#why doesn’t my post appear on the tag list

[lucysarah-c]

Transactional

Summary: When you go to ask Captain Levi for a promotion, it's important to remain humble. Author note: I've had this idea for so long... this had been collecting dust in my computer for SO LONG. Because I wanted it to be hot and dirty like the underground's air but at the same time I was scared that it was a "bit" too much. That's it. In case I forget any warning or tag, feel free to remind me. Pairing: Levi x fem! reader. Warnings: Top Levi Ackerman, Dubious Consent, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Smut, MP reader, Levi x MP reader, Captain Levi Ackerma, Dirty talk, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Cigarrettes, Smoking, Alcohol, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Power Play, Oral sex, DUBCON, Bondage, Breathplay. Word count: 12k words of pure porn. You had been warned lmao HONESTLY, JUST BECAUSE I MANAGED TO EDIT this long ass post in the tumblr editor I DESERVE A LIKE AND A REBLOG (jk... but if you want its not a joke)

The agonizing rubatosis, mixed with the upsetting silence, creates a disconcerting atmosphere. Frowned eyebrows, eyes closed, cold feet rubbing over each other, and itchy underwear contribute to the discomfort. A deep breath in, count to 4, hold it for 7, and exhale slowly, counting to 8. Fists tighten, jaw clenches, and breathing becomes agitated.

‘Should I?’

Shea butter and vanilla penetrate her senses, smoothing legs that perfectly align, having been meticulously shaved. Not a single rough patch of skin, not a single hair, not a single cell left unmoistened. The hair conditioner matched the body lotion, nails painted a deep shade of red. Lips glide smoothly over each other thanks to the reddish gloss, creating a subtle plumping effect. The darkness enveloped her; hair spread on the pillow, eyelashes curved and painted a deep shade of black, with mascara perfectly in place. Blushed cheeks, radiant skin, softly glittering eyes, enhanced with brown pencil. Self-performed surgeon work, like an architect drawing up plans.

Reflective, slightly darker lips create the illusion of being kissed. Rosy cheeks mimic arousal. Uncomfortable underwear, but a perfect frame for her body. Subtly enhanced eyes for a pleasing view from the top. Everything is calculated, makeup that doesn’t look like makeup, intentionally tousled hair. She couldn’t recall the last time she put this much effort into her appearance for someone else. Usually, she dressed up for herself or her friends. A guy? Never, as far as she could remember.

All the to-do list’s lines had been checked except for one. The last item on her mental list was ‘Do you dare?’

Did she, though? Did she dare to slide her bare, smooth legs across the sheets, touch the cold floor, sneak through the corridors, slip inside through the creaked door, wait in the gloom with only one candle at the kitchen during late hours, hoping the collected info was real, and perhaps, only perhaps, see him appear through the door?

The place was ridiculously silent; she could hear her own feet against each other, her nervous tapping nails. Scouts followed rules, always doing what they were told, unlike the MPs. Even in the deep of night, you could hear everything—people making deals, cadets sneaking out, higher-ups taking cadets for personal parties. It was as if, the moment curfew started, another world began. Mixing that with the streets of the capital that never slept, the constant babble in the background. However, that wasn’t the scouts’ reality, and maybe that’s why she hated sleeping there so much. Somehow, she had gotten used to the sleepwalker city, and its ceaseless mutter became her lullaby.

After the retake of Wall Maria, after the coronation of the new queen Historia, life inside the walls changed drastically, especially in the military. New uniforms, universally appreciated in black, and the roles within the military became more ambiguous. MPs were still MPs, but they also contributed to the advances of new constructions, the displacement of new citizens to the reclaimed lands, and everyone learned how to use the new anti-person 3DMG.

Life was improving, or so many decided to believe. The scouts, almost eradicated after they took Wall Maria, saw an increase in their ranks. Transfers happened more than ever, and their salaries went from being the worst to the personal favourite military brand of the queen. Promotions were granted based on performance, sacrifice, and meritocracy—a notion she found irritatingly noble. Out of pettiness, boredom, or perhaps jealousy.

Extra-curricular activities? Even before she graduated from the trainee lines, she was in the top ten of her class, with excellent behaviour and military antecedents. Reports from citizens praised her attention and willingness to help. Double-checking almost everything. Therefore, explain why she had been rejected for a promotion so many times in the last years. The simple answer: anything in the MPs was about contacts and money, even as life inside the walls changed.

There was always an excuse—someone else deserved it better, a son of someone else got a spot that was rightfully hers, a green cadet got it simply because he was a man, and she clearly wasn’t. She wouldn’t lie and say that her desire to join the scouts had always been there. As a single daughter of a single mother, her wishes had always been to provide for her, to help her around. The day she could make her old mother stop working with her MP’s salary had been her happiest day.

Discussing it with her friend as they delivered provisions to the lines working on the train’s rails, not seeking help, but rather complaining in confidentiality. Concentrated so deeply in her venting that she didn’t notice how her friend remained quiet for a split second and then interrupted her with a cheerful smirk.

“Captain Levi just checked your ass.”

It caught her off guard, involuntarily making her want to check. “DON’T TURN!” her friend almost screamed. The idea felt bizarre, not because she wasn’t confident in her looks—she was hot as hell, and nobody could tell her otherwise. But… Captain Levi? From the Special Operation Squad? THE Captain Levi who had led the Uprising? Humanity’s Strongest Soldier? … That Captain Levi? Then, she gave it a second thought, slightly shaking her head.

“You must have imagined it,” she said.

“I SWEAR, you bent, and he checked you,”

“But… Captain Levi is?”

“Short?”

“No, you idiot. I mean yes, but not what I’m trying to say,” she corrected herself. “He just… I’ve never even heard about him with any girl, anyone to be more precise.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” her friend said, grabbing a box and starting to walk away, “but I know what I saw.”

Superiors and higher ranks checking her out, catcalling, perhaps even touching without permission? UFF, the military was full of them, even when she was much younger. However, Captain Levi could be an antisocial, stoic little jerk, but it had never struck her as those types of men. Always so uptight, correct, stoic, disinterested. There was a rumour circulating that perhaps… and only perhaps, he wasn’t particularly fond of women. A few female soldiers had tried to show their interest during military hangouts, and none of them had been successful. Considering military men’s pent-up frustration, that was very odd behaviour.

If there’s a rumour that spreads faster than what happens in someone’s sheets, it’s the lack of activity in those sheets. Captain Levi seemed to be on the other spectrum of the rumours. He definitely wasn’t a womanizer, and if he was one, what a smooth criminal he was. Not a single victim had been known.

“You know what would give you that promotion?” The administrative higher-up enlightened her after another unsuccessful raise in her salary. Her resentful eyes admired the boy, easily seven years younger than her, getting a spot because his father was a military member too. Her tired stare moved slowly back to her front, silently waiting for the pointless information to be given to her. A better cover letter? CV? Extra hours? Non-paid internships in other divisions? What?

“A recommendation from someone important.”

The red lips of the administrative staff moved slowly. If Y/N squinted a bit, she would have been able to hear the indirect suggestion. Between women, softly getting closer so the secretary could whisper without being heard. Glasses pushed down the nose bridge, and Y/N drew closer to hear the secret.

“You know, the scouts are making a big impact around here lately. Think about it.”

The words accumulate on her throat; her lips trembled, but nothing aside from indecipherable sounds left her mouth, frowning slightly at the idea.

“Think about it,” the woman repeated. “You won’t be the first girl, dear, and I guarantee you won’t be the last one.”

The wisdom that came with age and serving the military's paperwork for so many years must have given the woman enough knowledge to suggest it so plainly. What she hated the most? She had been considering it badly; she needed the money; she wanted the promotion. What was the difference between some stupid daddy's boy licking the boots of his higher-up for the position than this?

The boldest side of her mind insisted that she had slept with ex-boyfriends who were less attractive, less influential, and definitely less clean than Captain Levi. Yes, Captain Levi, because if she was doing this, she was going big or going home. Not some random newly promoted squad leader or anything. Those were the other options at the scout after they got almost eradicated—purely freshly adults. Her mind tried to convince herself of an easier target, like Jean perhaps, but she gagged at the idea. ‘He’s a baby, barely 18.’

For a split second, she wished Commander Erwin was alive. Never met him; she hadn’t even talked to him, but the blond seemed like an easier target somehow. Was it because people had talked about a chick or two that he took to his hotel’s room after parties? Maybe.

‘What’s the worst thing that could happen?’ pondering around the idea, like a friend encouraging you to confess to the boy you have a crush on. “You already got the no, go for the yes!” they would say, but this wasn’t silly girlish crushes.

‘That he says no and thinks of you as some cheap-ass whore.’

No, this wasn’t a crush. It was plain transactional.

‘Well… not like Captain Levi had ever looked over to me as if he had me in any sort of high esteem to begin with.’

Back to the beginning. They had ordered her to help around the Scout’s facilities as they developed the new train station around Paradise, and as soon as those orders had reached her ears, the plan was rolling. ‘Now… or never.’

Battle dress on: short loose shorts, a loose shirt that barely covered her belly, and her fanciest lingerie underneath. Captain Levi always made himself a cup of tea late at night to carry on with paperwork. Her military’s trajectory to secure the objective was: leave her bed, go there, and hope that her glossy lips and glittery eyes would do the trick. This was far from what she was used to, and what had boosted her confidence earlier that day to get ready had easily dripped away. Leaving her tied up to her bed as an external force that incapacitated her from doing it.

‘He’s not your higher-up; he can’t fire you directly.’

‘But what if he does?’

‘He’s probably small and will last a couple of minutes with luck; it’s easy as cake.’

‘What if he tells someone?’

‘You got nothing to lose and a lot to win.’

‘Everybody does something to scale in the MPs; no amount of extra work and good behaviours would get you anywhere. Think about what you could buy with that promotion.’

Tiptoes on the ground, a deep sigh, hands on the edge of the mattress pushing her up, calculated steps on the wood planks that didn’t squeak, palm against the edge of the door to close it without making a sound, single candle in her grip waiting for her to reach the kitchen to turn it on, non-existing hairs raising on her legs due to the coldness of the halls, curious eyes checking over her shoulder as she reached the kitchen, candle on, kettle on the fire, speech ready.

‘Now… are you going to show up, Captain?’

The flame of the candle flickered in the night air. She had heated the water multiple times, taking the kettle off the stove before it boiled, resting it on the countertop, and once it cooled, returning it to the fire. The script had been prepared, written, and practiced in her mind. However, the main participant in this story, her co-star, had not made his triumphant appearance.

First, she waited in a poised position, then faced the door while resting her weight on the countertops. After an hour and a half, the cold had crept up on her, fighting and winning against the burning heat of the nerves, leaving her shivering. Bent over the countertops with her eyes fixed on the kettle, she seemed disinterested, disappointed, and tired.

Her hand covered her mouth in a loud yawn. Once the anxiety had subsided, tiredness set in—slow blinks, head buried between her arms on the table, eyes still fixed on the kettle. It was right there, on the fire, still with time to boil. "You're going to burn the whole place down," a voice interrupted her thoughts.

That snapped her back from her reverie. It was evident that her mind had conjured a realistic dream because the kettle she was supposed to be watching had been removed from the fire, with a cloth covering the handle, and placed on the countertop, far from her reach to prevent burns. Steam billowed loudly from it, whistling in the stillness of the night.

Standing up, she froze in place, her mouth slightly agape as she tried to process what she was witnessing. The first few buttons of his grey shirt were undone, and he wore black trousers of the uniform, but no boots. Although his slippers didn't match the scene, his exhaustion was unmistakable. There he stood, as stoic and unfriendly as ever: Captain Levi, with rolled-up sleeves, removing the kettle from the fire and clicking his tongue as he turned off the gas.

Facing away from her, he seemed as indifferent as if she were just another countertop in the kitchen. Her nails softly scraped her arms as she pondered whether to press further, take the hint, or if she was simply cold, hence why she ran her hands up and down her arms. The muscles of his back contracted and moved, the V-shaped shadow down his spine emphasized his broad shoulders and defined waist. His rolled-up sleeves made her admire his porcelain skin, catching the light in particular shapes as some of his forearm hair shimmered under the candlelight.

While the slippers detracted slightly from the uniform, diminishing the powerful feeling, she had to admit, upon deeper thought, that the tight black trousers of his new uniform were incredibly appealing. Despite his short stature, Captain Levi was a fine specimen of a man. The subtle notion that perhaps scouts, with their heavy training, gather a couple of points from the MPs in that department. After all, MPs hardly bothered to train beyond the obligatory, which was very little.

Slightly turning to his right, locking eyes with her with an unapproachable demeanour, hand on hip, he questioned, "Dare to explain what you're doing breaking curfew, cadet? Do you want to jeopardize us all with your incompetence"

The first part of her plan was to improvise. ‘I couldn’t sleep,’ she thought about saying, but how could she claim that after sleeping over the countertop? His grey eyes, almost cat-like, hunted her in the dark, and suddenly, she felt her legs tremble. There was something inexplicably magnetic about him now that she had him up close, alone, in the middle of the night.

Her lips, still glossy, parted in doubt as she mumbled uneasily, "I…" She wanted to come up with a new excuse, but quickly realized she wasn’t cut out for this, for the whole charade. "I have a headache," she finally managed.

His face remained unreadable, uninterested eyes glued to her, judging her, waiting for her to break under his scrutiny, like a mother who knows you’re lying, allowing a brief moment of silence for a confession before taking matters into her own hands. But Y/N stayed resolute, gathering ambition from unknown sources.

Hand on hips, weight shifting from one leg to another, eyes quickly moving from her face to the countertop. "That won’t help," the words crossed the kitchen as if it were an open field of a hunting sport, piercing her heart but leaving her to crawl an agonizing death until her dying breath.

"Sorry?"

Eyes focusing again on the countertop. "Black tea," he said monosyllabically, as if each word cost him money. "That doesn’t help with headaches; you should get chamomile or peppermint."

"Ah," she replied, confused. Why was he clarifying that? What was the point of this conversation? Crossing legs as the cold crept in, but it quickly vanished as blood rushed to her cheeks.

Turning back around, facing the counter and gripping her own teacup. The recommendation was blatantly ignored; it seemed like a random fact thrown at her rather than something to take seriously, at least for her. About to carry on, she considered just faking preparing the tea and getting away from there.

Frozen in place, each hair on her body raised involuntarily. Not even his steps against the wood planks had been heard. ‘Oh.. Uhm-’ the natural process of breathing was totally forgotten. A strong, patronizing hand sneaking, almost creeping with confidence on her lower back, guiding her toward another cupboard.

He moved closer, getting an involuntary reaction out of her. Straightening up, chest pushing forward, lips parting, breath accelerating. He was so close, looking into her. Eyes locked onto hers over her shoulder, transparent pearls penetrating her soul. Nails sank into her palms as her teeth clenched. If he was so short, why did it feel so towering? Suddenly, the thought of owing him an apology for simply sharing the same air crossed her mind. Her nipples were noticeable through her loose shirt; he must be able to see it. As he grew closer, her idea was that all the subtle little hints must have worked.

Eyes closed, holding her breath, the air moving around her gave her the idea of movement. Holding out for nothing. Waiting for him to steal a kiss from her, perhaps grip her hips, pushing aside her loose short, turning her around, and fuck her roughly and mindlessly over the countertop. Getting what he wanted as if it were rightfully his.

“Here,” she opened her eyes. He was handing her a tea box where it read the same ingredients he had suggested.

“Thank you, sir,” her subtle smile tried to make up for her disappointment. Expectations were different; somehow, her best hopes were on him ogling at her, making it more impersonal and disinterested. Therefore, she could say that she walked up there, perhaps pleased him, and got what she came looking for. It was easier; easier it is to repeat like a broken record some silly washed-up quotes and nicknames that guys allegedly liked. ‘Yes, daddy’, ‘I’ll be a good girl Captain, I just do bad things with you,’ ‘Please, sir. I’m a good girl,’ or something in the department of ‘Ah- its so big, daddy,’ Get used and lose a little bit of dignity in exchange for something else.

Different it is, the tension building in her as she felt him looming over her frame, reminding her of just how insignificant she truly was compared to him. His hand resting lightly on the small of her back, guiding her movements. The coolness of his touch contrasting with the heat radiating off her body. Or the opposite, how cold and exposed she felt with her scant clothes and his cold hand didn’t help. A treacherous finger began to travel upwards, making each vertebra move and curve.

“Sir?” she hated how scared her voice sounded. Suddenly, as if it had escaped her mind, she remembered he was humanity’s strongest soldier. The soldier who went on the expedition to retake Wall Maria and essentially fought the most difficult titan shifter known until now, who led the Uprising. How many MPs did he kill there? How much stronger was he than her? Could she truly still walk away from this, or was her fate sealed?

“You’re stiff as a board; that’s giving you the headaches,” he commented casually as his right hand reached her shoulder and kneaded.

The action was absurdly overwhelming; she didn’t know her traps hurt this much until now but also how to react. Self-preservation mechanisms were out of the window; her lips pronounced what they had been dying to say since she left her bed. “It’s because of the promotion; it’s stressing me out.”

“I can help with that,”

Her worst fears and wildest dreams, all together in a sentence. Confirming what she came looking for but also the end of the speculations. Translucent eyes looked at him over her shoulder, expecting him to make the bolder move. She hated to admit how her heart skipped a beat, how his controlling hand on her neck made her want to arch her spine and gasp softly.

“With the headaches, I mean,” adrenaline had reached a peak and now tumbled down, leaving her devoid of thought other than disappointment mixed with relief. However, his tone, covered in a thin layer of entertainment, passed unaware to her at first.

Both hands on each trap, fingers sank in and then moved. Tearing her muscles apart from her bones, that’s how it felt. Handling, strong, overwhelming. Her breath stuck in her chest, and no matter how much she tried, she wobbled in her place. No amount of strength could help her remain still. Each tug that forced her to press slightly back against his chest, feeling the straps of the uniforms, made her sense weak, nervous. How his strong, calloused fingers felt divine, slightly too rough with the perfect amount of pain to make her forget for a minute but not entirely. Despite their roughness, his nails were perfectly short, making it impossible to experience any scratches.

The thought that perhaps there was another motive behind all this, beyond just getting a promotion, crossed her mind. It was the opportunity to experience how it would feel to be man-handled by the strongest soldier out there until she was left foolish. Her walls pressed together as excitement crept in, reminding her of how lonely and empty she felt. Wouldn’t a little love and something significant big feel extraordinary? The realization of how thin her shorts were and how much her body reacted to his touch filled her with shame.

Allowing him to treat her like some bitch in heat, shooting a load or two for a mere letter that said, "she’s good at what she does," as some cruel inner joke. It left her feeling worthless yet needy, a bad combination.

“Breathe, you’re tensing even more,” he murmured, and she could almost swear the smirk could be felt in his tone. The intentions were to breathe, to remain unaffected, but his movements felt powerfully triggering, and he seemed so unbothered by it. Any force he applied to almost tear her muscles into the correct position didn’t signify any real strength for him.

Each tug began to win little chopped breaths out of her as it was painful but also relaxing. She couldn't help but obey his command, forcing herself to take deep breaths to try and relax. But his touch, his presence, it was all so intense. Each movement of his hands felt deliberate, calculated, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. And she couldn't deny the tingling sensation that spread through her body at his touch, despite her best efforts to remain composed.

She struggled to follow his instructions, her breaths coming out in short, shallow gasps as his hands worked their magic on her tense muscles. Each touch sent shivers down her spine, igniting a strange mix of pleasure and discomfort within her. It was as if he could sense her vulnerability, her longing for something more than just a simple massage. Tug, thumbs pressing against her traps as they moved upwards, dragging her skin with them, chopped out breath as the pressure was too much before it withdrew slowly.

Then all over again, harsh. “Mhh ah-” it left her lips involuntarily as he touched a particular place. She gnawed her lip, holding back. His fingers weren’t particularly soft, not only because of the pressure he delivered but also rough with days and days of working, slightly calloused, rubbing in all the right places. Not again, she swore she was trying to remain composed, how he hadn’t heard her. “AH-” wincing as he moved up and contracted her neck, she feared for a second he would choke her.

His grip tightened, nails digging deeper into her flesh, pulling her downward. Thighs shaking, knees buckled, she fought to keep standing as her world spun. He knew her weakness; he exploited it without remorse. Every touch was a reminder of his dominance, every pull a testament to his power. She was helpless beneath him, unable to escape his grasp. Levi’s hands, humanity’s strongest hands—strong, angled, harsh, broad.

He chuckled.

He chuckled between pulls, his thumb rubbing circles on her sore spots, while his palm pressed harder against her neck.

Y/N froze in place as she felt him chuckle entertained behind her, almost mischievously. “Somebody is excited,” he calmly commented, but the smirk on his face was subtly evident in his tone. His voice was steady, despite the few sassy remarks, and it annoyed her to death. Like a cat playing with a moth until it's dead, they know they've won the game, so why rush it? Let's enjoy the hunt while she’s stripped of her dignity. “Nobody's given it to you in a while?”

Lips parted, feeling a mix of embarrassment and offense, she looked over her shoulder at Levi’s bleary eyes. “Excuse me?” she frowned deeply as she turned. She hadn't realized until then how close he was to her, practically breathing the same air. His stare penetrated her iris and seemed to read her soul, making her swallow uneasily. Her demanding tone quickly withdrew not only from her voice but also from her features. His silence subtly implied, but his presence demanded, ‘Come on, girl. You don’t reply to me like that if you know what's good for you.’ That’s what she got.

“A massage,” he said quietly, “nobody's given you a massage in a while?”

At this rate, she knew he knew. He was playing, dancing around the edge of pretending ignorance and seeing how far she would go. Standing, either summoning the courage to bring up the offer herself or walk out empty-handed. Waiting, like a mafia boss to see how much she would beg before setting her free, or crawling back to him, hoping for an opportunity.

There was an inner battle: either snap at him, reply, or descend all levels of self-love.

“It’s because you’re going too rough,” she said, mainly because she refused to be so quickly humiliated by a guy that short. Both looked at each other; her gaze moved slightly over his eyes, expecting any shift, something, but it was obvious that in a stare fight, he was going to win.

"Rough?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow in mock surprise. “You’ve no idea what rough means.”

Her cockiness quickly withdrew. She wished she had some sassy comeback prepared or ready, but it wasn’t the case. Her teeth rolled along the edge of her bottom lip. It made her curious; either he liked to pretend he had more sexual history than was known, or she had bitten off more than she could chew. It stirred up a mix of curiosity, excitement, nervousness, and fear all at once. Imagining him fucking some unknown soldier rough, mindlessly, just for the sake of it. Scouts were so stressed, living quick, short lives.

Her eyes couldn’t help themselves, quickly dropping down to check. His thick, muscular legs, almost as if they had been forced to fit into the tight black trousers of the uniform. Losing its subtleness, the outline of his dick on one side of his left leg forced her to look back up. She finally turned around to face him again, but his stoic expression gave away little information, almost none.

“Perhaps you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, brat,” his voice began to sound like a distorted dream. She was waiting for some smooth approach or perhaps a fully humiliating one. The expectations were simpler: either he would like to pretend some love he endeared from her or behave like any disgusting dude at a bar, asking for a quickie in a bathroom cabinet. Neither of the two options was less humiliating. But this was different.

At this rate, the humiliation and initial thoughts were replaced by overwhelming curiosity. “How rough?” She felt her glossed lips stick together slightly as she murmured timidly, feeling her head heat up and her stomach tighten. Something intrinsically wrong must be with her, she believed.

With a second thought, she was sure that this would make her extremely ashamed.

“You’ll have to stick around to find out,” he warned, not a single centimetre of his features giving away any sort of intentions. Excitement or expectation, arousal or boredom, sweetness or creepiness. Grey gems looking back at her deadly, daring her to make deals with the devil or walk back home.

‘Go big or go home, didn’t I say that?’

“I want a recommendation,” she finally said it, thrilling anticipation coursing through her veins. This man, this beast, was about to unleash hell upon her body. Yet, she found herself oddly eager for it. Was it fear or excitement? Perhaps both. “and… in exchange, you can go as rough as you want.”

It felt absurdly dirty. Giving it a thought in the hole of self-hate, she concluded that perhaps she should have done this when she was younger, like her friends as cadets. When hormones and lack of experience made it hard to think it through, that receiving a good salary and free days to go out and party was worth letting any squad leader get a chance.

"Recommendation," he echoed, repeating her words as if testing them on his tongue. There was a moment of silence, as if weighing the pros and cons of such a proposition.

Finally, he nodded. "Very well."

Those two words held such weight, sending another wave of nerves through her. What had she gotten herself into? The room suddenly became hotter, thicker, suffocating. Her heart raced faster, pounding heavily in her ears.

Half-lidded, she moved closer, not entirely sure how this was done, if it was meant to start slow and soft for it to escalate. But she tried; she could take the lead in the kiss. But his hand stopped her face as he tilted backwards, completely breaking the moment.

“Who do you think I am?” Levi said, offended. And she feared for her life. Perhaps he just wanted to ascertain how much of an easy, cock-drunk slut she was to give him more reasons to find her worthless. But then, “Some green cadet who, for the sake of getting my cock wet, I would fuck you behind a horse at the stables? Or at the common kitchen?”

She didn’t know how to answer, but thankfully, Levi didn’t give her much time to talk. “My chambers.”

Feeling closer to a military order than a booty appointment, she slowly made her way to the door while he retreated to the counters, tidying up. Her feet dragged across the hall as she pushed open the door, her eyes constantly checking behind her. She couldn't shake the feeling that this might all be a joke.

Before she knew it, his hand urged her forward, pushing at the small of her back to guide her upstairs. "Come on, girly, we don’t have all night," he muttered.

It felt like a shameful march. They ascended the stairs in silence, each step echoing loudly in the otherwise quiet hallway. The stillness of the night only intensified her discomfort; she couldn't shake the feeling that someone might overhear them. Perhaps some night owl among the scouts would peek through a door, or worse, they might already know who slept where. The thought of having to make the same trip downstairs the next morning filled her with dread. As if she would walk out of that room with a paper stuck to her forehead that said, "I was Captain Levi’s slut for a night."

Led through the dim corridors of the base, they passed several closed doors marked 'Officer Quarters,' indicating where higher-ranking personnel resided. Finally, they reached what seemed to be his room. With a swift motion, he unlocked the door and gestured for her to enter first. ‘What a gentleman,’ she thought sarcastically.

As she stepped inside and took in her surroundings, she noticed the simplicity of his chamber. It lacked extravagance, with only functional furniture and tools of his trade. The room felt impersonal, as if he had never bothered to make it feel like home. His office area featured a desk cluttered with paperwork and a bookshelf filled with texts on military strategy and tactics.

To the left were two doors, presumably leading to his bedroom and an attached bathroom. Levi moved past her to search through the cabinets while she observed. Two glasses were already filled by the time he turned to her.

"A drink?" he offered.

She accepted, unable to suppress a subtle smile. Whatever she had anticipated for the night, this wasn't it. Chuckling, she teased, "Do you offer drinks to all the girls you bring over?"

Levi downed his drink and poured another. "No. But you seem nervous as fuck, and it’s making me uncomfortable."

She laughed softly, acknowledging the truth in his statement. "Thank you, then." The burn of alcohol sliding down her throat helped steady her nerves somewhat.

As they stood there, glasses in hand, tension hung thick between them. Hoping the alcohol would ease the tension, she shifted her attention elsewhere, but she could feel his eyes on her, assessing her. Swallowing, Addam's apple moving before he spoke, "Are you clean, right?"

His question caught her off guard, and she almost choked on her drink. "What?" she hummed, not fully comprehending.

Then, fear crept in quickly. "I am… I’m not doing it without protection," she clarified confidently.

His chuckle did little to ease her worry. "No shit, girly. I wasn’t stupid enough as a teen to not wrap it up. I'm not starting now," he replied. "The last thing I need in my life right now is getting a chick knocked up."

His words, despite their lack of warmth, reassured her. "I meant, is it safe for me to eat you out,"

Relief washed over her as she realized her misunderstanding. "Oh," she replied sheepishly. "Yes, you can." As his words sank in, she felt the blood rushing to her cheeks, lips pressing together before she took another sip and crossed her legs. 'Doesn’t he want a blowjob?' How many superiors offer you promotions in exchange for making you cum?

He nodded, finishing his drink in one gulp. His intense gaze never wavered from hers. "Good."

Slowly, he approached her, closing the distance until they were mere inches apart. She could smell the liquor on his breath, taste it on his lips. For a brief moment, she wondered if he expected her to initiate something, but before she could gather her thoughts, their lips met in a passionate kiss. His tongue explored her mouth, asserting dominance as his hands gripped her hips, pressing her against the door.

Pulling away slightly, he pinned her against the door, his hands roaming her body as he kissed her jawline. "Wait… let’s go to the room," she suggested, realizing he meant to fulfil his earlier request.

"No, you're too timid for riding my face. I want to be buried in your pussy right now," he insisted. The impact against the harsh wood surface and his lips reconnecting with her with necessity almost knocked her completely off her breath. Hands that had been kneading her shoulders only a few minutes ago were now digging into her hips, pushing them into his, possessive and demanding.

"Levi," she managed to croak out, her voice barely audible. The kiss was broken again, and her agitated breathing filled the gap between their faces. Surprised by his sudden aggression, she struggled to form coherent thoughts as he continued to devour her neck and shoulders. His hands roamed freely over her body, tracing along her curves and dipping beneath her top to cup her breasts roughly.

“It’s Captain Levi, for you,”

All her attempts to appear seductive were now the natural flush of her face, pumped lips of how they tried to suck each other’s air, the blood in her cheeks, the tossed hair. His hands grabbed the edge of her shorts and played with it. His words crossed the little space between their features with cockiness. “What are you wearing under this for me? Huh? What slutty little shit did you put on to wrap yourself up as if you’re my birthday present?”

A cheeky index finger ghostly touched her belly with its knuckle, making the fine hairs raise involuntarily before tugging on the fabric to sneak a peek. ‘Why doesn’t he just tell me to strip?’ But Captain Levi seemed to be like a cat; he liked to play with his prey until eating them completely, a cruel game. Eyes checked down and hummed in approval. “Black, classic. Not bad,” he said, but a part of his speech didn’t seem impressed. “But I prefer pink.”

Her mind insisted on giving it a second thought, that he didn’t strike her as those types of guys, but anything happening until then had proved to her that she had no idea who he was, what he liked, what type of man Captain Levi was.

Without further prompting, Levi dropped to his knees, positioning himself between her legs. His fingers trailed along the hem of her shorts, pausing briefly before dropping it. He took a moment to appreciate the sight before diving in, his nose brushing against the fabric.

Y/N sucked in a sharp breath as his warm breath tickled her sensitive flesh. Anticipation built within her, mixing with apprehension. It was unavoidable. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to focus solely on the sensations washing over her. A gasp left her lips as he grabbed her right leg and lifted it as if it was nothing and placed it over his shoulder. His calloused hand still lingering on it, gripping her thighs with strength and pleasure, enjoying gripping them as his nose pressed softly against her folds.

Levi's skilled fingers hooked beneath the elastic band of her panties, tugging them aside just enough. Once removed, he ran the pad of his thumb lightly over her swollen core. An involuntary moan escaped her lips. She trembled in a different kind of anxiousness; it was now plainly obvious. With a smirk, Levi leaned in closer, his nose barely grazing her sensitive flesh. "Do you like that, girly?" he whispered, his tone thick with lust. Her answer was evident in the way she trembled under his touch.

Gently, he blew cold air across her wetness, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her. She couldn't help but arch her back, moaning softly as her grip tightened on the door behind her. Nails digging into the wood as terror set in. Slowly, he lowered his head, his tongue darting out to trace the outline of her folds.

Fear. No, he didn’t want a quickie at some public facility. No, he didn’t want some quick blowjob under his desk. No, he didn’t want any fast, easy solution. He wanted to savour each single centimetre of skin, torture all the cells, squeeze each second that he got to play with her as his little possession.

Each flick of his tongue sent shockwaves of sensation throughout her body, making her squirm. His expert hands found purchase on her thighs, holding her firmly in place. His tongue flicked out, teasing her entrance as his thumb kept doing slow little circles on top of her clit. Gripping his shoulders for balance and support. He slid his middle finger across her entrance, coating it with her arousal before dipping it inside. His thumb continued to tease her clit, stroking gently yet firmly.

Her moans grew louder, punctuated by soft whimpers as her head thumped against the door. Her breath agitated as his tongue slipped inside her. “Mh- Ah!” she felt her climax nearing, wondering with half-lidded eyes why he was being so pleasing. It was torture how he moved with perfect sync, but yet it was subtle. As if she let herself be dragged by the course, her body relaxing and twitching unintentionally as he held her in place.

Her back arched unintentionally, trying to follow him as he suddenly pulled back when she was about to reach her peak. “Captain-”

“That’s it, get all soft for me,” He murmured as he casually kissed the bottom of her belly. Before he went back, determined. It only took one, two, three flicks of his thumb directly over her bud to make her gasp loudly, press her raised leg against his head and feel how the other tensed and then struggle to keep her up. Her breath struggled to find a rhythm when all of a sudden, he took all of her in. Unapologetic tongue ran flat all over her fold before closing over the top so he started to suck and lick directly her clit as two unceremonious fingers were playing with her entrance before sinking in all the way.

Her mouth opened, but no sound came out as her nails scratched the door and she began to twist in position as if it was too much after her release.

“MH- Ah, no wait- AH!” a loud moan cut her complaints as his fingertips found a particular place and decided to assault it with no mercy, as his mouth kept playing directly over her clit. It was too much; she felt her leg shaking as much as she felt his fingers getting impossibly wet and slippery inside with no remorse anymore. They pushed against her walls, making her feel the tug of her own body before returning to press against that spot.

“No. No-hah!” She began convulsing against the wall, her head moving hectically to the side as she felt herself getting impossibly wet and electric waves coursing through her. “Please- No! Wait ah! No."

Palms pressed against the door, trying to push herself upwards, but he grabbed her shaking leg that was struggling to keep her up and positioned it over his shoulder with the other. The movement was so smoothly done; to him, it felt natural, but for her, it felt like a completely different situation. The strength with which he moved left her absurdly powerless; the tug felt so powerful as if she didn’t even notice the resistance she was exerting compared to his.

Then, he completely sat on his face. She felt everything—the contour of his face as her body rocked involuntarily, his fingers slipping in and out as his nose rubbed against her folds while his tongue licked clean her abused hole. “HM!” she gasped loudly, jerking upwards before falling completely over his head when the hand that was kneaded the meat of her thigh slapped her loudly.

She wanted to move, to slip away as she felt as if her bones were being drained, uncontrollable pleasure overtaking her. Her thighs pressed against his head as one of her hands moved downwards to tug his soft dark locks, obsessed, shivering as her mind kept shutting down.

Tears pricked at her eyes as she struggled against him, fighting against his strong grasp. "Please, Captain, I can't take it anymore!" she pleaded, her voice hoarse and desperate. “I’m fucking going to piss myself.”

With a smirk hidden from view, Levi held her in place, refusing to let her go. He knew exactly where she stood, only groaning pleasingly as he intensified his actions. His fingers thrust into her relentlessly, matching his rhythm with the flicks of his tongue. Levi could feel her hips buck violently, trying to escape his relentless assault, how she squirmed helplessly in his grasp. He was feasting on her with no remorse.

She cried out his name, unable to bear the intensity any longer. Her orgasm hit like a freight train, her body convulsing as she tried to pull away. But he wouldn't allow it, keeping her anchored to his mouth, shaking as he kept driving his tongue all over her. The feeling of being dripping was overshadowed by him drinking her in as if he was the thirstiest man alive, moaning against her folds as she could almost bet she felt his pleased smirk.

At some point, she couldn’t even hold her form against the door, twitching involuntarily. Levi reluctantly released her, wiping his mouth clean with the back of his hand. He stood up and picked her up, no buckling knees, no groan or scoff as he did; it was as if he was picking up a paper sheet from the desk. Weightless, powerless against his pull. Unceremoniously, he dropped her on the bed.

Jacket off shoulders, left at the back of a chair inside his room. Arness's upper part was pushed down so his hands could grip the edge of his grey shirt and push it over his head. Then, before she could process it, enjoying the soft cotton of the fabric against her body, marking a huge difference from the rough door, one of his knees sank on the mattress before he crawled to be between her legs.

Elbows on the bed, heels pushing upwards, her broken voice pleaded, “no, please. It’s enough,” as he kissed and nibbled the sweet part of her inner thighs before moving to her core again. “Ah!” she jerked again as he snapped the side of her leg again.

The tingling heat after the hit lingered on her as Levi rearranged her on the bed to his pleasure. “I think you’re not understanding your position,” he groaned, “I’ll say when it's enough; you just have to spread your legs for me to do what I please. That’s your fucking job now if you want your stupid letter, lay there and be a good pliant hole for me to fuck.”

Uncomfortable groans echoed in the room, interrupted by his own voice once again, “Did I make myself clear?”

“Yes…” she murmured but his haunting glance between his legs made her thought he heard her backwards softly. Passing down saliva, “Yes, sir.”

“This is your last warning,” he informed her, while his hands ran up and down her body, palm flat against the valley of her breasts, the touch was so soft but it felt subtly rough from the callouses of his hands, a permanent reminder this wasn’t supposed to feel as lovely as it momentarily did. “Did you hear me, girly? Or have I already fucked you dumb?”

“Yes, sir.”

Contorting uneasily as little whimpers left her lips between a mix of discomfort, pleasure, exhaustion, and pain. Pain because she could already feel his fingers sneaking in, three of them patiently spreading her for him and his restless mouth once again on work. It was too much, involuntarily her legs pushed against the mattress when he hit a particular place. Twisting as if she was possessed, fingers tugging from the sheets and her back arching as a natural reflex.

It was embarrassing how much she felt the wetness of her own mixed with his saliva sneaking through her ass cheeks down to the bed. Her legs felt weak but got a sudden burst of strength as he kept playing with a place that made her eyes roll back and tried to push her up. Levi held her in place, arm surrounding her thighs and arching her core to his face. Despite it all, her hole twitched with the necessity of more, demanding something even bigger as she felt her pinkie fingers going numb from the overpressure.

Knees buckled as he parted momentarily. “What a cute little slutty hole. You’re so tight; I will enjoy fucking it raw,” while she trembled in anticipation, Levi smirked as if he could already see everything he had planned in his mind. He softly pressed a finger on it only to see it clamp down onto it. “So fucking needy; when was the last time you got a good cock to fuck you back into your place?”

With a smirk, Levi withdrew his finger, replaced it with his mouth, and plunged inside, sucking her into his mouth. His finger teased against the back wall, exploring her depths before finding the spot that made her buck wildly. She mewled, her voice hoarse and filled with a hint of desperation. Her head thrashed from side to side, her nails digging into the sheets as she begged for mercy.

The following two orgasms were quick; Levi was getting eager to plow into her pussy with his dick now. His finger pried her open, and his tongue easily got in and swirled around. At this rate, she was just spread on the bed, twitching miserably, whimpering out of pleasure and the sweet pain it provided. “It’s so pretty when you cry,” he joked as little mewling sounds left her rose lips, and her eyes looked translucent with clamped-out eyelashes by the moisture. “Beg me more.”

Her eyes fluttered open, desperate and pleading. "Please, sir… just fuck me already," she begged. The intensity of her arousal was overwhelming; her body begged for release.

Levi got up to his knees, looking down at her and then between her legs, admiring his own creation with a smirk on his face. Fingers casually unbuckling his belt, letting it hang loosely around his hips as he undid the front button of his black uniform trousers and shamelessly patted the front of his engorged dick, feeling the outline of his erection through the fabric and hissing slightly as he finally got some relief from the pressure. As if he enjoyed forcing himself to enjoy every little bite from his meal, saving the best for last, testing his endurance of resisting to the last limit so each little inch that he plugged in of his dick finally in that slippery hot heaven felt like pure blessing. His left hand, which wasn’t touching himself, caressed her leg that forced to be up because she could no longer do it on his own.

“Ass up, girly,” he said. The command had been processed, but it was as if her body wasn’t replying to her mind. The only thing she could fully process was the movement of the mattress and how cold the bed felt as Levi abandoned it. Lazy steps against the wood planks that gave up little cracking sounds. Striding in front of his dresser, slightly bending, allowing her to have a good view of his ass as he dropped the trousers with the underwear all together and then quickly folded them and threw them over the surface, but he upheld something with his left hand from his clothes that she couldn’t perceive from the perspective of spying on him from her lazily open legs and half-lidded eyes. Fingers rummaged through a couple of things before he got what he had been looking for.

“It seems like I’ve to do fucking everything,” he complained, but there was no hint of actual anger in his voice, stoic as ever as he walked back to the bed with his hard dick on full display. Impossible erect and slightly dripping pre-cum from the tip that was a deep shade of red compared to the rest of his pale body, it involuntarily twitched as if it was happy of being finally free. She bit her bottom lip as she delighted herself with the view before doing a little eye contact; it was a good size, way more than she anticipated. Underneath it his heavy balls and on top a nice happy trail that resembled a signal that indicated anything under his belly button and chiseled abs was also a happy surprise.

Her eyes quickly fell to his left hand, and she noticed the belt from the 3DMG gear. While the reason why he may have kept that was rather obvious, the possibility escaped her rationality. “Wait- You’re not using that-“

“I said.” He just gripped the sides of her hips and flipped her over, “Ass up.”

Knees sank on the bed, “MHMP-“ her complaints were muffled by the bed as avoiding her full upper body falling completely into the mattress was difficult as he gripped her arms.

“I told you, it was your last warning,” Levi said as the belt tied up against her wrists, knotting up safely. Her face buried in the sheets by the pressure of her own weight, “I’ll teach you discipline, little shit.”

Hands massaging her ass cheeks, fingers sinking in the meat as his own knees against her legs forced more space. “HMP!” muffled complaint as swiftly one hand impacted on her ass, heat spreading through the skin and turning it red as the sound echoed in the dead of night. His hand followed, leaving a mark on her ass. The heat traveled through her skin, and she could feel her pussy drenching with need. She whimpered, trying to squirm against the belt, but he held her in place. Another and another, each time made her jerk forward slightly as her breath held in her chest and then puffed out.

“Please…” she whispered as her head turned to a side, resting her cheek on the mattress. “I’ll behave, please.”

Levi hummed, but his hand didn’t leave her ass, caressing the hurt zone softly. “Don’t you think we should make it even?”

The next swat landed on her other cheek, making her eyes water and her body jerk. "Please!" she cried out, her voice hoarse and desperate. Her whole body tensed, every nerve ending screaming in anticipation and desire.

Levi grunted, "Ah. You’re such a crying baby. As all MPs," he growled, rubbing the red splotches with his calloused hand. "You're so wet, begging for my dick. You better be grateful you're getting it."

“Ah-!” she gasped loudly as he slapped her ass again. The grip on her hair pushed her head up, and despite the tug and the strength of the grip, the relief of fresh air filling her lungs finally clouded her mind. His breath impacted on her face from the side as he held her, watching how her mouth hung open, panting softly.

“Thank me for showing you your place,” Levi demanded.

“Thank you, sir,” she whispered, forcing herself to look at him from the side. Locking her pleading eyes with his demanding stare. “Thank you for reminding me of my place, sir.”

Levi hummed satisfied, his fingers weaving into her hair again. "That's my girl," he growled, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. “Good girl,” he repeated before placing a kiss on her shoulder blades that were working extra hard by having her hands tied back. He released her hair, gave her ass one last swat, and then positioned himself behind her. She whimpered one last time, face resting on the side as she observed him opening up the foil of the condom carefully and then the subtle hiss as he rolled it down his dick. One hand lazily jerked himself as another reached for her folds and casually ran up and down his thumb through them, spreading the slick evenly.

“You should be riding my cock until I got tired of keeping it wet and warm, yet here I am,” Levi complained as if he wasn’t the one taking each and every decision while shamelessly gripping her tied-up hands from the back to position himself. “Fucking you silly and doing all the shitty job; maybe I should get that promotion,”

‘As if this wasn’t what you wanted.’

But she decided to carry on with the performance, either out of self-preservation, arousal, or the feeling of the cold-wrapped head of his cock running up and down her folds, applying soft pressure at her entrance before withdrawing, had already made her mad. “Thank you, sir.”

The angle of her body, the arch of her back, his hand on her hip, and his subtle hum of approval. Her mouth hung open, and the gasp was fully cushioned by the bed, struggling against her binds. Despite her assumptions, Levi sank in slowly and patiently, despite slipping inside effortlessly.

“Ah- Fuck,” he scoffed out, gritting his teeth as his head fell backward slightly, forcing himself to savor the moment but not completely lose it, gasping slightly. Withdrawing only a bit before thrusting back in, testing the waters. He took a moment to adjust, breathing heavily through his nose, and then began to thrust slowly. Each movement was met with a soft whine from the girl. But the soft, almost loving pace lasted the split of a second, a brief moment of calmness before the storm.

She should have known, at this rate, the second one of his hands abandoned her hip to grip the belt around her tied-back hands and used it as leverage. The tug from the resistance, the forced into place, and one deep thrust that knocked the air out of her lungs. Withdrawing almost all the way, almost only the tip left in before he used her own hands as a grip to push all the way in.

"God damn," he cursed under his breath, pushing in deeper. “You’re so tight,” he muttered, a pleased growl escaping his throat. Meanwhile, she would swear she was trying to breathe more, but the sheets stuck to her face and covered her nose. She tried to cry a little bit less loud because despite her features being buried down, the loud muffled moans each time he plunged all the way in mixed with the loud slapping of the bed frame against the wall must have woken up someone somehow.

“MH-HMP!” Her dignity told her not to sob of how good it feels, how deep it hits, how it felt as if he was trying to break her in half, conserve some dignity, but tears ran down her face of how perfectly synced he set the rhythm, how the friction of her parted knees against the sheets was starting to burn, but it was the perfect mix of how his cock’s head hit that place so brutally sweet.

“Fucking shit, what a pretty view on all fours,” he grunted, his voice sounding less controlled. The lust creeping in as his free thumb pushed his ass cheeks apart, locking his eyes on the way his cock disappeared into the slippery mess of her abused hole at that rate. “Ah-“ Levi let out a subtle moan as if the view was too much to handle, as the sweat glistened on her skin. The only way to not get completely lost in it was to spark it again.

“NH-AH!” she cried out as her legs trembled and her lips gasped for air.

“Best ass inside the walls,” Levi groaned. “And it’s all mine to fuck raw.”

Each thrust, each pull out, and then the deep push - Levi grunted, his own breathing ragged. He gripped the belt, pulling her hands slightly, making her hiss as the pressure against her skin was starting to leave obvious marks. Marks that joined all the rest of them, the still fresh, almost pulsating red handprints on each of her ass cheeks, the shameless bites he left on her shoulder blades each time he bent over to it.

His pace quickened, and so did her tears. She was soaked, her toes curled, and her body shook with each hit. She was a mess, a crying, whiny mess, and yet she was enjoying it, her core clenching around his cock with every movement. Levi growled, and his thrusts became harder, faster, more forceful. A relentless groan escaped him as he slammed into her harder, the friction of her wet core against his shaft nearly driving him insane. His grip on the belt tightened, and he pulled her hands back even further, making her body arch even more. The sound of leather against her skin echoed through the room, the scent of her arousal mingling with the smell of the clean room.

She was close, so close, but Levi stopped suddenly, and she wanted to scream out in frustration, to put an end to this sweet torture. Her knees hurt, her arms hurt, her pussy throbbed with need and abuse when he pulled out of her. No time to think as his pale, sweaty hand appeared from the top, grabbing the pillow and then turning her around forcefully from her shoulder.

“I want to see that fucking pretty face of yours while I fuck you,” Despite the darkness of the night, the room felt like it lighted up for her now with her face finally on display. Pillow under her hips, both legs over his shoulders, and without a minute to spare, he thrust all the way in.

“AH!” her moan echoed in the room as the angle felt too much, her toes curled impossibly, and her legs shook. “Ah- Ah- MHA! Captain-“ Top of her body twisted as her head rolled to the side, tears running down her cheeks, and the restless attention of him on her face was humbling.

“SHHH, quiet, little shit ah-“ He whispered. Sweat dripped from his forehead and from the tips of his dark locks, but he ignored it. “You want the entire fucking scouts to hear you?”

The bed creaked loudly, their bodies merging into one, like an animalistic dance. He gripped her legs more tightly, pushing in and out, setting up a pace that seemed to put both of them into a trance. Few messy soppy kisses to her legs as he had them within reach. Y/N bit her bottom lip trying to suppress her moans, leaving restless whimpers and cries of pleasure “Ah ah ah- hmmm,”. She tried but couldn't contain the sounds, but his dick was hitting her cervix as if that was his glorious duty; he folded her as if squeezing her legs against her bouncing tits was somehow helping her not to feel how his dick filled each corner of her. No, it did not help.

“Stop, stop, stop, almost, fuck-” she begged, pressing her legs against his head and trying to control her body from shaking.

Levi laughed roughly, a sound filled with victory and lust. “Want more? Want me to ruin you completely?”

“AH! YES-!” a loud moan as her back arched, head thrown backwards, and eyelids flickering of how good it felt. Nothing that felt like this, as someone pushed her down on the bed, slamming his cock into her, should be healthy, she concluded. “Quiet,” Levi warned, his voice hoarse. He loved how she clenched around his cock, how her pussy milked him with her orgasm. Frowning deeply as the feeling of her clamping down on his dick was too much to handle, a soft, quiet little moan left his gritted teeth. His abs contorted and his white knuckle grip on the sheets made his arm veins pop up.

“Please, Captain, Ah!” Why bother, the sound of the bed should be enough of a clue for the rest. And what if someone thought she was Captain Levi’s slut? What if she opened her legs wide and steady for him to fuck her restlessly? Who cared? Not her, definitely not her, as the only remaining feeling aside from the scorching heat of the pleasure waves around her body was the tingling sensation of her numbed arms and feet.

“Shut the fuck up,” he insisted, looking down at her. His hand around her neck, two fingers pushed down her parted lips. “I fucking told you to keep quiet.”

“NHG!” She choked on them as Levi kept them there while he lost his rhythm, thrusting into her restlessly and messily.

Her eyes watered up, staring into his as she struggled to breathe. The sweaty, panting man fucking her hard and fast, with an unapologetic expression on his face. She attempted to shake her head, but he wouldn't let her go.

"Shhh," he muttered, panting mouth as sweat ran down his face. "Just let me finish this."

Each thrust seemed to drive him closer to the edge. The friction between his dick and her pussy grew more intense, sending waves of pleasure through him. He couldn't care less about being quiet anymore - he just wanted to come, and he wanted her to see him do it.

"You're gonna cum with me," Levi growled, his voice ragged. "Look at me."

Her eyes locked onto his, filled with a mixture of fear and desire. Levi's eyes bore into hers, making her shiver with each thrust. She let out a soft whimper, unable to deny him anything anymore. The pleasure was too overwhelming to resist.

"That's right," he praised, his grip on her throat tightening slightly. "Cum with me, you little slut." His thrusts grew more desperate, each one driving him closer to the edge. He needed to come, needed to release the tension building up inside him, and she was his outlet. Her pussy clenched around him, milking his cock with every twitch, and he couldn't hold back any longer. Tears ran down her eyes into her ears as so did the saliva around his digits drool down her chin, pleading eyes looking into his begging for him to put this to an end.

“MHM-Hmp,” soft humming whimpers that were wordless pleadings of him letting her finally cum.

"You want it?" Levi snarled, thrusting into her harder. "Fuck, you're so damn tight. You love this, don't you?"

Levi couldn't resist anymore, the sight of her tear-filled eyes and pleading look pushed him over the edge. He growled, his thrusts becoming more forceful as he felt his orgasm approaching. He grinned down at her, his grip on her throat tightening slightly. “Fuck- Aren’t you pretty?” he murmured against her face, almost smiling out of satisfaction.

Both panting in the microspace of the closeness of their faces, breathing each other's ragged puffs of air. Their noses thrusting into each other sometimes as he slammed into her the final times, feeling the wave of pleasure wash over him. Frowned closed eyes, as mewled moans mixed together. Her pussy gripped him tightly, milking him like a vice, and he knew she was cumming too. His eyes met hers, her face a mask of pleasure and pain, and he couldn't help but smirk.

"Not bad," he breathed out, collapsing on top of her. He tried to catch his breath once, twice before he rolled to his side. Finally withdrawing from her slowly and laying flat on his bed next to her. One knee up, arm over his chest, and the other behind his head as a makeshift pillow as his lost eyes glued to the ceiling.

The room was silent except for their heavy breaths, the sweat dripping off their bodies mixing together. His chest raised up and down still erratic as both of them slowly blinked. Y/N lay there, panting heavily, her hands still bound behind her back. She could feel the sweat from Levi's body on her, where their skin touched. Her legs were shaking, and her pussy was still throbbing from the intense experience they just had. Her eyes met his, and she couldn't help but smile weakly.

His body twitched from time to time from the stimulation; her body felt like jelly. Completely boneless. She closed her eyes, trying to catch her breath. But as the cold began to creep in, she contorted uneasily and cleared her throat timidly. “Could you…ehm-“

Levi didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stared at the ceiling, still catching his breath. After a few moments, as he came out of his lethargic state, he finally spoke. “Oh yeah.” His fingers began to undo the knot around her wrists. “There.” Y/N rubbed her hands, feeling the blood returning to them. Her eyes focused on the deep red lines and bruises around them, and she grimaced uneasily. Her heart still pounded in her chest, and she couldn't help but glance at Levi. He shifted, sitting up and rolling off the used condom before tossing it into the bin close to the nightstand.

He stood up slightly to pick something up from his nightstand and also to push the blanket closer that was at the bottom of the bed. She tugged a bit from the sheets to cover her body as the moment slightly washed away, and nudity felt obscene and unnecessary. Levi let the blanket crumple around his hips as he turned on a cigarette.

"You good?" Levi asked, taking a puff from it and leaving the cage back on the nightstand. He looked at her, examining her bruised hands and the red marks from the ropes. A small frown appeared on his face, but he quickly hid it.

Y/N nodded, biting her lip. The marks on her wrists stung, but she didn't want to complain. She slowly sat up, trying to regulate her breathing. The room was still filled with a mix of their sweat and the scent of their passion. Her eyes caught on his lips, more precisely the cigarette. They were rather new now that they discovered the world outside the walls.

Levi looked back at her, at her silence, and casually took a last puff from it before placing it in her lips. “There, have it,” he offered. “You know how it works, right?”

She placed both fingers around it and smoked patiently as she hummed and nodded in approval. Somehow, that made him scoff entertained. “Of course you do, MPs always get used to luxuries rather quickly.”

As the smoke left her lips, she returned it. Y/N hesitated, still rubbing her wrists. She couldn't help but wonder if she should be honest. "Ehm—" she pondered around how to approach the topic, her voice shaky. "Was that… good enough? For the promotion?”

Levi glanced at her from the corner of his eye as she smoked the cigarette. The smoke swirled around them, marking the end of their intimate moment. He took the cigarette back and flicked the ash away, taking another drag.

"Good enough?" he repeated, a smirk forming on his lips. "Was it?"

She grew nervous as he asked back, not sure what to reply. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, glancing up at him. "I gave you what you wanted?" She asked, her voice soft but curious. She couldn't help but feel a bit vulnerable, lying there with him after their intimate encounter.

He chuckled softly, his gaze returning to the ceiling.

Levi sighed, extinguishing the cigarette in an ashtray. He leaned back against the headboard, crossing his arms. “You want advice for next time?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Let the other person make an offer first, girly. I asked for your support at the camp so I had an excuse to give you a recommendation; I’ve already heard about your struggle from one of your friends. I had the stupid letter written before you even set foot inside this building."

He paused for a moment, turning his head to look at her. The smirk never left his face.

"But since you offered yourself, I wasn’t going to say no.”

Y/N's face flushed red, feeling embarrassed and a bit betrayed. She bit her lip as she looked at Levi, trying to process what he had just said. Then she scoffed offended, pushing him by the shoulder a bit playfully but also with anger.

"So it was all for nothing," she exclaimed, disappointment evident in her voice and obviously irritated. Holding the crumpled sheets against her chest, “You’re an asshole!”

Her eyes closed in reflex as she noticed his hand moving closer to her face, wrinkling her nose and pushing backward in self-defense. But Levi’s index fingers only softly pushed her frown playfully, and he said, “And you’re too naïve for being an MP,” Levi snorted, rolling his eyes.

Levi watched her move, a small smile on his lips. He slid his legs off the bed, sitting on the edge; his body still feeling sore. To her surprise, he grabbed the blanket and threw it over her head playfully.

"You shouldn't have done that," Y/N muttered, her cheeks still flushed. She took the blanket off her head, which only made her hair even more tangled, glaring at him. "I thought you actually meant it."

Levi smirked, standing up and pulling on his pants. "You really thought I'd turn down an offer like that?" he asked, clearly amused. He reached for his shirt, still smirking at her.

"Get some sleep, I don’t use the bed anyways," he said, zipping up his pants. "But don’t get used to, this isn’t a hotel."

He crossed the door of his bedroom and closed it behind him as she mocked his reply and cursed under her breath.

Walking down the corridors, everybody running to be somewhere else. That’s what the capital is like, always a new pub to discover, always a better party to attend than the previous weekend. Hot and dirty like the vicious air of the underground that laid underneath their boots. Her friends made plans as they called out for the week, writing their names and working hours down on the cards at the front desk. Yellow paper flowed under the conflicted air of the reception office, names written down with different calligraphies and a restless pen swinging as it hung from a cord to the forms.

‘Volunteers,’ it read at the top. The last row was empty, but it was quickly filled out.

‘Squad leader: Y/N L/N’

One of her friends who was eagerly talking to the rest turned around and frowned, confused. “Why are you wasting your weekend volunteering for the Scouts,” she asked, frowning in disgust, “You’re already a squad leader, Y/N, don’t sell yourself short.”

Her fingers gracefully placed the pen back on the table as a smile raised on her features. Adjusting her purse around her shoulders, she casually said, “You know, it’s important to remain humble.”

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @i-literally-cant-with-this @angelofthorr @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @kikarouflames @levisecretgfblog @searriously Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[cozage]

Please, please, PLEASE MAKE A FOLLOW-UP ON LAW ON THE DARE CHALLENGE

😭😭😭😭😭

A/N: Did someone order Law x reader with an extra slow burn??? Oh my sweet sweet anon I love you and everyone else who requested this. This was such a pleasure to write. I truly hope I did it justice and made up for not having a section for him earlier. For those who are new here, this is part two for an earlier headcanon list I did. Check that out first for more context.

Characters: GN! reader x Law

Cw: NSFW. MINORS - DNI. I promise I’ll have so much other content for you to consume, please respect me and my work and keep scrolling. If I catch a minor on my NSFW posts, I will block you (and then you don't get to see any of my writing! So just skip this one.)

Total word count: 4.2k

tag list: @error404-tryagain @jadedrrose @patchofblue @nikos-a-clown @evilunicorns4minions @reader101 @gaynerdnotkid @augustanna @uchihabbynic

Push and Pull

“Y/N-ya, what the hell was that?” You could hear the frustration in his voice follow after you as you dashed out of the room and retreated down the hallway. The game was finally over. The moment Shachi released you from your place on Law’s lap you had made a beeline for your room. 

“N-Nothing!” You keep moving, feeling heat rise to your face at the thought of your earlier flirtation attempt. Shachi may have been the one to force you to do it, but it would have been a lot better if you hadn’t fumbled it so badly. 

Law quickly caught up to you and grabbed your wrist, pulling you back from your escape. He spins you around to face him, and he towers over you. His face was contorted with such anger that you instinctively shrank away from him.

“Did Shachi put you up to that?” His face had softened some and you could tell he was attempting to control his voice, but his anger was apparent. You hesitated, which was enough of an answer for him. You could feel his grip tighten on your wrist, and you resist the urge not to squirm away from him again. You want to be far away from him and his rage, which now appeared to be centered on your crew mates. You could hear their laughs echoing from the common room, and Law glared in their direction.  

“I’m sorry you had to do that,” he says, still facing the common area. You start to respond, wanting to let Law know that it wasn’t a big deal, but he’s already dropped your wrist and is striding back to the common room. A dark aura is rolling off him as he heads towards the crew, and you turn on your heels and bolt to your room, thankful for an escape.

--

You make yourself scarce over the next few days, and the captain seems to be doing the same. You stay locked in your room, and he stays locked in his office. The only time you interact with Law is over meals, and you catch yourself glancing over at him several times throughout those moments. A few times you glance over to catch his golden eyes staring back at you, and you both quickly look away, praying nobody else caught you all. 

You and your captain have been doing this strange dance of avoiding each other and catching stolen looks for three days before the crew decided to step in. 

--

At lunch on the third day, Ikkaku hunts you down to pull you into your room. “You should wear something super nice tonight!” She’s already sifting through the clothes in your drawer.

“What? Why?” You start picking up the clothes that Ikakku has tossed on the floor, but she’s oblivious to your efforts, which irritates you. “Do you mind not making such a mess?”

She ignores your request, still shifting through your belongings and mumbling to herself. “Not a lot to work with here but I’m sure we can find something.”

“Hey-stop that! Ikakku, what is this all about anyway?” You’re throwing your clothes back into the dresser as fast as she’s throwing them out, frustration growing with every shirt you have to refold.

Ikkaku doesn’t offer much explanation. “It’s for the captain.”

You stand there staring at her, dumbfounded, until a stray shirt is thrown at your face. “What’s for the captain?” You finally ask.

Ikakku moves onto the next drawer and keeps digging through your clothes, unfazed by your question. “You gotta dress to impress, sweetheart!”

“Why would I do that?” Your voice comes out choked, and you know your secret has been found out. You still can’t find the will to move, even though your friend is continuing to demolish your room.

Finally, your words catch up to Ikakku, and she turns to face you. She stares at you a long while, as if she’s trying to decide if you’re even worth explaining her motives to. After a few long seconds, Ikakku laughs. “Don’t try to deny it, dear. I know you’re head over heels for him.”

Your mouth falls open in shock. She says it with such confidence that you know there’s no point in denying it. Ikakku always had a sixth sense for these things. “How long have you known?”

“I’ve had my suspicions for a little while, but you made it pretty obvious during game night. At this point everyone must know.” There’s something extra in her voice that sends you over the edge. She said her words so condescendingly, as if she pitied you and your circumstances.

“Get out! Get out now!” You shoved Ikakku out the door and slammed it behind her, refusing to come out until the dinner call. You feel so humiliated, though you’re not sure why. Your cheeks still turn pink at the thought of that night, which was the last time you had talked to your captain in three days. It felt like Shachi and Ikakku had ruined your entire relationship with the captain because of that stupid dare, and now they were trying to meddle in your life even more.

--

You were late to dinner because of Penguin. He was trying to get you to put a nicer outfit on, which led to a big fight and left you in a sour mood. By the time the two of you got there, only two seats remained. One next to Shachi, which was obviously meant for Penguin, and one next to the captain, which was obviously meant for you.

Everyone’s eyes followed you as you took your place next to Law, but nobody said anything. You could see Ikakku and Shachi silently questioning Penguin over your outfit choice, but he simply rolled his eyes and waved it off. A few members exchanged glances, and you could feel that someone was waiting for something to happen.

“Sorry for being late to dinner, everyone.” You finally say, trying to sound genuine.

“Shall we eat, then?” Law spoke to the crew, ignoring you and your apology, and you felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

You didn’t have much of an appetite, and you weren’t in the mood to talk to the man who you had spent the past few days avoiding, so you occupied your time by pushing your food around on your plate. You tried to take a few bites every now and then, but you weren’t making much of a dent on your food.

“Y/N-ya.” The voice made you freeze. It was the first time your captain had spoken to you since game night. Your eyes shifted over to your captain, but when you made eye contact with him, they darted back to the peas on your plate.

“Are you feeling okay?” There was a calculated levelness in his voice. You go the sense he was asking as a doctor, not as a captain or a friend. 

“I’m fine.”

You could see his eye twitch in irritation, but his voice remained calm. “If you would like something else to eat-”

“I don’t.” You interrupt, not giving him the chance to finish his sentence. The other conversations at the table start to die down, and you’ve become painfully aware of everyone’s eyes on you now.

“Captainnnn,” Shachi called to the man next to you. “How about you give Y/N some of your food?”

You’re not sure why, but something snaps inside of you. He’s using that same condescending tone that Ikakku used with you earlier, and the anger that has built inside you over the past three days finally explodes.

“How about you go straight to hell, Shachi?” You say, slamming your fork down onto the table. You see everyone’s mouths fall open in shock, including your captain’s, but you don’t care anymore. You storm out of the room and back to your cabin, furious with the position you’ve allowed yourself to be put into because you have feelings for some guy. You lock your door to avoid unwanted visitors, but nobody tries to come talk to you anyway.

--

“It’s not my fault that they want to rip off each other’s clothes!” You freeze as you hear Shachi’s voice call out in frustration from the kitchen down the hall. You hadn’t seen them-or anyone- since dinner last night, and you were hoping to avoid everyone while you ventured to the kitchen for lunch today. You had even waited until far after the normal lunchtime to lower your chances of running into someone, but it seems you had waiting too long and now you had stumbled upon the people who were cooking dinner tonight.

“Hush!” A feminine voice scolds at the man in a low hiss. Ikkaku. “Someone is going to hear you.”

“I don’t care if they do hear me!” Shachi shoots back. “Everyone on this damn ship can see it except them! It’s been painfully obvious since game night! The way they avoid each other now, the glances over dinner, and now all this hostility!?! I knew the captain would be pissed at us, but  now…”

He trails off, and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks when you realize it is you they are talking about. You stay frozen in the hallway, praying that nobody comes around the corner and catches you eavesdropping.

“Listen,” Shachi continues, now in a full-blown rant. “Captain told me that he liked Y/N! And Y/N told you the same thing, right? What were they expecting us to do? Of course we’re going to meddle in that! We’re the most meddlesome people on the ship! They wanted us to intervene! And we did and now they’re avoiding each other like they have some kind of plague and I’m so tired of it!” He pauses for a beat. “We should just tell them.”

Your hand flies up to your mouth to stifle a horrified gasp and Ikkaku speaks in a deadly serious tone. “We are not doing that, Shachi. Neither of them would ever forgive us.”

“I know, I know.” Shachi seems to have calmed down a bit. “It’s just frustrating to watch. And now they’re both upset with us. I just want them to be happy.”

“As do I. Come on, let’s make dinner,” Ikkaku suggests, trying to change the subject. “We’ll figure out a way to make them forgive us and each other. Until then, we’ll just count their awkward glances.”

“The record is eleven, you know. Eleven times they made eye contact and then quickly glanced away from each other. Just at one dinner!”

So they had noticed the looks you and Law had been sharing. In fact, the more they talk, it sounds like they had been actively watching the two of you. It seems like it was a sort of game to them. They were able to recall most of the ones that had happened over the previous nights, chatting quietly and laughing at the exceptionally embarrassing ones.

There was no way you could face them after learning this. There was no way you could face anyone on the ship. You wanted to go hide in your room forever. You retreat back down the hallway the way you came and quickly rounded the corner to return to your room.

You crashed into someone as you turned the corner, too in a hurry to notice them until it was too late. You’re about to let out a small squeal of surprise when a hand covers your mouth tightly. Panic sets in for a moment, thinking someone may have stowed away on the ship, but when you see equally wide golden eyes staring down at you, you feel a twinge of relief.

A different kind of panic sets in, and your heartbeat starts to pick up. Suddenly, you’re painfully aware of how close you are to your captain; how his tattooed fingers are still gripping around your face, holding your mouth shut.

He must realize it too, because his face begins to tint with pink, and he releases you from his grasp. He holds a finger up to his lips and looks around the corner to see if anyone is watching, but Shachi and Ikkaku are still chatting in the kitchen, and nobody else is in the hallway. He takes your wrist and silently leads you away from the kitchen in the direction of his office.

You can feel your heart rate accelerating in your chest with every step closer to the captain’s quarters. Based on his reaction, you weren’t the only one who had heard Shachi’s and Ikkaku’s conversation in the kitchen. A part of you wanted to run, to find a way to put as much distance between you and your captain as you could on this small ship. But you let him lead you down the halls, too afraid to say or do anything else but follow him.

He didn’t look back at you the entire time you walked through the halls. His pace was fast, and at times you struggled to keep up. He quickly opened the door to his office and yanked you inside, looking back in the hallway once more to make sure you weren’t followed before closing it and locking the deadbolt firmly.

“What are you-” You had begun to question him, but quickly lost your voice when he started towards you with such intensity.

“Shachi and Ikakku, were they telling the truth?” His voice is harsh and rough when he speaks to you. You could hear the disbelief in his words, and you knew for a fact that he had heard them in the kitchen. He was towering over you with an intense gaze, and you were doing your best not to cower away from him like before.

“What-”

“A yes or no will do.” He takes a step towards you, and you instinctively step backwards, pressing your back against a random bookcase behind you. He had you cornered now, and your stomach ties into a knot as you look up at him. You feel so small, trapped here in his office with him. There’s a hungry look in his eyes, like a predator when they’ve found their next meal. He’s a little terrifying, yet you can’t bring yourself to look away from him.

“Y/N.” He prompts again. He didn’t add the normal nickname to it, which was a solidified sign that he was pissed. You didn’t normally find your captain intimidating, but since game night he made your hair stand on edge. You’re too embarrassed to admit your feelings for him, not while staring straight in the eyes like this. You finally break away from his gaze and stare at the floor, too ashamed to answer.

But your captain wants your full attention, and Law’s index finger tucks under your chin and guides your face back up to meet him, beckoning you to look him in the eyes again. You resist at first, but eventually give in, locking back into his honey irises.

He leans down, only centimeters from your face. He’s so close that you can feel his breath on your lips as he exhales. His breath is hitched and shallow, warm as it brushes against your skin.

Your knees feel weak with him so close to you, and think they might give out any second. The electricity between the two of you is palpable, and you wonder if this is what it means to be alive. You are suspended in this moment only with him, completely isolated from the outside world and everyone in it.

“Was it the truth?” He whispers the question softly this time, and now you can sense a trace of hope laced into his words. You open your mouth to respond, but your words fail you. He looks down at your lips, waiting, and you do the only thing you can. You nod.

That’s all he needs. His lips crash into yours with such force that you have to take a step back to steady yourself, but you stumble against the bookcase. Law’s free hand wraps tightly around you to help you stay balanced, and he pushes you back against the bookcase for more support. Inked fingers trace your jawline and cup your cheek, pulling you closer to him while he leans further into you. There’s been far too much distance between the two of you recently, and he needs to make up for lost time.

You wrap your arms around his body, digging your fingernails into the back of his shirt as you pull him against you, showing him how much you want this-how much you need this. His tongue flicked across your lips and a soft moan escaped your mouth as your lips parted, granting him access to you. He dives in without hesitation, eager for his first taste of you.

His hands trailed down your back, sending shivers throughout your entire body. He reached your waist, and you could feel him hesitate for a moment, unsure how much further to proceed. You press against him harder, encouraging him further, and your hands move upwards, wrapping around his neck to pull him into you more. Your fingers twisted around his midnight locks, tugging at them gently.

His lips finally release from your mouth, and you gasp for air while you have a second to breathe. Both of his hands slip under your ass and he lifts you up, your back still against the shelf for assistance. Your legs wrap around his body, pulling him into you.

He kissed your jawline, and then slowly made his way down to your neck. The sensation of his tongue swirling and his lips sucking on your sensitive skin made you pull at his hair harder, shoving his mouth further into your nape. You had to bite your lips to stifle a moan, and he gave a dark chuckle against your skin.

“Come on now,” he teased, nipping at your neck a few times. “Moan for me, y/n-ya”

You didn’t immediately oblige, and he was quickly growing impatient. His lips continued to suck at your skin with such ferocity that you were sure his marks of passion would be displayed there later. He gripped your ass tighter and pushed his groin into the opening between your legs. You could feel his hardened cock through his jeans grinding against you, and you couldn’t hold your words in any longer.

“Fuck, Captain!” You had tried to keep quiet, but the moan rang out loudly against the silent room.  Either Law didn’t care about the level of your voice, or he liked it. Judging by the way he thrust into you again, you would guess the latter. Your fingers dug deeper into his locks, pure ecstasy running through your veins now. You wanted to ride this high all the way to the end with your captain, and you continued to call out his name every time his bulge rubbed against you in the perfect way.

Law abandoned your neck to return back to your lips again, muffling your moans with his mouth. He continued to grip your ass tightly and push into you, and you could hear books falling to the ground behind you as his pace began to pick up.

“Errr, Captain?” The voice came from the other side of the door, distorted and concerned. In shock, Law pulled away from you and your hand flew to your mouth in horror, both of you frozen in place.

The door jiggled, and your eyes widened at its movement. Thankfully it stayed shut, locked earlier by the captain.

Law’s eyes stayed connected with yours. He kept you against him, refusing to put you down. “What is it, Bepo?”

“Is everything okay, Captain? I was coming to tell you dinner is ready, and I heard some commotion as I-“

Law cut him off before he let Bepo’s rambling go on too long. “Everything is fine, Bepo. Thank you. We will be at dinner soon.”

Your eyes widen at him, and he realizes his mistake too late.

“We?”

Law curses under his breath and you smile at his uncharacteristic slip up. You can only thank the stars that it’s Bepo summoning him and not anyone else on the crew.

“I’ll see you at dinner, Bepo.” Law corrects, and you can hear Bepo’s feet padding away down the hall without further commentary.

You start to unwrap your legs from around his waist, but he grips you tighter, refusing to release you just yet.

You giggle at him and place a quick kiss on his nose, and in shock, his arms loosen from around you. He releases you, and you hop down happily. All the tension between you two has finally broken, and the air feels lighter now

You do a quick check in the mirror nearby, and attempt to fix the things you can control. You use your fingers to comb through your hair quickly and smooth your shirt, trying your best to make yourself look presentable. Unfortunately, there’s nothing you can do about the welts that are already forming on your neck other than pull up your shirt collar and hope for the best.

“Go ahead, I’m going to clean up and then I’ll be there.” Law bends down to pick up his hat and places it back on his head. It must’ve fallen off at some point, though you’re not sure when. He waves you on, bending back down to begin collecting the books you’ve scattered across the floor.

You start to think that you’ve done something wrong or he’s ashamed to be seen with you, and you feel that familiar pit forming in your stomach.

“Save me a seat,” he calls to you as you exit the room, and your fear instantly melts away.

You walk into the kitchen to find that most people have already congregated around the table. A few people look over to see you come in, and your eyes find Shachi. You smile at him politely, trying to start the process of making up for your outburst yesterday. His eyes glance down to your neck, and you watch as his eyes grow wide. He mutters something to Ikakku and Penguin, and you look away before you become more embarrassed.

You take a seat, and a few minutes later Law walks in and sits next to you. He’s sitting extremely close to you, his leg pressed against yours. You try to avoid the looks Shachi is sharing with the rest of the crew.

Dinner starts out casual, everyone attempting to ignore the elephant in the room. You were chatty with your crew mates, and everyone began to relax more. It finally felt like the crew dynamic was returning to normal again.

Halfway through dinner, you feel a hand rest on the top of your thigh, and you resist the urge to look over at your captain. You can feel his thumb lazily rubbing in circles, and electricity starts through your veins again.

After a few moments his fingers reach down, gripping your inner thigh and giving it a squeeze. You have to bite down on your lip to avoid showing any outward signs of his advancements. You snap your legs shut and attempt to continue your conversation with Clione, ignoring the hint of a smirk dancing across Law’s face.

He pushed further into your inner thigh, massaging it slowly. Continuing his taunt, he spreads his fingers closer to your core and flexes his fingers against you. You shift away from him, and he gripped your thigh harder to prevent you from completely leaving his grasp.

He leans close to you, whispering so only you can hear him. His voice is low and thick with desire. “Do you want to finish what we started?”

Your cheeks burn as he releases your thigh and gets up from the table, not waiting for your response. You wait a few moments before deciding to follow him.

“Thank you, Shachi.” You look at him and pause, and you can feel a sense of understanding pass between you two. “For the meal.” You add in, for sake of appearance.

You get up and walk out of the room, and Law is waiting for you outside. He grabs your hand and leads you back towards his office once again. You’re uncertain of what lies ahead, but it’s better than where you’ve been.

“Thank FUCK!” You hear Shachi scream from the kitchen, and the crew joins in with a chorus of laughter. You found yourself agreeing with them, grinning to yourself as the captain pulls you along, hand laced in yours.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Someone New 7

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’ve had a crush on your best friend for years, but you’re slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

Note: I am queuing this so who knows if Im still suffering.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The morning is going splendid. You spilled your coffee and the tea you packed in a thermos, you left on your counter. The realisation doesn’t hit you until you pull up to the site. You huff and hang your head, gripping the steering wheel as you brace yourself for your caffeine withdrawal. 

At least it’s dry. Mostly. As Thor forecast, the rain didn’t come until the night. The steady patter kept you awake, along with that lingering displacement that never quite leaves you. Fatigue is another constant. Your new normal; sleepless nights and sleepy days. 

You get out and set to work. It’s all you can do. It’s all you’ve been doing. Just keep going. It doesn’t matter how, just get it done, get through the day. 

You yawn at your task, brushing digging, oh so gently wiggling the little form. It’s almost out. Almost free. In your eagerness for some progress, you get careless. Your hand slips and the spearhead grazes our palm. Is isn’t until the stinging splits your skin that you realise it’s a slash. 

Damn it, you didn’t put your damned gloves on. 

Great, with the luck you’re having, you’ve just contracted some ancient virus. You hiss and grip your wrist. Your adrenaline triggers your heart. You take a few breaths to stay calm as you watch the blood bead to the surface. 

You curse and stagger to your feet. You grab the rag from your back pocket and clutch it in your injured hand. You grip it tight as you cross the site, careful not to tread to heavily, and you angle the fencing to sidle between two panels.  

You clumsily pull open the car door and reach under the seat. You always keep an emergency with you. It’s a rule of thumb for your sort of work. You never know what might happen. Bug spray, sunscreen, bandages, swabs, a hole trove of supplies. 

You shake as the pain intensifies, thrumming through your palm. You come out and rest the plastic tote on the hood and sift through with your single hand. This is going to be awkward as hell. While you enjoy your solitary, it can sometimes be unsettling. What if something worse happened? 

“Ruff, ruff, rrrrruffffff,” the growlish yet high-pitched barking comes from up the mountain road. 

You pause as he peek under the rag and peer up as gravel mulches. Another visit? Your work is so boring, you wouldn’t expect him again. Thor appears as Thunder hops before him, spastic as she sniffs the ground in circles. He smiles and waves but you can only manage a grimace before you look back to your wound. 

“Morning,” he booms as he scoops up the small dog and nears the other side of the car, “it’ll be a sunny one.” 

“You sure?” You look up at the greyish blue skies, than at him. Hm, the hue of above is rather similar to his eyes.  

“I know so,” he assures you and tilts his head curiously, “why are you so grim?” 

You show him your hand as you lift the cloth from it. He lets out a sympathetic hum and sets Thunder on the ground. She runs over to inspect the fence as he rounds the hood towards you. As he gets closer, his size is even more obvious. He’s well-built, you can see it even at a distance, but up close and personal, he’s almost inhuman in stature. 

“Yikes,” he offers his hand, “may I?” 

“Really, it’s not—I can handle it.” 

“I’m certain you can. Only the bravest woman would come to these grey lands and sit alone in the dirt,” he jokes. “Please, it’ll be easier with two hands.” 

You relent, a tinge of embarrassment hot in your cheeks, and peel the rag away. You hold your hand out to him and he brings one of his large ones to cradle it. Wow. He’s massive. The difference in your hands is startling. 

“Nasty cut,” he muses as he reaches over for the swabs you’ve piled out on the metal, “but it shouldn’t need more than a snug wrap.” 

“Thanks,” you look away, eyeing the dirt as his proximity makes you squirm.  

You can’t remember the last time a man touched you, especially a handsome one. Well, aside from Sam and Bucky but those were just hugs and usually ended in them arguing anyway. You’ve never been the most popular girl in the world and those men you managed to reel in didn’t stay on the hook very long. You never really tried to keep them. You were always too distracted. 

You wince as he wipes the cut with the alcoholic cloth. He softens his touch but holds your hand firm from beneath. He offers a rumbling apology as he focuses on tending to you. His intent is new to you. The way he looks at your palm holds more than any look you’ve ever gotten from a man. Or anyone. 

He crumples up the used wipe and takes another. He’s thorough. You feel a shiver roll through you despite the warmth in the air. He trades the wipe for the roll of gauze and wraps the strip around your hand, hooking over your thumb and looping your wrist. He uses the little metal clip to pin it then turns your hand over, brushing his own over it as he grins. 

“Good as new,” he announces, “though I recommend you not use it too much. And perhaps a pair of gloves.” 

“Yeah, I forgot. Long day.” 

“It’s nine in the morning?” He chuckles. 

“Yep,” you agree dryly. 

“Hopefully it gets better,” he says. 

“Yeah, maybe,” you agree dully and toss the things back in the tote.  

He picks it up before you can and keeps it from your reach, “like I said, you should take it easy.” 

“Well, there’s work to be done,” you say as he moves to the open door and slides the tote inside. “What are you doing back here?” 

“Ah, I let the queen lead the way,” he stands straight and closes the car door. He looks past you and your head perks up. Thunder is very quiet. “As ever, she does not tread with caution.” 

You turn to find the chihuahua inside the fence. You jump in place and sprint over, clattering between the panels as you call after her. “No, no, sweetie, be careful!” 

You chase her around where you were digging as you sense Thor watching from without. Great! You hope she didn’t pee anywhere. 

A sharp whistle pierces the air and Thunder stops. She sits in place, still wiggling, but doesn’t move. You peek back at Thor and he nods. You near her and pick her up. 

“Sorry about her, she is a free spirit,” he tuts as you cross back to him. “I will be certain she does not stray again. My apologies.” 

You’re taken aback by his sincerity. You try to remember the last time someone apologised to you and sounded like they meant it. Hell, when’s the last time you even got an apology. You dip out between the grating and hold out the dog. 

“I would hate to get in your way any more than we already have,” he hugs her with one arm and spreads his other hand over his chest, “we will be on our way. I do hope the sunshine brings some brightness to your day.” 

“Um, thanks,” you shift on your feet and hide your twiddling fingers. “You too.” 

“I’ve already found my sunlight,” he grins even wider and blinks, “now, Thunder, let’s go make a storm somewhere else.” He twists on his heel and lumbers off, “perhaps mother might put up with you for a time.” 

You stand just outside the fence and watch him go. A lock of his golden hair hangs loosely form his bun, dangling down his back, wagging almost like the dog’s little tail. He bounds over the lumpy ground and disappears behind the rock face. You look down and smile. 

Not everything is so bad and you can see the amber ribbon limning the clouds. The sun will be there soon. Just like he promised. 

💟

Thor comes back again. 

It’s a week since you cut your hand. Like before, you can’t predict him. You don’t hear him approach as he’s alone. You only notice him as he clangs something on the fence and lets out an ‘oops’. You pop your head up and look over at him through squinting eyes. Your forehead hurts from the expression. 

You smooth out your face and stand, facing him. He wiggles a metal canister in his hand. The wind sweeps the strands around his square jaw as the sky pulses in shades of gray behind him. 

“Thought you might like some hot tea,” he holds up the thermos. 

“Oh, uh... you didn’t have to...” you look at the sky and its quivering blanket. You’ve been pondering packing up for the last hour. “Thanks.” 

“Not to worry, I was restless.” 

“And you always go walking through the mountains when you’re bored?” You wonder as you step around the markers in the dirt. 

“I live here, there isn’t very much else to do and it isn’t a good day for swimming.” 

“Swimming?” You nod and click your tongue. “Sounds like the life to me.” 

“Mm, it can be rather languid when there isn’t work to do,” he turns the thermos in his hands as he talks, “Have you tried cloudberry?” 

“Cloudberry? Never heard of it.” 

He pokes the thermos between the panels and you take it. He pushes the barrier back into place between you, hooking his fingers into the links. You feel the warmth through the copper-coloured metal. 

“You didn’t have to come all this way for tea,” you laugh. 

“I wanted to ask after your hand. See how it’s healing,” he says. 

“Oh, uh,” you open and close your gloved hand, “just a scab now. I’m all good.” 

He smiles and keeps himself from leaning to heavily as the fence dips towards you. He coughs and realigns his feet, brushing back the looses strands around his face with a flick. He pushes his shoulders back and drops his hand. 

“So uh, you should try the tea. I put together the herbs myself, steeped it...” he bounces on his heels, “I suppose it’s not that impressive but it is good. Antioxidants, anti-inflammatory.” 

“Wow, sounds like one of those superfoods,” you scoffs as you pull of your glove and tuck it into your work belt. You untwist the cap and steam wisps out. You smell the tea and blow over it. You look up and find him watching you. “You’re starting to make me nervous, what’s in it?” 

“Just tea,” he assures. “I can’t lie to you, though. It wasn’t my idea. My mother suggested it. She’s very interested to see what you’re digging up but I’m afraid she can’t do much at the moment.” 

“Oh, your mother? Is she sick?” 

“She is in perfect health aside from her dislocated knee. She went rock climbing and well, accidents happen, eh?” 

“Yeah, sure do,” you show him your cut. “But they get better.” 

A lull rises as you take a dainty sip. The tartness tweaks your cheeks and you scrunch up your nose. 

“You don’t like it?” 

“It’s... different but not bad,” you say. “So, your parents live up here too?” 

“Mm, yes. I’m afraid I’m occupying their attic at the moment. I sold my home in Oslo, it was much too... cold.” 

You can’t help but snort, “it’s Norway.” 

“Ah, so it is. I should be used to it,” he agrees. “And how are you faring here? Have you adjusted to these dour lands?” 

“Eh, I’m trying,” you put the lid back on and turn it until tight. “Thanks for the tea.” 

“My pleasure,” he assures you. “Seems lonely work.” 

“I don’t mind it,” you shrug and cross your arms, tucking the thermos beneath one arm. 

“Interesting though. Have you found very much?” 

“Ugh, a spearhead and some pieces of the shaft. A vase, cracked though. Some beads.” 

“Beads,” he echoes thoughtfully, “is this all confidential?” 

“Not really, you wanna see?” 

“Very much so,” he says. 

“Right, uh, let me just...” 

You go back to where you were sat and plant the thermos in the dirt. You scurry around, overly aware of his observation, and go to the pin of your catalogued items. You find the bone beads and brings the little dish of them over to the fence. You hold them up as he peers between the links. 

“They have runes,” he intones. 

“Yeah, I’ve got the meaning of all of them except, er...” you pull out the single bead made of jade, “this one.” 

He hums and considers it closely, leaning in. 

“Not a rune. That’s a family symbol.” 

“Oh?” 

“My family’s.” 

“Wow, uh,” you lower your chin, “that’s... I... kinda feel like a thief.” 

“Can’t have cared very much about it if it’s down there,” he remarks, “you know, my father has mapped out much of our genealogy. As much as he can. He might be able to assist with your research, if he can find the time. Bit of a hermit these days.” 

“Oh, uh maybe, I’d hate to bother,” you smile sheepishly, “erm...” you look around, “where’s Thunder? Awful quiet without her.” 

“She’s keeping mother company. I’ve told her not to be too much of an imp, can’t have her making it worse,” he shakes his head. “The two of them are both stubborn as the other.” 

You can’t help the twitch in your eye. All this talk of your family has you suddenly homesick. You fight not to crack and swallow tightly. 

“Anyway, thanks again for the tea.” 

“Your parents must miss you,” he says abruptly. 

“Erm, yeah, my mom calls now and then but she’s better as an empty nester. Dad’s got his head under a hood most days so...” 

“Friends? Boyfriend?” He wonders. 

You arch a brow. He’s not very subtle and yet his inquiry can’t be anything but innocent, right? You’re still strangers. He can’t be into you. Not someone who looks like him. How long did you pray for Steve to even see you like that? This man is definitely not going to. 

“Friends. Sam likes to pester me when I should be sleeping and Bucky... they’re funny.” You sniff and gaze past him. You won’t mention that giant elephant in your head. The one you think about at night. 

“Lots to miss back home, it sounds like,” he breaks the silence before it can settle. 

“Yeah, but not every day you get to travel.” 

“And to a beautiful land,” Thor declares, “I hope one day you’ll come out of the dirt and see more of it. You’ll be surprised what lays further up the mountain.” 

You smile and look down, “yeah, maybe one day.” 

“Until then,” he backs up on his heel, “I won’t distract you any further. Enjoy your tea.” He turns and strides away, pausing halfway as you linger by the fence, “the rain will be here around five so I would leave early, otherwise you’ll be driving through it.” 

“Right,” your chest deflates just a little. You don’t know what you wanted him to say but you’re disappointed, “thanks.” 

[fanficgirlysmhh]

Insta jealousy

Summary; When a flirty influencer's obsession with Kylian Mbappe gets out of hand, his girlfriend (y/n) uses a viral Instagram reel to teach him a lesson

Pairing; Kylian Mbappe x reader

Word count; 1281

Warnings: fluff, jealousy, relationship

The tension had been building for weeks. Every day seemed to bring another post or interview from Brenda, the influencer who couldn’t stop talking about how much she adored Kylian Mbappe. Yesterday, she’d taken it a step further, openly declaring in an interview that she loved Mbappe and wanted him to follow her on Instagram. To your dismay, Kylian had obliged. Now, they followed each other, and Brenda liked and commented cheekily on every one of his photos, completely ignoring the pictures of you two together.

You were trying to stay calm, but it was getting harder every day. Fans were tagging you in Brenda’s videos, filling Kylian’s Instagram with questions about your relationship status. You knew you needed to do something before you exploded.

One evening, as Kylian scrolled through his phone, chuckling at something Brenda had posted, you decided you couldn’t take it anymore. "Really, Kylian? You think this is funny?"

He looked up, surprised. "What are you talking about, y/n?"

You crossed your arms, the frustration bubbling up. "Brenda. She’s everywhere, always talking about you, and now you're encouraging her by liking and commenting on her posts."

Kylian sighed, putting his phone down. "It's just harmless fun. She’s just a fan."

"A fan who wants more than just an autograph," you shot back. "And it’s not just her. Her followers, your followers, they all keep tagging me, asking if we’ve broken up. It’s humiliating."

He frowned, the humor fading from his eyes. "I didn’t realize it was bothering you that much."

"Well, it is," you said, the tears of frustration welling up. "I feel like I'm competing for your attention."

Kylian stood, walking over to you. "You don’t have to compete for anything. You're the one I love."

"Then show it," you whispered, the fight draining out of you. "Because right now, it doesn’t feel that way."

Kylian pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you tightly. "I’m sorry, y/n. I’ll fix this. I didn’t mean to make you feel like this."

You nodded against his chest, but the seed of an idea had already taken root. You would make him see what it felt like. The next day, you called your friends and set your plan in motion.

That afternoon, you and your friends gathered in your living room, ready to film the Instagram reel. You’d found a filter that showed pictures of footballers, allowing you to rate their hotness on a scale of 1-10.

"Alright, ladies," you said, starting the recording. "Let’s rank the hottest footballers."

The first picture that popped up was Jude Bellingham. "Ooh, Jude is definitely a 9," one of your friends said, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Those eyes are killer," another friend agreed, giving Jude a high score.

Next up was Erling Haaland. "Haaland’s got that Viking look. Solid 8," you said, laughing as your friends nodded in agreement.

When a picture of Hugo Lloris appeared, your friends went wild. "a total 10!" one of them shouted.

You smiled, ready for the next photo. "And in second place," you said, glancing at the camera with a smirk as a picture of Marcus Rashford appeared, “is someone I’ve had the biggest crush on forever. He’s just... perfect. Definite 9.5.”

Your friends gasped and giggled. "Ooh, tell us more!" one of them teased.

"Maybe later," you said, winking at the camera.

That evening, Kylian came home, his face a mix of confusion and irritation. He held up his phone, the reel paused on the screen. "Y/n, what is this?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, though your heart was racing. "Just a fun reel with my friends. Why? Did it bother you?"

Kylian narrowed his eyes, a hint of jealousy flickering in them. "You didn’t even put me on the list, and you ranked guys who look like me. And what's this about a long-standing crush on Rashford?"

You crossed your arms, trying to maintain your cool. "Why does it bother you? You find it cute when Brenda fawns over you in every interview, and you even follow her back and like her pictures.“

Before Kylian could respond, his phone buzzed again. He glanced at it, his eyes widening slightly. "Rashford... he commented on your reel."

Your heart skipped a beat. "What did he say?"

Kylian read aloud, "‘Always knew I had a secret admirer! Thanks for the love, y/n.’” He looked up, his jealousy now unmistakable. “And he put a winking emoji.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. “Well, can you blame him?”

Kylian didn’t seem amused. Instead, he quickly typed a reply, "‘Back off, mate. She's taken.’”

You raised an eyebrow, amused by his protectiveness. "Feeling a bit jealous, are we?"

Kylian sighed, pulling you into a hug. "I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I thought it was just harmless fun. But seeing you talk about other guys... yeah, it made me jealous."

You looked up at him, your resolve wavering. "I just wanted you to see how it feels."

He sighed, pulling you closer. "I’m sorry. I didn't think about how it would affect you. You know you're the only one I care about, right?"

You melted into his embrace, feeling the tension ease away. "I know. I guess I just needed a little reminder."

Kylian kissed the top of your head, holding you tight. "I promise, I'll be more mindful. And for the record, you’re way hotter than any influencer out there."

You laughed, feeling the last of your jealousy slip away. "And you’re way hotter than Haaland."

Kylian chuckled, lifting your chin to look into your eyes. "Good to know. Now, how about we take a break from social media and spend some quality time together?"

You nodded, smiling up at him. "Sounds perfect."

As the evening wore on, you and Kylian put the drama behind you

---

The next morning, as you cuddled with Kylian on the couch, you had an idea. Grabbing your phone, you set it up to record another reel. Kylian watched curiously as you began.

"Hey everyone," you said with a grin. "After yesterday's fun, I realized I missed someone very important. So today, I'm going to rank the hottest footballer, and honestly, there's no competition. The number one spot goes to..."

You turned the camera to Kylian, who smiled sheepishly. "Kylian Mbappe," you said proudly. "No one even comes close."

Kylian laughed, pulling you into his lap. "You're just saying that because you have to."

You shook your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "No, I'm saying it because it's true."

As you posted the reel, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. Within minutes, comments started pouring in, and fans were tagging Brenda, mocking her obsession and praising your sweet relationship.

Kylian glanced at the screen and then back at you, his expression softening. "Thank you," he said quietly.

You smiled, leaning your head against his. "Always, Kylian. You're the only one for me."

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Who Taught You How to Love Like That? - Chapter Four

Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x female character (third person) Warnings: Sugar daddy/sugar baby dynamics. Smut. Oral (f receiving). Angst. Word count: ~3.5k

Series masterlist

Chapter summary: An understanding is reached and Aegon dishes family dirt at a BBQ.

Author's note: I don't have a tag list - please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

Her phone vibrates on the coffee table, the buzzing causing it to move dangerously close to the edge. Quick as a flash, Mysaria lunges forward from the sofa to catch it before it topples to the floor, smirking when she sees the name that’s flashing up on the screen.

“How many times is that today now?” She asks, gently tossing the phone to her as a missed call notification replaces the incoming call alert.

She shrugs, not averting her gaze from the TV screen as a rerun of Come Dine with Me, that neither of them are particularly paying attention to, plays to itself. “Dunno. He’ll get the hint eventually.”

It’s Sunday evening and she hasn’t spoken to Aemond since she woke up alone in his flat the previous morning, despite the fact he texts and calls her more times than she can count. She deletes the messages without reading them, and lets each of his calls go to voicemail. He’d made her feel cheap, used, put a price on her body, and she had no desire to ever speak to him again.

Mysaria sighs, flopping back against the sofa cushions. “Can I be a bitch for a second?” She asks, turning her head to face her. “You aren’t going to like it, but I think you need to hear it.”

She leans her head back, eyes flitting to meet her flatmate’s, already feeling a prickle of annoyance heat her skin, but decides to let her say her piece. “Go on then.”

“Why are you punishing him because you’ve caught feelings?”

Her annoyance bursts forth into anger as her brow furrows, her body language becoming squared and defensive. “I haven’t–”

“Yes, you have,” Mysaria interrupts. “I get that he did a shitty thing by leaving you high and dry, but he clearly feels bad or he wouldn’t keep trying to reach you. Give the guy a chance to explain himself, if you don’t like what he has to say then break things off.”

She scoffs in frustration, turning back towards the TV and rolling her eyes. “You are so bloody annoying!”

“Because I’m right,” Mysaria says smugly, leaning over to tap her on the nose. “You gonna call him back then?”

She chews her lip absentmindedly, turning her phone around in her hands. She supposes it wouldn’t hurt to reach out to him, if only to ask how to return the five grand he’d transferred to her.

The buzzer to the flat startles her out of her train of thought and Mysaria peels herself off of the sofa with a groan of “Finally! I’m bloody starving!”

Pizza first, then she’ll call him. She’s definitely not putting it off, she reasons with herself, she just doesn’t want her food to go cold.

“Erm…so it’s not pizza…” Mysaria says awkwardly as she re-enters the living room, a silver haired figure a good deal taller than her trailing behind her.

Dread gnaws at her stomach as she takes in the sight of Aemond, hair thrown back in a bun, dressed in a tight black henley and fitted black jeans, holding the largest bouquet of lilies and roses she’s ever seen before. Even when she’s angry with him he still manages to look absolutely breathtaking, and it irritates her.

“I’ll just…uh…” Mysaria makes a gesture towards her bedroom, and quickly makes herself scarce.

Lucky bitch.

“You’ve not been returning my calls,” Aemond says flatly.

“No…” She responds quietly, feeling the warmth of embarrassment spread through her, as she plucks nervously at the legs of her jogging bottoms. He’s never seen her not put together, and she loathes that she feels shame for her appearance, when she hasn’t done anything wrong. Him seeing her with messy hair, an oversized t-shirt and threadbare joggers makes her feel weak and vulnerable in his presence.

“Or replying to my texts.”

“I know.”

“Listen, if the other night wasn’t good, or I hurt you–”

“Why don’t you sit down?” She interjects, suddenly realising how absurd he looks, stood in the middle of the living room, dwarfing everything around him with his obscenely large bunch of flowers.

Aemond nods gratefully, taking the seat next to hear. “These are you for, by the way,” He tells her, handing her the flowers.

She hums a quiet thanks, immediately overwhelmed by the sweetness of their aroma, and places them on the coffee table, knowing she’ll need no distractions if she’s to say what she needs to say.

“The other night was great, really great, actually,” She begins. “But you just left the next morning without a word, and that really upset me.”

“You were upset because I left?” He asks, sounding almost surprised.

“Yes!” She replies with exasperation. “You made me feel cheap, and used.”

“Cheap? But I bank transferred you afterwards.”

“Jesus, Aemond! I’m not a prostitute!” She throws up her hands angrily, gesticulating her point.

He swallows thickly, clearly considering his next words carefully. “I know you said you’ve never done anything like this before, but neither have I, and I made a mistake. My grandfather called me into the office early on Saturday morning. You looked so peaceful sleeping that I didn’t want to wake you. I’m sorry that my carelessness has hurt you, but I am keen to continue our arrangement.”

It all seems so simple when he words it like that. She could easily have reached out to question his actions, but she’d allowed her emotions to guide her and now feels foolish because of it. When she says nothing, Aemond presses on. 

“No funny business, I promise. We don’t have to sleep together again, but I’ve enjoyed having your company at family functions, it makes them more bearable. Please say you’ll consider it?”

She’s not sure what prompts the words from her mouth, perhaps it’s the pleading look in Aemond’s eye, or the fact that she enjoys his company too, but she says them before she fully has a chance to think about them. “Okay, we’ll carry on as before.”

“Thank you,” He says earnestly.

The buzzer sounding again prevents him from saying anything else, as Mysaria hurries from her room towards the door, in pursuit of her pizza delivery.

“I suppose that’s my cue to leave,” Aemond says softly. “I’ll text you, okay?”

She nods, and they both stand, hovering near each other, both unsure of what would be an appropriate goodbye. Eventually Aemond leans in, kissing the corner of her mouth lightly before pulling back and exiting the flat. She holds her fingers against the area, still able to feel the press of his lips even after he’s departed.

It takes three days for Aemond to message her again, and in that time it feels as though she could crawl out of her own skin with the apprehension that his silence brings. Had he changed his mind, decided her withdrawing contact over an honest mistake was too much to deal with? It fills her with a nervous energy that makes the days unbearable.

The relief she feels when he finally deigns to reach out is borderline humiliating.

Not sure if you remember my half sister, Rhaenyra, but she is having a BBQ on Saturday. Are you free?

I remember. Are you sure you want to go after what happened on your mum’s birthday? Xoxo

My mother will never let me hear the end of it if I don’t go. Will you come with me?

Yeah, I’m free :) xoxo

When Saturday finally rolls around, she keeps her hair and make-up simple, wearing a floral sundress and strappy sandals, but immediately feels underdressed as she recognises the house they pull up outside of as being the one they’d been to for Jace and Baela’s engagement party.

She has little time to dwell on her appearance though, as Aemond ushers her through the expanse of the house and out into the back garden. A sprawling, lush green lawn that could be considered more of a field due to its size plays host to various members of the Targaryen and Hightower families, as the smell of barbecued meat lingers on the breeze.

Aemond leads her around, his hand glued to the small of her back, so she can say polite hellos to everyone. Alicent and Criston greet her with warm hugs and kisses to both cheeks, Helaena does the same, while standing with Baela and Rhaena, the two girls offer a quick “hello” in sing-song unity. Aegon merely holds up a hand by way of greeting, looking less than enthusiastic to be there, and Otto says a polite “good to see you both”. The rest of the family’s greetings are a little more frosty, with Rhaenyra, Jace, Luke and Joffrey giving curt nods of acknowledgement, while Daemon is too preoccupied with the barbecue to notice they’ve even arrived.

“Viserys and Aegon not joining us?” Alicent asks Rhaenyra softly.

“It would mean having to switch off their Playstation, so I very much doubt it,” Rhaenyra says with a roll of her eyes.

The tension is palpable, but her nerves subside slightly when she sees a Rhodesian ridgeback galloping around the garden, with a copper coloured dachshund hot on its heels.

“Oh cute!” She says, turning to Aemond. “Could you not have brought Vhagar?”

“No,” He sighs. “She doesn’t get along with Syrax and Caraxes, so I’ve left her with the dog sitter.”

She gratefully accepts a glass of Pimm’s that’s offered to her by Otto, before he tells Aemond he needs a word.

“You’ll be okay for a moment won’t you, darling?” Aemond asks her.

The pet name causes her breath to catch in her throat and she merely nods, not trusting herself to speak. As they walk away together, she wanders over to a corner of the large garden, pretending to examine an ornate sundial to keep herself busy, when she feels a presence beside her.

Aegon has sidled up to her, beer in hand, a slight smirk on his face. “Having fun?”

“About as much as you are, by the looks of things,” She replies with a tight smile.

“At least you’re getting paid to be here.”

Her eyes go wide, her chest tightening as she realises he knows.

Aegon chuckles. “Ah, you didn’t think I knew? It’s fine, who do you think showed him the app?”

“O-oh…” is all she’s able to stammer, feeling too shocked to say anything else.

“You play a convincing part,” He takes a swig from his bottle. “Too good to be acting, actually. You can’t fake how you look at my brother.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” She snaps, feeling the familiar heat of embarrassment tingle at her flesh.

Aegon snorts derisively. “Look, take it from me, don’t get attached. My brother is the last person you want to get involved with. This whole family is a fucking car crash.”

She sips anxiously at her drink, nodding slightly. “I’d noticed none of you seem to get along that well.”

“That is the fucking understatement of the century. Has Aemond told you much about us?”

“Nothing substantial.”

“Allow me to fill you in,” He gestures discreetly towards Alicent. “My mother used to be best friends with my half-sister, they went to school together. My grandfather and my father were business partners, tri-owners of multiple companies alongside Daemon. When my father’s wife, Rhaenyra’s mother, passed away suddenly, my mother started dating my father.”

“Jesus…” She mutters under her breath.

“Oh, it gets worse!” He says with a leer. “See, Rhaenyra wasn’t happy that her best friend had shacked up with her dad. I mean, who would be? She was even more pissed off when the three of us came along, as it meant she was no longer an only child. She started sleeping around to get back at my father, that’s how she ended up with those three.”

Aegon nods towards where Jace, Luke and Joffrey all stand.

“What about her other two children, Aegon and Viserys?”

“Those are the kids she’s had with Daemon. They got married shortly before my father passed away. Mum thinks she did it just to strengthen her claim of the assets, as Daemon’s a partner in the business and Dad didn’t bother to leave a will. Everything Mum has ever tried to claim for us she’s contested.”

“So that’s what all that talk of Dragonstone Cottage was about at your Mum’s birthday?”

“Yeah, ‘Nyra’s sneaky way of trying to hoard assets for her brood.”

“How do Baela and Rhaena fit into all of this?”

“They’re Daemon’s children from a previous marriage.”

“But Baela is engaged to Jace, isn’t that a bit…” She trails off, not knowing the exact word she wants to use.

“Incestuous?” Aegon lets out a laugh that borders on being too unhinged to come from a place of genuine mirth, before taking another swig of his beer. “Yeah, yeah, it is.”

“So what does this have to do with Aemond? Why should I not get involved?”

Aegon rounds on her. “Has he ever told you about, y’know…” He taps his eye.

She shakes her head. “No.”

“Hmmm. Probably best to leave that to him to explain then.”

Their attention is pulled away by the sound of a fork being tapped against the side of a glass. She turns to see Daemon standing at the head of the garden. “Just wanted to thank you all for joining us today”, He says as everyone gathers closer, herself and Aegon included. “I think such an occasion is cause for celebration.” He brandishes a bottle of champagne, before popping the cork, a few that are stood closest step back out of its line of fire.

Luke smirks, elbowing Aemond. “He should be careful, almost had your other eye out.”

It happens so suddenly it seems like a blur, but Aemond has Luke by the collar and Aegon is rushing forward to tackle Jace away. Punches are thrown from both sides, until the ensuing scuffle is broken apart by Daemon and Otto.

Aemond’s eye is wild as he approaches her, his breathing ragged, and his usually immaculately styled hair tousled. “Come on, we’re leaving,” He grits out.

She has to hurry to keep up with his long strides through the house and to the car, and they drive in silence, Aemond’s knuckles blanched with the force of the grip he has on the steering wheel.

She drums her fingers anxiously against her thighs, not quite knowing what to say, but it is Aemond who eventually breaks the silence.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” He says quietly. “It was a bad idea for us to go today.”

“What was that all about?” She asks as gently as she can. “What got you so heated?”

Aemond sighs heavily, keeping his focus on the road ahead, and for a moment she doesn’t think he will answer her.

“Luke’s the reason I lost my eye,” He admits. “His little comment today got to me, and I lashed out.”

“What happened?” She turns slightly in the passenger seat to face him.

“It’s stupid really, an irresponsible rich family allowing their kids to roam the woods with Airsoft guns. The official story is that it was an accident, but accidents don’t happen at point blank range, accidents aren’t something you never apologise for.”

“Jesus, Aemond, I’m so sorry.” Her heart aches for him, having to play happy families with someone who has maimed him

“It is what it is,” He says with a slight shrug. “Makes being around them harder than it already is though. Thank you for being there with me today.”

“That’s alright,” She fidgets nervously with the hem of her dress as they pull up outside her block of flats. “Do you want to come inside for a bit? You shouldn’t be alone when you’re feeling like this.”

No funny business.

Her heart races as Aemond’s hands disappear up her skirt, reappearing with her underwear grasped in his fingers, dragging them down her legs.

We don’t have to sleep together again.

She buries her hands into the softness of his hair as he latches his mouth against her, bringing her to quick release with harsh strokes of his tongue. Every thought of what they’d discussed on Sunday evening leaves her mind as he pushes her back against the mattress, the force of his thrusts inside of her causing her toes to curl and her eyes to roll back, until he eventually collapses against her with a grunt, the faint pulsation of him inside of her signifying he’s reached his end.

They fall asleep, curled around each other in her tiny double bed and she’s pleased to see he’s still there when she awakens the following morning.

“Your mattress is fucking terrible,” Aemond grouses sleepily, pulling her tighter against him. “It feels like I’ve slept on a pile of loose change.”

She giggles, nuzzling into his neck.

They spend most mornings like that, over the coming weeks. Aemond becomes a frequent presence in the little flat. Her feet stay planted in his lap while they watch TV after work in the evenings, before he fucks her into the mattress like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. Their mornings are lazy and indulgent, spent slowly exploring every inch of each other, before they part ways to go to work, only to do it all over again in the evening.

She buys a dog bed, which takes up half the floor space in her bedroom. Aemond raises an eyebrow at this.

“Vhagar’s quite fussy about where she sleeps,” He tells her, only to watch in disbelief as the elderly doberman circles several times on it, before settling down to nap. “I stand corrected.”

Their presence in her life becomes larger as time goes on, and it’s difficult not to feel that it is more than it is, but she is constantly reminded of the transactional nature with every shopping trip on Oxford Street, every visit to Champney’s Spa, each time he hands her his credit card.

The thought occurs to her that perhaps she ought to broach the topic of what they are, how their relationship is developing, but each time she decides against it, too afraid he’ll say something she doesn’t want to hear.

Mysaria smiles as she sees them snuggled together in front of the TV, when she comes home. “You’re here so often, we’ll have to start charging you rent,” She says playfully.

Aemond pulls out his phone, bringing up his banking app. “How much?” He asks, deadly serious.

“Aemond, she was joking!” She laughs, swatting his arm playfully.

It’s been a slow Saturday morning, almost midday and she sits at the kitchen table, a satisfied ache between her legs, as she sips at a coffee while Aemond plates up eggs benedict for them both. One of the things that surprises her most about him is that he’s able to cook, and he does it well.

She eyes him carefully as she pokes at her breakfast, unable to shift the feeling of how his fingers dug into her flesh, how he gazed at her so reverently, his lips featherlight against her throat just an hour before.

His money, his lavish lifestyle, she wants none of it. She just wants him, so she decides that this time she’ll be brave and shoot her shot before she has the opportunity to second guess herself.

Carefully, she sets down her cutlery and rests her chin against her hand. “So I’ve been thinking…about us.”

Aemond pauses, fixing her with his right eye.

Nerves flutter in her belly at his silence, but she continues anyway. “What we have, let’s make a proper go of it? I don’t care about your money, Aemond, I just want to be with you.”

He clears his throat, setting down his own knife and fork, before slowly wiping his mouth on a napkin. “I can’t do that,” He says quietly.

She is immediately struck by the hollowness in her chest, sucking in a harsh breath to ground herself against the lump forming in her throat.

Aemond reaches across the table, taking her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “You’re perfect,” He reassures her. “But I’m not, and I don’t do relationships. My circumstances are too complicated, I’d end up hurting you, and that’s the very last thing I want to do.”

She can’t argue with him, he’s being so bloody nice about it, and Aegon had warned her of this. She wants to scream at him, to cry, to tell him it isn’t fair, but it’s her that has asked for this, and at least he’s being honest with her, even if the truth does make her feel like her chest is being crushed under a vast weight. “I understand,” She chokes out.

“I’m sorry,” He says sadly, genuinely.

“Can you…can you just go, please?” She whispers, unable to look at him.

He nods, standing and presses a gentle kiss to her temple before leaving.

Only after she hears the front door click closed, and the feel of his lips have faded from her skin, does she allow herself to fall apart. Hot tears cascade down her cheeks, as she feels the presence that has taken up so much of her life leave behind a gaping void in its wake.

[kyra45]

Scam posts and how to spot them

(Scam posts and how to spot them)

Hi! My names Key (or Jess depending on where you know me from) and I’m here again on your dashboard to tell you about scams and the general things to look out for when you get asks for mutual aid.

Disclaimer: Not every blog asking for mutual aid is a scammer and therefore you shouldn’t assume everyone is a scammer on sight. It’s necessary to do some research into the accounts who appear in your askbox or DMs.

—

Anyway, what is a scam post?

A scam post is a post that’s usually asking for monetary support but isn’t being entirely honest about the reason and also may be misleading or stolen from someone else. These posts range from a variety of topics but generally are based on trending events or medical attention such as needing insulin or medicine to prevent lungs from collapsing. The scam post means that the post is false and no money sent is going to someone who needs it because the poster is lying and isn’t telling the truth about who they are or what their fundraising for and may be stealing their post off someone else to make bank. Sometimes a scam post is about needing to pay a bill for pet care and the images are stolen off another fundraiser offsite much like the usual scam.

—

How do you find out if something is a scam?

One of the best ways to find out if a post is a scam is to search the username of the blog and see if anyone’s made any posts about the account who sent you an ask. It’s also suggested to search the ask as well to see if it may have came from another blog who was already called out for the same scam at some point in time. You may also find the account disappears before you can answer the ask if you was waiting some time before answering it.

It’s also likely the account may reuse the same pfp/story across multiple accounts with very little change in their posting content. This means the blog sending the ask has only a few random reblogs and then one original post. What the blog hopes for is that you don’t bother scrolling down a lot to see how very few posts they may have. If you use timestamps, you’ll see that often the pinned post is a few days old or even hours old. The tags also are usually completely unrelated to the content itself. (If you’re legit and do this for visibility, don’t. It’s spam if not in reblogs. Please use only related tags as per the rules.) Sometimes the link is several colors of text. (If you do this for some reason, please consider accessibility for those who can’t see some color and may miss the link entirely.) And other times there’s a linktree link posing as something else.

Also the blog may say they’re vetted/verified but keep in mind this doesn’t matter if they don’t tell you or say anywhere on their blog who vetted them or what organization confirmed their legitimacy. They won’t say who because asking whoever it is would instantly call out the scammer themselves. It has happened already and that’s why you shouldn’t trust a ‘vetted’ blog if they don’t list anyone anywhere on their page. Some accounts will just say that and expect you to not ask anything because they can’t pass whatever means of verification is asked for.

—

What do you do if you know for certain a post is a scam?

Please alert anyone sharing the post and also make a post yourself compiling the evidence you’ve gathered proving the scam so others searching will see it and be able to decide for themselves if the account is a scam or not. This makes it easier for a scam blog to be found out even if they try changing urls as they always do that for some reason.

[erisweekofficial]

Today we are celebrating the Amazing @the-darkestminds! 🤩

If you've ever wanted to dive into an Azris fic, we SUPER recommend her fic Autumn's Shadow which you can read on tumblr or ao3. This fic features enemies to friends to lovers and is so achingly soft!!

Definitely read this fic if you love stories that balance sensuality with tenderness and also feature a super unique plot full of mystery 👀

Read more to learn why @the-darkestminds started writing for Eris and what to do if Eris gets sick!

Would drew you to creating content for Eris? And especially for Azris other than any other ship for him?

I have the most fun writing for characters whose stories are largely untold. Angst/pain/hurt are my favorite themes to write and Eris fits into that mold well for me. There are no shortage of characters in the acotar universe with traumatic backstories, but to me Eris feels particularly tragic. We know he’s abused by his father, has likely been forced to wear a mask for his entire life. He cares about Lucien but is unable to show it in any open, meaningful way. He clearly cares about his Court and people, and yet he's treated like a supervillain by the main characters of the series. I think he’s extremely lonely. He doesn’t have an inner circle or a family he can trust. There’s so much to work with when it comes to his backstory because it hasn’t yet been written, which makes it extremely fun to fill in the blanks, specifically the events that shaped him into the male he is today. A lot of room to write about his pain and suffering. lol Because of this, I think he pairs well with Azriel’s darkness. They may appear completely different on the outside: Eris is snarky, bold, well dressed, vibrant, etc, whereas Azriel is brooding, quiet, always hidden in the shadows…but I like them together because they both have an inherent darkness to them. They’ve both known suffering. In my mind, they are able to draw each other out of it with lots of tension and passion. 

How do you choose which scenes or moments to focus on?

Again, I have the best time writing angst and pain, so I try to focus on scenes that depict how his suffering has shaped him as a character. We’ve only been told snippets of his past, so I like to fill in those gaps and try to portray what his suffering might’ve looked like. I decided to write one fic for Eris Week that focuses on when his childhood trauma first began, and another oneshot depicting his grief as a grown male. I swear I love him! 

What role do you think fan interactions play in your creative process?

A HUGE one. In fact, the only reason I ended up posting the first chapter of my azris fic was due to the lovely @unanswered-stars expressing interest and asking to be added to a tag list!  I absolutely love getting feedback on what I write and it motivates me to keep going. I’ve had people share their thoughts and theories, ask questions and wonder about certain elements of the story that in turn have given me ideas for later chapters. Their support is everything and I am a much better writer for it.

Eris is sick! What are you doing to help him get better?

Calling Azriel

Also: Can you give me a name for one of Eris's brothers? And also for one of his dogs?

One of Eris’s brothers is named Jasper. He is the second oldest after Eris and is featured in one of my Eris Week fics. One of his hounds is named Sol. Eris acquired this hound shortly after Lucien was forced to flee to spring and wanted something to remind him of his youngest brother. 

[amikaelsonstory]

Not the end, but a new beginning - III

Chapter III

Warning: smut, blood, (sorry about the delay guys, I'll edit this post later with the tag list)

As the eldest Mikaelson brother gets more suspicious about their new guest, a memory from his life in Europe unfolds, bringing Elijah over the edge.

As Hope guided Minna to the guests’ room, Minna’s eyes ran all over the Mikaelson’s place, trying to see if she could get some clue of what was happening and why they wanted her so bad.

“Here it is” – Hope opened the door and turned to Minna, waving around then holding her own hands down, feeling a bit of ashamed by the way her family found to bring Minna to them – ‘There’s towels and a robe in the bathroom, if you want…to take a shower, I don’t know’ – Hope felt her cheeks flushing , she couldn’t help to not feel glad and hopeful Minna was there, so she got closer to her and held her hands, looking up to her eyes. – “See you in the evening” - and disappeared before Minna could say anything.

Meanwhile downstairs, Elijah, who tried his best to regain his usual composure, was drinking some bourbon at the study room looking out of the window, when Klaus busted room in, confident as nobody hasn’t seeing in quite a while. – “There you are, brother! You missed the unboxing of our brand-new weapon against the hollow” – Klaus cheered while poured himself a glass as well – ‘And if I may add, she’s quite ravishing’.

‘Niklaus... ‘– Elijah finally moved his gaze to his brother, placing a hand on his pockets – ‘Doesn’t it feel too...easy? Discovering this woman, bringing her home, close to us, to Hope. Shouldn’t we be more careful in times like this?’ – He started walking around the room, avoiding facing his brother in an attempt to disguise his real worries. Klaus heavily set on the couch, taking a large sip of bourbon – Brother, she seems to be the key for what we need, but in case she isn’t, I’m sure we won’t have any issues in ending her as well – he rose his eyebrows and smirked to his brother, lifting the glass up – ‘Don’t be so… how you lot call me? Paranoid’

As Minna finished her shower, she wore a silk black robe that was kindly placed on her bed and walked towards the balcony, combing her wet hair and trying to organize her thoughts. She was apprehensive, although that family was very warm welcoming her, something deep in her guts felt wrong. To push away her fears, Minna figured that walking around the compound would be a wise idea, in case she needed to scape. As she walked through the shadowy hallways, a husky deep voice took her by surprise.

‘Miss Murray, I believe I didn’t have the honor’ – Elijah appeared unannounced, making Minna gasp in surprise, but laughed softly placing one hand on her chest – ‘Dear Lord, you scared me!!’ – she turned to face him, breathing heavily. Her eyes ran all over the man facing her, his open hand in the air, indicating he wished to greet her. As Elijah took her hand and lift to meet his lips, his eyes were locked on hers, he felt like time had stopped. The roses smell on her skin, her soft fingers, her touch…It couldn’t be real. – ‘I’m Elijah Mikaelson, you met my siblings I believe.’ – He kept her hand on his, as his eyes dropped to the black silk robe she was wearing. The fabric was delicate, hugging her hips and breasts, allowing him to see her chest moving up and down as Minna's breath was still uneasy by the surprise approach. She was barefoot, which allowed him to recognize those delicate feet, absorbing every detail completely. As Elijah lifted his eyes to meet hers again, he was taken somewhere else.

______________________________________________________________

Vienna, 1886.

It was a breezy autumn night, Elijah was leaning against the window, looking the few pedestrians walking on streets of Vienna. He was distracted, hands in his pockets trying to disguise his anxiety, when he heard some soft steps approaching – ‘Dear Lord, you scared me!’ – Elisabeth gasped in surprise, giggling by the sight of Elijah in her room. She stepped slowly towards him, playing with the ribbons of her nightdress – ‘You were not supposed to be here Elijah, Mrs. Berger doesn’t allow gentlemen in the rooms’. He opened a warm smile as Elisabeth approached him with a cheeky glow on her face.

 – ‘Well, you were not at Dr. Freud’s lecture this afternoon, so I felt the obligation to come here and check for your wellbeing’ – Elijah grabbed Elisabeth by her waist, bringing her close enough to feel his lips ghosting over hers, filling the air thick with tension.  Elisabeth stood on her tiptoes, ran her hands through Elijah’s torso up and down, vociferating – ‘Liar’ – with a giggle before catching his lips on hers.  As their lips and tongues devoured each other’s, she slid a hand around his neck, softly pull his hair. Elijah pulled her closer, placing a hand on her back, sliding the other down to her hip, grabbing her butt cheek eagerly – ‘Not lying Elis, a single day without the sight of you is a nightmare to me’- He broke the kiss to cup her cheeks, his thumbs softly caressing her face – ��I truly mean it, darling’.

Elisabeth held Elijah’s hands and took one to her lips, kissing it satinly as her she closed her eyes – ‘I know my love, I know’- She suddenly opened her eyes and leapt over the bed, sitting on her heels- ‘So why don’t you tell how was your wasted day while you brush my hair?’.

Elijah unclasped his cufflinks, folding his sleeves and set behind Elisabeth on the bed. He took a brush for her nightstand and softly started untangling her long chestnut hair. He pulled all to one side, exposing her neck and a part of her shoulder, running his hand up and down, slightly pressing her neck. As Elisabeth closed her eyes, enjoying his touch, she opened her lips releasing a soft moan, making Elijah’s fangs stand, feeling his member tight up inside his trousers – ‘I got a gift for you, but you must keep your eyes closed’- he whispered on her ear, nibbling it down to her neck.  Elisabeth nodded, rubbing her hands on her nightdress fabric, as her arousal was increasing by feeling Elijah’s touch. He fasted the necklace on her neck and guided her to the large mirror on the bed side. – ‘Now you may look’ – he held his beloved, crossing his arms around her waist, and rested his chin on her shoulder, watching her reaction on the mirror.

‘Elijah!’ – She gasped surprised, her big onyx eyes were brightening by the diamonds sparkles – ‘This is... too much. It’s beautiful’ – Elisabeth hissed mesmerized, turning her face to capture his lips. ‘It’s nothing compared to what you mean to me Elis. And it’s just an overture to what I need to say’ – Elijah was placing soft kissed on her skin while his skilled fingers unbuttoned her nightdress. Elis laid her head back on his shoulder, pressing her hips against his, feeling his bulge urging to be released.

As her nightdress dropped by her feet, Elijah cupped his hands on her breasts, squeezing them with some pressure, making Elis moan a bit louder as he sank his fangs deep on her neck, drinking her eagerly. Her blood dripped from her neck, his mouth, tainting the diamonds, making a bloody mess all over her naked body. Elis put her hands behind her back, unbuttoning Elijah’s trousers, releasing his cock, running her hands up and down on it, making him retrieve his fangs, to catch a breath. He ran his hand down her body, coating his fingers with blood and sliding two of them inside her from behind.

Elis’ high-pitched moan was suffocated by Elijah’s wrist, as she sank her fangs on it, drinking from him, as he pushed his fingers deep inside her and withdraw them slowly, making her bend over the mirror. She placed both of her hands on it, staining blood over the mirror’s surface, meeting Elijah’s gaze through it. He stroked his length with his free hand, placing his cock between her butt cheeks, sliding it easily with all her blood and wetness, ready to swap places with his fingers inside her. Elisabeth’s moans became louder, irregular, as she was pressing her hips against his hand, whispering his name, until they heard someone shouting outside.

-MISS MAGYAR!! MISS MAGYAR! What is happening here?! – An old lady was knocking fiercely on the door, demanding Elisabeth to open it immediately.

The knocks on the door were so loud that Elijah was brought back to the present time, out of his memory dream.  His eyes focused on Minna’s, noticing he was still holding her hand tightly. She lifted her free hand and touched his face softly – ‘Elijah? Are you okay?’

‘Please forgive me, Miss Murray’ – Elijah released her hand as he bolted away, disappearing through the dark hallway.

[aristocratic-otter]

We'll pretend it's still Sunday...somewhere in the world, maybe it is! I don't know, ask my friend @frjsti, I suck at time zones.

The fun thing about taking weeks to post is that I get to collect all of y'all's tags like Pokémon. It gives me a little thrill to add another name to my list of people to thank--caught another one! This one's an Ultra! (Do I sound like I know what I'm talking about? I don't. The only Pokémon I can ever remember is Pikachu).

So, here's who I've collected since last I posted:

Thank you to : @alexalexinii, @artsyunderstudy, @monbons, @prettygoododds, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe,

@blackberrysummerblog, @nausikaaa, @bookish-bogwitch, @iamamythologicalcreature, @emeryhall,

@rimeswithpurple, @larkral, @youarenevertooold, @ileadacharmedlife, @thewholelemon,

@thehoneyedhufflepuff, @j-nipper-95

On with the snippets! Some of these honestly are a little out of date, since I've been collecting them for weeks and I've posted three chapters recently. But I'm sure y'all won't mind.

Also, did I count sentences? No, no I did not.

From Saving Simon Snow: 

I frown at her. “Souls are real? I thought mages weren’t religious.”

Penny waves a dismissive hand. “We’re not. The word soul is just a convenient way to describe the core of magic found in each mage.”

I frown harder. “Wait, then. I had no magic, so I shouldn’t have a ‘soul’ as you call it. Why did the spell work on me?”

It’s Penny’s turn to look troubled. “And Baz is a vampire and has no soul, so that doesn’t make sense either.”

“He has a soul!” I protest. “He has magic, doesn’t he?”

From the Heart in the Well

“But what are we to do about this?” I point to him and me and then to the now-six inches of water lapping around my ankles. 

Snow frowns. “Shit,” he mutters. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

“When do you ever think?” I snap. It hasn’t been too cold, but now, soaked to the skin, I’m feeling the temperature. I rub my arms. They haven’t gone numb—my vampire nature doesn’t really permit me that sort of human response—but I remember what it feels like to go numb, from back before I was turned. So even if the cold can’t really harm me, it makes me feel more human to act as if it could. 

From Snow Fox: 

I run my hand over my face, trying to rub away the exhaustion that’s dogged me since I brought Baz home for the last time. I’ve not been able to sleep through the night since then; between missing his arms around me and stress over my many responsibilities, it’s no wonder that rest evades me. 

I don’t want to put Penny at risk. But she’s right–she’s the most likely person to be able to get in and get back out again. Every man in my troop, including Shepard, has featured on one of the redcoat’s wanted posters. Our images are plastered to every tree from Atlanta to Charleston. 

From TikTok Dancer: 

.He shrugs again. “Well, you’re beautiful.” He says it in a matter of fact way, like he’s saying the sky is blue, or oatmeal is what’s for breakfast. I feel that tug in my chest again. “How did you manage to stay a virgin so long? Or is it just that you usually bottom?”

“I’m a virgin,” I sigh, giving up any pretense of appearing sophisticated. This man manages to unravel every false front I try to put up. “Or, I was.”

He grins again. “I’m honored that you chose me then. Now, are you ready to go again?”

From Stars, Flowers, and Children,

On top of a mound of cash and jewellery (had Davy robbed the coffers of everyone on the SS Watford after we were abandoned there?), I’m elated to find the old stereoscope that Davy amused us with, so long ago. And under it, an entire bag full of view cards. I frown. This is far more cards than I remember viewing, in that long ago time. Then I remember Davy sifting out several of the cards, and stowing them away. 

I’m immediately intrigued. I’m older now, not a child anymore, and I’m extremely curious to know what Davy considered to be “sinful shite,” not fit for my young eyes. 

From Cupid’s Shield:

I ate until my pants were too tight, and, for the first time I can remember, I didn’t even think I could manage a sour cherry scone. So I decided to skip Tea and go up to our room to sleep off my overindulgence.

Which is why I’m sprawled out on my back in bed, when our door is flung open so hard that the crash of it hitting the wall shakes the room. 

I sit up on my elbows and blink at the figure in the doorway. 

It’s Baz. Baz. And a glowing golden arrow is embedded in his back.

From my COBB project:

Simon, as team lead, doesn’t have one specific thing to do. Instead he’s buzzing anxiously around, inspecting everyone’s work and generally making a nuisance of himself, as he always does. Baz is about ready to pull his hair out if Simon asks him one more time “How’s the progress?” Or he might pull Simon’s hair out, and I wouldn’t blame him. 

Tags and cheers to: @chen-chen-chen-again-chen, @bazzybelle, @dragoneggos, @erzbethluna, @palimpsessed,

@frjsti, @fatalfangirl, @letraspal, @martsonmars, @melodysmash,

@moments-au-crayon22, @moodandmist, @mostlymaudlin, @onepintobean, @raenestee,

@tea-brigade, @upuntil6am, @whogaveyoupermission, @messofthejess, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz,

@krisrix, @shemakesmeforget, @confused-bi-queer, @facewithoutheart, @nightimedreamersghost, 

@thewholelemon, @angelsfalling16, @noblecorgi, @hushed-chorus, @whatevertheweather,

@ivelovedhimthroughworse, @mooncello, @wellbelesbian, @ic3-que3n, @shrekgogurt,

@cosmicalart,  @cutestkilla, @best--dress, @theearlgreymage

[dual-domination]

I was reading the most recent chapter of In endless mist and rain, and I reread the tags for possible updates, but so far Weilanxie doesn't appear listed as a relationship, just its three side/inner ships. Avid fan here, I'll continue following the fic regardless of how the ships form or break up, but out of curiosity: does the lack of the Weilanxie tag indicate that there won't be a polyamorous relationship between them? Because despite the most recent events, I don't think this configures a love triangle in any way and the fic doesn't have the tag either. Can you talk a little about what to expect from the ships?

Even though the answer doesn't contain explicit spoilers, some parts are plot revelations in some way, so long text under the cut.

This is actually a very complicated question. Does this fic have polyamorous relationship? Off screen, if you count V shaped Xiao Hua/Hei Xiazi/Zhang Qiling, yet it’s only hinted that Xiao Hua is part of this relationship somehow/more than a friend, than yes - off screen because Xiao Hua doesn’t appear in any scene along with Xiazi and Xiaoge so far and as both Xiazi and Xiaoge are my characters, I’m not planning on having any scene like that, so it’s more a ‘their relationship may or may not be polyamorous/probably is platonic’ - is left for the reader’s taste and interpretation. Why am I including them in the answer of an ask about Weilanxie? Because Idk if having or not polyamory in a fic in general is the issue here or not.

We do have one(1) main character that is, in fact, polyamorous (the label never appears on screen, but the identity is there). One of them is not, like, definitely. We (me and @tazzy-ace) noticed a while ago that this character has the opposite feelings of a polyamorous person, yet he circumstantially finds himself in a very different mindset of a standard (western) monogamous person. I treasure the way I build my characters and I’m not willing to change him, so maybe he’ll end up being the the impeding factor of actual polyamorous relationship happening (or being the endgame here). We don’t have A THING outlined, we write out of vibes, this is how we made this fic work, so we don’t really know the ending of this. We have the goal of bringing a happy ending, and considering that this is a romantic story in the first place, a happy ending includes at least one ship staying together - will this happen? Maybe not, maybe the best ending for them will be to stay all apart (Eh, probably this won’t be the ending skjjsskj this is me being dramatic, but it’d be more likely to happen than the 3 of them ending in a polyamorous relationship). But what about a V shaped one? Not impossible, I’d say, exactly because the characters and the vibes both me and Deputy Chief have when writing new content for this fic is what decides the plot. So I don’t believe we’ll have the Weilanxie and the Happy Ending tags until the day we write the last chapter for real to know.

About the Love Triangle - elements of traditional love triangles such as rivalry, unrequited love and jealousy are not present in the story, we could say that no, it’s not a suitable tag/label. But in the sense that one of the characters will be somehow romantically involved with the two other ones for a while - which doesn't exactly constitute cheating, but I can't explain further without giving spoilers - so yes, somehow you could say that a love triangle exists. 

What to expect from the ships? Each one, you mean? Everything gets much worse before it gets any better, with all of them. With some, things get much worse more than once - we’re working hard to provide more Angst than we already had in this 125k posted.

Weilan and Shenxie share the place under the spotlight when it comes to ‘screentime’ and relationship development (or ruining relationship too kjssjjk). We didn’t make any of the relationships simple and if you thought that romance between one of the Guardian mains + any grave robber from DMBJ is already unlikely to happen/hard to develop with them being their canon selves, for canon reasons, believe me, we made it even harder. You can expect pain and smut. More pain than smut, I’m sorry. (Yet this fic is rated E and properly tagged about its sexual content, there’s not even one sex scene that happens for the sake of smut in itself, all sex is contextual and meaningful, no matter how horny it is, we put extra efforts in the emotional part of this).

Polyamory to be depicted as realistic, is a delicate thing, and as I said above, one of our main characters is not polyamorous, one of them is (and the third one ehh I won’t reveal rn), so you can expect to see both sides of it: someone comfortable about how he feels and how he sees his (supposed/potential) relationships, as well as someone who’s confused, trying his best, but in the end, really uncomfortable about the possibilities. No side/identity is portrayed as being better than the other, or as being more correct than the other. But the ‘polyamory is the solution for love triangles’ is definitely not what we want here. Because polyamory can’t be forced, being polyamorous is NOT a decision (if you’re queer, you know what I mean). At the same time we’ll have the picture of a polyamorous person being happy in a monogamous relationship (or with only one partner, if you prefer), we’ll have someone that doesn’t have as lifegoal a romantic relationship (except if it’s WITH ONE VERY SPECIFIC PERSON). Could he be read as aro? No. (But you can read him like that, if you want). His lack of romantic interest in general is part of his upbringing, the part of his culture that his life is based upon, and some more circumstances, but it’s not an identity. Could he be read as ace? A bit, but not really. Same explanation about the aro identity. We had long discussions about how these labels are useful HERE, but they wouldn’t be the case depending on a person’s culture and upbringing.

So yeah, this character that is not polyamorous won’t be labeled as this or that, he’s just himself, that’s all. I’ll leave to the readers to see what they want to see there in him (and please, don’t try to push on me - an ace and married person - this harmful idea that aro and/or ace people can’t/shouldn’t be in a romantic/sexual relationship).

All that said, this fic is not about polyamory, like some of my other fics and several of Tazzy's other fics. That's not part of the central themes, it's the identity of one of the main characters and may or may not influence (for better or worse) their relationships in the future.

[jeankluv]

Snow on the beach || Trafalgar Law x fem!reader

Words: 3.2K

Warnings: Doffy, swearing

Note: chapter 8 already, wow I’m so happy that people keep supporting this silly fic of mine. Thank you. And enjoy ❤️

If you want to be add to the tag list let me know on comments 🫶

Previous chapeter || Materialist || Next chapter

Chapter VIII: Three Brothers

Law looked at the three boys in front of him with tired eyes. He was supposed to leave 30 minutes ago but the most chaotic siblings of the whole town appeared at the last minute.

“Ah!” The youngest cried, making a pout.

“Don't be a cry baby Luffy!” The freckles one said.

“Sorry! But Ace, Torao it’s not being nice!” Luffy reproached.

“That’s what happens when you decide to get the sled when there was no snow, you wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t be angry because I would have been in my house half an hour ago.”

“We are really sorry Dr. Trafalgar.” The blonde one spoke this time.

“Yeah sorry and please don’t mention any of this to Corazon.” Ace said.

“Why?”

“Because then he will tell Sengoku and Sengoku will tell our grandpa and… we don’t want to face him, he is terrifying.” Ace explained.

Law nodded. “I won’t tell anyone.” The three boys sighed in relief. “But you better not show up here at this hour ever again.”

“Don’t worry Dr. Trafalgar, it won’t happen.” Sabo said.

“Okay now, you can leave.”

“Thank you Torao!” Luffy smiled. “And by the way, can you tell y/n hi from me? I couldn’t visit her this weekend.” Law nodded and the boy left the room with a big smile.

Law stretched out in his seat and put away all his things, he was running late, surely you would have been home for a while by now. He left his office, waving goodbye to the few people that were left, he got in his car and started going back home.

He felt frustrated, he really wanted to take you home that night, and give you a small gift he bought earlier that day for you. It was a stupid gift and you probably could wait but he really wanted to see you and enjoy your company, even if it was for a few minutes. You made him feel like a completely different person and at first, when you tried to enter his life with that big smile and big dove eyes he hated it, he couldn’t understand why Corazon liked you so much. He thought you were just one of those city girls that wanted to experience living in an isolated town, take pictures of it, post them in social media and leave after three days, but you turned out to be different.

He exhaled in frustration, he had arrived home without realizing it. He turned off the engine and headed towards your house, you were probably still awake and he really wanted to see you. Law knocked on the door three times, but got no response, your lights were completely off and nothing could be heard inside the house. Maybe you were still in the restaurant? Something inside him told him that he should go to the restaurant quickly. He walked down the stairs to your porch and he got into the car, starting it quickly. That feeling in his chest area was there and it was making him nervous.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You were still hugging yourself and keeping yourself away from that man. You looked both sides trying to see if you could spot a familiar face but the streets were empty and the bus was running late.

“Sir.” You spoke. “I don’t the person you are looking for, now I would prefer for you…”

“Oh c’mon sweet y/n…” He smiled. You trembled, you had not told him your name at any time. “I know you know him. Don’t play games with me.”

“I’m not playing games with you sir.” You tried to breathe but you felt like you were running out of it.

“It’s okay sweetheart, I won’t hurt you or anything.” The nickname made you want to throw up.

“But… will you hurt Law?”

“Hmn… only if he doesn’t do what I told him.”

“You’re absolutely disgusting, once the police find out about…” You spotted talking when he put his hand on your mouth.

“I told you I was not going to hurt you but sweetheart if you disrespect me or even turn me to the police, I won’t hesitate. Besides, I know you have a little sister, don’t you?” You swallowed under his hand, feeling how your eyes were getting teary. How did he know? You only mentioned having a sister to Nami and Law and you knew that none of them would ever tell this man. “So now you get it sweetheart?” You nodded and he let your mouth free, with that you spent a few steps away from him and tried to calm yourself.

“Oi y/n!” You heard a voice, a voice you were familiar with and a voice you were glad to hear.

You turned around to see the happiest boy in the world running in your direction, followed by two boys you didn't know about. You let out all the air that had been building up in your lungs for minutes, and smiled.

“Y/n!” He hugged you when he reached you. “What are you doing here? The restaurant was closed already.”

“I was waiting for the bus to go home.”

“Oh!” He nodded. “I see…” You glanced to your side, to see if the boss was still there, and yeah he was, not moving an inch, you hoped that with the presence of Luffy and his two friends, he would leave. “Do you know my brothers y/n?”

You tilted your head. “Brothers? I didn’t know you had.”

“Yep.” He smiled. “This is Ace.” He pointed at the black haired boy with freckles. “And this one is Sabo.” He pointed at the blonde one. “Guys this is y/n!”

“Nice to meet you y/n, we have heard a lot from you.” Sabo spoke.

“Oh for real?” You were surprised.

“Yeah Luffy talks a lot. You probably already noticed that.” Ace spoke this time and you smiled. Ace then put his eyes on the boss and he nudged Sabo a little so he would look at him too.

“Excuse me sir.” Sabo spoke and walked a few steps closer to the boss. “Are you looking for someone or something here?”

“Was he bothering you y/n?” Ace whispered to you.

You wanted to nod but you were afraid that man could hurt them, if you said anything.

“Y/n you can trust us, don’t worry.” It was Luffy this time.

“It’s okay guys. I was just waiting for my bus and this man appeared here. But nothing to worry about.” You lied, with a fake smile on your face.

“If the lady feels uncomfortable, I will leave.” The boss spoke. “Have a good night, hopefully we can meet in another circumstance.” Hopefully not. He started to walk away.

“You sure everything was alright y/n?” Sabo approached. You nodded again assuaging them everything was okay, although it was not true. “We can talk with the police if you want.”

“If you meet him and he bothers you, don’t hesitate to tell us. We will kick his ass.” Luffy said with a determined look on his face.

“Luffy, relax. Look what happened the last time you kicked someone’s ass.” Sabo sighed.

Luffy pouted. “But…” He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter, y/n is my friend and if that sunglassed guy bothers her I will send him flying.”

Ace rolled his eyes and smiled. “Y/n we will stay with you until the bus comes.”

“Oh there is no…”

“It wasn’t a question, we will stay.” Sabo said and sat down on the bus stop, followed by Ace and Luffy.

“Thank you.” You sat with them.

“So tell us y/n what were you doing before ending up here? It’s strange for us to get new people.” Ace asked.

“Mhm… well I just needed a peaceful place to stay. This was a good option.” You shook your head.

“It’s peaceful but sometimes it’s boring.” Luffy sighed.

“Getting bothered sometimes it’s good, Luffy. You started to pay attention to things you weren’t paying before.” You smiled. “I really liked it here, I mean I got the chance to meet you.” You looked at him.

“I’m also glad you came here.” He smiled and hugged you.

You smiled and hugged him back. “I didn’t know you had brothers.”

“Yep.” He smiled. “Ace, Sabo and I, we were raised together and became brothers.” You nodded.

“We were raised by Dadan, I don’t know if you have met her.” Ace explained and you shook your head. “It’s normal, she lives outside of the town and only comes from time to time.”

The three brothers explained to you how the three of them came from different backgrounds, how Sabo used to come every single weekend with his father and stepmother to spend the weekends at their house, but he would always sneak out to spend time with Ace first and then with Luffy too. Ace on the other hand, spent his whole life here, his mother died in childbirth and he didn’t know much about his father and honestly he didn’t care. As for Luffy, his grandfather raised him until he was four but then duty called and asked Dadan to look after him, his father apparently was someone important but Luffy couldn’t care less about it. The three of them bonded together and eventually they swore like brothers drinking sake.

You found heartwarming how they bonded with one another and how till this day, they are still together. Kelly was too young for you, she was still a baby, so that bond between you two was still not there. You hoped you could become someone who she could lean on, trust and watch as a role model. At least that’s what you used to want.

“Oh! Y/n!” Luffy took you back to reality. “Has Nami told you?”

“Told me? Was she supposed to?”

He nodded his head enthusiastically. “So every year, before Christmas we, the whole group, goes a few days . We stay in a cabin and enjoy the days on the frozen lake. This week we will be doing the same. Wanna c’mon?”

You thought for a moment, a mini vacation with your friends sounded amazing. “I would love to but the restaurant.”

“Don’t worry, Zeff usually closes the restaurant for a week before Christmas.” Ace said and Luffy nodded.

“Then yeah, sure.” You smiled and Luffy screamed in happiness. “Who is going?”

“Well… the group you already know, Sabo, will bring his girlfriend Koala and Ace will be bringing a friend of his, Yamato right?” Ace nodded. “You should ask Torao if he wants to come. Apparently you are the only one that is able to convince him or do this.” You laughed.

“I will try, but I can not promise anything.” You spot your bus coming. “Oh that’s my bus.” You stand up and the three boys did the same. “Thank you again for what you did.”

“There is no need y/n.” Sabo said.

“Yeah, don’t worry, you’re our little brother's friend and now you’re ours too, so we will always help you.” Ace said with a smile on his face.

“Yeah y/n you can count on us!” Luffy said.

“Thank you guys. I really appreciate it.” You hugged each of them. “I hope we see each other soon.”

The three of them nodded in unison and you couldn't help but giggle. You got on the bus and sat by the window to say goodbye to them from there. The three of them waved goodbye to you and you did the same until you lost sight of them. You leaned your head against the glass, it was still going to take you a while to get home, unlike the trips with Law in his car, here it was going to take longer because of the stops he made.

Law.

You closed your eyes remembering what happened before the brothers showed up. Now you understand why Law wanted to push you away, why was he so terrified for you. The boss already knew about your sister, which means he probably also knew about your mom and David too. It made you shake with the thought of them getting hurt once again because of you. You wanted them to be safe and okay, but being away you couldn’t be there to protect them. Although you knew there was a way to protect them, even if you were kilometers away.

No.

No you didn’t want to think about that possibility, you simply didn’t want it. What type of coward would you be if after telling Law to rely on you, not to push you away, to let you help him, you started to push him away, you would do exactly that, push him away. Leave him alone. Leaving there was not an option either. You didn't want to continue running away and you didn't want to abandon the people you had met in this town. There had to be some option, one where you wouldn't put your family's lives in danger, where you wouldn't have to stay away from Law, and where you could help him get rid of that man.

“Lady?” You heard from the front of the bus. “Isn’t this your stop?” You looked around and it fact it was.

“Yes it is. Thank you and have a good night.” You said leaving the bus.

You walked towards your house, there was no car parked at Law's house. He missed you, maybe Law was still working, that's why he hadn't shown up to pick you up. You entered the house and quickly went to the bathroom, you needed to take a hot shower after today.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Zeff and Sanji had told him that you had left a while ago. From what she assumed you had gone to the bus stop, Law walked or rather ran to the bus stop, hoping to find you sitting there. But you weren't there and Law could feel his heart speed up instantly and he knew it wasn't because he just ran, but because of that strange feeling that had been present in his stomach since he hadn't found you home when he returned.

“Oh! Torao!” Law cursed under his breath, right now Luffy was the person he least wanted to see. “What are you doing here? Searching for y/n? She just left.”

Law turned his body to meet Luffy and his brothers. “Have you seen y/n?” The three brothers nodded in unison.

“Yeah, she just left. We made sure she got safely after that weird man was with her.” Sabo talked this time.

Law swallowed, those words from Sabo had left his mouth dry. "What man?"

“Don’t know man. He was weird, he was wearing glasses and…” Ace was explaining when Law cut him off.

“Glasses?” It was him, he was certain about it. “And you made sure she got on the bus safely? There was no one strange on the bus.”

“No, she was the only one on it. She probably already got home or she is about to.”

Law nodded and without saying a single word, he began walking back to his car. He didn't have time to talk to those three, he had to see you and make sure you were okay and that asshole Doflamingo hadn't done anything to you. Just like before in a blink he was already getting of the car and going straight to your front door. He knocked on the door but there was no response, Law's pulse accelerated by the moment, and if Doflamingo had followed you here and if you were in danger?

He bit the inside of his cheek, he knew that he shouldn't enter other people's houses but you weren't responding and knowing that Doflamingo had been with you minutes before, they left him no other alternative.

He knew that Mrs. Smith kept a key on top of the door frame; more than once when he was young, she had called him to get it after leaving the keys inside. He entered the house and started calling your name, it was dark and cold inside.

“Fuck y/n…” He whispered to himself, searching for you.

He went up the stairs with long strides, when.

“Ah!” You shouted in front of him. Law opened his eyes when he saw you, you were there in front of him and you seemed fine. Although there was also something else. “What are you doing here Law?!” You covered yourself. You were only wearing a towel, which barely covered you up to your thighs.

“I…” Law swallowed, he could feel his cheeks burning. This had never happened to him but he didn't expect to find it like this when he entered your house like that. Law turned to avoid looking at you. “I’m really sorry y/n, I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

You looked at his back and lowered your head, you would swear you had seen his blushing cheeks. “I am.” You said. “I was taking a shower.”

He nodded, still facing away from you. “Hmm, I'll be down. I need to talk with you."

“Alright… I’ll go change, I’ll be there in a minute.” And you walked towards your room passing by Law.

Law looked down when he saw you walking in front of him, damn he looked like a hormonal teenager at that moment. He quickly went down to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water.

You leaned against the door of your bedroom, God, your heart was racing. And you didn't know if it was because of the scare that Law had given you, of her seeing you practically naked or because of the fact that she had appeared before you with the most worried expression you had ever seen. Law was back at your house, at night, and after realizing your feelings today, him being here didn't help in the slightest.

You took your pijama and changed to it, and made a braid on your wet hair. You looked at yourself in the mirror and inhaled. A question was running through your head and it was if Law was here because he had also met the boss.

You went down the stairs quietly and could see Law's figure sitting on the couch, with his head in his hands. You walked up there and whispered a shy “hello.” Law turned to look and when he saw you there, he got up from the couch, standing in front of you. Making you have to lift your head to look him in the eyes. Law swallowed and licked his lips before speaking.

“You’re alright… You’re here.” He said almost like a whisper.

“Yeah, I’m here.” You smiled at him.

Law watched you for a few moments and then pulled you closer to him, hugging you. You were frozen in place. That action had caught you off guard. You could feel Law's heart beating rapidly in his chest, and it sped up even more when you wrapped your arms around him. Staying even closer to each other.

“I’m so fucking glad you’re okay y/n.” He whispered to your ear. “You have no idea.”

Tag list: @phsycochan @punem699

[wardenparker]

Preview: Down the Rabbit Hole

Jack Daniels x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

When Jack accidentally shoots a civilian on a mission he takes on not only the guilt of the man’s death, but inherits his soulmate as well. To you, it’s a dream job with more perks than you can imagine - but for Jack it’s a nightmarish complication. Even more so when he starts to develop feelings.  

✨To be added to the tag list for this story, just like or comment on this post! ✨

“Jason Howe, 36, born in Northwood, New Hampshire on April 4th.”

Jack winces and curls his hand into a fist as he stands in front of the conference room table. Not having been invited to sit, nor to have the glass of ‘67 Statesman Reserve that Champ has sitting in a glass at his elbow. A drink that Jack desperately needs. “Champ, there was a gun.” Jack defends, although he knows it’s a weak excuse. Statesmen take out the bad guys, not hurt the innocent. And Jack’s killed a bystander who had nothing to do with anything.

"You've been off since Cambodia, Jack." And although Champ knows exactly why, it can't be considered an excuse. He looks back down at the file on the conference table and frowns, then keeps reading. "Two siblings. Parents both living. Soulmate so far unknown." The older man looks up, locking his eyes on Jack. "We're tracking her down."

“Why?” Jack demands, frowning at the mere idea. Statesman had never tracked down a soulmate of anyone before, why start now? “We don’t know who it is, or if they care.” He scoffs. “Better to let sleepin’ dogs lie.”

“I don’t blame you for not noticing.” Champ sighs and shakes his head before finally motioning for Jack to sit. The man is his best senior agent, his quickest set of reflexes, and his closest friend. Frankly, Champ is worried about the upheaval in Jack’s life lately. It’s affecting his perception on a base level, not to mention his work. “You didn’t come out of that fire fight unscathed, and your adrenaline was too damn high for the pain to get through to you.” Running one hand down his face, Champ huffs slightly as he sips from his own whiskey glass but still doesn’t offer Jack any. “The back of your right arm. Just above your elbow. You have a new mark, Jack.”

“Bullshit.” Jack spits, furious at the implication of what Champ is saying. “My soulmate is dead.” He reminds the older man, as if he wasn’t well aware. Hell, Champ was the one who had recruited Jack to Statesman, so he was well aquatinted with his backstory. Until this moment, he would have called the man a friend. Maybe his best friend, even though Tequila likes to claim that’s his title. “Been dead and gone for years. So there ain’t no marks on my body.”

“I don’t mean to say anything against her memory.” Champ holds up one hand in a defensive posture. With the other, he gestures to the large mirror on the conference room wall. “Roll up your sleeve and take a look for yourself. Ginger noted the appearance of scars from minor cuts and bruises and a small tattoo on your arm. None of these marks were found on the civilian that was killed or any of the other dead men that Gamma Team cleaned from the scene. Following protocols, we’re now tracking down any and all soulmates and searching databases for your exact set of new marks.” He knows it isn’t good news. It isn’t good for the agency and it isn’t good for Jack. But, despite it being a long shot, it is now more likely than not that someone out there shares these marks with him. And that makes her both a liability and a potential target. Whoever she is.

Fuck.” Jack hisses bitterly, his shoulders jerking as he shuffles out of his sports coat and tosses it down so he can start rolling up his sleeve. “Can’t Ginger remove it?” He demands, not wanting marks on his body. He hasn’t had any since the day Abigail died and he doesn’t want some other woman’s scars or tattoos on his skin either. He doesn’t have a soulmate and he doesn’t want one.

“Soulmate scars don’t work like that.” He knows Jack knows it, but he also understands the younger man’s distress as he tears his sleeve back to inspect his skin. “As far as Ginger’s nanites are concerned, that’s just your skin. No imperfections about it.”

[dragonmarquise]

I was reading through some of your tags for the post and some of them caught my eye, specifically when you were talking Abt the ref and Felix thing. Why do you get angry Abt it????/gen I'm not trying to be rude, I'm generally all around New to the fandom and I wanna know why-

Okay so!! Honestly this is a fair question to ask, because anyone particularly new to the fandom or even the game in general isn’t going to know the whole context about this situation.

Short(ish) summary (also spoilers of course!): In the postgame, Red still appears at cypher spots, even though going by the story Red and Felix are the same person, and the red cyberhead was destroyed by the end of the game. Taking it at face value, some people interpret it as Red somehow coming back as a separate person from Felix. Which is a cool AU idea imo!

Unfortunately, a decent amount of people have a heavy preference towards Red over Felix, usually either because they’re too used to Red from playing as him for most of the game, or even because they see Felix as ugly/unattractive in comparison.

So then those people tend to use that AU as a way to replace Felix, basically (in my mind at least) throwing out Felix’s character development from the game in favor of Red. When from the canon story’s perspective, they’re the same damn person anyways. And like, I just find that really rude towards him, and I say this as a person who enjoys that AU too, though evidently in a different way from what other people are doing. D:

Longer rant with more details/complaints under the cut:

There are a few different variants of this AU, just to list a few scenarios:

Red is actually a somehow revived Faux, basically using the red cyberhead to hide his identity. Why he does this can vary: him wanting to actual repent for what happened and trying to start doing so by hiding his real identity, or even just hiding himself as he plots to get revenge on Felix and the rest of BRC.

Red is a copy (either complete or partial) of Felix’s mind during the time he spent stuck in the red cyberhead. Basically that converting the red cyberhead to preserve Felix’s head didn’t remove all of the systems/internals related to a normal cyberhead’s functions. The idea being maybe the Flesh Prince had to do a rush job due to needing to keep Felix’s head preserved as quickly as possible to prevent too much rotting/memory loss. Thus some systems are still there, reading Felix’s mind and later result in Red once the red cyberhead is put back together. I will admit I did talk about this scenario in a previous post of mine!

A fun one from a friend of mine: Red still existing turns out to be because a player of the actual BRC game managed to get isekai’d into the world, with them somehow getting put into a newly revived Red as his new "AI" mind. Then having to navigate the world and maybe even befriend BRC, trying to also convince them that he’s not suspicious (especially given his knowledge of the events of the game). Also dealing with how actually moving around and doing things as a writer firsthand is WAY different from just doing it in a video game, lol

Another one from a different friend: Red is “revived” by the Flesh Prince as a new lacky. Though it’s not “Red” from the game, he just found Faux’s old body and then put a completely new cyberhead on it with a basic AI, declaring it his new minion. Shenanigans ensue, probably. :P

But the one that a decent amount of people seem to prefer: Red being the one to experience most if not all of the game, connecting with the rest of BRC and becoming friends. Felix recovering his memories is still a thing here, and him basically taking the reigns once the endgame starts to defeat Faux for good. But then after that it’s revealed Felix still doesn’t have much of a friendship with the others, because it turned out that was all Red, as a separate mind/AI/etc. from Felix. So then in this version of the AU, Red is part of BRC because of the connections he made, while Felix leaves and goes back to being a solo writer because his only connection to BRC was them helping him recover his memories. It’s using Red as a complete replacement for Felix, even though canonically they’re the same person anyways.

And like… ultimately people will do whatever they want with AUs and stuff like this, I can’t force people to stop what they’re doing or agree with the criticisms I have here. And I will admit, I used to like the last point in a “WHOA that’d be a pretty cool twist!!” way, but then later thinking on it more, and realizing… no, actually, this feels like a shitty thing to do to the narrative, especially to poor Felix.

His whole thing is like!! He was friends but also rivals with DJ Cyber and Faux, until eventually going solo for All City, and even admitting he prefers to work alone. We don’t get details on why he feels that way, but we can imagine a ton of ideas for it: he has more of an ego than he lets on? He didn’t want DJ Cyber or Faux to get hurt during the path to All City, so he decides to just go for it by himself? He still genuinely thinks of them as his friends, but overall he’s generally a more aloof loner kind of person and that’s why he went solo? There’s a bunch of options!

Regardless of his reasons, he went solo for All City. He had a one night graffiti session with Faux afterwards, maybe to just check on him and catch up. But otherwise to me it implies there weren’t going to be too many more sessions like these in the future, be it with Faux or anyone else.

And then, Faux kills him. Faux’s own motivations for that are also another fascinating potential for cool fics/AUs/etc. But that’s maybe for another post. :P

Anyways! Felix is dead, but manages to get preserved and eventually revived as Red. Early on in the game, I believe right at the beginning of Chapter 2, Red decides to go up against DJ Cyber in order to find out about his own forgotten roots. And he actually starts to go off by himself, until Tryce stops him! Then Tryce tells him they’re doing this together as a crew, and the way I see it, Red is probably going, “Wait, you… want to still help me? Even if it means fighting against a guy like DJ Cyber? Really??”

Because! Again, my own interpretation, Red doesn’t have all his memories back, but I think Felix’s personality is still there, just subconsciously, y’know? “I gotta do this on my own, can’t rely on anyone else, don’t want others to get hurt because of me” etc. So this is imo one of the first big steps in Felix’s character development that I feel is going on throughout the game: learning that it’s okay to have your friends help you, and to help them out in return, sticking together until the very end and even beyond that!

I mean, just saying, Tryce and Bel join in with Vinyl and DJ Cyber to keep Mech!Faux open for a final attack during his boss fight. That’s some serious friendship right there, willing to put yourself on the line for a friend!!

So then, to basically say, “No, most/all of that was actually just Red, and Red and Felix are separate people so Felix doesn’t need to stick around with BRC anymore” is like…

Okay, pardon my language here, but it’s effectively throwing out Felix’s whole character arc, and frankly it’s fucking insulting towards him!! Guy has the power of badass friendship and hella illegal graffiti on his side, and some people wanna rip that away from him?! Come the fuck on!!

And to emphasize, I used to like this idea as like, an amazing didn’t-see-it-coming twist. But then thinking on it more, it just really isn’t fair to Felix! At all! Especially since I really do think he has an interesting character arc, going from insisting on doing things solo, to gaining new friends and going All City a second time with, in his words, “a whole crew of the best homies around”.

Literally, he says that at the hideout in the postgame! I’m kinda paraphrasing based on memories, but that’s actually what he says more or less.

Also, a lot of people in the fandom seem to really enjoy this AU specifically as a way to replace Felix with Red in their minds/headcanons/stories. Some of them just ended up very attached to Red because of playing as him for most of the game anyways. Which, y’know, that’s reasonable at least! But then for others, they latch onto this AU because of having a genuine dislike (and in some cases, outright hatred) towards Felix.

From my observations and experiences, if it’s not because they got too attached to Red, it’s mostly rooted in people not finding Felix “attractive”. That’s it, possibly the most selfish fucking reason a person could have for wanting to forcefully throw out a character’s development, like what the hell man.

imo it also reeks of a problem that some other fandoms tend to have: dissing more masculine men in the cast, in favor of the more feminine/twink men. Some people may debate on whether Red/Faux would count as a twink, especially with how the term has been watered down recently (fun fact, it was meant to be mainly used in an LGBT+ context, so specifically for LGBT+ men who fit the appearance!!). But, I hope people reading this get the idea of what I’m trying to point out here. :/

Another thing about how people are trying to use Red to replace Felix: they treat this AU like it’s canon, or that they think it should be canon. Even though it’s not, that’s the point of calling it an AU!! Like I mentioned way earlier, I’m not going to stop anyone from going into this sort of AU, even if I personally have criticism for it if it’s handled in a certain way. But what I’m not going to let slide is people trying to force an AU to be considered canon and the way it should be.

The point of an AU is to have fun with possibilities, not try to reject and replace the original canon completely!! D:

Anyways, this is uh. Pretty long as is. So I want to wrap up with at least what I personally like about the potential for a “Red comes back as a separate person” AU. Which is evidently very different from what most people enjoy about that kind of AU.

I mentioned this in my old post I linked to earlier in this post, but basically: Red is not used as a replacement for Felix, but he exists alongside him and the rest of BRC. They could even become like brothers to one another. Red being the “younger” brother who is (quite literally) new to life and wants to go out there and explore and experience all the good stuff, even in a chaotic way. And then Felix being the “older” brother, still being chill like he was before, yet also more responsible and cautious because of what he went through, thus wanting to make sure Red is safe and sort of be his mentor through these things. Felix maybe even feels like he's the main reason Red is here at all, so then he feels responsible with guiding Red and making sure he turns out alright, y'know?

… At least, that’s more or less what I would want to aim for. Them coexisting and even getting more character development for the both of them! I would take more about the specifics of how this would all work. But I do have fan fics and other stuff I want to do someday to share those ideas more. Thus I will stop here for today, hopefully I will be able to get around to those fan fics and stuff in the future! Maybe.

So yeah, that about wraps up my thoughts on this topic? I probably came off as too hostile at some points, sorry about that. It’s just, I think this particular version of the AU is especially frustrating when it’s coming from people who are clearly only using it to replace the “ugly” Felix with the more “attractive” Red. Sometimes it’s subtle, other times it’s more obvious, but either way it’s just damn annoying for me at this point. :(

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Wicked Games 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You’re not ready but you have to be. The taxi ride doesn’t give you much time to get yourself together. You tip the driver and thank them before you get out to face the music.

The red brick building lures you back to reality. You barely get a step into the apartment before your name rings out. Barrett appears at the end of the hall and you shut the door.

You sigh and hang up your keys and purse. You keep your phone in your hand and face him. 

“Hey, I called work. Let them know I’d be starting late.” He sways at the threshold to the front room. He’s nervous, maybe even guilty. You ignore that tickle in the back of your head. 

You’re silent as you veer into the kitchen. He follows and looms behind you. He teeters in the doorway as you put your phone on the counter. You focus on making another coffee. 

“Are you feeling okay? You look tired.” He’s pandering just like he always does after a fight. He won’t apologise, he’ll just act like a dog with its tail between its legs. 

“Yeah, I’m tired. Exhausted. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure to wash my mug out.” 

You open the cupboard and take out a cup. He sniffs. “Honey, please, I swear, it wasn’t about the mug. I’m stressed and I miss you--” 

“So, you call me lazy? You yell at me?” You slam down the lid of the machine. The surge of anger quickly swells and erases the night already washed away with the vodka. “I told you, if you ever yell at me--” 

“I know, I know. It won’t happen again. I was emotional. I was stupid. I don’t know why I started it all. Really. I think...” he shakes his head and drops his chin. He looks up at you shyly and gives a sad smile. “I miss you. I guess having you mad at me is better than you ignoring me so--” 

“I wasn’t ignoring you. I asked for five minutes to change and you wouldn’t get off my back.” 

“Yeah.” He rubs his cheek and mopes. He stares at you and you stare back. You wait. The air roils between you as he thinks. You see the frantic glimmer in his eyes. “Oh, uh... I’m sorry?” 

“Are you apologising or are you just saying what I want to hear?” You challenge. 

“No, I’m sorry,” he says more firmly. 

“For?”  

His brows furrow and his lips part. “For... uh... babe... you know... what I did.” 

The machine quits grinding and you throw your hands up. You turn around and pour yourself a cup. You inhale the scent and it eases the hangover thumping in your skull. 

“Just go to work.” 

“Babe--” 

“Take some coffee, I don’t care,” you swipe up your phone and shuffle toward the other door. “But go. We need space.” 

He doesn’t speak until you reach the doorway, “I’m trying.” 

You don’t respond. You go to the bedroom and shut the door. You need a shower and sleep. You want to wash off yesterday and forget it all.  

You can hear Barrett in the kitchen. Your phone vibrates and you check the screen. You expect a call-in but find a text instead. It’s from a strange number. The message makes your heart skip. 

‘Last night was amazing. Would love to see you again. Let me know when’s good for you.’ 

Your hand shakes and you gape at the text. You tap your thumb to expand the options and hit the center; ‘block’. Last night did not happen. You put your coffee on the nightstand and chew your lip. 

As soon as the message swooshes away, another flies in. It’s Wendy; ‘hey, you good? You left before I woke up.’ 

Your blood slows and your head pulses. You have to sit down. You grimace at your phone. She doesn’t remember either. She has no idea you didn’t go back to her place. Good. That means it can all stay forgotten. 

You press reply and steady the phone with both hands. ‘Sorry, had to get back. Barrett called. Thanks for the night out.’ 

You hit send. As soon as your fingertips touches the screen, your stomach flips. You throw your phone on the bed and race to the door. You swing it open and scurry into the bathroom.

You hurl into the toilet as your husband calls from the kitchen, “babe? Everything okay? Want to me to stay home and take care of you?” 

You groan and lean your head on your arm. You heave and swallow back another wave of nausea.

“Just go!” You snarl back. 

Maybe it’s what he did. Maybe it’s what you can’t remember you did but you need him gone. You just need a chance to get your head straight and figure it all out.  Not just what happened or didn’t happen, but what’s going to happen next.

You can’t keep doing this with Barrett. This is the last fight you’re having about a goddamn dish. 

[gaysindistress]

As Good a Reason - six

pairing: ⚠️Dark!Mob!Bucky⚠️ x reader

summary: when Brock Rumlow picks a fight he can’t win with the White Wolf, he drags his Snake back. Six years after she ran away, Y/N Rumlow is faced with a choice to make; do as she’s told and kill the White Wolf or overtake her father instead because spite’s as good a reason to take his power?

warnings: ⚠️Dark!Mob!Bucky⚠️, cursing, Y/N getting slapped and being held at gunpoint, this part gets dark so please read with caution, mentions of creepy fathers (aka Brock all of time), feral Bucky, character death (two to be exact)

word count: 3k

A/n: Im moving states this weekend so the next parts are going to be delayed. I won’t be posting Monday or Wednesday but after that, it should go back to normal!

Tag list @kandis-mom @casa-boiardi @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @cakesandtom @unaxv @vonalyn @hidden-treasures21 @emerald-writes

five | series masterlist

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest. The women in the banners are not how Y/N is supposed to look. They are merely for aesthetic purposes and Y/N is written for anyone to see themselves in her.

“Hel…Hello?” Victoria stutters into the phone with her eyes trained on her father. He nods, urging her to stay on the phone and keep talking like they’re negotiating the release of a hostage. 

“Is that you, Victoria Marie?” the other voice asks with a sinister smile in their voice.

“Let me talk to Y/N.”

The voice hums, thinking about the imaginary options they have before settling on a monotone, “No.”

“Please…” she pauses, looking to Brock for the name, “James. I just want to make sure she’s okay.” “If anything, she’s the one who needs to see if YOU’RE okay.”

“Then let me talk to her.”

James sucks his teeth for a moment, “I’m assuming Daddy dearest is next to you.”

Brock shakes his head, telling Victoria to say no and she does. 

“Don’t lie to me, Vikki. I don’t like when people lie to me.”

Victoria corrects her mistake before Brock can stop her and he lets out a frustrated sigh. 

“Good girl,” he ends his portion of the call and assumingly passes the phone off to Y/N.

“Vic?”

“Y/N oh my god, are you okay?” she asks frantically. 

“I’m fine,” the strain is evident in Y/N’s voice but she keeps a collected composure, “how are you? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m in a little pain but I’m okay.”

“Good. That’s good to hear.”

“Y/N, come home. Please, it's not safe. Dad told me..”

The woman on the other side interrupts her sister, “Dad?”

Victoria freezes but keeps up with her ardent pleading with Y/N to come home, find a way around it all, and get to safety. Y/N listens but doesn’t acknowledge a thing her sister is saying for it’s all lies. The moment Victoria said dad instead of “our father” or “Brock”, she knew that something was up and anything that was about to come out of her mouth would be a direct copy of whatever Brock forced her to rehearse. 

James reaches over and presses the mute button before saying what they’re both thinking, “It’s a setup.”

“Clearly.”

He rolls his own eyes, “Get her to agree to a meeting.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you need a way into his house,” he states as if it’s the most obvious thing and unmutes their side before she can answer. 

“Y/N, seriously please come home,” Victoria’s voice cracks with emotion as she finishes her tearful statement. 

“James won’t let me without a meeting between him and Brock.”

“Okay! We can set that up.”

James feeds her the details;

Two days from now, 8pm sharp at the Rumlow house. 

Victoria agress on her father’s behalf and both sisters, acting as mouthpieces for the men controlling them, say their goodbyes before hanging up. 

James takes the phone from Y/N and gives her his permanent wolfish grin. 

“I’m proud of you.”

She deflates into her chair, sinking into it and trying to make herself appear smaller so as to not be seen by his watchful eye. However under the eye of this wolf, there is nothing that goes unnoticed by him, especially not his favorite little snake. 

“What’s wrong?” he tries to fake concern but it falls flat. 

“Nothing.”

“Try again.”

Y/N sits up and leans forward as she over enunciates the word, “Nothing.”

Mimicking her actions, he leans forward too and meets her on her level, “Try again, little snake.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?”

With as much disgust as she can, she spits out, “Because I’m not your little snake. I’m no one’s snake.”

His grin turns sour and a sinister look takes over his face, one that he dons when the White Wolf controls his actions. He goes from charming to alarming in seconds but Y/N has come to learn that showing fear will only end badly for her so she matches it as best as she can. They stare at each other, waiting for the other back down but neither do. She can sense his hands itching to make a physical attack but they stay in his lap as long as she doesn’t move. It’s similar to how a wolf might stalk its prey; waiting for the kill shot but she is not a bunny to be eaten. 

She is the Snake after all; quiet and patient, waiting for the moment to strike. 

James relents and sits back into his seat with a look she can’t figure out. There is no anger but there is no joy. There is not a hint of anything that might give her a clue to what he’s feeling but his next sentence clues her into exactly what’s brewing beneath the surface.  

“That’s where you’re wrong. You are because you’re mine.”

“We’ll see,” she ends the conversation and gets up, leaving him to fume at the idea that’s resisting him even more than before. 

Mere days ago she would’ve jumped at the chance to be with him however the more he tries to control her, the less she wants to submit. The more he exercises what power he has over her, the more that she's going to fight to get away. 

But then again this isn’t the average man and her push back only makes him want her more. 

“I need you. Now.”

Steve raises his brows with a smirk and glances at Sam who matches his expression. Y/N rolls her eyes and disappears back into the dark hallway she came from. 

“Now.”

He follows after with a swagger in his step and it reaches his head when she slams him against the wall. He lets out a deep chuckle, craning his head up to avoid the blade that rests under his jaw. 

“Kinky.”

“Shut the fuck up. I’m not trying to sleep you, you filthy pig,” she sneers at him, pressing the blade further into the soft skin, “I need a favor.”

“A favor?” he parrots back as his eyes dart down to her lips. 

“Before the meeting, I’m going to sneak in and get my siblings out. I need you to get them to safety.”

“Why would I do that?” “Because I will slit your throat right now if you say no,” she says, pressing the knife hard enough to draw a thin line of blood.

Steve freezes and grimaces at the feeling before agreeing, “Okay, okay. I’ll do it. I’ll even get Sam to help.”

She flashes him a devilish smile and backs away, keeping the knife pointed at him. 

“That’s not the only thing you’re planning on doing is it?” he asks as he touches the wound she made, drawing his fingers away and making a face at the blood that’s dripping down his fingers. 

“You might want to get a bandaid,” she throws at him as she turns, leaving him alone in the hallways and disappears into the shadows of the prison they call home. 

Cyanide wasn’t her first choice. 

If she had her way, she would’ve picked something that took longer so she could watch Brock slowly lose control over his own body. It would’ve brought her great joy to watch him lose the control that he exercised over everyone else but she didn’t have that time. 

Cyanide acted fast, too fact for some but for the Snake, it would work just fine. 

The little glass bottle is tucked into the breast pocket of her vest, the safest place it could be until it found its rightful place in Brock’s body. Her feet make no sound as she drops from the window into his office. Just like she had hoped, it’s empty, save for her generational anger and spite. 

Beyond the doors, she can hear his voice and John’s arguing over something that seems insignificant in comparison to what she;s doing. Within seconds, she spots the glass bottle filled with his favorite amber liquid and she’s pulling off the cap before she lets out her first breath. Taking out the bottle and taking off the cap, she’s pouring the pale blue poison into the bottle as she lets out her second breath. On her third, she’s putting the bottle back and slipping back out the window. 

Inching her way across the ledge, she drops herself onto Victoria’s balcony where Steve is waiting for her. He goes to ask her what she was doing but he doesn’t get the chance. Y/N is picking the lock and pushing open the door in a matter of seconds. Something sits horribly wrong with him but he doesn’t have the time to question it. 

Laying in her bed is Victoria covered in bandages and with numerous machines around her. Y/N wrinkles her nose at the sight, willing her tears to absorb back into her body. Sam opens the bedroom doors to the sight of Steve pointing a gun at her; however , it's dropped when the threat of Brock proves to be false. Wordlessly the three work to undo whatever is holding Victoria to the bed and Steve scoops her up into his arms as Y/N slips back out of the french doors. 

In the next room, Sam meets her as she’s whispering, arguing with Niklaus. 

“What? Are you stupid?” Niklaus growls at her as she levels her signature bored look at him. 

“Go with him. Now. He’ll get you out of here before all hell breaks loose,” she tells him as she pushes him towards the door. He keeps trying to argue with her and she’s not having it. When he’s too preoccupied to worry about Sam taking him, she stabs a syringe into his neck and he goes limp in Sam’s arms. 

“Jesus, was that really necessary?” Sam groans as he lugs Niklaus’ limp body onto his shoulders. 

“Oh I’m sorry did you want Brock to hear him and catch us?”

He glares at her and keeps his mouth shut as he makes his way back towards the entrance. Y/N slips into her old room and finds clothes to change into. Re Emerging from the room dressed in loose fitting cargo pants, a white shirt, and a dark wash jean jacket, she spots John at the top of the staircase. She throws herself against the wall and hopes to whatever god is listening that he didn’t see her. 

Her prayers are ignored. 

“Y/N?” he asks as he peers at where he saw her and makes his way in that direction. She tries to slip back into her room but the clicking of the lock tips him off to her location and he grabs her by the wrist, yanking towards him. He traps her hands in one of his and with the other points his gun at her. Narrowing his blue eyes at her, hurt and betrayal flashes before he can turn him into a wall of stone. 

“What are you doing here?” “There’s a meeting about to take place.” “What are you doing here?” he asks again. 

She repeats her first answer much to his dismay but he lets it go to further question her, “How could you take his side?”

That hurt and betrayal from earlier sneaks into his voice and it takes all her strength to not roll her eyes at him. The cold gun against her temple isn’t a bad reminder either to not piss him off. 

“I didn’t exactly have a choice.”

“You always have a choice,” his voice wobbles as he grows more emotional and his grip grows tighter, “We could’ve gotten Victoria and Klaus back without you making that stupid deal. You didn’t have to do this!”

The more frantic he becomes, the harder the barrel digs into her skin and she winces at the feeling. Her reaction shakes him back to reality and he lowers the gun. 

“I… I’m sorry,” he tells her as tucks his gun away and uses his free hand to caress her face, “I was so worried about you. All the things I heard about him, I just.. I was so scared for you. Did he…hurt you? Touch you?” She suppresses the urge to cringe at the feeling and puts on a sincere face, “No, he didn’t do anything.”

John smiles a little, “Good. I’d have to kill him if he did.”

Y/N looks down in disgust but he mistakes it as something else and leads her by her chin to look back up at him. Her worst nightmare comes true as he leans down to kiss her. His rough lips try to get her to kiss him back and she opens her mouth as he tries to deepen the kiss. 

A fatal mistake for him. 

Biting down as hard as she can, her teeth tear into his bottom lip and blood rushes forward. He jerks away in pain and touches his bleeding lip as he can’t believe that she would do that. He’s met with the sight of her smiling with his blood dripping from her lips and it strokes a fire long dead inside him. He back hands her so hard that her cheek splits and she falls to the ground. The ring his father gave him just before he died glistens with her blood but he doesn’t care. 

“You bitch,” he growls at her and goes to yank her up but another pair of hands pull her up and away from him. 

The voice she dreaded the most pretended to soothe and comfort her, “It’s, okay, baby girl. Dad’s here.”

Her mother never cried a lot. She took the punches and violent threats that Brock threw at her but she never fought back. Y/N used to hate her mother for it, wishing that she would’ve done something to help her children but she never did. Jasmine always nursed her wounds in secret and put on a brave face for her daughter and her siblings. In hindsight, Y/N knew that she had no choice but to endure for the safety of her children. Fighting back meant that his wrath would be directed at them and a punch hurt a child more than a grown woman. One night after a practically bad lashing, Jasmine held Y/N and wept for hours on end. 

As she wept, she told her daughter that “someone who loves you wouldn’t do this.”

Now Y/N knew that to be turned and it took everything in her to now scream, cry, fight with all of her might to get out of her father’s arms. 

Holding her in a bruising grip, Brock pretends to comfort her and whispers threats veiled as reassurance into her hair as he walks to the office. John is grumbling behind them as he holds a handkerchief to his bleeding lip but no such thing was offered to her as her cheek bleeds as well. It stains the dark fabric of Brock’s shirt but whether he notices or cares, she can’t be sure. 

James and Steve are waiting for them in the office, sitting as they exchange words in another language. Steve stops mid sentence when he sees the trio walking in and James follows his line of sight with fire in his pale blue eyes. He licks his lips as he reigns in his emotions and settles into his chair against the wishes of his heart. Or what’s left of it. 

Brock makes a show of seating Y/N in his chair and tends to her wounds, a cut on her cheek from John’s ring. Steve looks to his boss for his reaction and to his surprise, there is only a murderous look upon his face. 

James knows better than to make a comment about it and instead moves to the top of the meeting, “How do you propose we solve our ‘little’ tiff?”

Brock lets out a deep sigh as he places a bandaid on her cheek, pushing too hard as he does so, “Give me my daughter back.”

“No. I like her, I want to keep her.”

“She isn’t a toy, Mr.Barnes. She’s a human.”

“I never said she wasn’t,” James says cooly, “But that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want to give her up and especially not to a man like you.”

Brock’s jaw tightens as he turns to face James, “What do you want for her?”

A wolfish smirk, feral and dangerous, spreads on his plump lips, “Your head.”

“My what?”

“You heard me.”

Brock scoffs at his request, “That’s ridiculous.”

“So is the way that you hunted her for six years but never found her until I gave you a shred of information,” James mocks him as he stands.

Y/N’s eyes narrow at the revelation. He had led Brock to her? “I knew where she was the whole time.” her father counters. 

James shrugs his shoulders but the pure predator look doesn’t leave his unnatural eyes, “You know what else is ridiculous? The fact that I can see the disgusting thoughts that you think when you see her in your eyes.”

Brock doesn’t answer and shakes his head to wordlessly combat the accusation. 

“We can all see it. For a man who claims to be her father, you sure would end up in hell for the thoughts that pass through your mind.”

Y/N can’t tell if he is telling the truth or just riling up her father but either way she sees her chance to slip away. Steve is faster than John and has him on his knees within seconds as she rushes to stand behind James. Instead of tucking her behind him like she had hoped, he pins her back to his chest and presses a knife she hadn’t seen to her neck. His hot breath on her neck sends shivers down her spine but her body goes completely still when the knife makes a small cut in her soft skin. Breathing hard to keep the fear below the surface, Y/N squeezes her eyes shut and wills herself to keep breathing. James licks up the blood that trails down her neck and she can almost feel the sinister intentions that he has. 

“She’s sweet, sweeter than anything I’ve ever tasted,” he looks Brock directly in the eye as he chuckles and wipes her blood from her lips, “I can see why you wanted her.”

“You’re sick.”

He shrugs, “maybe but there’s no one worse than you, Brock. You didn’t even try to deny it.”

Y/N trembles in his arms and he quietly shushes her before diving back into his onslaught on Brock, “Do you know things I’ve heard about you? I would tell everyone all of the awful things you’ve done but I think you should. There’s nothing better than the monster admitting to their own wrong doings. So go on, tell everyone all of the terrible and disgusting things you’ve done.”

“I don’t… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Brock tries to protect himself but it’s no use against the White Wolf. 

“No?” James parrots, “Did you forget? Did it slip your mind that you’ve kidnapped and beaten your children's mothers? Or did you forget that you killed all three of their mothers because they weren’t compliant anymore? Or was it that you’ve abused your children in too many ways to count? 

“I didn’t do any of that.”

“You can’t lie your way out of this.”

“It’s not lying if it’s not true.”

“Tony Stark would say differently.”

Brock visibly freezes at the mention of that name. 

“He told me everything: everything you did to LeeAnn, Elena, and Jasmine. Oh Jasmine, you were the devil to that poor woman,” James cranes his neck to look at Y/N, “Why don’t you tell your DAUGHTER what you did to Jasmine?”

Brock locks his jaw and stares ahead without a word. 

Y/N deflates in his arms but he grips her tighter so she doesn’t fall. 

“Do you want me to do it? I won’t be nice if I do it.” “I didn’t do anything to that bitch that she didn’t deserve.”

James tuts at him, “now is that any way to talk about your dead wife? Oh wait, she wasn’t your wife, she was Tony’s wife. You got jealous and took her because why would anyone not want you? I can’t imagine how angry you must have been when you found out she was pregnant with his child, a sweet baby girl. That’s why you killed him, isn’t it?”

“What are you talking about?” Y/N whispers to herself more than anything. 

James leans closer to her ear, “Brock killed your parents.”

A single tear falls down her face and she allows herself to find comfort in the man behind her. She turns to hide her face in his chest and she can feel it swell with triumph at her actions. 

Brock tries to defend himself but James will not have it, “No. There is nothing on God's green earth that could excuse that transgression. I hope for your sake that Y/N gets to you before I do because I demand a pound of flesh for what you did to her.”

Brock clenched his jaw and the muscles flex as he mulls over the threat in James’ words. 

Satisfied with the fear he’s planted in Brock, James turns his attention to Y/N and inspects the damage to her face. “Who did this to you?” he mummers into her ear as he presses gentle kisses to the broken flesh. 

She tells him what he wants and feels him make a gesture to Steve. John tries to plead with him to save his life but Steve’s cold heart does not care for his words and a shot rings out. She flinches, earning her a tighter hug from James and more promises to keep reconciling the wrongs that have been done to her. 

“What do you want from me?” Brock’s words are muffled to her ears but James’ voice is crystal clear. 

“Ideally you’d kill yourself but I don’t see that happening so I’ll settle for letting you disappear. Get out of New York and find a hole to crawl into for the rest of your life. If I hear so much as one whisper about you, I will hunt you down, drag your pathetic ass out of hiding, and butcher you like the pig that you are.”

“I’ll do it but I want my daughter back.”

“No,” the harsh word rumbles in James’ chest. 

“I want my daughter back,” He tries again. 

“You have two hours to get out.”

With that James, Steve, and Y/N walk out of the office, leaving Brock to lick his wounds and plan a way to get out before the White Wolf returns. 

However it doesn’t take two hours for Brock's life to come to an end. 

Fuming that he’s lost, he pours a drink of his favored amber drink. A bitter almond taste fills his mouth and he spits it out as the horror sets in. His body starts to betray him and he begins to lose control of it. Twitching and seizing, Brock cries out in his mind as the poison takes over. He falls from his chair, landing with a thud on the ground as foam leaks out of his mouth. 

The Snake struck without him noticing and now he has paid the price.

[yunarim]

⇢ ⁺ SYNOPSIS ˖ I wonder if maybe one day, when I'm a Fairy Godmother, I can go back and visit the princessess again. ಇ. INSPIRED BY ˖ 'disney princess: my fairytale adventure' in which main heroine becomes the Fairy Godmother's apprentice who helps disney princessess stop a dark spell that has been casted over the kingdoms. what will happen if she suddenly enters TWISTED WONDERLAND?

┆original take on YUU and RSA — TAGS : female reader (she/her pronouns), lowkey character & magic study, third person perspective, working tags — AO3

﹒﹒⟢﹒PREVIEW ˖

“Ah, could it be my dear Sprites turned into little mischievous Imps again?..” 

Yuu wonders, observing a mysterious mirror which just appeared in the Main Hall. Princesses portraits look as magnificent as they always were, and the crystals above golden inwrought mirror frames seem normal. 

She most certainly did not cast any wrong spells, and yet her magic wand starts resonating with strange energy waves coming from a new obscure mirror. Could it be that the princesses are in danger again? 

∘₊✧─ And always remember, young lady… If they’d lost all their faith, you couldn’t be there. And there you are!

This is right. There’s someone waiting for her to make their dreams come true. 

Yuu sees a hand in a welcoming gesture, a grip on her magic wand tightens, and she makes a step forward without any hesitation.

Every miracle takes a little time, after all.

— NOTES ˖

It’s alright if you haven't played Disney Princess: My Fairytale Adventure because I’m here to explain! 

The game dwells on Cinderella, The Little Mermaid, Rapunzel, Beauty and the Beast, The Princess and the Frog Disney movies. Actually there’s another game called Disney Princess: Enchanted Journey where MC enters The Little Mermaid, Cinderella, Aladdin, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, Beauty and the Beast Disney realms. 

It’s implied MC knows the plot of the disney movies. In this work Yuu knows all the Disney movies existing up to today. I’ll also make a lot of references to not only listed but other disney movies too!  This is an original take on RSA and a great part of the fic will be devoted to RSA and its characters I created with the help of my dear friend. But NRC remains the crucial part of the story.

Yuu wields a magic wand, and it’s pretty much similar to the original game except for the fact I changed the design.

A lot of magic study! Yuu is quite a remarkable sorceress but she’s not imbalanced.

Yuu doesn’t remember her past, why and when she became the Fairy Godmother’s apprentice, but I’ll dwell on it as the story progresses. 

And finally, I hope you’ll have fun reading this ^^ I may be slow with writing chapters but I hope I’ll manage to post one chapter per month!

© yunarim 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧.