard they tried to extract it. He instinctively tried to hold his side, but to no avail. His tongue ran over the cut on his lip, busted open time and again. 

He doesn’t know how long it’s been; hours or days. But he’s tired, thirsty, and in pain. He can barely keep his eyes open, but his anxiety has kept him awake; an insomnia he could never quite shake. He was too tired to expend any of it physically; it was brewing inside him like a bad cup of tea. He couldn’t stop thinking about the threat of you, Evie, and even Henry. Even so, unless he could be sure his information would be able to counteract that, he kept it to himself.

His chin rested on his chest, and he was on the verge of passing out when the door opened again, causing him to jump and tense at the sudden loud noise. “Sorry I’m late; this is the only time I could slip in.” 

The Boss took in Jacob’s tired eyes. “Did I wake you? Such a shame.” He laughed at his own quip. 

“It’s fine; my schedule was open.” Jacob tried to bite back.

“Seeing as you weren’t doing so well answering our earlier questions, I decided to start on some different ones, this time.” 

Jacob furrowed his brows. “What makes you think that I’d tell you anything?” 

The Boss revealed items he was hiding behind his back. “Are you thirsty?” 

Jacob tried to smirk at the jug and glasses, though it wasn't as wide as before. “Kind of you to offer.”

The Boss poured out all the water into a few glasses. “You can have as much as you want; just tell me what I want to know; what have you learnt about our current… agenda? Any heists being planned that we need to know about?”

There’s a few moments of silence, before Jacob spoke, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “We’ve decided to go on holiday for a few weeks, actually.” 

The Boss huffed humorlessly. He grabbed a glass of water and brought it near to Jacob, before chucking it over his face. Trying not to react, Jacob only flinched. The liquid made the cuts on his face twinge. “That’s for lying.” Discarded on the table sat a pair of brass knuckles, spiked and gnarly. He picked them up, sliding them over his fingers before clenching a fist to test his comfort. 

“I’m going to ask you this one more time…”

----------

“You’re going to be here for a long time, Frye. Get comfortable.”

Not likely.

The last words spoken to him felt like hours ago. He was drifting in and out of consciousness, his body forcing him to sleep by shutting down. Slumped forwards in his chair, his arms were the only thing holding him upright. His shoulders were numb. He tested his bonds again, as if they would magically loosen after all this time. Fingers stretching, he tried to get blood black in his hands. He rotated his wrists, wincing as the rope pinched his raw skin. His leg began to jump of its own accord once he was faced with his own hopelessness again. 

How long would they keep him alive for? How long until help comes? They must have realised that he was missing by now, right? 

He heaved unsteady breaths out of his lungs; keeping his composure was becoming increasingly difficult, and he was looking at the increased likelihood of coming face to face with his own mortality a lot sooner than he would have liked. 

The only reason why he hadn’t starved was because of someone who came to feed and water him once a day, though he can barely stomach solids. “It will get easier if you tell them the truth.” They kept saying the same things over and over again. 

“Stop it.” Jacob didn’t want to hear any more; his mind was conflicted -- whose side were they on?

“Just tell them what they want to hear; it will make it so much better for you.” 

Jacob clenched his jaw and remained silent. 

“Otherwise, they’ll keep beating you.” They prodded Jacob’s ribs, and he squeezed his eyes shut in pain, refusing to make a sound. They took off his coat a while ago, exposing his body for more beatings. “Food for thought,” they said as they left him in silence once again.

The only other time he would get contact with another human being is when they’d take him out of the room for a bathroom break; they’d undo the rope before rebinding his hands in front of him immediately, dragging him to the bathroom before he’s forced back into the same chair again, waiting for the cycle to repeat.

The familiar tell of nausea was growing, and his stomach had stopped holding down the food he’d been given. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold on. 

----------

He was awoken by a series of noises that blended into each other, incomprehensible from the next. 

The door opened, and the Boss walked down the stairs, a serious expression on his face. “You have visitors, Jacob.” A fist came into contact with his gut, and for the first time his pain was vocalised. Though still stifled, the noise was noticeable. “It’s a shame, really. We were getting somewhere with you. Hopefully those allies of yours won’t be as stubborn.” 

He grabbed a cloth and balled it up, being met with almost no resistance as it was pressed into Jacob’s mouth. “Not a sound.” He crossed the room at pace, unsheathing a knife as he closed and locked the door behind him. 

The aftershocks of the assault on his gut still had him wincing, but as he heard gunshots and cries above him, he began to panic.

People he cared about could die, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it. 

With every bang that erupted above him, his heart rate increased. He tried to weakly pull at the ropes again, and made a hopeless noise through the fabric in his mouth as he got nowhere. He was frustrated, anxious, and scared. The future was completely out of his control. 

His body wouldn’t listen to his mind; it was slumped in the chair, all but exhausted. He couldn’t breathe. Fear clouded his mind, the adrenaline pushing him to his limits. It wasn’t until he tasted the salt in the gag that he realised that a few tears had escaped. He closed his eyes.

This wasn’t him. He needed to stay calm.

I’m not usually the praying type, but if anyone at all is up there, keep them safe…

Please…

“Please…” It sounded like a groan but he said it; he was never one to beg, but he’d do anything to know what the hell was going on up there.

Everything stopped when he heard it.

“Jacob?” 

He barely moved, his mind clouded, but his heart swelled in relief at the voice -- a relieved noise that became stifled in his throat. But then, he remembered what was said to him.

He was bait.

He flinched as the door was kicked down, fists weakly clenching behind him. Footsteps came down the stairs. 

 He heard someone kneel in front of him. “Jacob? Hey, it’s me.” His face was taken into gentle hands, and the fabric was taken out of his mouth. “Jesus… Can you open your eyes, Jacob?” Slowly, he did, eyes heavy with exhaustion. You were in front of him, visibly relieved at his responsiveness.

“No… Please, leave.” He tried to pull his face out of your hands.

“They’re dead, Jacob. We’re safe; you’re safe now.” 

The ropes around his wrists broke, and he gasped in pain as he fell forward into you, hands slowly coming up to grasp your arms. Evie had moved to Jacob’s ankles, quickly cutting his bonds. “We were given false intel from the beginning; it was always going to be a trap.”

You pulled back. “Can you walk?” 

Jacob nodded, the action dizzying him. You pulled his arm over your shoulders and pulled him to his feet, hissing in pain at the movement in his torso. You stood him up, but he began to crumple almost immediately. Evie half caught him, copying your movements. 

Slowly but surely, he was brought out into the open. It was overcast and miserable outside (not the greeting he was expecting). His vision swam with flecks of green. How you managed to bring Rooks out here, he didn’t know. 

Gang members helped him into a carriage that was parked out in front, and you followed, helping him onto the seat. You lowered him down so he was lying on his back, his head in your lap. “How did you find me?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s a long story.” You pushed his hair out of his eyes, observing his wounds in worry. “I’m so sorry we didn’t come sooner.”

Jacob smiled softly and grasped your hand, rocking with the gentle movement of the carriage. “You came; that’s what matters.”

The soothing motion of your thumb over the back of his hand finally convinced his brain to shut down, engulfing him in the comfort of sleep.

----------

He was back in the cellar. Except this time, he wasn’t alone. There was someone across from him, he couldn’t tell who it was, but they were familiar. And they were screaming. There was no way for him to get them to stop, even as he began to beg, to plead, to volunteer information if they would just stop hurting them…

He startled himself awake, gasping. His eyes were open and alert, with his skin covered in a sheet of sweat. 

He wasn’t in a cellar; he was in a bed. 

Deep breaths, just take deep breaths. Everything is fine...

He tried to sit up, but before he moved an inch a pained gasp left his lips. He clutched at his torso, as if holding it would stop the pain. Once it began to subside, he lifted the sheet off of his body. He was shirtless, and he was wearing clean breeches. He raised an eyebrow, but that was low on his list of priorities. Instead, he saw green, blue, and purple bruises saturating his skin. Bandages were wrapped tightly around his chest, no doubt securing a few broken ribs. He threw his legs over the side of the pain, pausing at the fresh wave of pain washing over his body. His eyes were closed as the door opened somewhere, causing him to jump slightly. “Jacob, you’re awake!” 

He looked up and smiled when he saw you come towards him. “How long was I asleep?” 

“Over a day. Um, did you call for me, just now?” You heard him scream for you, most likely in his sleep.

“No, why?” He furrowed his brows as he watched your expression.

You decided to not pry, and instead let him tell you of his own accord, whenever that may be. “No reason; I must have been hearing things. Listen, you need to rest for a bit longer. You’ve taken a lot of damage.”

“Nonsense; I’m fine now.” He went to stand up, but sat back down as his world began to spin. “I’m not staying here… wherever we are.”

“We’re in Lambeth Asylum. We took you straight to Florence Nightingale.”

“Where’s Evie?”

“I finally got her to rest; she hasn’t been able to sleep at all since…”

“Sounds like her.”

“What happened, Jacob? When you didn’t come back that night, I thought you went to the pub or something, but you still weren’t back by the next day. How did you end up outside London?”

“Haven’t the foggiest. One moment, I was following a man in a bowler hat, and the next I was ambushed by about fifty Templars.” Your lips quirked at the exaggeration. 

“I was so worried, Jacob. They almost killed you.”

“It’s going to take a lot more than fisticuffs to take me out.” 

You took his face in your hands. “While we’re here, you need a bath.”

“And here I thought you were going to be romantic.”

“Aha. Cute.”

The word echoed in Jacob’s mind as you prepared the hot water. Absently, his hand ran over his bandages, replaying the memories in his mind. 

“Jacob!” 

“Huh?” He didn’t realise he was staring off into space until you looked at him with concern. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Yes, fine.” 

You went over to him and helped him up, supporting him over to the tub. “Get in.” 

“If you wanted to--”

“Don’t finish that sentence; we’ve seen each other naked enough times.” 

He chuckled, undressed and slowly sat in the warm water, with help from you. “What about the bandages?”

“I’ll replace them afterwards; they’re there to keep your ribs in place.”

As Jacob washed his lower half, albeit slowly, you got a clean rag and dipped it in the water before turning his face towards you. You wiped the grime away from the open wounds on his forehead and lip. “Ow.” He didn’t flinch, but he still voiced his pain in a deadpanned tone. 

“Sincerest apologies,” you teased, for a moment it was silent, with Jacob watching you intently, before he nudged your hand away, leaning in to kiss you. It was a kiss he never thought he’d give you so soon; the ‘I-thought-I’d-never-see-you-again’ kiss. You broke apart, knowing exactly what he was feeling. “It’s alright now,” you reassured, swapping the rag for hair oils. He returned the smile you gave him, allowing himself to breathe.

You poured water over his head as you tilted it back, shielding his face from the liquid. Then, you massaged his scalp, watching as he slowly became more relaxed. 

“What do I have to do to get this more often?” he murmured softly.

“Just ask,” you laughed. 

“What do I have to do... to do this for you?” You washed out the suds in his hair, sweeping it back. 

“Again, ask -- wait until you’ve healed though.”

“If I must.” 

----------

On the outside, Jacob was healing fine. 

On the inside, scarring was plentiful. 

He was back on the train after a few weeks, glad to be somewhere he could call home. Though his mind always seemed to be somewhere else. 

Walking around the carriages, he was mostly doing desk work; Evie’s way to keep him off the streets until his body was healed. 

Night terrors frequently plagued him. He’d bring you into his arms at the end of the day, but as he fell further into his subconscious, he began to heave out frightened breaths. You would sometimes wake up when it was at its height, but other times his cries for help, his begs and pleads and calls of your name as he startles, would sit you up straight. You’d wake him up as gently as you could, waiting patiently for him to realise where he was and who you were, the fright slowly dissipating. 

“It’s okay, it’s alright.” You’d hold him as tightly as he held you, as if you’d never hold each other again. “You’re safe; I’m safe. We’re okay.” These were the only times Jacob revealed just how hard the recent event had hit him, preferring to lock it away and pretending it wasn’t there instead of facing it for what it is.

Slowly, he’d recover.

Slowly, he’d heal.

Slowly, everything will return to normal.

[ahs-requests]

Libertine (Michael Langdon x fem reader)

Summary: Michael has taken an obsessive liking to you since he’s entered the Outpost. You’re the only girl he can see himself bringing back to the Sanctuary and helping him rebuild the world, but you’re a bit more defiant than he expected.

Warnings: DUB/CON, dirty talk, daddy kink, rough sex, choking, humiliation, spitting.

WC: 2.4k

A/N: just a lil one shot to switch things up - this is more of my ‘tortured artist’ work lmao i dont think its as sexy as the other things ive posted since is has a pretty non-conish overtone but i thought id try something new.

~~~~

Mallory leans over the keyboard in the library, performing each request you suggest to her and revelling in every moment. The two of you reserve classical music for singularly cruel days. Between Venable’s ceaseless perusal and Langdon’s sudden persistence with you, you’ve grown ill. Mallory begins hitting the keys to play your favourite classical song, an upbeat hopeful tune that reminds you of early childhood. You stop her. “Moonlight Sonata,” you tell her, “I’m feeling… dark.”

Mallory eyes you up and down, staring at your gray uniform as you recline onto the grand piano. You can detect her empathetic expression, the way her eyes fall and lips curve into a frown. She knows the only way to aid your vicious mood drop is playing your favourite songs. So, without question, she begins playing the somber, ominous keys.

You lean your head against the piano, hearing each key tick to create a beautiful song. You’re startled by the clicking of dress shoes along the opulent, polished floors. “Y/n,” the calm voice addresses, “Mallory.” The two of you stop enjoying the music and stare at Langdon. He’s dressed head to toe in elegant, formfitting black clothes, his hands behind his back. “Please, don’t let me interrupt. It sounded beautiful.”

You and Mallory exchange a glance. You should’ve foreseen this; Langdon hasn’t been able to leave you alone these past few days. He perpetually sits back to watch you clean, engages you in eerie, bone chilling conversations, and even started the habit of watching you sleep. Mallory apprehensively starts playing the song again, timidly botching a few keys. “I’ll take care of him,” you sigh.

You propel yourself off of the piano and stride towards Langdon. He doesn’t say a word to you, he just stares with careless bedroom eyes. “Any particular reason you were in my room last night?” you keep your voice low.

He passively shrugs. “I like to watch you sleep. Your innocence is… arousing,” he admits with a facetious grin.

You clear your throat, disguising your anger. You don’t want Mallory to find out about Langdon’s abnormal obsession with you, she hates him enough as is. “Innocence?” you whisper. “You don’t even fucking know who I am.”

“Au contraire,” he responds, leaning his shoulder against the wall. You obstinately cross your arms over your chest as he speaks. “I’ve pried through your memories, felt the emotions you bury deep down inside of you, and hear the thoughts you so desperately keep hidden in your subconscious. Darling, I know you better than you know yourself.”

“Bullshit,” you spit, the words passing your lips with pent up aggression. “You don’t know a thing.”

“I know everything,” he snaps, slicing your attitude with his bellicose tone. “I know that you’re wickedly turned on right now. You can’t admit to yourself that being degraded by me is one of your deepest, darkest fantasies because it’ll make you feel like a miserable little harlot.” You’re taken aback by the brutality to his delivery. “I’ve seen you in my mind,” he whispers, “heaving chest and raisoned fingers, touching yourself to the thought of me choking the life out of those glossy, perplexed eyes.”

You feel tears welling, burning in your eyes from humiliation. Although nobody can hear the two of you, those thoughts were private. They were yours. Langdon simulates a reality in which he owns you completely, like you’re his fictious little plaything. You feel your blood boiling; you’re sick of it, you’re sick of him. “Fuck you,” you say through gritted teeth.

“You will in due time,” he mocks.

You hike up your hand, preparing to smack him flush across the face and wipe the pompous smirk right from his lips, but he grabs a hold of your wrist. “Just leave me the fuck alone,” your voice shakes.

He squeezes your wrist tighter. “Mouthy girl. You know I could never stand for that mistreatment in my new world.”

You struggle to escape his rigid grip, but fail at your short attempts. “I’ll never be a part of your new world,” you growl, weakly spitting in his face.

He shuts his eyes when you spit on him, then calmly opens them. Slowly using his free hand to wipe away the white spit that slipped down his cheek. His composure is unnerving, almost like he’s about to twitch a finger and snap your neck in a matter of seconds. Even if he is pondering over that thought, your ego is much too large now to surrender an apology. “Mallory,” he calls, not breaking eye contact with you. His head cocks to the side. “Leave us. Now.”

Mallory stops playing and rises from her seat. “What are you going to do to her?” she asks from across the room.

Langdon finally turns his head over to Mallory, jaw clenched in irritation. “Go or I’ll make sure Venable has your head on a fucking stick by sunrise,” he seethes. His nostrils flare and his eyes narrow on her. If looks could kill…

You don’t look in her direction, you can’t take your eyes off of Langdon. He’s impossible to deal with, his conviction is exasperating and his tenacity is tedious, but he is the most gorgeous person you’ve ever had the pleasure to lay your eyes on.

Mallory’s footsteps quickly pace out of the room. Your heart drops, partly from having your friend leave you alone with Langdon, but mostly because the classical music soothed you in such a dreadful circumstance. “I can provide classical music,” he responds to your thoughts. Langdon flicks his finger towards the radio, and you jump in your spot as Beethoven’s seventh symphony commences.

You feel your body trembling in fear. Langdon always seemed like an overly ambitious, domineering asshole, but he has never shown off his much-gossiped supernatural ability. “What kind of monster are you?” your voice wavers in fear.

He raises a hand and you jump again, but brings the feeble fist to your face and grazes your cheeks softly with the backs of his fingers, the metal of his rings are cool against your skin. You blink out a fleeting tear and he wipes it away, still gripping your wrist hard enough to cut blood flow. “Don’t worry,” he whispers, “I’d never hurt you.”

He leans down and gives your lips a small kiss, guiding your chin closer to him to deepen his kisses. You take a moment to kiss him back, but once you do, he accepts this as admission to devour you whole. He walks you backwards until your back is pressed against the piano. Then lifts up your dress, his greedy fingers find your clit and your eyes grow hazy, still trying to grasp the situation. He pulls down your panties and spits on your cunt.

He rubs the spit into your core and you let out a light whimper. Maybe it’s the fear adopting your body, but you relax as he continues undressing you. Langdon throws the pieces to your uniform aside until you’re completely naked. You’re dazed by him, almost like he’s drugged you, and now all of his advances seem palatable.

Langdon towers over you, unbuckling his belt and pulling down his pants. You can already see how hard he is from the outline of his cock in his briefs. He spins you around and shoves you into the piano, your hips sock the hard wood and he pushes you down, lifting your ass for his consumption. He pries open your legs and you feel his dick press against you. Teasing by running up and down your folds. “You made this so easy for me, my love,” he croons. “Your pretty cunt is just begging for my cock now.”

He stretches you out, stuffing the fat head of his cock into you. You freeze as he does this, clawing at the edges of the grand piano you’re pressed against. He pushes himself deeper inside you and moans, your cunt writhes in pain. You feel your body tauten, embracing itself for another plunge. He pushes himself so deep that it feels like he rearranges your organs, you free a childish cry from your lips, a tear slips from your eye through a blink. “You may bleed, darling, but I can assure you,” he whispers and leans down, his full lips drag against the shell of your ear, “it will be electric.”

You squirm under him, now questioning whether or not you’re in over your head. Whether you are or you aren’t, Langdon is still going to use you like his personal, conceptive project. He hammers into you, growling and praising you for how tight you are. Occasionally you emancipate a moan, but it’s difficult to work past the pain. “Think of this as your baptism into the sanctuary,” he breathes, still pounding himself into your palpitating cunt. He still leans over you, speaking into your ear and creating friction between the two of your naked bodies. “We’re dirtying you up for the hellish dumpster fire of a world that we’re going to create… together.” You shudder at the thought.

The sound of his skin slapping against yours and the loud classical music echoes throughout the abandoned halls. You wish Venable would walk in and interrupt the two of you, alleviate you from the soreness already overtaking your tender cunt, but even she is too recreant to stand up to Langdon. You just have to lay down and accept it.

You feel your body resisting him, but he ignores the obvious signs. Only burrowing himself into you harder when your tight hole tries to reject him. He grabs onto your torso, pushing you against him and feeling his warm skin against your back. It almost reminds you of how you’d feel with a husband, a boyfriend, or simply a lover, but you question if Langdon could even claim that title.

His hands, once gently caressing you, now holds both of your wrists behind your back. Now you surely suspect both of your wrists to develop bruises. “It’ll get easier each day, kitten,” he assures you. His cock pounds your cervix as he speaks, you can’t bring yourself to respond. He uses a free hand to wipe away your tears.

He pulls himself out of you and both of you sigh, presumably for different reasons. “Mr. Langdon,” you say breathlessly, “this is a little excessive.” He laughs bitterly and begins positioning himself for re-entry. “Please,” you cry, not daring to change your position, “I don’t know how much more I can take.” Your breath fogs up the burnished wood.

“Well then, shouldn’t we figure that out?” his voice is as sweet as honey before he pummels himself into you again. You yelp from the unexpected intrusion. Your nails dig into your skin as he still holds a tight grip on your wrists with one of his large hands.

He pulls back your wrists so you stand up against him, your back pressed to his sturdy chest. His unoccupied hand sluggishly rubs your clit in circles and he kisses your neck, biting down on your skin and sucking until leaving a pale purple mark. You throw your head back, leaning it against his shoulder blade and he continues stroking you. His cock so deep inside of you that every movement feels lethal. You wiggle around, trying to find a position more suitable, less painful, but come up empty.

He breathes out a vacillating sigh. “You like how daddy stretches your tight little cunt?” he asks. He pushes himself balls deep and you cry, dropping your head into the crook of his neck. “Your pretty pussy swallows daddy up so well… mmm, you’re such a fucking mess for me right now.”

“You’re too big,” you whine into his burning hot skin.

He breathes out a sinister laugh, as if insulting your inability to endure his rough jabs. His hand careens up your body, glazing over your hard nipples and wrapping around your neck, squeezing tighter with each thrust.

“This is what you wanted, right?” he asks. He squeezes harder, arresting your windpipe and cutting your breath. “To honour me with watching the life drain from your eyes as I fuck your tight hole?” Langdon stiffens his grip on both your wrists and your throat. More tears pour out of your eyes as he slams himself into you. “Pretty, pretty baby, dying by my very hand,” he jeers.

He spits down on your face, that must be turning red from the lack of air supply. Your lips part to beg him to stop, beg him for your life, but all that comes out is a short squeak that’s drowned out by the music. He spits on you again; it runs down your cheek and into your parted lips. He clutches tighter and tighter until your vision becomes foggy, then he lets go.

You hunch forward to collect your breath, still feeling the imprint of where his fingers restrained your throat. You try to wiggle your hands free to touch your neck, but he doesn’t allow you to move. Langdon throws his arm over your chest and presses you against him again, kissing your neck sloppily. You can’t keep up with his undulate sensuality… but of course, none of this was sensual.

His thrusts slow down but he pounds into you harder than before. Each of his breaths turn rugged as he groans against your skin marked in goosebumps. He thrusts one, two, three more times until you feel him release inside of you. Each thrust feels like it shatters your bones. He hauls himself out of you and you drop against the piano again. You feel his seed leaking out of your stretched hole as he finally releases your bound wrists.

He picks you up by grabbing your shoulders and spinning you around, although you’re essentially ragdolling at this point. He runs his tongue up your cheek until your eye, licking up the tears that have fallen while being fucked senseless. Then he kisses you, gently, almost lovingly. “You’re so pretty,” he whispers, “we’re going to rule this fucking world, baby.”

[snarkwriteswrasslin]

Can you do a daddy kink headcanon for Marko Stunt?

While I do see Marko as having a daddy kink... I don’t know that your idea of him having one and mine are gonna line up but...I will happily write out the way I see it working!! Also, thank you for sending me this! It was an actual blast to sit down and think out! Sorry in advance if what you get is not what you were expecting,btw. I hope you enjoy it though!.

Warnings:

This might get suggestive. Maybe borderline sexual in the tame kind of way. So if there’s any kids reading this, take a hike for now. Beyond that, teeth rotting sweet I guess? Oh and a trigger warning for my rambling, because it’s probably frustrating af, lmao.

Tagging:

My tag list is all out of whack rn. Sorry guys! I’m trying to fix it. If you recently changed urls, let me know, especially if you wanna be tagged, because that’s pretty much what the issue was, a lot of the names I had weren’t working anymore last time I tried to post. Anyway... If you wanna be tagged in my writing, pls go add yourself to the linked doc below or dm/send me an ask to do it. And also, if you’re already on it, but you either changed urls and/or haven’t been getting tagged, pls lemme know. It might be an issue on my end, idk.

Other Stuff:

[ about my writing | masterlist | tag list doc ]

You never meant to say it, let alone blab to a friend backstage that Marko Stunt was quote unquote “Daddy as fuck.” But you did. And you thought you were in a private enough area when it was said that he’d never have a clue you said it, because honestly, you were too afraid to actually... Have the audacity to tell him how you felt.

-- This was not the case. Not only did someone hear it, but that someone was Marko. After he leaned against the wall for a good ten minutes, letting the rush go straight to his head and trying to calm himself down, he started to really think on the magnitude of what he now knew to be true. And how to best use it to get you all to himself because he’d been into you for months. By the time he was in catering, grinning like an idiot, he’d started thinking of lyrics to a song just for you and he’d come up with the perfect plan to make you crack.. To at least get you two interacting more, in any case. See, Marko isn’t exactly the bold kind of guy. He has to know what he wants is a sure thing before that boldness surfaces. And now that he did, well...

It started subtly.. Innocently, even. Subtle brushes against you in hallways and on elevators. Wandering up to you and drawing you into conversations just to make you laugh -and flirt with you, which you were... kind of oblivious too because you’re just that oblivious and he can be that smooth/awkward, depending on how you choose to see it sometimes. Accidentally crashing into your back and pressing himself against you just slightly, chuckling and then daring to whisper against the shell of your ear either an apology, or that you two had to stop meeting like this. Every single encounter left you a dripping confused mess.

-- That daddy sweater he’s got? It started to make so many more appearances. Especially if he were going somewhere and he knew you’d be there. At first, you thought nothing of it. But then a friend pointed out that he’d stopped wearing it until recently. And yeah, the paranoid parts of you did panic just a bit that maybe he’d have heard you the day you spilled your deepest desire to your best friend while hanging out in back. But you quickly managed to reassure yourself that he couldn’t have heard you, because he wasn’t even around at the time....

-- Then he started seeking you out whenever he knew Sammy was filming vlogs. Flirting -and doing some heavy teasing, on camera. Always so touchy. Always quick to get real heated whenever someone tried to push up on you or even take the conversation over a little bit when he was already there and talking to you. And on one particular occasion, he came off exactly like a protective boyfriend when this guy in the hotel lobby wouldn’t leave you the fuck alone and it scared you. Just the way he pulled your back to his chest and put his arms around you... Whispering and laughing against your ear when he muttered with a calm smirk at the other guy, “There you are, baby girl. Thought I lost you. You ready to check into our room?”

-- That was a loooooong night. Filled with many varying racy scenarios flitting about in your mind. Knowing he had the bed across the room did NOTHING to help. If anything, it made things so much worse. So much more intense. Sharing a room with him was both your dream scenario and in this case, sheer torture... Because all the little touching and the flirting and the innuendo? It was amplified by at least ten on this weekend.

The final straw came when he accidentally burst into the bathroom just as you were stripping down for a long hot soak in the huge tub. Both of you froze. You attempted to at least halfway cover yourself, but he crossed the room in a split second, towering over you... It hit you then, every single time you two had an encounter, Marko honestly seemed to be making himself tower over you.

-- His hand raised slowly, lowering your hands from the way they covered your body as best as you could manage. When you locked eyes, there was this almost wild gleam there. You happened to glance down and notice that he was wearing the damn sweater again and that... really did not help the intensity of the situation. You were kind of melting into him, eyes fixed on that shirt, cheeks on fire. “Daddy, huh?” you managed to get the words out.. He chuckled. His hands dropped and long,thin fingers curled beneath your chin to make you look up. “Depends on who you ask, angel.. Am I?” his tongue slipped slowly over his lips and you whimpered, shivering at the gentle way he was touching you and how it was a nice juxtaposition to the firmness in his tone when he asked the question he’d just asked quietly. He repeated himself.. A little firmer. That gleam in his eye was brighter, a lot brighter. He was standing closer now, your back was against the edge of the vanity sink in the bathroom. “Am I?”

-- You couldn’t take anymore. Weeks of teasing and hinting, of his innuendo, they were all leading up to this. When you tried to open your mouth, nothing came out... I mean, aside from the quiet whimper that only grew when his hand lowered, gripping your back and rocking your body right into his. He got this little smirk as he kept inching his mouth closer to yours. “Well? I asked a question, sweetheart... I’m kind of waiting on an answer.”

-- Finally, your daze cleared and you got yourself together enough that you just totally snapped, arms wrapping around his neck, legs wrapping around his waist as you used the grip you had on the back of his neck to pull your mouth into his completely. His tongue swept out, right between your lips. You managed to finally mumble the answer, “If you want to be, yeah. You’re totally daddy. My daddy.”

-- Whew, fuck... the low and throaty growl that came, spilling between your mouths when you said it. He rocked into you harder, rubbing you against him as he did so. “Say it again.” he demanded, a breathy pant against your neck as he sat you on the edge of the vanity....

[offtopicoverload]

Saturday Night

Aurora only wanted to drink and waste her night, to ignore all the stress of Edenbrook for once and give herself a slight hangover to deal with Sunday morning. Until Casey Valentine showed up, her words slightly slurred as she dragged Aurora towards the dance floor.

Just a little ficlet separate from Disney Princess on request of @aleiramacaii, hope I did alright on it. Also, idk how to dance, I just made up whatever lmao

(And sorry that it's been a week since I posted anything, I'm usually more active, but this week has just been pretty stressful and busy and I haven't been confident in writing so I just haven't. I won't vent on this fic, no worries, but if I don't post as often as usual for a bit, there's your explanation lol. And if anyone has any questions about specific fics or requests, my inbox is always open, for literally anything <3)

T Rating (nothing too bad, just some slight nasty lmao)

Aurora Emery x f!MC (Casey Valentine)

~2.8k (pretty short compared to other ficlets, but oh well)

Sharp, staccatoed beats fill the space around Aurora as her nails echo on the wooden bar, a steady pattern to pass the time as she drinks the night away. It’s another evening spent at Donahue’s, surrounded by colleagues she doesn’t like - can barely even stand, in all honesty - as they dance and shout and get drunk before a day off or after a particularly stressful shift, before another difficult day or after the rare occurrence of a slow week, Aurora doesn’t care.

She doesn’t care why everyone’s spending their Saturday throwing back shots and letting sweat soak their clothes as they gyrate to mediocre music, and she doesn’t even care why she’s sitting alone, slowly draining cocktails at this point. She just wants to enjoy the numbness provoked by the bass thumping from speakers lining the dance floor, the constant hum of drunken, slurred conversation, and the warm buzz of alcohol slowly filling her veins like thick honey as she taps away at the bar. She sips her drink idly, never once stopping the rhythm of her nails as her foot taps along to the music still blasting.

“Hey,” a body thumps against the bar beside her, startling her from her distant thoughts, her peaceful reverie, and earning her mildly surprised gaze.

And instantly she’s fighting to suppress a scoff, rolling her eyes as she turns her gaze ahead of her again, to the wall filled with bottles before her, “What do you want, Valentine?”

“I dunno,” Casey shrugs, shifting closer to Aurora as she does, “You just looked kinda lonely,” her speech is slower than usual, like her brain’s moving behind it’s usual rate as the words leave her mouth, her posture more relaxed than Aurora’s ever seen it.

Aurora’s mouth tightens into a thin, sharp line at the casual insult to her typical demeanor, her default expression, “Well, I’m not,” she answers harshly. “I’m perfectly fine on my own,” she spits through gritted teeth, already irritated with whatever is occurring next to her.

“You sure? I make great company,” Casey’s tone slips into something particularly playful as she slides even closer along the bar, her hip nudging Aurora’s arm as her chin rests in her palm, watching Aurora without a drop of anything but tranquility.

“I’m sure,” Aurora barely manages through her clenched jaw, eyes nearly burning a hole in the wall before her as she focuses all her energy on one chip in the paint, one tiny flaw staring her in the face.

Casey slumps against the bar in faux defeat, with an exaggerated exhale. “Aw, please?” she pouts playfully, her eyes sparkling in the bar’s poor lighting as she flutters her eyelashes teasingly.

Aurora finally turns, meeting Casey’s wide, pleading eyes, “Why are you suddenly interested in being in my company?” Her tone is bland, monotone as she fights against her simultaneously growing curiosity and annoyance.

Casey’s shoulders rise in a shrug as she grabs a nearby barstool, pulling it closer and dropping onto it, “‘Cause you’re cute and I think you’re actually really warm and soft under all that ice,” Casey grins, poking Aurora in the ribs, her smile only growing as Aurora glares at her for the jab.

“I am not,” she counters furiously, meeting Casey’s easygoing grin with a scowl, her eyes narrowed as she silently challenges Casey to continue on this path.

And of course, she does, “Not what? Cute? ‘Cause I disagree, Ror,” she teases effortlessly, liquor oiling her tongue, allowing the words to fall without care as she drags a hand through her hair, that ridiculous smile still stuck in place.

But Aurora’s own expression isn’t budging either, her frown glued to her face, “I prefer my full name.”

“Too bad,” Casey shrugs again, “You’re Ror to me because it’s cute. Like you,” her eyes crinkle as her grin grows, a finger rising to tap Aurora on the nose playfully.

She jerks away from the touch, gripping the bar to keep herself on her stool as she flies backwards. “Casey, what do you want?” she questions with a suspicious gaze, eyes roving along the woman across from her, searching for an explanation for this odd behaviour.

Casey finally leans away, letting her weight fall to the bar, an elbow supporting her, “To talk,” she answers coolly, unbothered by the judgemental glimmer in Aurora’s eyes.

“About what?” the far less drunk of the two counters once more.

Casey shrugs, evidently a default in her alcohol-induced haze, “Whatever you want.”

“Okay, then,” Aurora nods, privately reveling in the way Casey perks up at her words. “Nothing. I want you to leave me alone,” Casey’s grin falls away as her shoulders sag in some form of hurt or despair.

Her smile’s been replaced by an upset frown as she watches Aurora carefully from beneath her lashes and through narrowed eyes. Only they suddenly widen, huge on her face with ecstasy overflowing from them, “This is such a good song!” She jumps to her feet, glancing around in excitement, eyes fixating on the mess of people dancing across the bar.

And, without another word, her fingers are wrapping around Aurora’s wrist, her palm warm on the skin beneath it as she begins pulling Aurora along to the dance floor, despite her many protests, “Hey! Valentine! Let me go!” She struggles against her, attempting to jerk her wrist from Casey’s grasp, but Casey holds firm.

She pulls Aurora through the crowd on the floor, until they’re surrounded by a shifting mass of bodies, Casey’s smile sparking as she turns to meet Aurora. She takes her other hand, tugging her closer and interlocking their fingers, swaying on her feet the whole while, tipsy and inexplicably happy.

But Aurora doesn’t move with her, standing frozen with a glare as Casey beams and bounces on her feet, thumbs brushing the back of Aurora’s hands to the beat of the song. Though Aurora doesn’t pull away, not wanting to shove through a crowd of wasted doctors in hopes that her spot at the bar is still available, which it likely didn’t survive long at this time of night.

Casey tugs her even closer, her hands falling from Aurora’s to rest on her hips, “Loosen up, Ror,” she hums, her mouth dropping close to Aurora’s ear, a low purr emanating from the back of her throat that sends a shiver through Aurora without remorse.

With a huff, Aurora crosses her arms over her chest, but she doesn’t pull away from Casey, doesn’t step out of her grasp, doesn’t jerk away from Casey’s hands on her. “I’m perfectly fine as I am,” she mutters under her breath.

“Sorry, what was that?” Casey’s arms wrap around her waist, pulling Aurora against her as she bows her head, her ear close to Aurora’s mouth now.

Aurora sighs, raising herself to her full height as she speaks into Casey’s ear, “I said that I am perfectly fine as I am right now. I’m not interested in dancing.”

Casey pulls back to meet her dark eyes, “Pretty please? I have nothing else to do,” she pouts once more, her head falling to Aurora’s shoulder as she holds her close, still gently swaying from side to side, shifting Aurora with her and watching her out of the corner of her eye.

Aurora can feel a blush creeping up her neck, heat rising in her cheeks as she exhales sharply. “Fine.” She nearly chokes on the word as she forces it from her throat, obliging Casey’s request by coiling her arms around her neck.

Casey squeezes her tight, nearly lifting her off her feet as she does, humming into Aurora’s neck. And Aurora’s blush only grows, a tiny smile lifting the corners of her lips as Casey buries her face in the crook of her neck. She coughs to regain her composure, features stiffening as Casey pulls back to meet her gaze with that absurd, overexcited grin, “Thank you,” she whispers, barely loud enough for Aurora to hear.

“Let’s just get this over with,” Aurora mutters, shaking her head exasperatedly as Casey beams at her. Her lips twist as she meets shining eyes, light glinting off vibrant irises, her pupils dilating slightly. “How do we, um…” Aurora bows her head, feeling her cheeks heating again, darkening with the blush, “Do this?” she finishes, fighting against a surge of embarrassment.

Casey mock gasps, “Aurora Emery,” her tone incredulous, “Do you not know how to dance?” she gapes teasingly at the woman that’s wrapped in her arms, albeit begrudgingly.

Aurora scowls up at her, lips twisted in anger, “No,” she fires coldly. “I can dance just fine,” she insists, head held high.

Casey laughs lightly, “It’s okay, Ror, just follow me,” she smiles sweetly, slowly chipping away at Aurora’s frown without her even realising it. Casey slowly starts moving her hips against Aurora’s, following the music pounding in their ears, slow and steady as the throbbing mass around them bobs along, moving to their own beat.

Aurora begins to follow, focusing on the movement against her and Casey’s hands on her hips, gently leading her. Her hands slip through Casey’s hair, palms landing on the back of her neck and thumbs absentmindedly brushing the skin beneath them, fingers knit together.

They carry on, moving together smoothly, sweat slowly beginning to coat their skin, glistening as they shift and sway and press against each other, isolated from the rest of the crowd. Casey’s head falls beside Aurora’s, their cheeks nearly touching as her breath shifts Aurora’s hair and tickles her ear, her hands softly caressing Aurora’s lower back.

A bubble slowly forms around them, immune to the chatter and buzz of Donahue’s, immune to the thrashing crowd around them as they jump and crash in a wave to the music, immune to the dizzying effect of the drinks that have filled their systems, once so strong, but now nothing compared to the overwhelming presence of one another. Aurora sucks in a deep breath at the climax of a song, glancing up carefully as she inhales again, just to find Casey already watching her carefully.

Their eyes collide, sparks flying between them in the awful, dim, yellow lighting, brighter than the few lights near the dance floor. Their bodies are pressed flush together in the heat of the bar, the temperature only rising between them. Aurora’s hands slide around to cup Casey’s cheeks, her lips parted as she meets her gaze, neither looking away as the song changes, everybody within the mass of people around them altering with it.

Everybody except for them, their eyes locked together, their gazes immovable as their movement slows. Aurora’s finger adjusts its position, tucking a stray lock of hair behind Casey’s ear delicately. As soon as her finger stills, Casey’s head dips down, her lips brushing against Aurora’s lightly, experimentally, as if to test the waters.

And Aurora meets her in the middle, colliding their lips and pulling Casey even closer with her hands on her face, Casey’s arms wrapping tight around her waist. They stand there, frozen, their bodies fitting together like pieces of a puzzle, stranded on their own island, even as they’re surrounded by dozens of people.

After a mystifying, hypnotic, captivating moment, they finally split apart for air, drawing in heaving breaths. Casey’s forehead falls against Aurora’s, a tiny gesture that sends Aurora’s heart into overdrive, “You wanna, um, go somewhere else?” she whispers against Aurora’s lips, her breath hot where it brushes her skin.

Aurora swallows, chest rising and shoulders shaking with each trembling breath as she works to steady her quivering voice. “My aunt’s home,” she eventually croaks.

“My roommates are nosey,” Casey whispers again, every exhale sending a shiver down Aurora’s spine, chilling regardless of the warmth of the body surrounding her.

“Then, uh, where…?” Aurora croaks again, her voice still raw, recovering from when it was stolen from her moments ago, ripped from her throat as Casey’s mouth found hers.

Casey’s lips twist in thought, her brows furrowing as she contemplates for what feels like an eternity, her fingertips distractedly tapping along Aurora’s body. Sharp, staccatoed beats fill the space around Aurora as her nails echo through Aurora’s nerves, a steady pattern to pass the time as they sway, slow and constant. “Bathroom?” Casey finally proposes.

Aurora visibly recoils from the suggestion, “Oh God, no, that’s disgusting,” her features scrunching in revolt, nose crunched as she shakes her head adamantly.

“Bathroom or nothing, Ror,” Casey hums, and it’s that low, throaty tone that first sent shockwaves pulsing through Aurora’s body, that first coerced her into dancing, that was the tap on the first domino that toppled every single one, each collapse leading them to this point, locked together in the middle of the dive bar.

Aurora sighs, her hands retreating from Casey’s face reluctantly. “Fine,” she frowns, lacing her fingers in Casey’s, immediately getting pulled through the crowd for the second time tonight, the hand in hers warm as she shoves through the crowd.

She leads Aurora through the back of the bar, into the small hallway that holds the bathrooms, into the women’s restroom, and to the farthest stall, hidden from the rest of the busy restroom. She pushes it open with her shoulder, turning around to pull Aurora close again and scanning for any prying eyes, her hands landing on Aurora’s waist when she doesn’t find any.

Aurora falls into her, connecting their lips as she fumbles with the door, nudging it closed and locking it with one hand behind her back. As soon as her hand retreats, flying up to cup the side of Casey’s face, she’s pushed against the wall, Casey never once separating their lips as Aurora quietly groans into her mouth.

Her hands slip into Casey’s hair, locks filling the gaps between her fingers as Casey pins her against the wall, hands skating along her sides, slipping beneath the hem of her shirt to explore her stomach. Her thumbs graze Aurora’s abdomen, the muscles beneath them twitching as her fingers rise along her ribs.

Their tongues clash, swirling together, and Aurora can taste the alcohol in Casey’s breath as she explores her mouth, can feel the lack of inhibitions in her touch as her fingers skim along her body, can hear the eagerness to push forward as Casey’s vocal cords produce a soft, barely held back moan. Their hands adventure along their bodies - backs, hips, waists, torsos, necks, faces - anywhere they can reach.

Casey’s lips stray from Aurora’s, darting down to her neck to suck at her pulse point, teeth grazing Aurora’s skin. Her head falls back, allowing Casey even more room to nip and kiss her, to nearly bruise her skin and soothe anything that forces a hiss from Aurora’s throat with her tongue. It’s a steady, constant rhythm as her mouth and hands move along Aurora’s skin.

“Case! Are you in here?” Sienna’s voice echoes through the bathroom, a sudden divide forcing Aurora and Casey apart, only heavy breathing and wide, surprised eyes filling the space between them.

Casey clears her throat, working to steady her voice and her breathing, “Yeah, what’s up, Si?” she calls, eyes still trained on Aurora’s dark irises.

“We’re heading home soon, so hurry up!” Sienna shouts back from across the large, tiled bathroom, echoes pinging from every surface.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll be right out,” Casey nods, even if Sienna can’t see it, her features turning downcast as seconds tick past. The door finally slams shut, and the pair still standing in the stall let out a collective sigh of relief, Aurora relaxing beneath Casey’s hands.

Until Casey pulls away, her body separating from Aurora’s and a chill filling the space she had just occupied, Aurora stiffening as the cold air makes contact with her skin. But before she leaves, Casey pecks Aurora on the cheek, “See you later, Ror,” she whispers against her cheek, the words sending goosebumps breaking along Aurora’s skin as her dark eyes stare into Casey’s, a million questions flitting within them. A million questions that neither know the answer to, and a million questions that they may never find a solution for.

Then Casey steps back with an uneasy, nearly trembling smile, unlocks the door, and yanks it open, striding out of the bathroom and leaving Aurora standing alone in a public restroom stall. Standing alone with flushed cheeks, disheveled hair, and crumpled clothes, her shoulders shaking with each uneven breath as she works to stabilize herself.

She pushes off the wall, combing her fingers through her hair to sort it out, brushing her clothes to remove the wrinkles Casey’s hands knotted into them. Her hands fall to her sides, eyes dropping to the floor beneath her, staring blankly as confusion, frustration, and excitement whirl like a storm in her foggy, tipsy mind. Sharp, staccatoed beats fill the space around Aurora as her nails echo in the quiet of the stall, a steady pattern beating on her thigh to pass the time as she considers everything, each precious detail of her Saturday night.

Her Saturday night that hasn’t gone at all as she expected it to, not one bit.

[jawritter]

Promised

Chapter 7

**Series Warnings!! ** ABO dynamics! Smut, unprotected smut, knotting, claiming, mating, heat, rut, language, overly protective Jensen, age gap! 19-year-old reader, 41-year-old Jensen, virgin reader, loss of virginity, sort of an arranged marriage, hint at possible mob type settings.

Story Description:

In a world where your presentation can be a blessing or a curse, a newly presented Omega will come face to face with the harsh reality of Alphas, Omegas, and pack alliances that are expected to be upheld with the union of your two families…

A/N: Pt.7!!! Please don’t copy my stuff! Feedback is welcomed! If you want to be added to the series tag list, or just my tag list in general let me know! Cross-posted on Wattpad! Hope you enjoy it!! This is my first ABO series so be nice lmao!

Missed it so far? Catch up!!

************ Promised Series Masterlist **********

It took you about three weeks to get fully settled into your new environment, and of course, Jensen was more patient than you would have ever dreamed an Alpha would be. Giving you plenty of space. Letting you gain some independence, but never really getting out of arm's length. Which was comforting more than you ever wanted to admit to yourself? 

He’d been teaching you how to do things on your own. Like buy groceries, pick up the dry cleaning, doing things around the house that a normal housewife would do. He said he could hire people to come in and do things like that so you didn’t have to, but if you were being completely honest with him and yourself you like the normalcy of it all. It was something you never had. He taught you how to do laundry, and what he liked to eat. You learned pretty quickly that you liked cooking. 

Jensen told you that you could have social media if you wanted to, but you honestly didn’t feel the need for it. You didn’t really want to admit it to him, but you were a little afraid of social media, to be honest. You knew Jensen was famous for the series Supernatural that he was in for 15 years. Which you had taken to watching when you have free time. You thought it was interesting to see Jensen so young. You even watched a few movies that he was in when he was closer to your age. 

All that though just made you more, and more afraid to be on social media. You knew from talking to Gen, who had become more of a friend to you than you expected, that people on there could be mean, and cruel, and you just didn’t want that kind of negativity. Jensen didn’t seem to mine your offput mindset to it. He didn’t really like it either. Only had it because it was sort of a requirement for his job. 

Since he had claimed you though he didn’t seem to like leaving the house or being away from you to far. He had taken more to working on his music, something that had become a sort of an outlet for him, and you never get tired of hearing him. 

It had taken you a little longer than you expected for you to get used to the amount of freedom Jensen offered you. Just three days ago Gen had wanted you to go out and get your nails done with her. You were afraid to ask him to go, even though you wanted to, he practically shoved you two out the door. He had plans to go golfing with Jared that day and was always pushing for you to get out and do something you enjoy. 

It was the night you looked forward to though. When the day had finally come to a close. When the doors were locked, and the lights went out. His lips on yours, his big warm hands roaming your body, his strong arms holding you close while the two of you slept. Bodies still locked together. His knot buried deep inside of you. Connected on a level you never even knew existed and really don’t even understand. You fell more and more in love with Jensen every day you were together, especially at night….

Leaning over to pace Jensen’s diner in the oven your mind a million miles away from where you were standing in the kitchen. You heard the front door close. His scent entered the room before you really saw him. As always. 

You listened as his footsteps made their way to you where you were in the kitchen. When you saw him you knew immediately something was off. He wasn’t his usual cuddly self but kept his distance staring at you across the bar island in the kitchen. Both his hands leaning on the counter. A square box in one hand. 

“Baby, I’m so sorry, I tried to get us out of this, I really did.” 

Your heart rate jumped up to an unbelievable speed in your throat. Fear gripping the corners of your subconscious. An uneasy feeling coming off your Alpha you had never felt before. Sitting you on edge. 

“Get us out of what?” 

Jensen made his way across the room to where you were standing, box left unopened on the island. His arms wrapping around you, pulling you as tightly to his chest as possible, burying his face in your neck and scenting you deeply. He was looking for some form of comfort and trying to keep his own emotions in check. 

Not lifting his head from your neck he began to speak, his voice so low at first that you weren’t even sure that he was talking to you.

“My dad called me today while I was at the studio working. They are going to set my brother Josh up to take over as pack leader once my father passes away because I forfeited the right when I refused to move us into the estate with my family. Which I knew. It’s what I wanted. The only problem is that we are required to come to the ceremony that will be held to announce my brother as air as to Ackles family estate, and the family business.” he paused for a moment, giving you time to catch up.  

You and Jensen had disgusted your family over the past three weeks. You saw now just how unhealthy and abusive your relationship with your family really was, and you decided you didn’t want any part of it. You wanted to do just like your Alpha and walk away, create a life for yourselves. Grow old together. If you ever did have pups you didn’t want them to grow up in that life. It’s something, to be honest, you wanted to forget about completely. Now here it was. You were going to have to make your first public ‘family’ appearance with Jensen. 

He could feel your body tense underneath his hold and he kissed your neck softly. His warm, soft lips making a trail over your claiming mark in an attempt to try to calm you.

“Do we have to say at the estate? Or just for the Ceremony?” you asked, your own voice barely above a whisper.

“Just the ceremony then we can leave…. Y/N, your parents will be there,” he said looking at you for the first time.

“Y/N, if there was a way out of this, I would take it. I’ve tried. I’ve been arguing on the phone with my father for over an hour. I don’t want to bring my Omega in a room full of Alphas, that think it’s okay to treat their mates like slaves. I’m not okay with bringing you back in that. I will protect you Omega. They won’t be able to touch you.” 

His lips softly grazed your forehead as you nuzzled into his chest. You could feel the anxiety rolling off of him. 

You knew what he was referring to. Not all the Alphas in either the Ackles clan or yours thought old school formalities were needed concerning Omegas, and if you were claimed you were claimed into the clan… Meaning any Alpha could have you, as long as they were part of the pack. 

Reaching over to the island Jensen grabbed the box and handed it to you.

“As you know in these types of formal events it’s custom to have the Omegas wear these..”

Opening the box your stomach churned a little. You had read about these. Even seen your mother and the other Omegas wear them. At one time you would have been excited to be asked to adorn one. Now though, having been away from it all; you noticed just how disgusting and degrading these things really were.

Inside the box was a, I’ll be it beautiful for what it was, claiming collar. It was a golden linked chain with small diamonds laid around it, and Jensen’s initials engraved into the side. It had his scent on it as well. 

“I would never ask you to wear it, you know that, and when this is over you can go throw that fucking thing in the fireplace,” Jensen said. Looking down at the box with pure disgust. 

Closing the box you lay it on the counter behind him. 

“Once this is over Jensen we’re free. I’m not looking forward to this either, but it’s worth the little bit of trouble we have to go through, and one uncomfortable evening with the two packs for a lifetime of freedom isn’t it.” You ran your hands through his hair that was already sticking up everywhere. Probably from him running his hands through it with frustration over and over again. 

Jensen melted into your touch. At that moment you noticed something that you had never noticed with Jensen before. 

Normally he was a strong, independent Alpha. Aside from the playfulness, the fact that he was the most caring Alpha you had ever seen. Even more so with you. He had a big heart. He would go out of his way to help complete strangers in the grocery store that were struggling to load their groceries for God’s sake! 

You never saw anything that really bothered him. Not until this. He almost seemed…. Vulnerable. It hit you then. There were times, that even though he liked to act like nothing ever got to him. The big strong Alpha that man, that he definitely was, he needed reassurance and someone to take care of him from time to time too.

He pulled you closer to him. The two of you just standing there in the kitchen holding on to each other like nothing else mattered. Like if you held on to each other tight enough, then this would all go away, and you would be safe again. Just the two of you.

“Your father, he’s going to be livid,” Jensen said. Scenting you. Looking for the comfort you were giving him. Searching deeper. This was it. This is what he didn’t want to talk to you about.

“Why would my father be angry? We mated. You claimed me. I was given to you just like I was promised… Why would he have any reason to be angry?” You ask. Confusion clouding you.

“Well y/n the thing is. Even though we upheld the union between the families ultimately kept the peace and staved off what would basically be a civil war in all of South Texas. Me not taking my father’s position upon his passing, and turning down the role as pack leader made your father lose his title. See even though it held off the feud. Because I turned it down, and you are not a pack leader’s Omega, he lost his rank in your pack. They ousted him, and gave the role of Pack Leader to your Uncle David and his family.” He said pulling away to search your eyes. 

You stared back at him, confused at first. Not sure what to do… How to make sense of what Jensen was telling. Your father was demoted…. He was no longer the pack leader…

“What’s going to happen to my family?” You asked. Afraid for your sisters. They had been through so much too, and they weren’t lucky enough to have a strong Alpha to protect them from your father’s rath. You knew Jensen was right about one thing. He would be livid.

“From what my father told me was that the pack gave them a nice estate out in the country. He still has a pretty high rank don’t get me wrong, and he will be taken care of. It’s just… the shame that came with the demotion he didn’t take well..” 

You stood there as fear gripped your every fiber of your being. He was going to be at this party, and he was going to be livid. You didn’t know for the first time in your life what his reaction would be to you. You were no longer under his control, but Jensen’s that was a game-changer for sure, but would it be enough? 

You buried your face into your Alpha’s neck, scenting him deeply. Letting his scent surround you. Warming you from the inside out. Calming you in a way that made all the unpleasantries and uncertainties not matter anymore. He smelled stronger than usual. Making your stomach quiver a little. Tentative you reach up and lick at his neck. Pulling the low purr from him that you loved to hear so much. 

“What do you smell so strong today Alpha? I noticed it when you left the shower this morning.”

Jensen took a deep breath. Calming himself and you. Brushing your lips with his lightly. It was things like that. The simple little displays of affection that made you weak for him. Made you fall harder and harder for the handsome green-eyed Alpha. That was currently clinging to you like a drowning man. 

“I’m probably about a week out from my rut. That’s what makes this worse. Stress can bring it on early. I DO NOT want to go into rut at this fucking ceremony. I wanted to be home with you when we went through this the first time together. Not have to settle for being in some fucking hotel room.” 

Well shit. That was a game-changer. You had been a little nervous for Jensen’s first rut to strike since his claiming you, but now. With it very much an impending reality you really wanted to be home to. Somewhere you both felt safe. 

“When do you have to leave?”

“Tomorrow… It’s tomorrow night…”

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