#(she obviously gave it a thought in spite of not giving in as deep down she's unfulfilled in the harem and wants a safe life)

[mc-critical]

Gosh, this Daye/Nigar scene is just so great. Daye knows about Nigar having kissed Ibrahim for quite some time now, but she doesn't berate her for it. She waits until after the wedding to talk to her and comfort her, attempting to convince her in this strict yet nurturing manner that she'll be better off with Matrakci; that she'll be better off married and with the new family she'd create (even if that means being with someone she doesn't love). She'd be better off taking care of someone, being surrounded by people she's fond of (like the future children in her arms) or might grow fond of sooner or later (like Matrakci) in her own home instead of withering alone in the ruthless cold harem that she and Daye might be too used to but it still isn't fully theirs, it can't be. Daye may have Valide but she's still alone. Nigar may be sought by many but she's still alone. Nigar and Daye's entire fates hinge on these people and it's uncertain what other cruel order, what other unbearable appointment in which palace will they issue next. Marriage seems like the one way for Nigar to get out of this unending circle to Daye as she at least can still do that. And the love and sadness and pain possibly residing in her heart? They may hurt but even they can be forgotten "with time" (oh look at that, yet another character having the "moving on with time" coping mechanism!), they have to be for her own good. This is what has apparently helped Daye to cope with any pain, so it should help Nigar as well. This is how Daye has forgotten, moved forward and latched onto what's left to her with knowing resignation, so Nigar should do so as well. And here is Nigar who still tries her all to keep it together in these last few days, weeks, months, but barely manages it. She can't let anyone else find out about the full extent of what concerns her, as she may really be done for then; she's burdened with that secret forever, with her feelings that won't have a response, as this is what Ibrahim had repeatedly demonstrated to her up until then (little did she know, though...). She can't even end it all, having to keep on in an uncertain, forced upon her marriage which seems like the only thing that can make her forget, but it isn't, she never thought it was. It just adds more salt to her wound, it only brings her more pain. Yet the one person she breaks in front of is Daye. In this moment, she's the one who she trusts the most and the one who provides at least a little understanding, at least a little guidance despite of it all. So she leans on Daye while she reveals her own turmoil, unaware that Daye also knows more about Nigar's turmoil than Nigar realizes and that might be also why she's saying all of those things. They both empathize with each other's turmoils. They both are moved, letting themselves go to an embrace. It lasts only for a short while but that's precisely where its power lies: there can be one short moment before they have to assume their roles again, before everything is to proceed as planned.

[revehae]

lust and war

pairing ↠ werewolf!jennie x (f) reader x vampire!lisa

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, light dubcon, mentions of blood, biting, vampire!lisa, g!p jennie, werewolf!jennie

summary ↠ for two people that hate each other, lisa manoban and jennie kim have very similar interests. you don't understand the rivalry between the two girls, not until they lock eyes on you and compete for your attention.

wc ↠ 5.0k

a/n ↠ part 5/5 of the legend has it series!

don't like it, don't read.

jennie thought lisa was the spawn of satan. 

lisa thought jennie was the wicked witch of the west.

for reasons unbeknownst to you. it was your first day on campus. but you were quickly made uneasy, unable to ignore the whispers of students you brushed past. fresh meat, was what they called you. for lisa and jennie.

you tried your best to put up a front and act as if their whispers didn’t bother you, strutting through the halls with your head held up high, but deep inside you were wondering what the hell that meant - and what in tarnation did it mean for you.

when you walked into class, you deliberately snagged a seat at the back of the room. it was obscure, which was perfect. no need to draw any more attention to yourself than there already was.

then the unimaginable happened - one of the girls (you couldn’t tell them apart from each other yet) walked inside and sashayed right to the end of the room, stealing the seat squarely beside yours. you were in disbelief.

she surveyed you with unfamiliarity, looking you up and down. “fresh meat?”

“um, yeah,” you replied tamely, flitting your attention to the textbook on your desk or otherwise you would drown under her hooded stare like an anchor in water. you preferred to play it cool, because you wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing she was getting to you.

in spite of how withdrawn you were, the girl introduced herself with a beaming smile, “jennie kim. what’s your name, darling?”

your heart fluttered a little at the petname. coming from someone as beautiful and sweet-sounding as her, it was very welcome and made you giggle. but it also gave you a hunch on what this whole thing was about. still, you gave her your name.

jennie repeated your name in a flirtatious purr that had your attention, but you ignored it for your own sake. she added, “that’s pretty. since you’re obviously a newbie, i wanna give you a rundown about the people here - the professors, the student body, every asshole you’re gonna meet here. i’d hate for a cute thing like you to fall into the crowd.”

for the first time, you genuinely looked into jennie’s hypnotizing eyes, and felt as if you were being put under a spell. a part of you later worried that you might have actually been, because you gave in and let jennie give you the gossip. she told you everything; from the habits of the professors to the red flags of every jock to the personalities of the cheerleaders. you appreciated the heads-up and found it to be generally informative. 

then, she told you about lisa. that she was a snake that would stab you in the back the first chance she got and she was someone to be avoided at all costs. given her tone of voice and choice of words, it couldn't've been any more obvious that her beef with lisa was personal, but you didn’t dare voice your realization and accepted her words with a gracious nod.

“you know,” she started not too much later. “one of my friends are throwing a party friday night and since i think you would be a nice addition to my crowd, you’re invited as my plus one. i bet they’d like you.”

the feeling of her fingers on your shoulder nearly made you shudder and your breath got caught in your throat. “yeah?”

“yeah,” she repeated, smiling at you, and reduced her voice to a sultry whisper. “are you down?”

you bit your lip in hesitation, mulling over the offer. everything about jennie kim screamed trouble, but she was too alluring for you to give a damn. the textbook definition of temptation. needless to say, you would be going. “yeah,” you replied with a nod, because she had won you over. “i’m down.”

“good,” jennie chirped, pleased. “give me your number and i’ll text you the deets.”

you did as told, but with one thought racing through your brain. what am i getting myself into?

on the night of the party, lisa and her friends were gathered around the couch. jennie’s friend, jisoo, was also her friend, because jisoo was everybody’s friend. so essentially everyone was invited and few people were very off-limits. perks of being sweet and popular.

“streets are saying lisa and her girlfriend have fresh meat,” announced ryujin, parading over to the couch and taking a seat beside lisa, who shot her a glare that said more than words alone could convey.

ten sneered, “let’s see how long this one lasts.”

“oh, please, ten. what ever happened to goldilocks?” lisa retorted. 

at the mention of said golidlocks, ten was grinning from ear to ear, and replied blithely, “i think you mean johnny. and for your information, he’s a brunet now. he’s over there.”

the four glanced over to where ten had pointed, mixed reactions settling in on the couch as they watched the brunet, formly known as goldilocks, chat up somebody else. it went without saying that lisa had constructed a friend group of players, but the amusing part about ten and his latest conquest was that he seemed to be getting beat at his own game. lisa shook her head in disapproval. and maybe a smidge of disappointment.

“shame,” lisa muttered under her breath. “i liked him better blonde.”

ten rolled his eyes.

seulgi squinted. “hey, lisa. don’t look now, but i think your new plaything just got here.”

ever the disobedient soul, lisa glanced into the crowd until her eyes eventually fell on you. then, she broke into a wide smile. just as ten had his latest conquest, you would be hers. she was deeply determined and built on resolve.

“ooh, is that a smile i see?” rosé teased, materializing out of thin air with a lighter and a bag of marijuana, which her group of friends on the couch immediately began to reach for.

lisa explained, “me and that feral bitch are tied. and before any says anything - because i know you motherfuckers will - yes, again. i have to win her to break the tie.”

as her eyes continued to follow you, her lips tugged into a downward frown when she noticed you fall into jennie’s company. “fleabag,” she grumbled under his breath.

“and it’s gone.” rosé shook her head, disappointed, and not surprised. and also somewhat entertained while she followed her friend’s gaze.

“i said don’t look now,” seulgi muttered. 

ryujin took a drag, blowing out a shroud of smoke, then asked, “uh oh, what happened now?”

“jennie got to her first,” lisa huffed, crossing her arms. “i’m assuming that’s how she got the invite. but no worries, that just means puppy girl’s done half of the job for me.”

from across the room, you could feel eyes on you, but you figured it was because of the attention drawn to you that came with being an affiliate of the likes of jennie kim. that, or you were paranoid.

maybe it was a distasteful combination of both.

“you look cute,” complimented jennie, beaming at you with rays even sunshine couldn’t match. 

you had to admit, she was good-looking too. good-looking was an understatement, but from her perfect smile to her stylish selection of clothes, you were rendered speechless when you looked at her. she was like the epitome of beauty, or maybe a goddess. something supernatural, if you believed in the supernatural.

“thanks,” you chirped.

jennie’s smile never left her lips, but she arched a brow, brushing her fingers against your bare arm. “aren’t you going to tell me i’m cute, too?”

cute didn’t do her justice. you sucked in a breath and said, “you don’t need me to tell you that. everybody’s looking at you.”

“no, honey, they’re looking at you,” jennie told you, as if she knew it for a fact. which singlehandedly confirmed that you weren’t crazy and people were definitely watching you.

the next second, one of jennie’s friends swept in and declared she needed to tell her something, and jennie uttered something to you about not getting lost before she was pulled into oblivion. 

you glanced around, as if you were looking for someone, but there was no point considering you certainly didn’t know anybody in the area. you went to the kitchen to grab a drink to down for some liquid courage and decided to maneuver around the place.

outside was a better place for you. the air was less stuffy but nobody was afraid to bring the party outside, which meant you weren’t missing anything. you saw a group of students flock around some dude attempting to do a keg stand and shook your head, observing from afar.

then, you noticed a presence beside you as if the person had emerged from a shadow itself, and felt all the blood in your body rush for whatever reason. 

lisa snapped her head at you, asking, “jennie leave you to fend for yourself in the wild?” sounds like something that dog would do.

“um, yeah,” you stammered out. “lisa, right?”

“that’s my name,” lisa chirped, flashing you a full set of teeth. jesus, these girls were pretty as hell. way too pretty to hate each other. “you can say it as much as you’d like.”

you introduced yourself to lisa, and as if she hadn’t already known, she acted oblivious and complimented you much like jennie had. you guessed flattery was how these girls worked their way into people’s pants.

lisa, in her endeavor to make small talk, asked, “how’s the party? you don’t look like you’re feeling it.”

“not my idea of a fun night out, but it looks fun. probably would be if i knew somebody out here,” you mumbled under your breath.

“such a shame she left you all alone,” lisa told you, wedging just a bit closer. which you neglected to realize. “you’ve been drinking, too. it’s unsafe to wander by yourself.”

you wrapped your arms around your frame, feeling a little nip in the air. “i’m not by myself - anymore.”

lisa chuckled. “no, i guess not. good thing i’m here.” her eyes fell to your bare arms. “you know, if you’re cold, we can go inside. i know somewhere if you wanna get away from the crowd.”

given how borderline freezing it was outside, that proposal sounded like heaven to you. “but what about jennie?”

it took everything for lisa not to roll her eyes. “oh, please. the party will be over by the time she finishes talking to all of her friends. i’d never abandon you like that.”

well, to be honest, you did feel somewhat abandoned. and she never exactly gave you an estimate of what time she would be back. or if she would be coming back, for that matter. you were trying to clear your head anyways, preferably somewhere warm. you ultimately caved, replying, “okay, fine. let’s go.”

lisa burst into smiles, grabbing your hand and leading you indoors with the excuse of needing to keep you close so that you didn’t get lost. you didn’t mind it, although you were a little nervous to be holding hands with a girl this gorgeous, so your biggest worry was your hands sweating.

though lisa greeted a couple of people on her way upstairs, she didn’t spare them much longer than a second, fully bent on taking you up for whatever reason. it made you think. why would jennie invite you to a party in unfamiliar territory just to leave you by yourself?

there was a room on the right side of the hall and lisa opened the door for you, politely letting you enter first and closing the door behind herself when she came in after you. scanning the bedroom, your eyes wandered over the decorated walls and cute patterns. it was pretty cozy to be a guest bedroom.

“so,” lisa started, plopping down on the bed. when she beckoned you over with her finger, you didn’t hesitate to obey, sitting beside her. “what do you like to do? since you’re clearly not a party person.”

“i, uh, like to paint,” you admitted quietly, as if you were embarrassed.

lisa’s eyes widened. “really? i love painting. matter of fact, i have some paint in here,” she said, standing to walking over to a desk rooted near a shelf. “jisoo, the host, lets me crash here sometimes. so some of my things are in here.”

that explained why it looked fairly lived-in. not dirty or anything of the like, but there was a difference between hotel-esque rooms and ones where you could feel the life in them. there was a lot of vampire art on the walls, pictures of them sucking the blood out of random girls, which you didn’t pay any mind to. it wasn’t as if they were real.

when you glanced back up, lisa was bent over, looking for something inside a drawer. you swallowed and glanced down, looking at your feet. it was inappropriate to stare and you didn’t want to come off as a creep, even if she did look spectacular in that skirt.

“here it is,” lisa said, pulling out a set of red paint and a couple of brushes. “sorry, i only have one color here. i like to do realistic body paints.”

“that’s cool,” you chirped, intrigued by the fact that you shared a mutual interest. “you paint on people?”

lisa was sporting a huge smile, walking over to you with her things in tow. “i love it. it’s so fun. i could try it on you, if you want.”

from the look on her face, you could tell she was mainly asking because she wanted to, and with that coaxing smile she wore, there was no way that you could turn her down. you threw your hands up. “sure. why the hell not?”

lisa’s smile got wider, much more than you thought possible. you were a sucker for pretty girls with equally pretty smiles. “yay,” she cheered, throwing her stuff on the bed, “i have the perfect idea in mind for you.”

brows furrowing, you asked, “shouldn’t you grab like a towel to work over in case things get messy?”

“the messier, the better,” was all lisa said, not sparing you a glance while she picked out a brush from her selection. “do you mind lying down? i prefer working… over people.”

you swallowed the dry lump in your throat. “um, okay.”

lisa was still cheesing, though it looked a bit cheekier now. 

sprawled out on the mattress, you shifted a little, trying to find an adequate position. the bed was plenty comfy, at least. you might’ve fallen asleep while she worked on you. “is this okay?”

“it’s perfect, babe,” lisa replied in a heartbeat, setting the paint to the side and grabbing brush just before straddling you. 

being so close to lisa, your body flush to hers, made you feel a little hot. outside, inside - everywhere. you couldn’t even breathe. you instinctively grabbed her hips, internally swearing to yourself for doing so, but lisa didn’t really seem to mind, merely chuckling as she damped the brush in the paint and went for your neck.

though you tried to stay stiff, aware that sudden movements could lead her to make a mistake, it was unfathomably difficult. she was on top of you, for fuck’s sake. given that so much of her skin was revealed, you could feel it on yours.

distract, you thought when you felt a wetness creep between your legs. your eyes locked on one of the paintings behind lisa, hoisted on the wall. the one of the girl getting bitten by a vampire. it was eerily beautiful, and you’d already made note of her fascination for bloody art.

“you make such a beautiful model,” lisa whispered when she was done with your neck. you thought she was finished in general, but you were quickly proven wrong when she said, “can i take this off? i wouldn’t want to ruin your top. it’s so cute.”

when you realized that she was asking if she could take off your shirt, a couple of cells in your brain immediately fried. you weren’t wearing anything underneath either, which wasn’t too difficult to see, but lisa didn’t seem bothered.

too scared of how you’d sound if you spoke, you merely bobbed your head. 

lisa didn’t waste a second to tug at the strings at the front of your crop top, watching it unravel before her eyes as your tits came into vision. your cheeks burned and you placed your palms over your bare chest, bashful, but lisa grabbed your wrists and set your hands back at her hips. “you’ve got nothing i haven’t seen before, baby,” she purred in your ear. 

the throbbing between your thighs intensified. your mouth was so dry that you couldn’t even speak.

your breath got caught in your throat every time you accidentally made eye contact, her gaze flickering up to meet yours every now and then. the feeling of the brush tickling your neck made you shudder a little, much to lisa’s amusement.

she couldn’t help but chuckle. you were so, so naive. to be frank, she didn’t think that that blood cover-up would be buyable, but you genuinely believed that it was just red paint. as if there weren’t other colors featured in her paintings.

it was almost endearing how gullible you were. your neck was covered in blood - her blood - and the longer she spent looking at the fake bite on your throat, smelling her own scent on you, it became increasingly more difficult to resist her natural urges.

you shrieked out when all of the sudden you felt something protrude into your throat and instinctively recoiled, reaching out to push her off of you. lisa pushed you back against the mattress, making your eyes widen in sheer panic, and had the door not swung open when it did you would have been in deeper shit.

there jennie stood, arms folded, the most reproachful glower on her face. “you just really couldn’t help yourself, could you, lisa?”

lisa leaned back, groaning in annoyance. “why are you here, jennie?”

you sat up, backing away.

“because you stole my date,” jennie retorted, shutting the door behind herself. 

“can’t steal what you abandoned. she was free for the taking,” lisa shot back.

“and,” jennie added, ignoring that quip. “i could smell your blood.”

that made you freeze. her blood? you glanced down at your body, covering your chest again when you remembered you were exposed, and whispered to lisa, “you said it was paint.”

“you sweet, naive thing,” lisa said, her voice wavering as the scent of your blood overwhelmed her. all she wanted was to feed on you a little.

it was all starting to click, the paintings on the wall and the lack of other paint colors she claimed to not have owned. you wondered why you didn’t smell the blood, but she must have had a cunning trick for that too.

vampires are real, you thought to yourself. you brought your fingers to your neck, glancing down at them to spot your own blood. the wound on your skin proved it. as did the way lisa visibly tensed with hunger when she sensed your blood on your fingertips.

you glanced at jennie, asking, “what are you?”

jennie said nothing, just opening her mouth to bear her sharp teeth and lifting her hand to summon claws out of her fingers. you jolted back, somewhat frightened, but enticed nonetheless. the fever between your legs was a testament to that.

“werewolves,” jennie exhaled contentedly, stepping towards you. “the natural enemy of vampires.”

“you wanna know why?” lisa asked, leaning into your ear. you sucked in a breath when you felt her so close to you. “because we compete for the same source.”

“me,” you whispered in realization. “you’re competing for me.”

“ding, ding, ding,” lisa sang. 

jennie was standing in front of you, a slight flush to her face. “i can smell how wet you are.”

you didn’t really know how to respond to that, shutting your legs as if it would help. 

“you can?” lisa asked, a little envious. 

“all you can smell is blood,” jennie quipped before turning back to you, much to lisa’s annoyance. “but i can smell everything about you and it’s so overwhelming. your scent, your arousal, your…”

you gasped when she ripped your shorts off of your body and quickly moved onto your underwear, leaving you entirely naked. “jennie,” you rasped. 

jennie didn’t stop to listen, because the next thing you knew, her mouth was on your cunt, sucking and licking at your clit. you fisted the sheets in your hands, throwing your head back, which gave lisa perfect access to your exposed neck and you moaned when she attacked again.

you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel good to be bitten. not to mention you were somewhat aroused by the idea of fucking vampires and werewolves. there was a weird fascination and you couldn’t help but be turned on.

once lisa had her fill, she drew back to give you and jennie a quick scan, grinning slyly at the look of pleasure on your face and jennie’s need while she desperately grinded into the side of the bed as she ate you out. lisa mocked, “just couldn’t help yourself, could you, jennie?”

“shut up, leech,” jennie hissed. you frowned at the loss of contact when she stood, but your attention was caught when you glanced down at her hard-on.

“whatever you say, puppy.”

ignoring lisa for the second time, jennie cast her eyes at you, her lips puckered into a pout. she almost looked like she was going to cry because of how tight her cock felt in her jeans. “can i?”

you bobbed your head, swallowing to damp your throat. “please.”

“i have to warn you - i’m a handful.”

“i don’t care,” you replied, impatient. “i can take it.”

for the briefest of seconds, you swore lisa and jennie made eye contact with each other, before lisa was forcing you into a mating press and jennie was stuffing you full of her cock, unable to wait any longer. you gasped, not expecting it so soon, but jennie didn’t pause and she was quick to bury herself to the hilt.

it was a good thing that you were already extremely wet, having already been aroused coupled with the fact that jennie was eating you out a moment ago, but it didn’t make the stretch feel any less insane. you had no clue that she was this big, it almost looked painful, and there was a hazy stare in her hooded eyes.

you reached for her, whispering, “jen-”

“no,” lisa said, smacking your hand away. “you asked for this. you said you could take it, remember? now take it.”

jennie gave you all of two seconds to adjust before she was pounding you out, your thighs trapped beneath hers and giving you no room to escape if you were suddenly inclined to writhe and squirm. when your walls clenched around her dick, she let out a borderline animalistic howl, quickly slapping her hips into yours. 

lisa was mainly content with just watching, like there was something enjoyable about watching you getting fucked into oblivion by something barely human. you cried out when she pinched your nipples between her fingers, solely to watch your face contort in a blend of pleasure and pain.

you had all but forgotten the bites on your neck, the blood staining your skin, because jennie fucking you like you were some toy and not another living being was all that your minded dare to consider. she was so erratic, like a needy virgin. like a puppy, you considered, reminded of the nickname lisa had bestowed upon jennie, but you would never say that aloud.

jennie had started to ramble, her voice so close to your ear, “you have the prettiest, wettest pussy i’ve ever seen. i should get you all to myself on a full moon. god, i’ll break you.”

“break me,” you purred, smiling at her enticingly. 

“be careful what you wish for,” she growled.

the bed felt like it was going to fall apart. you felt like you were going to fall apart, but you loved every second of it. you were thankful that the party was downstairs and much of the blaring music would cancel out the sounds of the bed thudding against the floor with the rhythm of your bodies. 

in the corner of your eyes, you saw lisa slide a hand under her skirt to touch herself, getting off to the wonderful sight before her. you wished that she would take it off, just so that you could see her cunt glisten in the light.

like she could read your mind (frankly you were beginning to fear that she could), lisa stepped out of her skirt and underwear, the same underwear you’d seen when she was bending over. the same underwear you’d felt when she was straddling your crotch, most likely to get some kind of reaction out of you. you badly wanted to fuck her, but that would have to be saved for another time.

you glanced at jennie, quickly falling for the feeling of her weight flush against your chest and the sound of her desperate little howls as she used you, but lisa grabbed your jaw and forced your attention back on her. “no,” she said. “keep your perv eyes on me.”

that was rich. you scoffed, “i’m a pervert?”

“upon many things,” lisa chirped. “what, you think i didn’t feel you staring at my underwear when i grabbing the paint-”

“the blood,” you corrected. “that you tricked me into thinking was paint because you wanted to claw your fangs in my neck. how perverse.”

lisa chuckled, spreading her legs a little to give you a perfect view of her cunt. “what can i say? all’s fair in lust and war.”

“both of you are perverts,” jennie butted in, though realizing her breathy voice didn’t made her look any better, added, “we all are. that’s what makes it fun.”

“amen to that,” lisa replied, shoving two fingers inside of her pussy and you tightened at the thought of them being yours.

this was not how you were expecting your night to go. you didn’t come to this party expecting to get railed by a werewolf and bitten by a vampire. you had no idea how you were going to explain the literal holes in your neck, too small to be of an insect. but you would let her do it again. god, did it feel good for whatever reason.

jennie trailed her fingers down your chest, not slowing down, and if anything she was more sporadic than before. she just kept moaning and crying out, her sounds pitching higher and higher, like she genuinely intended for them to reach the moon.

there was a part of you that wondered if this would be the last time, if you would get another chance. it didn’t take a genius to put together that lisa and jennie literally only competed for bragging rights, to have a higher number than the other. you wondered if that’s all you would be after tonight - a number. they were going to move on and find other girls to make themselves feel superior.

jesus christ, you really wished you would have known that you were inserting yourself into a body count contest. not that it really would have changed much.

none of it especially changed that you were on the brink of climax, trying to writhe, but jennie had you so glued to one place that it was nearly impossible. you were slumped under her weight.

“jennie, i can’t…,” you trailed off, losing your voice. 

“just a little bit more,” she replied breathlessly. 

even lisa’s fingers were moving quicker now, thrusting in and out of her tight pussy. the room started to feel hot and you almost felt dizzy, like you could have passed out any moment now.

the breaking point for you was lisa calling out your name as she neared climax, her voice seductive and airy, alluring like the true nature of a vampire. you couldn’t help yourself when you came, shuddered under jennie, whines spilling from your mouth but you dared not to say any of their names. 

no one person had got you there.

moments passed before you were in your right mind again, having blacked out from your orgasm for only god knew how long. jennie was still inside you and the overstimulation was driving you mad, but she wouldn’t back off, not until she was completely done with you.

it was just so much. you didn’t know how to handle all of it. your body was exhausted and you could barely feel your limbs. 

“cumming,” jennie hissed. “fuck, i’m cumming. i’m…”

you didn’t really hear anything after that because the second you felt her load filling you to the brim, everything else became white noise to you. it was warm and made you feel fuzzy, almost like a second orgasm. you whimpered when she pulled out, leaving her release to drip out of you, but you couldn’t even move. you were slumped, rooted to the bed.

“too much?” jennie asked, backing away from the bed. “i tried to warn you.”

“she asked for it. it would be a shame if she couldn’t take what she was asking for,” lisa added, hovering over you. 

your eyes flickered. “i’m fine. i just, uh, need a moment.”

lisa was naked, much to your excitement. “let us know when you’re ready. i wanna ride your pretty face.”

jennie was between your legs, to your shock, about to lick her own release out of your cunt.

there was a challenge here, even if you didn’t see it. even if it only existed between lisa and jennie. all’s fair in lust and war, as a wise person had once told you.

[vee6lolz]

Part one: 𝔳𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔢𝔶.

Spencer Reid x BLACK!Fem! Reader Warnings: Mother reader, Toxic relationship warning, trust issues implied, one-sided love, cheating tendencies implied. A/N: This is part on of the DOWN THE VALLEY series. find the official master list here! wc: 2.3k

{— QUANTICO, VA } BROWN RESIDENCE || 7:47 10/02/05 }

(LISTEN WITH MUSIC FOR A BETTER EXPIRENCE.)

In the morning, the sun is bright, and the sunlight is warm and not harsh. The birds keep chirping, and the breeze is cool. The leaves of the plants are covered from the dew drops. The level of noise pollution in the mornings is less than at other times of the day. It was a peaceful morning for Val as her eyes seeped open.

 She sat up as her alarm vibrated against the nightstand. Her eyes open, but her mind is still soft. She hit it, slamming her hand against it. It did not help. At all. She was certainly sure to spite her, it had rung even louder. A groan escaped her lips as she breathed in and out to calm her nerves. She then continued by throwing then device across the wall, which still vibrated. She close to screaming, yes she was. The ringing finally stopped and gave her time to collect her thoughts. She stood up and thought about making her bed but decided to do it once she finished getting herself ready. She looked at the time on her watch, seeing it was only 7' O'clock, giving her enough time to shower before someone woke up.

It's a crisp October morning. Unbeknownst to her, her boyfriend is using her kitchen for what had to be the first time since he first practically "moved" into her apartment. Among the many skills he lied about having, cooking was one of them. He decided to make do with what she had in the fridge, without permission, without asking, he took out her daughters lunch for the day, and microwaved it.

Valley walked out into the Kitchen to see the half naked man standing in the middle of her kitchen, eating something that he knew wasn't his. "Dude," She said in an obviously annoyed tone. "that's hers." she muttered, somewhat shoving him out the way as she takes the Sandwich from his hand and closes the lunchbox back up. He stands there obviously frustrated as he rolls his eyes and looks through her cabinets, again without permission. "Really? didn't have her name on it." Looking over at him with a disgusted expression, she put the food back in her refrigerator. She scrambled around the living room to find a bunch of removed clothes on the floor and threw them at Nick, in which he returned the unpleasant facial expression. Dealing with him, was like having two children instead of one. The only thing good about him was tucked away in his boxers. He made it very obvious he had no care for her daughter, both meaning that he didn't mind her having one and he had no intention of treating her like she was his. 

Valley knew this, which is why it never got serious with Nick. He was replaceable, but what was in his pants? Never gonna be anything like it. Which is also why she didn't get rid of him, she knew that deep down he cares a lot for her. And its not that she cares for him, but he cares about her enough that she doesn't have to care about herself. Bad argument? Makeup sex. Aggravated? He pays for takeout. No car? Use his, better yet, he'll buy her one. Nick thinks that woman are nothing more than pets. The more you give them what want, the more they stop barking. Val knows what kind of guy Nick is, and the more she keeps barking, the more she gets. She was a feminist, she just took advantage of the fact that Nick... wasn't. 

"Yeah I'll let her know to do that when she can hold a marker straight," She said sardonically, looking back to see the man only in boxers standing there picking food out his teeth. God its like his frame was hand-sculpted by God himself. 

"But dude seriously put some clothes on before she wakes-- Matter of fact why are you still here? You were supposed to leave before sunrise what happened?" She asked , as she whined in pain from stepping on toddlers toys. He ignores her question for a few seconds, struggling to put back on his jeans, however she didn't mind sneaking a quick peak. "It was a thunderstorm out there this morning Van- Val." He muttered, which confused her quite a bit but she chose to ignore it. "What you want me to go out there and get struck by lightning? Hm? You wanna get rid of me that quick?" He joked, holding her waist and snuggling into the crevice of her neck, kissing on her shoulder softly. 

"Of course not... you haven't put me in your will yet." She said, politely shoving his face off of her. "Seriously, out."

He shot his hands up in defense, and snuck a quick kiss on her lips. She didn't kiss him back. 

He grabbed his coat from the hanger, and shut the door behind him. Finally, he was gone. She let out a heavy sigh, and tidied up the floor and dishes before getting ready for work. 

The sound of light footsteps grew louder as a toddler made her way into the spacious living room. Valley turned her head and smiled, her heels clacking as looked into living room mirror while fixing her earrings, seeing the tawny beige skinned little girl in the view. 

It was her little girl, Lani. Lani was tall for her age, she has long legs like her Mother. She has woolish hair, with light skin and rosy cheeks, which matched the color of her plump lips she got from her Momma. The one thing that Valley loved most about her, were her eyes. She had eyes as mosey green and still as water in summer. It always fascinated Val how beautiful her daughter was. That's one thing Lani would always know, because no matter what, that's the one thing she will always be reminded. 

Lani had her hands behind her back and her leg rubbed into the floor, her eyes looked up at her mother pleadingly. "Go now?" She asked, her thrusting out her lower lip into a sad pout. Val picked her baby up, and rubbed her back, softly bouncing her in her arms. Lani knew the answer.

After Lani was born, Val took a break from work. A very long leave, actually for 23 months. She had to focus on her main priority. That's all Lani was. But occasionally she used to leave a lot, so Lani never saw her much. Until around 9 months ago, were she became more of a homebody when she met Nick. She didn't have to do things anymore, she didn't have to go out, go to group therapy meetings, socialize like she was ordered to for her mental health, she had Nick. He was a therapist, partner, and friend in one. Plus a bank account, of... course, that not the only reason she liked him though. Lani and her mom grew closer, like inseparable. Kahlani was her first child, and there's no love matched like your first. But a few weeks ago, she sat her daughter down. And as easily as one could explain to a one year old, she told her that she was going to start seeing mommy a lot less. 

So for the past 8 weeks, every time she wakes up in the morning and sees her mom, she asks "Go now?". It was sweet at first, until Val realized eventually she would have to say yes. And she could bring herself to do that. She couldn't bring herself to let her poor baby down like that. She just couldn't. 

With a soft kiss on her babies face, she sat her down in her high chair as she checked her watch and realized she would have to get on the road soon. She looked through the fridge and took out simple ingredients for pancakes. She wanted to make sure this moment was special. 

She let Kahlani do most of the pouring, and a few eggshells, messy flour and a lot of burnt pancakes later, they finally got a perfect batch. Somehow, her work clothes were fine, other than some flour on her pencil skirt, but who would notice that? 

After Kahlani's breakfast, she carried her into her room and sat her on her mini vanity dresser. It was organized, yet had toys, mini mouse perfumes, lip balms and again, more toys on it. Kahlani has been interested in feminine things since she could talk, which she takes after from her Momma. She let Lani gel her own hair, which she giggled whiled doing. She parted her hair down the middle, doing 2 sections of square parts with a braid down the middle, into a pig tail. She did the same for the other side, she then undid the lower part of both braided pig tail, brushing out her daughters coily hair and decorating both sides with a a pink bow. She took an edge brush, and looked into her daughter light green eyes with a smile, as she put swoops in her baby hairs.

She then got her dressed, a long-sleeve uniform sweater with a cargo skirt and knee-high socks with navy blue Jordans, spraying her with expensive smelling perfume. She begun to praise the looks of her daughter. giving her Mom a kiss on the cheek before hugging her. It was 8:30. Shit, she was late. 

Valley grabbed Kahlani, and took the elevator down. She lived on the highest floor of her penthouse apartment, so it took around 5 minutes to get there. With Kahlani on her hip resting her head on her shoulder, the toddler began to slowly drift off to sleep, breathing into her moms neck. It melted her heart. 

She walked into the lobby and waved at a few of her neighbors who were sitting down in the autumn scented lobby. It felt like the walk from the elevator the lobby was longer than the walk to the valet. Which, it was. The valet was just outside. 

She was handed her keys, and she beeped her car open, setting Lani down in her car seat, on her way to drop her off and then keep it moving all the way to Headquarters, and the drive was menacing. Her heart was racing the closer she got, 8 miles away, to 6 miles, to 3 miles. She hasn't seen anyone, in almost 2 years. 

It didn't feel real. She was practicing her smile, just keep smiling. Don't let anyone think back to that day. Keep smiling. You're not smiling wide enough, you're smiling too wide. Some part of her told her to just turn around. Do the whole two years, get extra time with Kahlani. But another part told her that she was just making excuses. She just didn't want to be pitied, and too bad. If she can't handle being viewed as weak, she wouldn't be able to stand for what she stood for.

Joining the BAU, was an access point for her. It was a chance to show the world, young girls that no matter of their gender they can and will be taken seriously, if they take it. Don't ask for anyone's respect, take it. Being treated as less than, was the whole reason she did what she did. The sacrifices she had to make, the time she had to spare, and the trauma she had to deal with to get to where she was. And she would be damned if she threw that away just because of what someone who did nothing for her, talks about her. Forget that. That's not gonna happen.

The elevator wasn't any better, her heart was beating and it felt like it would rip out of her chest. Her muscles felt weak, her stomach felt like it was giving up on itself, her eyes got dry and she couldn't stop shivering. 

That's how she knew she was ready for this. 

[silli---lilli]

Part 1 - Blind Soap and Wounded Ghost/Soulmates

I'm making twitter vote in a 'Choose Your Own Adventure' style thread :) This was part one, part two will be up soon based on their choices.

Johnny has been temporarily blinded, Ghost had a private room to deal with his wounds until Soap gets moved in. Ghost has the mark of a soulmate appear.

TW: Injury, depression

With his face uncovered, Ghost didn’t feel like a ghost at all. He felt like a weak, ugly man. He hated that when the nurses and doctors met his eyes, they could see his crooked nose and scarred lips and the face he so badly wanted to bury. He’d always hated it, it looked like his father’s, it reminded him of all he’d lost and he felt that the name of everyone he’d let down, the declarations of all his crimes were painted on his skin. His mask was his power, a chance to prove who he was and what he was capable of in spite of his face.

Ghost had laid in the empty hospital room for…longer than he cared to remember. He was capable of nothing. He’d failed the mission Price had sent him to do. The man had been to visit him several times, he always looked tired and strained. Carrying Ghost’s weight.

The nurses that came in were quiet and respectful, he guessed because he was terrifying and cold, and he had little motivation to be much else. The room he was in was what they called “semi-private”, split into two by a thin curtain but by some blessing from the gods, he’d been alone since he got there. He was in a quiet wing, his deep, dark, massive, never ending thoughts were rarely interrupted.

He’d been there for two weeks already, one unconscious. He was that way when his team found him after being dragged from a vehicle accident and tortured.

They were treating him for a head wound, internal bleeding, various broken bones, and an infection in one of his many lacerations that almost killed him. All of it hurt, and none as badly as letting his team down. He had always worked alone, mission by mission, but it wasn’t ‘alone’ like this. Alone, working, he didn’t have to think about anything but the task at hand. Now, he thought only of tasks he may never do again.

He was able to move about a bit on his own, and sometimes he traveled to the window, only to find the city view gave him no comfort at all and the light hurt his eyes. He had a few more weeks of treatment and inpatient rehab if the doctors were correct and he was already wondering just how hard that concrete might hurt from a height like that.

He was contemplating it again one night, knowing he carried either too much cowardice or too much loyalty to let himself jump. It never truly got dark in a hospital, and despite there being little action in his little corner of it, it was never truly quiet either. His pain usually made him exhausted, the meds made him sleep, but that night he was awake to hear them bring someone else in.

Ghost sat up, silent, as they wheeled a dark headed man through the door. He was obviously conscious but silent and his head was wrapped in a white bandage. It was over his eyes and a pang of pity hit Ghost in the chest. He hated nearly everything his eyes saw, but giving it up would be horrifying.

On her way out, one of the nurses he’d grown used to gave him a small smile. “Looks like you got yourself a roommate after all.”

She didn’t stay long enough to tell Ghost the man’s name, or why he was there, or for how long, she took one look at his dead stare and left. The man didn’t bother introducing himself and Ghost watched him try and get comfortable, completely unashamed, knowing he wouldn’t have a clue.

He felt doomed, spiraling now that the one saving grace of his predicament had been taken from him. But he lay still anyway and eventually slept. The doctor came in the next morning, making him sit on the edge of his bed and move his feet. His reflexes weren’t back, his fever kept fluctuating, his body was betraying him.

The doctor seemed more optimistic than he felt, though, and Ghost quickly escaped to the shower once he was gone. He avoided looking in the mirror as best he could, knowing he would need a shave soon and putting it off. He didn’t know why it would matter.

When he came back out, his back aching, he stood in the doorway of their shared space and stared at the other man. His ‘roommate’, the nurse had called him. He had never had one by choice and he supposed he never would. His head was turned toward the window, but his eyes were still covered.

“I can still hear ya, if that’s what you’re wondering.” He said, surprising Simon and never turning. He had a deep Scottish accent, and Simon felt his face flush. He’d been caught.

“Noted.” His voice sounded rough, as it should, he’d barely used it.

The other man’s face never changed. Simon sat in his bed for a while but the presence of another human gave him the innate sense that he shouldn’t be idle. He didn’t have much else to do and he found himself flipping through a book laying on the table near his head. He didn’t see any of the words, though. He was distracted by how his roommate’s head turned to listen to him.

Eventually he got up and went back in the bathroom. He hadn’t really needed to, but his skin felt too tight and wrong shaped. Maybe it was having his space invaded, maybe it was seeing someone suffering worse than he was, but he was on edge, he couldn’t get his heart rate down, and he had a new, throbbing ache in the back of his right arm.

He had thought it was paranoia so he decided to use the mirror for once. Gingerly slipping out of the plain white t-shirt he wore, he turned and looked at the skin on the back of his arm. For all the jagged, discolored scarring on his body, that space had been fairly clear. It was no longer.

Vertigo gripped him, he thought, though he would later realize it was shock and he swallowed what little was left in his stomach lest his cellmate learn of his weakness. There was a new scar there, it looked fairly fresh, a ragged circle, deep, hard to heal. A bullet hole. And a mark.

A mark Simon Riley had both known he didn’t deserve and prayed he never acquired. To be marked with another person’s scar, to feel their pain, it was a tie he couldn’t sever even if he cut the whole arm off. His soulmate was out there somewhere, suffering, and he had to know so against his will and wishes.

It was a horrible system, it gave them no way to find each other except by the physical marking. Quickly, attempting to make no sound, he searched his body for other marks he may not have noticed. None appeared but there was time yet. And he didn’t want the want it instilled in him. He didn’t want to be connected to anyone else, even by choice, but especially not by fate.

He walked back out, strolling back to his bed like nothing had happened even though the surprise and horror of the realization made his eyes burn. The other man turned slightly toward him but said nothing. Their meal was brought a bit later and Simon watched the man eat, judging the extent of his injuries. His hands seemed fine, and clearly his hearing was.

“So what are you in for?” That Scottish lilt caught Ghost off guard again and he turned quickly with a frown the man would unfortunately not see.

“Not interested in chatting.”

The man just nodded, a slight smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “The nurse said that might be true. She also told me you’re a soldier. Suppose that makes two of us.”

Simon didn’t answer, going back to his flavorless meal. He’d eaten slop for most of his life but he’d kill for a real breakfast or a cake with his tea.

“My name’s John.”

Simon stared ahead at the wall. He knew it was a peace offering of sorts, but he was anonymous to the man and he planned to stay that way.

“Ghost.”

The dark headed man nodded and went on with his meal without speaking. Simon had horrible nightmares that night but they woke him in a choked, cold sweat, as usual and for some reason his first thought was hope that he hadn’t woken the other man. He turned slowly to find him still sleeping.

He was unsure why but he didn’t want the other man to know how weak and ugly he was, even if he couldn’t see him.

A doctor came in the next morning to visit John. Simon was respectfully still and quiet but he listened in like a rude schoolboy.

The man had been caught in crossfire, taken a few bullets to his chest plate and taken a bad fall, hitting his head and resulting in complete blindness that they hoped was temporary. His other injuries were superficial, including two broken ribs and a sprained wrist that Simon had noticed was wrapped when they brought him in.

They uncovered his face to take a look at his eyes and then he was gawking, losing his discrepancy entirely. He wanted to know what he looked like, he wanted to know if his blindness was legit. All he saw was a handsome, younger man with incredible blue eyes that refused to follow the prompts of the doctor before him.

They discussed for a moment whether there was a need to cover them back up and deciding the light in the room wouldn’t be an issue, they left them. There was some hope he would begin to pick up on light and motion and they wanted to let the muscles work. He looked serious and he was humorous and respectful in his answers.

But Simon watched his eyes turn down and stare blankly at his lap when they left, he sat still a long time, his hands fidgeting with the edge of his blanket. Simon wondered why he was alone so suddenly that he nearly said it out loud. Even he had Price by his side here and there, John looked like someone who should have a mother or a wife or some buddies dropping in.

And yet, the next two days, no one came, and that awful, forlorn look never left his face. He didn’t know Simon had stared at it long enough to get tired of it, to be annoyed by it and wish it gone.

“Busted lung, sepsis, amongst a few other things.” John jumped visibly and turned toward Simon’s voice.

“What?” Now his voice was rough, too, he certainly hadn’t kept it warm in the days since he’d been there.

“You asked what I was in for.”

John’s face was incredulous, he didn’t bother hiding his wide eyes as he turned further toward ghost. The question had come days ago and John hadn’t heard his voice since he asked it. He chuckled, closing his eyes.

“Alright, then.”

“I’d offer you something to read, but I don’t share well.” Ghost said, in that same deadpan tone.

John chuckled again, relaxing back into his pillows. “Thought you said you don’t want to chat.”

“I don’t.”

“You were on a mission, then.”

Simon suddenly didn’t want to look at him. He couldn’t be seen but it was too personal, questions like that. He didn’t know why he spoke in the first place, and now he owed the man an answer. The scar at the back of his arm ached egregiously, the pain medication seeming not to help which made sense considering it was not his pain. He gripped it with his other hand absentmindedly. He needed the distraction terribly.

“Vehicle accident.”

Johnny nodded, choosing not to pry. “I fell.”

“I heard.”

The nurse brought their food again, and they were quiet until later that evening. Ghost had been lying there, wallowing in confusion and heavy guilt. He’d failed his team, his mission, his soul, which he had pretended was dead, was now someone else’s burden and he’d never been more sorry in his life. No one deserved it. His fingers kept gently playing at the mark he could only see in the mirror he loathed.

“I apologize for taking up half your space.” Simon startled at the low voice, and hated himself for it. “They said there is a window. If you wanted to come and look out, you could. I don’t mind.”

He stared at the ceiling. “Not much to see.” He clenched his eyes shut then, guilty for that, too. He shouldn’t take the concrete sight for granted. “Sorry.”

John smiled, Simon heard it in his voice. “The Ghost feels remorse.”

Simon took a deep breath. “You have no idea.”

[odditycircus-2002]

Jeepers Creepers: unexpected turn of events

So I noticed how really there's not enough of these stories, but I'm gonna change that with this! Meet Corbin, a close friend of the Jenner siblings. She's just coming with Darry and Trisha because she has nothing better to do over the break; however, what she wasn't expecting was a man-eating monster chasing them in a cat and mouse game for survival. Won't spoil much but know this, there's more to Corbin than meets the eye. Oh, and there will be gore 'cause hey! Man-eating monster. I do not own Jeepers Creepers, that goes to Victor Salva (FUCK THAT GUY). This is a none-profit story meant for fun. Obviously, spoilers if you haven't seen the movie. I hope you enjoy it, and let me know your thoughts.

PROLOGUE:

"No no no no NO! " 

Hissed a figure looking again at the tarot cards, her mother gave her a long time ago which she keeps in mint condition. Sure, her mother used them during her time as a game for a few coins, but she had no idea at the time that when done right, they could be used for more. Even though she herself doesn't use them often anymore, but it has been a while and she thought, 

'Why not?'

 So she then set up the cards and turned the lights off after lighting some candles. That may not really be necessary for her to do, but she just loves the mood its soft orange glow that it gives off. She wasn't expecting anything, not really, but now staring at the order the cards are in with skeleton in the cloak looking like it's mocking her future misfortune as it seems ready to reap the card next to it. The 10  of pentacles.

"SHIT! Not again please! I can't lose another one."

She hissed again, scratching at the coffee table, leaving deep grooves in the wood.

' This couldn't be, right? Maybe I'm just rusty? It has been a while since I've used them.'

She thought to herself desperately looking at the cards again, hoping maybe she's just seeing things; Unfortunately, her eyes aren't deceiving her.

One of them is going to die.

"Oh, Mama. What can I do to prevent this?"

The dark figure begs, with her hands rubbing down her face. A seemingly strange breeze blew through the figure's apartment slightly open window; scattering some tarot cards. The woman picks the cards up again, and turned one over for a card she wished, she would just throw away. 

The card of lovers.

"What do you mean by this?"

The figure asked, not really expecting an answer. What she wouldn't give to feel her warm embrace once more. For the elderly woman who nursed her unwanted surrogate child as a babe, to run her wrinkled hands through her hair as she calmly assures her everything will be alright. Even after all these long years, she still yearns for that familial love and comfort when everything else around her falls to pieces. Yet, some would contradict that want for all the inhumane crimes she's committed.

They were justified in their own sense, for how many mothers has she taken as well? How many children has she's left as orphans in order to extend her own life? It wasn't anything out of spite or malicious intent...mostly. Still, the instinct is too strong to ignore. No matter if how much or how long she tries to put them off and ignore them altogether, she couldn't ignore her body's demands when it gnaws at her strength; yet, that doesn't ease her feelings of guilt or remorse either. 

She clutches her necklace that was a gift from her mama, rubbing her thumb over the swirls designed into the metal.

" Well, it's like you always told me, everything happens for a reason."

She then sighs and starts putting her cards away not really needing to use the light, for she's accustomed to her surroundings. 

' I just hope you're right.'

She thought to herself, retiring for the night. Not worried she'll wake anyone since she's the only living soul in her current dwelling place. It's not home, but it suits well when needing to hang her hat somewhere. 

She doesn't mind this since tomorrow she's traveling with two of her closest friends. She can keep the loneliness at bay until then. 

Hey Guys! I hope you'll enjoy this! I don't know too much about tarot cards, just what I can gather online and from a friend. Don't worry, you'll get to know who she is. Heh, pronoun game ;) Also, you can find the rest of this story on Wattpad under the user name, JazzyHands02. Stay Weird, my fellow humans.

Next

[manslaught]

after everything has mikayla on the verge of snapping the way she promised asher she wouldn't. her jaw clenches tightly, teeth grinding together as she takes a slow, deep breath, holding back the rant that's going on in her mind— how it was taissa who gave up on them after everything, who decided that what they had meant nothing out here, like it was just something to get them by in the wilderness, something they no longer had any use for anymore. “ i just killed my dad, tai, ” she reminds her calmly, because it feels like tai's forgotten. “ i almost died. and your response was to— to fucking dump me. so yeah, i cut you out of my life. but you're the one who decided you didn't give a fuck first. ” maybe tai never said that specifically, but it felt that way. “ i didn't read them, ” she admits, keeping her voice flat. “ wasn't really in the mood to hear you try to make yourself look better. sorry doesn't really erase what you did. ” it killed her, not knowing what those letters said, throwing them out before the temptation could get to be too much, but she figured it was what was best for herself— and since it was clear that tai didn't care about what was best for mikayla, she had to focus on that instead, even if it meant ignoring the only woman she'd ever loved.

she looks away, annoyed, because she doesn't think she could ever get tai to understand, not when she got to grow up with parents who supported her, while mikayla only had a man who put her down, who used every opportunity to make her feel like nothing. “ i just fucking told you why. it's not my fault it's not what you want to hear. because you'd rather hear me tell you it's to spite you, right? that it's about you, not him? ” she lets out a cold laugh, her head tilting slightly. “ well, i'm fucking sorry, but not everything has to do with you. ” it doesn't feel like tai knows her, because playing out of spite is something mikayla would have always done— especially now, when most of her choices have been stripped away from her, forcing her to turn back to soccer, because it's one of the few things she's ever actually been good at, whether she liked it or not. “ i'm not miserable, ” she lies, but she's trying to believe her own words more than anything. “ it sounds like you're just pissed off that i'm doing fine without you. ” she's not, but she's learned to accept that, telling herself that happiness no longer mattered, that it wasn't even something she wanted anymore, because she can't stand the thought of losing it again.

mikayla doesn't want to have this conversation at all, but her pride won't let her walk away. she can handle the pain, she thinks, because it's all she's ever felt anyway, but that doesn't mean she enjoys it. “ i was in love with the person i was with out there, ” she clarifies. “ you know— the girl i married. the one i would've— ” killed for, died for, done anything for, but she stops herself before she could go there, feeling like she shouldn't have to. “ but you're not her, taissa. and maybe i was just wrong about you, and you never actually were the person i thought you were, but— the girl i loved wouldn't have fucking given up on me just because it was hard. she would have tried. so i don't know who the fuck visited me that day in prison, but— that wasn't her. ” that's what she's told herself the last few years in her determination to move on— because it was easier to separate tai into two different versions: the one she loved, and the one who hurt her, because that made it easier to come to terms with the fact she lost her.

her jaw clenches again, realizing she fucked up, but it's easy to brush it off like it doesn't mean anything, her shoulders lifting in a small shrug. “ nat, obviously. but trust me— i never fucking asked. ” that's not entirely true, either; there's been a few times when mikayla has, telling herself that it's just because they went through something horrible together, so of course she's curious, never stopping to consider the fact that she can't say the same about some of the other survivors. her head falls back in annoyance when tai, again, accuses her of not giving a shit, because it's not true, and she's sick of hearing it. “ okay, yeah, you got me. i didn't give a shit, ” she agrees sarcastically, because arguing against it seems pointless when tai won't listen. “ nice to know you think i'm as heartless as everyone else does. ”

she rolls her eyes,  frustrated that this conversation is happening years later,   because it could’ve been avoided if they could’ve just been there for her.   of course,  it’s easy for taissa to believe that they still could have been,  despite not being together,  when she’s the one who broke up with her in the first place.   ❝  you cut me out of your life, ❞   she says it like it really is as simple as that,   like she’s not at fault for anything.   ❝  after everything.  you were just fine never speaking to me again.  never asking how i am.  never telling me how you are.   never even bothering to answer my letters—  did you even read them?  ❞    she says,   getting worked up,   and once she realizes it,   she takes a deep breath,  trying to collect her composure again.  she brings a hand up to stop herself.   ❝  doesn’t matter, i guess.   you don’t give a shit.  i got that. ❞   not about her,  not about what they went through,  nothing.   she’s not okay with that,  because every day of her life,  she wonders how mikayla’s doing— and she never gets to know.  doesn’t mikayla wonder, too?  

of course she knows about her father— but that’s exactly why she’s been so confused about mikayla’s soccer career,  because she knew she resented it because of him.  she hadn’t considered she’d want to continue to spite him—  if they had the chance to speak about it,  taissa would’ve tried to talk her out of it,  tell her that she already won.    she frowns,  letting out a small scoff.  ❝  you were always better,  ❞   she says, as if it’s obvious.   it’s not just a dig at her father— she just always saw how good mikayla was.  she made taissa better.   she rolls her eyes as she brings it back to her and shakes her head.   ❝  no.  because i still don’t know why you’d want to put yourself through something you hate.   i know you, mikayla.  ❞    or at least,  she did.   ❝  you’re miserable playing.  aren’t you?   ❞    because even if she doesn’t know her anymore,  she still notices her.  she can still tell, even when no one else may be able.   she brings her hand up to rub at her forehead.  ❝ — you’re playing the best soccer of your life, ❞   she adds,  starting to feel slightly bad for digging at her.  ❝  just don’t want you to get lost in it, ❞    she says,   speaking from experience.

her jaw clenches,   and she does everything she can to not fall apart at her words.  she’s convinced herself for years that mikayla doesn’t love her anymore—  but she’s never gone that far,   believing that it wasn’t real to begin with.   it makes her angry to know that mikayla has,   and she doesn’t even feel like she can defend herself,  because what’s the point if mikayla’s already made up her mind?   ❝  so,  you were wrong?  about—  ❞    she feels like she’s going to choke if she says the words,  but she has to;   she has to confront her to see if there’s any kind of sign that she’s full of shit.   ❝  you weren’t in love with me?  ❞    she asks,  her eyes squinting,  silently telling her to answer carefully.   she wouldn’t just be disappointing tai—  she’s be disappointing the girl she was out there,  too.   the one taissa would trust her life with.  

she rolls her eyes,  because part of her always expected mikayla to look down on her for her path.   she’s been successful every step of the way—  it doesn’t mean she’s not empty inside through it all,  but mikayla can’t know that.   or maybe she can see it in her eyes,  the way she thinks she sees it in hers,   but that would be giving herself too much hope.   before she can say anything though, she realizes that she’s never told mikayla that—   she never had the chance,  and even in the letters she sent that went unanswered,  she never gave her too much detail,  hoping that it may entice her to finally ask.   ❝  who told you what i do?  ❞    she asks,   an amused grin forming on her features,  even if that’s empty too.   ❝  if you know that much—  i’m sure you know i’m damn good at what i do,  ❞    she says,  raising a brow.   ❝  as long as they actually give a shit,  ❞   she adds,  only really talking about her now, because of them, not what she's done.

[hpimaginesandblurbs]

wait draco fucking his arranged marriage wife on a couch after she admitted to still seeing her ex (not knowing he has feelings for her obviously) and he’s like oh? can he fuck you like this tho?

pairing: draco malfoy x reader 

warning(s): 18+, adultery, arranged marriage, slight degradation

word count: 3.0k 

a/n: this was not supposed to be this long but it ran away from me as i started writing. this is the longest thing i’ve written on tumblr so far and i hope you all enjoy it! one of my own person favorites. 

Another day felt like another day wasted in the walls in the stuffy Manor you called home. Except it wasn’t home. And it wasn’t another day. 

No. After weeks of trying to get your husband to open up to you, you had had enough. It was an arranged marriage, and although you were no fool and had no pretenses of pretending to love him, you’d at least like to get to know the person you called your husband. 

Back in school you had always thought the infamous Draco Malfoy was rather handsome, anyone would be a fool to deny it. He was confident and popular, great at Quidditch, and seemed like the perfect gentleman - everything you could want in a husband. Turns out it was the opposite. All the feelings you thought you might develop for him were unrequited, and he ignored you at every turn. 

So you took it into your own hands to get what you were so desperately craving: physical affection. It didn’t take much, truly. All you did was send an owl to your ex boyfriend from your school days and one thing led to another until you were in his bed, wrapped in his arms, and rocked to your core with pleasure. 

But now you were back in your ‘home’, wasting away within the walls of the Manor with your husband nowhere to be found. 

It wasn’t until hours later, when you were getting ready to push yourself up from the couch to head to bed, did the fireplace flash green, signaling his arrival home. 

“Hello. How was your day?” You asked politely, hoping just this once he might fall into a normal conversation with you. 

“Fine,” he replied shortly, not even bothering to look at you as he emptied his pockets and put down his very important briefcase that was a mystery to you. 

A blaze of frustration ran through your body, desperate to get more out of this man than just one word. A crazy thought came into your head, to tell him about your day, but you pushed it aside. No, Malfoy’s wouldn’t think highly of a girl who committed adultery within weeks of marriage. But…

“My day was great,” you told him, rather impulsively. 

At first he seemed shocked that you even said anything, the conversation usually reached its end by now. But he recovered quickly, politely asking “And what was so great about your day?” 

Naturally, you could lie. Tell him you met up with your female friends for lunch. Tell him you read a good book. Tell him anything but the truth. But… 

“I reacquainted myself with my ex boyfriend from school,” you told him, daring to look him in the eye as you spoke. 

“Reacquainted? How?” He asked, a series of emotions flashing over his face that you had never seen before. It sent a thrill through you to see him showing any emotions at all. 

Again, you could lie. Tell him you met him for lunch. Tell him that you ran into each other in Diagon Alley. Tell him anything but the truth. But… 

You knew even if the truth did come out, he would have to keep it a secret. He wouldn’t dare be seen as a spineless cuckold as his wife went around sleeping with whomever she pleased. 

“I owled him a few days ago, asking to meet him,” you began, watching as his face contorted into something akin to anger. “I went to his home, for lunch, and it didn’t end with lunch.” 

You left the end of your short story rather ambiguous, wanting to see what he’d do with the information you presented him. He had barely moved from his place by the fireplace, but the look he was giving you could set you up in flames if he wanted it to. 

“So, what? You fucked him?” He asked, the politeness in his voice giving way to the anger he was feeling. 

In a sick way, it pleased you to see him angry. Gave you a sense of pride that you, the wife he had seen fit to ignore, could get such a rise out of him. 

“Yes, seeing as you haven’t even touched me,” was your spiteful reply, foolishly placing the blame all on him despite your own actions. 

“You stupid, silly little girl,” he said under his breath as he stalked over towards you, menacing in just how much bigger he was than you. “You don’t fucking understand a thing about me, do you?” He asked, hovering over you, his hands braced on the back of the couch that you were still seated on, your faces inches apart. 

“You don’t let me. You never speak to me,” you argued, ready to turn this into a fight filled with low blows if he really wanted it to go that way. 

“You think this is a fucking walk in the park for me? Having some girl I’ve barely met in my house looking terrified of me every time I come near her? Suffering through your daily attempts to talk to me, but knowing how unbearably uncomfortable you are in being here? You think I wanted this? For either of us?” He asked seamlessly, almost in a rush to get all of his thoughts out before he thought better of it. A look of hesitation passed his face for a brief moment before he continued on, more quietly now. “You think I wanted the girl I couldn’t take my eyes off for a single day after fifth year hating being in my presence? Going behind my back to fuck someone else because I’ve held myself back in case she was uncomfortable doing anything more than just acting like my wife?” 

He didn’t meet your eye at first, but when he did you saw the weight of his emotions. He was hurt, by himself and by you. He was jealous of the man you had chosen to spend your day with. He was terrified of your reaction to his words. He was furious he even had to have this conversation, in this way, in this situation. He was relieved he finally got it all out. 

“Wh- What are you saying?” You asked cautiously, not wanting to twist his words to meet your own fantasy of having a loving husband. 

He took a deep breath before he answered, but made no moves to rid himself of his proximity to you. “Y/N, I’ve been head over heels for you since the moment we met. But having an arranged marriage, I couldn’t do much more but assume you didn’t share the same feelings as me.” 

“Oh,” was all you could even say back, too overwhelmed to think of anything else. You searched his eyes for the lie, but they held nothing but the raw truth. He must have seen something in your eyes as well, because his tone shifted into something else entirely before he spoke again. 

“Now, Y/N, I think we got off on the wrong foot and I didn’t make my intentions clear with you. I intend to be a good husband, a loving husband. And yet despite my best efforts to be the perfect gentleman so far, you went behind my back to sleep with some other man. And what does that say about you?” He asked, his eyes boring into yours as he spoke. 

You were sure he could hear your heart rate from how close he was, your pulse racing at his words. “I- I don’t know,” you stuttered, willing to let him take this wherever he saw fit. 

“I’m not going to place the blame all on you, because I know I haven’t been perfect. But one might say that you’re a dumb little whore, and I might be inclined to agree. A stupid, little girl trapped in her big, posh Manor. Going out to let any guy fuck her, not even knowing that her husband can fuck her better than anyone else could.” 

“And you could fuck me better than someone I know can?” You asked incredulously, shocked at the words spilling from his mouth. But even if you tried, you couldn’t deny the way he was so sure of himself, so sure he could please you better than any man, aroused you to no end. 

He let out a dark chuckle and looked at you, amused. “Of course I could, darling. That is, if you give me the chance,” he told you in a teasing tone, before pushing himself off of the couch to walk away. 

“Wait,” you started, once again acting on impulse. You might regret your next words, but damn it if you weren’t curious. And he was your husband after all. “Prove it.” 

“Prove it?” He asked, turning on his heel to face you again, a victorious grin written across his face. When you nodded, he only lifted a brow before he continued. “Now? Haven’t you had a long day of, oh how did you put it, ‘getting reacquainted with your ex’?” 

“You talk a big game, Draco. Now I’m asking you to prove it. Scared?” You asked, baiting him. 

In a split second and a flurry of movement later, he had you laying down against the couch, pressed into the expensive fabric, with his weight on top of you, pinning you down.  

“I’ll give you one last chance to back out of this. Tell me now, otherwise I’m going to fuck you through this couch,” he said through gritted teeth, clearly fed up with your antics. 

Without even thinking, your lips crashed onto his in a heated kiss. Lips you hadn’t felt since your wedding day. You hadn’t even remembered what they felt like until his tongue was darting along your bottom lip, hastily requesting entry. 

As your kiss remained heated, he was expertly shedding you both of your clothing until you were almost bare. He had only left you in your small, lace thong in the aftermath of his destruction. 

His hands traveled your body possessively, as if trying to memorize every curve and edge of your skin. The moment your bra came off, your breasts were in his hands, easily rolling your nipples until you were gasping for air. He swallowed all your noises greedily, as if you were feeding them to a starved man. 

It wasn’t until he pulled away, his hands resting on the waistband on your underwear, did you have a moment for a coherent thought. 

“One last time, are you sure Y/N?” He asked as if it was painful for him. As if it was the case that you said no, it would be immensely difficult for him to pull himself away. As if it was the case that you said no, he’d die a painful death at your feet. 

“I’m sure,” you said softly, not wanting him to think for a second that you had any hesitant thoughts about this moment. 

As he slowly pulled down your final layer of clothing, it gave you a chance to finally look at him.

And he was beautiful. 

He looked like an ancient Greek statue, perfectly carved and crafted out of marble come to life. His perfectly defined lines, his impossible definition, his muscles in all the right places. Your eyes eventually traveled down to his cock, and your breath hitched when you finally saw how large he was. If you had known this all along, perhaps you wouldn’t have sought out another man for your pleasure. 

He seemed to be taking you in just the same. His eye trailing down your body with such reverence that you felt like an ancient Greek goddess yourself, if only for a moment. 

“You’re gorgeous,” he said softly, almost as if he didn’t mean for you to hear the words. 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you replied, giving him a shy smile when his eyes met yours again. 

“I’ve been waiting to do this for a long time,” he told you, still in the soft tone that he had. He gracefully let his body fall back over yours, bracing himself on one forearm while his other hand traveled the length of your body. 

When he caught your lips again, it didn’t hold the same heat as before, but there was something new there. Something good. Something that could only be translated through your lips in that very moment. Something akin to adoration, worship, even love. 

His hand stopped its travels at the apex of your thighs, expertly running his fingers over your clit and down your slit, feeling for himself just how wet you were. He groaned at the feeling of how wet and warm you were, and you felt his cock twitch against your stomach in anticipation. 

He slowly opened you up for him with his fingers. First with one, then two, even venturing to three before he was content that you wouldn’t be uncomfortable. He didn’t rush the process, kept a slow, steady, predictable pace as he worked your body. And every time you got close to the edge, he’d gently bring you back down, leaving you a whining, writhing mess by the time he was aligning his cock with you. 

“Draco, please,” you begged shamelessly, more than ready for him. 

“Did you beg for him earlier?” He asked almost nonchalantly, teasing you with the tip of his cock. 

He must have seen the shock on your face, shocked that he would bring it up in this moment, because he only chuckled before pushing inside of you, a gasp easily pulled from your lips at the intense stretch. 

He didn’t fuck you gently, immediately starting with a breakneck pace that left you seeing stars from the first moment he bottomed out. You were easily rewarding him with your moans, letting him know just how good it felt without words. You couldn’t speak even if you tried. 

But he talked. Oh, yes. He ran that pretty mouth of his as if he wasn’t thrusting so deep inside of you the couch was rocking. 

“I was right, wasn’t I? You’ve never been fucked like this, have you?” He asked, right as you were beginning to climb that peak into a pleasurable abyss. 

You gave him a feeble nod in return, not trusting your own mouth to properly respond. 

“Did he fuck you like this?” He asked, biting the question out through clenched teeth as if he was dreading the answer. “Tell me, Y/N, did he?” He asked, fucking you even harder now in his frustration. 

“No,” you cried out, breaking free of your moans for a second to answer him. “He can’t fuck me like this,” you added, if only to stroke Draco’s ego, but nevertheless it was true. No one could fuck you like this. 

“Cum for me, let me feel you,” Draco said, lowering his head into the crook of your neck to ground himself, trying to fight off his orgasm until you got yours. 

It didn’t take much longer after that. He had worked you up so much beforehand that your orgasm came to you easily and came with such a force you were left breathless in its wake. Your nails carved down Draco’s muscular back, sure to leave delightful scratch marks that you could study later, as you cried out in bliss. 

The moment he felt your walls contract around him, he let himself go with a low groan. The sound was music to your ears, and only intensified the feelings you were experiencing. To have him so close, sharing in the same ecstasy you were, it was like magic. 

When you both came down from your highs, he swiftly rearranged the both of you until you wrapped in his arms, both lying on the couch. It was a strange feeling, being in his arms for the first time like this. If someone had told you this would be happening only a few hours before, you would have laughed in their face. But now here you both were, sweaty and satiated, basking in the bliss of finally consummating your marriage. 

The thought made you giggle, and when he shot you a perplexed look, you couldn’t help but explain. 

“We finally consummated our marriage,” you explained, still giggling. “And don’t worry, by the way, I’m on the potion,” you thought to add, just in case kids weren’t looming in the future for him. 

“Good to know you won’t be birthing any bastard children,” was his sullen response, clearly still hurt by the events of the day. 

You shifted your body until you were looking directly at him, but he made no moves to pull his arms away from you. If anything, he held you tighter when he felt you move, unwilling to give up the moment. 

“Look, I’m sorry about what I did today. It wasn’t right and it wasn’t fair to you. And if I had known even a fraction how you felt about me, I wouldn’t have done it, because I feel the same about you. I was just feeling incredibly stuck in what I thought was a hopeless marriage, and I was lonely, so I sought out someone else. But now I understand that that isn’t the case, and I can promise you, from the bottom of my heart, that it will never happen again,” you told him, putting everything out there for him. 

“You feel the same?” He asked timidly, after a moment of deliberation. There was a look of hope on his face, and never in your wildest dreams would you shut down such a rare display of emotion from him. Then again, you may be expecting more of his emotions from here on out. 

“Yes. I’ve always been attracted to you, and the little bits of you that I do know, I like. I want this to work, Draco. I want this to be a real marriage. All I wanted was a shot.” you said, just praying he wanted the same. 

“‘I’ll admit, I wasn’t a good husband to you by any means, and I probably unknowingly pushed you into doing what you did. But now that our intentions are out there, I’d like nothing more than to give this a real shot,” he responded, that newly familiar look of hope in his eyes present once more. 

In that moment, you could both feel it. The beginning of something great.

[magpiesbones]

just. all the characters in witch hat are so good? and the art is fucking amazing holy shit

but just. Coco and her outsider view on all magic that ricochets from “this is the coolest thing ever” to “wait why is that a rule” and Qifrey and his Incomprehensible but existent moral code that seems to be based on the sunk cost fallacy and Agott and her perfectionism and Tetia and her delight in gratitude and Richeh and her fear of unwanted growth and Olruggio and his insistence on following the rules that goes out the window if he cares about someone

like they‘re all SUCH good characters and they all illustrate one or more of the failures of witch society (Tetia isn’t super obvious or maybe I haven’t read enough to know but she definitely feels like someone who is trying to be the antithesis of something) and just aaaaaaaa

this WAS just going to be a little rant but now I think this could be a sort of meta and i think it Will. not a super detailed one because I don’t really feel like pulling sources so if you know you know and if you don’t welllll spoiler warning up to chapter 45???

so, obviously coco is the outsider view and she’s so full of wonder over magic and its possibilities even though she knows the other possibilities of magic (her mom, Romonon, Euni, etc) and the thing about Coco is that she believes that she can do anything with magic even after evidence to the contrary and she’s (and Qifrey and Coustas too, I suppose? I’m not caught up) going to prove that nonwitches can and should be allowed to learn magic, and that the barriers to learning benefit no one (it’s not like there Aren’t still brimhats, it’s just harder to combat brimhat magic)

and then (because I’m going by order of introduction) there’s Qifrey, who is. complicated. Qifrey is made of hubris and regret and vigilante justice (rereading chapter two after chapter forty gives a bit of Extra Thought) and doesn’t want to tone any of it down because this is a man who thinks that if he Deals With It it won��t bother anyone else. This is a man who does not understand a support network, not that it’s really his fault since he’s never had one that is not undercut by the Knights Moralis. He had One traumatic event occur and then the entire rest of his life has been dealing with the aftermath of this event he barely remembers, and even tho his treatment at the hands of the witches has been genuinely not great they still think they’re doing fantastic by him because they gave him the gift of magic. He is quite clearly a foil for Coco as they’re both outsiders, but Qifrey is what happens when someone would rather have good intentions than good parenting skills. This does Not excuse his behavior since I’m not apologizing for anything and also because this man is a literary device, and he is a fucking personification of the Worst consequences of isolationism on witch society. anyways this is a man who is trying his best and also who has deep issues, some of which are self esteem and others of which are anger, and he’s making mistakes.

now. Agott. I love her. This girl is a tightly pressurized container of perfectionism and spite and she is Going To Follow The Rules. Except there aren’t rules and people aren’t going to like her more if she gets everything right. she wants to be the best because she too is a consequence of isolationist witch society except she is a consequence of failed meritocracy. Agott genuinely believes the best of all witches or people who she sees as smarter than her, which is why she doesn’t understand that people Will lie to sabotage her (not sure how explicit it was but the vibe I got from Agott Backstory is that someone lied to keep her out of Arklaum Atelier), and she thinks the primary objective of everyone is to get as far up in witch society as they can on their own merit. This is a girl who did not know about nepotism and is now deeply disillusioned, which is partly something she can be because she was so privileged within witch society. She was the best because she had to be and because she had to be she was allowed to be, which now that I wrote it is a very convoluted sentence and yet the heart of Agott’s issues. She is a feedback loop of perfectionism.

Tetia: I live in hope of Tetia backstory. I don‘t know a ton about her so i can’t really analyze her But I didn’t want to leave her out.

Richeh is a consequence of the loss of creativity inherent when you have such an intrinsic Right Way To Do Things. she does things that are genuinely impossible if she tried to do them the Correct way (windowways in particular) and her fear of growth sort of mirrors the entire society’s fear of growth after traumatic incident (brimhats vs That Man) except she is letting go of it and growing and experiencing resolution in a way that other characters really haven’t.

Olruggio is absolutely wild because this is a man who is meant to report directly to witch police except he just, like, doesn’t. It’s sort of implied that he was some sort of prodigy (in ch 34-39, by Hiehart and Utowin) and it’s definitely implied that he doesn’t like being the focus of attention, so I’m going to say that he and Agott are foils. Most of what I know of Olruggio’s backstory is Blatant implication and headcanon even tho I know new chapters I haven’t gotten to yet have a little more info. I Will say that Olruggio’s technically police-adjacent role and his apparent ideaology of ‘I only break rules when I think they are dumb’ is a pretty pointed reflection of the Knights and their ‘brimhat magic is bad except when it’s useful to us’.

[peace-for-levi]

Isabel [Levi Ackerman x GN!Reader]

N.B: heya! if you're scrolling through the tags and thinking, "hey, i have read this before..." chances are you probably have! don't worry, this is not plagiarism. you read that on a - now - deleted blog (i had to restart for reasons i won't go into.) so i am reposting everything now!

synopsis: when levi's wife goes into labour, he has to drop the crude, cold façade he normally holds and be there in their time of need.

tw: possible inaccuracies as i have never been pregnant before LOL, reader is labouring, occasional use of she/her throughout, levi being soft ASF (self-indulgent all the way.)

--

You turned your head at the sound of the door and almost immediately, you felt the wintery gust flood through the narrow hallway of your house. You sucked in a breath, but you quickly smiled. After all, your husband had returned to your cosy cottage.

He shut the door behind him, and you saw him lean his head against it, heaving a great sigh. You frowned at how he almost always needed those few seconds to just process everything in his head before turning to face you. You instinctively brought a hand down to your swollen tummy - was this a good decision after all? Having a baby in these troubling, turbulent times?

But then he turned around again to face you and his face was illuminated by the amber-coloured light of the oil lamp. He saw you stirring the steaming pot of stew and his steely gaze softened immediately.

He smiled.

Don’t be silly, you chastised yourself for such thoughts, he’s happy with us.

Of course he was. He could calm down instantly looking at you. He walked over and shrugged off his forest green cloak and placed it on the counter next to you. War-torn hands reaching out and cupping your cheeks, he pressed his lips to your forehead. You felt his calloused thumbs rub against your temples and you leaned into his touch. Immediately his hands fell to your tummy and rubbed in circles.

“Dinner smells good,” he whispers softly against your lips, “how was your day?”

Dinner did smell good; nothing could beat some beef stew after a long day with your cast iron kettle hanging over the fire, right? He couldn’t wait until your bellies were filled and he could cosy up with you in front of the fire with a cup of black tea in his hand.

Your smile grew wider when he sank to his knees and nuzzled against your tummy. You were probably going to give birth in the next week or two. You lowered your right hand and allowed it to tread through his raven locks, your other hand still stirring to prevent any sticking to your pot.

“Eh…” you huffed out.

Levi pulled back for a bit. “Had an ‘eh’ day myself… What’s troubling you?”

“Just very crampy today and my back is killing me. Why did you have an ‘eh’ day?”

You almost laughed when you heard Levi’s heavy sigh, and it was a long sigh too. He closed his eyes as he recounted the disaster at HQ but… what with the amount of grief Levi had been through, there was very little that could faze him now.

Still, when he recounted to you that Hange accidentally launched one of their new projects - a thunder spear - into HQ and close to his office at that - while he was drinking his tea! - obviously he would be pretty livid. All that was destroyed in the fires of the aftermath were two bedrooms and a storage room, and thankfully no lives were lost, but he wasn’t going to forgive Hange for a while after this. You had to give him credit for his composure.

“I miss Hange, even in spite of these incidents.” You spoke.

You hadn’t seen Hange since you were discharged by Erwin at three months. Well, you had waved at her in the streets when you did your shopping for you and Levi and you might converse briefly, but she was always too busy to stop by for a chat. She did, however, say she’d be present for the birth.

“I bet he’d get along with Hange.”

“Still sure we’re having a boy?” your husband asked.

You yawned as exhaustion began to consume you more and more. “Yeah, he is giving me a lot of trouble like how his father used to.” You teased.

Levi only muttered something under his breath, and you weren’t quite sure what it was. He leaned back a bit and extended his index finger. “Oi, stop giving your mother a hard time. She’s tired.”

Another yawn. “I am, actually. I might pass on dinner tonight and just head to bed.”

Levi stood up again and eyed you curiously; wasn’t like you to skip dinner but he thought nothing of it. He mentioned he’d save some for you and with a chaste kiss to your lips, you made your way upstairs.

You opened the creaky, wooden door to your shared bedroom and when you disrobed, you rooted around for a clean nightgown in your drawers. You groaned as another sharp pain radiated around your lower back and pelvic area. You held onto the edge of the drawers with a white-knuckle grip. You had gotten cramps here and there before throughout your pregnancy, but these were just all-consuming. A few more whimpers and a few deep breaths though, and they subsided.

Hmm, weird, there’s no way it’s time already? I’m still a week or two early, you said to yourself. If he wants to come now, what will happen… would he be healthy?

You shook your head and made your way over to the bed, propping yourself up with a few pillows. It wasn’t long before Levi came into the room too with a candle in his hand before placing it down on his desk. As he removed his shirt, the dull light illuminated and highlighted his defined body. You smiled dozily at him and you were fast asleep before he could even climb into bed.

.

.

.

Awaking in the middle of the night with your husband’s arms wrapped around you was always a treat. He didn’t always sleep, and when he did, it was poor. But whenever his arms snaked around your chest with one hand resting on your tummy, you knew he was sleeping well. It gave you a chance to look at his unguarded and peaceful countenance.

You woke up with a feeling of heartburn that was hard to ignore so you decided a drink of water might be a good idea. You made your way downstairs, careful not to wake your sleeping husband. Leaning against the countertop once you reached the kitchen, you fetched yourself a glass of water and began to sip slowly.

Gulping the last bit down, you placed the glass in a sink and walked towards the stairs again… until you felt a gush of warm liquid flow down your legs.

Oh, crap!

You peered down at the pool of fluid between your legs that was now pooling in your hallway. Your mind froze and all you could do was stare for a few seconds.

“U-uh… Levi?!” you shrieked.

You heard a large thud from upstairs when he landed less than gracefully - unceremoniously, even - after jumping from your bed and he was quick to scurry down the stairs at the yell.

“What the hell?! Are you ok--?”

He stopped when his bare feet splashed against the pool of fluids between you both.

“Oh, my?” he questioned and peered down. “Is it that time already?”

You only blinked at his calmness at the situation. How was he not freaking out?! Your fingers moved to clench your soaking gown. He reached for your hands and walked you towards the front door. He stopped for a few seconds as he scratched his head in thought.

“Levi?!” you screeched at his silence.

He had to stay as calm as possible. It was something he was well used to, being a good captain and all. But it was so different in this situation. Seeing you panic like this and the gravity of the situation made him almost lose his composure. He was able to keep everything well hidden beneath his steely exterior and this was all because he was good at analysing typically abnormal situations.

This wasn’t a situation like this. All he had to do was be a supportive husband for you.

As he hurried down the stairs again, the realization dawned on him again.

Was this actually happening? Were you two going to be parents? Could you two do this?

Well, it was not like you had a choice now.

“Come, let’s get moving.” He said, holding you with one hand by the small of your back.

He assisted you back up the stairs as fast as your body would allow, but once you got to the bathroom just a few metres shy of your bedroom, that’s when you felt everything tighten and your breath became lodged in your throat. Your legs buckled as your hands gripped onto the architrave. Levi was quick to descend with you and hold your hand. A pained groan escaped your lips and you heard deep breaths beside you.

“Deep breaths, you can do it, [F/n]...” he said as he rubbed your back in circles. He tried to do deep breathing with you, taking long, exaggerated breaths. All to feel you a little less alone or too lost in your own pain.

It wasn’t the worst pain you had experienced - you were a former veteran of the Scouts after all - but that didn’t make the feeling pleasant either.

He propped up all the pillows to give you ample support and he placed a hand on your shin, gesturing you to keep your legs open. It seemed that the next contraction seemed to be taking its time, so he made the decision to alert the neighbours. This was a plan Levi had made with them a few months ago, that he’d call next door and ask them to go rush to the nurses and for Hange. Luckily for you two, HQ was no more than a five-minute walk away.

After slipping into a dress shirt and black slacks, he ran down the stairs and hopped over the wall to your neighbour. It was close to midnight now, but hopefully they’d be awake… If not, he’d have to leave you alone by yourself and that was not an option.

He rapped on the door and even called out to them, before knocking again. Thankfully, the middle-aged man and his wife seemed to be up and were quick to open the door.

Perhaps Levi looked a bit more flustered than he thought he did. Then again, as someone so composed all the time, any change in composure screamed out.

“Captain Levi? Is everything alright?” the wife asked.

Levi inhaled sharply. Damn, he was getting stressed already. If they were to shine the oil lamp up to his face, they would be able to see the sweat beading at his brows and how his pupils had narrowed from the intensity of the situation. “[F/n] has gone into labour, earlier than we expected. She needs the nurses a-and Hange--” Fuck, was he stuttering from it all? “I can’t leave her alone to get them and-”

The wife who was probably a good three inches shorter than him looked up at him and passed him a soft smile; a reassuring smile. She had been through all this before. She knew the chaos involved but knew the best thing he could be was a pillar of support for you. She placed her hands on his shoulders and got her to look at him. Normally he’d shrug off any physical contact from anyone that wasn’t you, but his mind was spiralling, and he was doing his best to hide it.

“Levi, it’s okay. Dear, you go get the nursing staff and Hange, okay?” she called out to her husband who had already saddled up in the meantime and taken off. “My husband will be back soon. Let me get you a few things.”

Levi tapped his foot impatiently as she pattered around the house for a bit. She came back with a bag of rags, towels and some knitted clothes.

“It’s important you stay calm, okay? What do you think you’ll have?”

Levi shrugged as he nodded his thanks. “I don’t know, of course, but [F/n] reckons we’ll have a boy.”

“Hmm… I think you’ll have a daughter!” she beamed.

Levi began to head out the door again. “Look, thank you so much for everything.”

“Best of luck, Levi,” she wished with a gleeful smile, “and congratulations.”

Levi nodded with the bag and headed back up the stairs of his home. He burst through the door of your bedroom and was immediately at your side again. He dropped the bag down at your bedside and reached for your hand. He caught you just in time for another contraction. You tried to steady yourself, but you cried out once more and gripped onto the blankets as another contraction overwhelmed you. You hastily grabbed a pillow and cried into it, trying to muffle your cries. Okay, it was official, this was the worst pain you had felt thus far, and all Levi could do was stare helplessly.

It’s not like he could do much. He couldn’t take away the pain from you, but by god, he wished he could. He’d deliver the child if biologically possible, anything to not see you in so much agony. But every time a contraction died away, you would re-emerge and tackle this again with an ungodly amount of strength.

And he couldn’t be prouder of you in these agonizing yet awe-inspiring moments.

You lowered your pillow when you vaguely heard the crowd of nurses patter into the room and everything kicked off. The lead nurse stated she’d be the main overseer to everything. At times, Levi’s mind flitted in and out of the conversation at hand from the nurses. His stare glossed over occasionally, and you couldn’t exactly decipher what it was he was feeling. Whatever it was he was feeling, he hid it well. He absent-mindedly rubbed the small of your back hoping you’d relax as the nurse checked your cervix. His ears perked up once he heard the number ‘three.’

“Three centimetres, seven to go, I reckon.”

“OOH, SEVEN?! HOW EXCITING!” a voice from outside screeched and Levi’s face fell flat. The bespectacled brunette burst through the door. “THAT’S SO FEW!”

“Hange.” Levi barked. He said nothing but his gaze said, be quiet now. “If you’re not gonna be helpful to [F/n], you can leave out the door you came in.”

“Sorry, sorry,” she aired as she rushed over to the other side of your bed and sat on top. “How are you doing, [f/n]? Anything I can do?” she asked. At first you shook your head, but when she mentioned that she brought a few scented candles to help soothe you - or at the very least, keep a gentle ambiance going - you perked up. “Okay, I’ll go light them. Levi, do you have any matches?”

“In the high cupboard left to the sink.” He said and she scurried down.

“Fuck… Levi, it’s happening again…” you groaned as you tossed your head back.

“I have you.” He reminded. He loosened his hand so you could squeeze it. With each contraction came a pain that dominated your entire being. In those moments, for those seconds that stretched into infinity, there was nothing else. Every contraction seemed to hurt more than before, and you would be left panting and almost delirious for a few seconds. Everything melted into the background when a contraction came; the nurses melted to nothing as did their encouraging cries.

But you remained grounded to Levi. He held your hand with every contraction and his lips were pressed to your sweaty temple. While you could only vaguely hear his encouraging words, he was still there and encouraging you to breathe deeply through it all, even if it hardly did anything to alleviate the pain.

“How much longer will this take?”

“She progressed quickly enough to get to the three so it may not take too long. Though it could just as easily be another few hours, or even well into tomorrow. I’m sorry, there’s no way of knowing.” The nurse replied.

Levi only nodded. He just wanted you to be okay and to make this as pain-free as possible. Hange came back in with the matches and began to light a few candles.

As time passed, your head fell. The contractions kept coming but you weren’t progressing as fast as you thought. By the time the second hour rolled by, you had only made it to four centimetres. You were reminded that you’d know when to push.

Levi couldn’t stand to see you in so much pain.

“Is there anything we can do?” he asked, now getting slightly panicked.

The nurse smiled sadly, knowing there was only so much they could do. “[F/n], how about a walk out in the fresh air?” she offered.

Levi peered over at you. Within the past two hours, he had acquired a basin and wet cloth, and was dabbing it occasionally on your forehead. “How about it?” he asked, repeating the motion of it as you lifted your head up again to receive his touch.

“If I walk down those stairs, I don’t think I’ll make it back up…” you huffed.

Hange had taken to holding your other hand too. Levi’s initial glare at her excitement seemed to do the trick and she was very helpful. Perhaps more proactive than the nurses. Then again, she was your best friend; she probably wanted to do everything under the sun.

“A bath may help?” Hange perked up. “Warm water and all?” to which you nodded.

Levi stood and pulled you up. Before you may have walked upright and with your back straight, but now you walked totally hunched over. He ordered for someone - anyone who could get there fastest - to draw a bath. A few stayed behind in the bedroom, taking turns supervising you.

Levi walked you towards the bathroom and unbuttoned your nightgown. With an ‘arms up’ command, he had it off you quickly and you were left in just your bra. He lowered you into the bath and you sat in the middle of the tub. He questioned why you weren’t going to lean back and that was when you asked him to come into the bath with you. He wasn’t going to fight you in the moment and rushed back to the bedroom and put on a pair of (swimming) shorts… or shorts he had no issue getting wet. Within mere seconds, he lowered himself into the bath and wrapped his legs loosely around your waist, his chest firm against your back. He began to rub your arms up and down and leaned over to press a kiss to your cheek.

“You’re doing so well.” He said. His tone lowered to a whisper when he heard you begin to weep. “Hey, hey, hey… What’s wrong? Ah-- Hange, can you go get us a basin?” he asked. Your face paled a little and he shouted for the Titan scientist to hurry as another contraction washed over you.

“L-Levi, I don’t feel right…”

“Hange!” he barked for the third time.

You brought a hand up to your mouth and expelled whatever food had been inside you from before. The pain of this contraction was so intense you had thrown up. Levi swept a thumb across your chin and Hange came in with a basin, and you spilled the rest into it. In fact, you threw up twice more. The bitter taste in your mouth left you feeling all disgusting and ‘icky’, and you let out a choked sob of frustration. Your body had you rocking back and forth on its own accord, trying to move with the pain so to speak, letting out pained groans through gnashed teeth.

Levi leaned you forward and began to rub your lower back. “Breathe. You gotta breathe, [f/n], come on.”

You shook your head as you wailed, almost sounding like you were giving in. “I can’t! It’s too much, Levi!”

“Hey,” he called gently. “Sniff the flowers,” he commanded and paused to breathe in, “and blow out the candles” and he exhaled. “You can do that for me?”

You weren’t sure about how the silly visual cue helped you at all, but you also knew Levi wasn’t going to quit saying it until you did what he told you to do. After a few deep breaths, you calmed down and your contraction died away. Levi continued to rub your lower back, offering whispered words of encouragement.

“Gosh, Shorty, aren’t you such a sweetie?” Hange jeered.

“Go away, Four Eyes.”

The contractions came and went, growing more and more intense. Levi sometimes opted to swish the water down and forth or turn on the tap, to give you something else to focus on. You weren’t sure how long you two stayed in the bath, but Levi helped lift you out once the water had gotten cold. Hange went to relight the candles, pillows were propped back up and you were moved back to your bedroom, to do the whole thing all over again.

And frankly, you weren’t sure how long you could hold on for. It was unbearable. As the hours ticked by until the wee morning, you were losing your strength.

“I’m sorry.” Levi mumbled as he kissed your matted hair.

“It hurts so much. I’m so tired.” You whispered, your voice dry and hoarse.

Levi looked up at the nurse and then over at the small clock on your bedside lock. Seven in the morning, so you had been labouring for seven hours, if not more if you were experiencing smaller contractions before your water broke.

How he ached to take all your pain away from you; to shoulder it all and save you from this agony. You both knew it would be worth it at the end, but the process of getting there was no doubt painful.

“You’re doing well. It’ll all be over soon, won’t it?” he asked and looked at the nurse.

“I’ll go see how far you are,” she said, softly. You let your legs widen as she did another cervical exam. You flinched a bit as you felt her gloved fingers inside. She gasped. “My, you’re almost there. Easily nine centimetres!”

For the first time in a couple hours, you felt genuine relief amidst all the chaos and pain.

.

.

.

Levi had sent the nurses and Hange downstairs an hour later, telling them they were free to help themselves to food stored in your cupboards. They had been crowding around you both for over eight hours now, they deserved a break too. You were fine with your husband sitting through your contractions with you, especially when you only had a centimetre or two left.

That was when you felt an excruciating pain down below, unlike anything you had felt all evening. Levi was at your side in seconds.

“What is it?”

“Hnnn!” you groaned out. This was it. This had to be it, the feeling the nurses told you about. An overwhelming amount of pressure was building between your legs and you let out a guttural noise. “Get Hange and the nurses.”

“Wait, is time? Now-”

“Get the fucking nurse, Levi!” you yelled, and he ran down to fetch them.

The pressure had your hips swaying into position, it was almost unbearable to refrain from pushing. The pain had your whole body trembling. Levi arrived back in with the nurses and you opened your legs at the lead nurse’s command. Your husband was sitting by your side once more, lacing his fingers with yours.

“I see a head! And plenty of hair too! The baby has moved into the birth canal. I need you to push on the next contraction.” She explained.

You heaved in massive strokes, starting to lose your breath. You were completely worn out now, body and mind. You all waited with bated breaths for the next contraction to hit. You took in a massive breath when you felt that familiar pain come back again. Your stomach tightened - everything tightened - as a scream ripped out from your throat.

“You have got to push harder, [f/n].” The nurse urged. Hange came in, sitting on the bed and shuffled onto the bed to hold your other hand.

You shook your head. There was no way you could, you were so depleted of energy.

“You can do this.” Your husband said.

“I can’t! You have to do it for me!” you wept into his arms.

“I would if I could.” He assured you.

The nurse called for your attention. “The next time you push, tuck your chin into your chest and push as though you got to do a number two. But push very hard.”

You blinked frantically. “Wait, what if I do poop?”

“That means you’re pushing right!” Hange cheered.

This entire conversation made Levi grimace, and it took every ounce of self-control to not cringe.

The final contraction hit and with whatever strength you could muster, you pushed through with a shrill cry. The baby began to crown, the hot stretching of flesh almost making you want to stop but you had to keep pushing through. You felt the head leave your body and you pushed through the rest of your contraction. You held onto Levi’s hand with such force he was pretty sure you could have broken it. And he would have taken it.

And then the pain left your body finally.

Tiny cries pierced the air.

Levi tilted your head back and his lips crashed against yours in a kiss that carried so many emotions with it; love, adoration, pride, elation and gratitude. He kissed you again and once more while your baby was being wrapped up. One of the extra nurses moved to clean you up and help deliver the placenta.

“A girl, congratulations.” The nurse whispered. Hange cracked a toothy grin, but she knew to step back and leave you two to have your moment.

You looked down at your wrapped-up little miracle, falling in-love instantly. Had her father’s hair and gunmetal eyes, but your eye shape and complexion. She also had your chin too. Your index finger rubbed against her plump cheeks and almost began to whimper again but with a few gentle hushes from you, she settled down once more. She was probably hungry too.

“She looks so much like you…” you whispered, looking up at your husband. The nurses and Hange took this as their cue to leave. Levi’s eyes had completely glossed over with a newfound vulnerable expression that you had never seen before. You could tell he was just itching to hold her, so as gently as you could, you shuffled over to the side to allow Levi to relax into the headrest. “Here, Levi.”

Your little girl was placed into his arms and a calloused thumb immediately went to trace under her eyes and around her cheeks, her forehead; everywhere. A swell of emotions overcame him like a tsunami crashing against the shoreline and he shut his eyes, tears flowing down his pallid cheeks and he made no effort to stop them. His lower lips trembled, and minute whimpers escaped his lips, but he was desperately clawing at whatever composure he had left to try to piece himself back together.

But he could cry, his daughter was here. He was a father now; he could be as emotional as he liked, and no one would care.

“Isabel.” You said, gently, and Levi nodded at the suggestion.

Levi’s thumb moved to his daughter’s fist and her fingers latched around it instantly, bringing his thumb to her mouth and began to suck. He let out a soft chuckle. “I think she’s hungry.”

“I bet she is.” You said, reaching out and taking a hold of her once more. The baby began to wriggle, and her arms broke free from the blanket, beginning to fuss. You lowered one side of your nightgown and held your daughter against your breast. She latched after a few seconds and by god was it uncomfortable. The feeling had you biting your lower lip in discomfort, but you just had to grin and bear it.

The three of you sat in silence for another half hour or so as you nursed your baby when you heard a knock on the door. Hange peeked her head around and smiled widely at you both.

“Shhh.” Levi was quick to say.

Hange tiptoed in. “I may have bought a few visitors…”

The raven-haired man’s face fell flat. “How many?”

And in came all of Levi’s newest squad and Erwin. He face-palmed at the noise and shrugged off his blazer to cover you and your daughter.

“Is this a bad time, Levi?”

“Yes, it’s a bad time. She’s barely been born a half hour and--”

“I KNEW IT WOULD BE A GIRL! TAKE THAT, MISTER DEATH WISH!” you heard come from outside the room. You only sighed softly.

“I tried to keep those two out of this,” Erwin mentioned as he walked over to the two of you. You removed your baby from your breast and buttoned up your nightgown again. The blonde smiled in pure adoration. “She’s so precious. Congratulations, Levi, [F/n].”

“Thank you, Erwin.” He replied and you nodded your thanks.

In your half-asleep state, you began to nurse again in front of everyone, not bothering to cover up. Levi sighed heavily and moved to cover you up again before you came through.

“Sir, we can call back later if you want.” Eren piped up, walking over to stand by his superior.

“It’s okay, Eren, this is natural. I don’t mind, provided you don’t stare too much.”

“I mind?!” Levi cried. With your free hand, you rested it on his hand. He took a deep breath and sighed. “Fine. You can stay, Jaeger. All of you can.”

Sasha and Connie were next to try to squeeze onto your too small bed for nine extra people.

“I brought her some potatoes!” she chimed and handed one to you. You had to politely explain that babies probably won’t eat until four months at the earliest. And even then, it would only be baby gloop and mushy foods. Not steamed potatoes.

Connie peaked over Levi’s shoulder. “Do you mind?” Levi asked him rhetorically.

“Nope,” he answered swiftly and saluted. On the wrong side. “Sir, why does it look squishy and ugly?”

And then ensued a fiery debate from everyone in the room (apart from Erwin) on why you shouldn’t call babies squishy and ugly, especially in front of their parents. Especially if one of those parents was one Levi Ackerman. But amidst all the commotion, both you and your baby were tuckered out. Levi was surprised that he saw you dozing off in spite of all the ruckus and that your baby was suckling away on nothing.

The short man may have had his doubts before Isabel was born but looking at everyone around here right now - being so chaotic and noisy, but so full of happiness and pride for you both - made all those negative thoughts wash away.

It took a bit of shuffling and squeaking of military boots, but eventually everyone was kicked out by Levi. He looked back fondly at you two, both of you sound asleep.

He would promise you both a normal, peaceful, family life one day. Even if he had to lay down his life doing it.

Because every doubt, struggle, emotional outburst, hormonal-fuelled argument led you both to this, and he would not trade it for the world.

This was his purpose; protect his beautiful wife and precious daughter.

And maybe one day, in the distant future, he would be able to spend more time with you two. In a world without Titans. In a world that was peaceful.

But for now, he had a small serving - a slice - of peace at home and he couldn’t wait to navigate this new chapter of his life with you.

[gladerscake]

No One Better

(Gally x Reader)

Hope you have some time, because this one’s large and in charge (of the feels, that is). Huge thanks to all the lovely people who encourage me to keep writing. Enjoy!

A few beads of sweat rolled down your temple, your bottom lip beginning to sting from how hard you were biting down on it, your brows furrowed in intense concentration, all while you were struggling to finally saw through this one stupid chunk of wood. It was a particularly thick one - you’ve been at it for almost ten minutes, with frustratingly minimal results. The muscles of your right arm were positively aching, pleading for you to drop the shucking saw and just ask somebody for help.

However, your resolve was stronger than your protesting muscles. You could do this. You didn’t need help.

You gave yourself a minute to rest before drawing in a deep, determined breath, and getting right back to it. You couldn’t believe it - will all this effort, you’d only managed to saw through half of it, thus far. Gally always made it look so easy...

“Having a bit of trouble there, baby?”

Your mouth immediately curled in a little grin at the deep sound of his voice. Gally’s voice. As if on cue, just when you were beginning to think about him.

The Keeper of the Builders, who you now proudly called your boyfriend, seemed to have a sixth sense for those things. To anything that had to do with you, really.

It’s been a bit over a week, since you two had made the fateful transition from close friends to something much, much more thrilling. And even though it hasn’t been that long since the change of your relationship’s nature, you could say, without question or a shadow of a doubt, that you’ve never felt happier.

The way Gally treated you on the daily, with such gentleness, care, and endless affection, made your heart bloom with delight at his mere presence. You couldn’t say you had been shocked by his manner - he’s always been kind to you, since the moment you two have met. But seeing this side of him, the loving and warm side, the one nobody else but you got to see, was a gift in itself. You believed you were immensely lucky that Gally returned your feelings and wanted you by his side, and you couldn’t wish for someone better. To you, there was no one better - simple as that.

As of this moment, you chose to bite back a cheeky remark in response to Gally’s slightly teasing question. Instead, you straightened out your posture, allowing your grin to grow as you loosened your death-grip on the saw handle and turned to face him.

“Me? Not at all! What gave you that impression?” You chirped as Gally chuckled, deeply, taking a big step closer to you. His striking bluish-green eyes peered down at your delicate features, an amused grin playing at the corners of his mouth. God, you could never get used to how attractive he was to you...

“You’re kidding, right? I could hear your grunts all the way from the Deadheads.” He glanced at the saw in your hand, trailing his gaze to the chunk of wood and your underwhelming progress, and swiftly figured out what was causing his girl such distress.

You playfully rolled your eyes at his comment “Well, not everyone is a big hunk of muscle like you, my Keeper.”

Gally tried to control the blush he instantly knew was about to paint his cheeks. ‘My Keeper’. You’ve been calling him that often since you two became a couple, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t absolutely love it. It almost always distracted him from whatever he was doing or talking about, but he didn’t mind. He definitely didn’t want you to stop.

Nonetheless, he kept his composure and cleared his throat, grinning down at you “You flatter me, baby. But you’re not wrong.”

You released a light-hearted laugh as he quickly scooted behind you. “Here, let me help.”

You felt a familiar warmth spreading through your body and circling your abdomen as Gally reached around you, his powerful torso nearly pressing against your back, his calloused hand enclosing around your smaller fingers on the handle, in order to guide your movements. Your pulse was already beginning to quicken, your face gradually getting hotter, as you struggled to ignore the effect his closeness was having on you.

“T-Thanks...”

Gally pressed a sweet peck to your cheek as he tightened his grip “Mm-hm. Now, shoulder up...” He instructed, softly, his breath slightly tickling your ear. You did as told. “Yep, just like that. Now lock your elbow. Your arm’s a little wobbly - that’s why it’s taking so much out of you.” Again, you did as he said, doing your earnest to focus on the task at hand, and not on your boyfriend’s low, breathy voice in your ear, or the heat of his strong body, or the way his arms felt around you...

“Like that?” You inquired, timidly, glancing up at his freckled face.

“Exactly. Now, drag it back and forth, and don’t squeeze the handle too hard - you’re just wasting energy that way.”

You took a deep breath and proceeded sawing through the wood, with Gally’s help, as he kept a firm grip on your hand. To your surprise and relief, it really did feel a lot easier, now that you were no longer straining your muscles in all the wrong ways, and in a matter of minutes, the sawed-off piece fell to the ground with a soundly “thump”.

You let out a victorious laugh, causing Gally to chuckle at your reaction. He thought it was entirely too cute.

“Finally! I did it!” You beamed at your boyfriend as he pried the handle out of your hand, placing the saw on the work table before interlacing his fingers with your own.

“You sure did. Next time, if you’re struggling with something, just come get me, okay? There’s nothing wrong with asking for help.” He smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You closed your eyes, blissfully, giving him a short nod of agreement. “Fine, fine, if you insist...” You mumbled, the urge to kiss him coating your senses and pulling you closer into him. You didn’t fight it. Standing up on your tippy-toes, your linked your arms around his neck and leaned in, pressing your soft lips against his, your ears basking in Gally’s deep hum of satisfaction. His hands wasted no time gripping your waist as he kissed you deeper, his lips moving so seamlessly and tantalizingly against your own, your mind beginning to swim at the sensation.

Despite not wanting to break the kiss, the distant sounds of other gladers working and chattering forced you to stay aware of your surroundings as you reluctantly pulled away from Gally’s lips with a sweet final peck. The builder grinned, giving your waist a languid squeeze before delivering you a wink that almost made your knees buckle.

“As much as it kills me, I gotta get back to work, baby.” He feigned a sneer as you chuckled, nodding in compliance and unwinding your arms from around his neck. You stepped back, already missing his closeness and warmth.

“Same here. Meet you at dinner?”

“You’d better!” Gally smiled, genuinely, before turning on his heels and departing to his task of fixing the Med Hut’s leaky roof.

-later that day-

“Alright, boys, let’s wrap this up. We’ll get back to it first thing tomorrow.” Gally clapped a couple of his builders on their backs - his way of letting them know they had done a good job without actually having to say it. He wasn’t big on dishing out praise and compliments, unless it came to you.

“Whatever you say, boss!” Scott, one of his most capable builders, quipped as he climbed down from the roof, fist-bumping a couple of his friends while they stretched their sore muscles.

Gally huffed to himself before going to pick up his instruments, his tall form disappearing from the guys’ line of vision.

As soon as the Keeper appeared to be gone, Scott’s expression promptly melted from cool to sour, a hint of spite flashing through his eyes.

“Looks like someone’s in a hurry to get back to his girlfriend.” He deliberately over enunciated the last word, frowning, as if just the thought of it was too ridiculous to occur.

Another builder, Jack, cocked a questioning brow at his friend “Oh? Jealous much?”

Scott rolled his eyes in response “I just don’t get it! How did that even happen? Why him? She had like forty shanks to choose from, and she went for him?”

Jack had to snicker at the guy’s plain and obvious jealousy, the sight of it being thoroughly entertaining. “Hey, easy, man! Clearly she sees something we can’t. She’s made her choice - deal with it.”

“Yeah, but did she have to pick the ugliest one? I mean, honestly, if it were someone like Minho, or Ben, or hell, even Newt, I’d sort of get it, but...”

Gally scoffed, bitterly, rejecting the idea of listening to the rest of that lovely conversation. Did they really think he couldn’t hear them? He’s only been a few feet away this whole time, for shuck’s sake. His features darkened, his hands clenching into fists. He knew it was stupid to let something like that get to him - obviously it was nothing more than jealous ramblings of some dumb shank, who would most likely wet himself if he knew Gally had heard him.

Still, as much as he despised to admit it... It stung, hearing that. Mostly because, deep down, some obnoxiously self-deprecating part of him, agreed with Scott’s words.

Gally had never really given much thought to his looks. That is, until you came along. As his feelings for you grew, so did his insecurity. He knew he wasn’t conventionally “hot”. True, he was one of the tallest guys in the glade, and he assumed he had a nice body, thanks to his job as a builder, so he at least had that going for him. His face, however... Gally didn’t believe it was anything to be considered “handsome”. As opposed to you, who he thought was the most gorgeous thing he’d ever laid eyes on.

He hated this, hated feeling like he didn’t deserve you, hated knowing that you could probably do so much better than him, especially when you weren’t there to reassure him, to tell him otherwise and kiss away his every troubled thought.

Gally growled, internally, his jaw tensing and his knuckles turning white. No, he needed to snap out of it. What the hell? You wanted him. You chose him, you were with him, you were his. He couldn’t let his faith in your devotion to him crumble, just because some dumbass had opened his big resentful mouth.

With an exasperated grunt, Gally stalked off to meet you for dinner, as promised. He was sure that as soon he saw your face, he would forget all about what had just happened. He hoped gazing into your glimmering eyes would be enough to hush every last unwelcome thought. Yet, as hopeful as he was for that, the tension in his broad shoulders remained, as if something heavy was weighing down on him, with very little he could do about it.

-later-

Something deep within you was telling you something wasn’t right. You felt a nagging sting of worry pinching at your heart as you made your way back to Gally’s hut, that you and him now shared.

You couldn’t help but sense that Gally had seemed a bit... off, all throughout dinner. The soft smiles he’d sent your way didn’t reach his eyes. His usually bright bluish-green eyes had been tinged with an underlying bleakness, and you had no clue where it was coming from. You’d tried to ask him about it, but the only response you got was a mumbled “It’s nothing” and a hurried kiss on your cheek.

You didn’t like it. You knew Gally so well by now - you could tell when something was bothering him. You cared about him, deeply, and so, seeing him so obviously anxious about something and not telling you what it was, put you in a bothered state as well.

Whatever it was, you needed to get it out of him. Gally was your boyfriend, and a pretty amazing one at that. If there was anything at all that you could do to help him deal with what was plaguing mind, you would do it, over and over again, if you had to.

You pushed the door open and entered the hut, a loving smile curling your lips as your eyes fell upon Gally. The builder was sitting on the bed, busily scribbling something in his journal, his knit brows and slightly clenched jaw painting his face with a look of pure concentration. Probably sketching in some alterations for the Med Hut expansion. You released a muted giggle, thinking his expression was entirely cute.

Gally immediately looked up at the sound that escaped you, his smile reflecting your own, his deeply focused gaze softening the second it landed on you “Almost bed time, huh?”

“Yes, indeed.” You delivered a little grin as you shut the door behind you and approached him, your delicate hands landing on his shoulders with a pleasant squeeze “And you’re still not done working?” You eyed the journal in Gally’s hands.

He responded with a scratchy chuckle “Perks of being a keeper, baby - I’m never done.” He feigned a deep sigh that made you giggle once more, but nonetheless, placed the journal aside, wanting to give you his full attention.

The only instances where you two got to be truly alone with one another were early in the morning and right before bed, so Gally cherished these moments with you. He would spend every second of every day alone with you if he could, but for the time being, he’d take what ever little scraps of time he could get.

“Well, I’m here now, so... Maybe you’re done, after all?” You smiled, your hands kneading his shoulders in a relaxing manner, feeling his firm muscles slowly release built-up tension under your touch.

Gally grunted, deep in his throat, as his own hands took a hold of your waist, pulling you closer in a not-so subtle motion.

“I sure as hell am, now...” The deep, slightly raspy tone of his voice made you weak in ways you hadn’t imagined before, but you were far from complaining.

With a playful smirk, Gally suddenly fell back on the bed, and you yelped in surprise as with one simple, yet effective tug, he brought you down with, causing you to topple onto him.

“Gally!” You attempted to scold, lightly slapping his chest, but the laughter bubbling from within you, as well as the rising pink hue to your cheeks, let him know how you truly felt about it.

“Aww! Sorry, is this too much?” He asked, almost rhetorically, a cheeky glint dancing in his eyes.

The blush adorning your cheeks only grew as you gazed down at him in pure fascination. Sometimes you still couldn’t believe Gally was yours, that you got to see the side of him everyone else was blind to. You shook your head, leaning down to plant an amorous kiss on his plump lips, as he took no time melting into it with a low-pitched hum. His large hands, warm and eager, gripped your waist tighter as he shifted you both up the bed, until the back of his head almost knocked against the makeshift wooden frame. You whimpered, softly, against his mouth before breaking the kiss. You witnessed, with a tinge on satisfaction, that his freckle-littered cheeks were now even redder than your own, his breath escaping through his parted lips as he stared at you like you were something out of this world.

Gally felt like he could never get enough of you. Your closeness had his heart nearly beating out of his chest, and the intoxicating sensation of your lips on his sent him reeling with more need than he knew what to do with. However, as he gazed at you, taking in every detail of your breathtaking features, his mind involuntarily called back to his inner turmoil, a couple hours prior. The spark in his eyes dulled, the corner of his lips twitching with a barely-noticeable frown as he was pulled back into that loathsome state of self-doubt he’d tried so hard to fight against.

The rapid change in his expression, as minimal as it was, did not evade your notice. In a blink of an eye, your dream-like state morphed to concern as you reached up a hand to cup his warm cheek “Hey... Gally, what’s wrong?”

He huffed a light puff of air, tilting his head to nuzzle his face into your cupped hand, the small gesture nearly making you swoon.

“It’s nothing. Stupid. Don’t worry about it, baby.” Gally mumbled, the response identical to the one you’d received at dinner.

Well, that wasn’t going to be good enough this time. You frowned in sympathy “Yeah, that’s what you said earlier, too. I didn’t believe it then, and I don’t believe it now.”

Gally relinquished a hushed groan, evidently reluctant to share what was on his mind, but all you wanted was for him to know that there was nothing in the world he couldn’t talk to you about. You leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the exasperated crease on his forehead, momentarily feeling it smoothen out under your lips.

“Come on... please? I can’t go to sleep if I know something’s bothering you.”

Gally sighed, deeply, his intent gaze meeting your own, and once again you were met with the somber pool of dejection that you had been so quick to spot.

To say he was hesitant to discuss it would be an understatement, but the plea in your gaze and soft voice was impossible for him to ignore. There probably wasn’t a single thing you couldn’t get out of him.

With a defeated grunt, Gally reached a hand up to carefully thread his calloused fingers through your silky hair, his voice dipping an octave lower as he finally spoke “Sometimes it just doesn’t feel like I’m good enough for you, Y/N.”

Your breath hitched at the mere sound of those words leaving his mouth. You felt a ferocious urge to stop him right then and there, yet... you didn’t. No, you couldn’t interrupt. You asked for this, for his honesty, so now he was giving you exactly that. You had to let him finish.

“I mean... You could’ve had anyone. Absolutely shuckin’ anyone, but for a reason I still don’t fully understand, you’ve picked me.” Gally bit the inside of his cheek, his rough fingertips turning cold as he let the words fall from his mouth. “I know what people are thinking. ‘What the hell is an amazing, sweet, funny, beautiful girl like you, doing with one of the ugliest shanks here?’. And you know what? I hate it, but they’re not wrong.”

Every sentence shot an icy pain through your heart as you had to bite your bottom lip to physically restrain yourself from shutting him up. You couldn’t stand that Gally was so critical of himself, especially when you saw him as the best thing that’s ever happened to you.

“And please don’t take this the wrong way - I’m not doubting your... feelings for me, and I’m so lucky that they’re even there, it’s just...” He trailed off, briefly, wanting to choose his next words carefully. “It’s a bit of a struggle to understand. Because you deserve the best, and I’m... well, hardly that.”

A short pause. Finally, it sounded like he was finished, and now it was your time to let him know precisely how you felt about all of it.

With a preparatory intake of air, you cupped his face in both hands, making him look nowhere else but at you, your eyes shining with determined empathy. “Gally... I chose you, because it’s always been you. Forty shanks here, and not one of them ever made me feel even a fraction of what you make me feel. I can’t explain why, because it’s not something that has an explanation - I don’t have an alphabetised list of reasons why I fell for you! I just... did. Because of who you are - that’s everything about you. And I don’t know who you’re calling ‘ugly’, because it sure as hell isn’t my boyfriend.” You paused, watching his eyes as he stared at you, mesmerized, without blinking, his mouth falling slightly agape as you could practically hear his heartbeat drumming in his chest. “So... Yeah, I can confidently say, without question, that I’m pretty happy with what I chose.”

After a few seconds of wired silence, Gally finally broke out of his entranced stupor, his voice nearly quivering as he traced a finger down the soft curve of your jaw.

“And what is it, that you chose?”

His touch made the loving warmth within you spread like wildfire, soothing your throbbing heart and coaxing a delicate grin to etch your lips “The best.”

At that, Gally released a short, incredulous huff, but couldn’t find it in himself to question it any further. You were truly a gift to him, a gift he had no idea what he’d done to deserve. In that moment, all the worries he’d had were effectively silenced, pushed away into the farthest, deepest crevices of his mind, not to be heard from again in a long time, if ever. Not a minute more would be wasted caring about anyone else’s opinion on your relationship with him. The only one that mattered was yours, and that’s the one he would hold into, for as long as you’d allow it. For as long as you’d want him.

Gally’s muscular arms wrapped around your frame, pulling you into him, tightly and protectively, as he buried his face in your hair, trying to get you as close as humanly possible, and still feeling like it wasn’t enough.

You responded by nuzzling into the warm crook of his neck, your lips pressing the gentlest of kisses to his sun-kissed skin, the heat of his strong chest soaking into you and shrouding you in an impenetrable sense of comfort and love. His love. The type nothing else could compare to or dare to challenge.

“You know, the day you change your mind will definitely be the most devastating of my life...” Gally whispered, almost inaudibly, the consuming safety of his embrace clouding your senses.

All you could do was breathe a soft chuckle, holding onto him tighter as your lips murmured against his neck “I guess it’s a good thing that day isn’t coming.”

Because in your mind, with all the uncertainties and uneasiness that surrounded the glade, that was the one thing you didn’t have a single doubt about. It was him. Gally. And there was no one better.

Thank you for reading!

Tags: @seldomabsent @obsessivelycapricious @ultraintrovertedgryffindor @maraudersimp @lattsgocaps @magnoliabloomfield @sherbertscarrothead-2 @the-marvel-meme-emporium @abundantxadorations @izzymultifan @willseyebrows @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny

[nothing-but-dreamy]

HAUNTED

Pairing: D:BH!CONNOR x HUMAN!READER (gender neutral)

Words: 4.058

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING! mention of suicide; odd behavior; cursing; hurt - comfort;

A/N: Another day - another request...

I really hope you like it! Thanks again for your idea.

Synopsis: You are a Detective of the DPD and had worked many cases with Hank. Until something went utterly wrong. Since then, you get haunted by your past until you see only one last way out. Luckily, Connor is there to help you.

"You know you don't have to do this.", you said serious.

Sara pulled the wire of the bug underneath her shirt before it got taped on her back, "Yes, but I want to. I have to. I owe it to my sister to do this. She shall find peace finally and like the Lieutenant said, me as her twin, I have the best chance to get this bastard. He doesn't know that she's dead. Therefore, I'm your best chance to get the information you need, Detective."

"Detective..."

"Detective."

"Detective, YLN!"

As if awakening from a deep trance like state, you focused back on reality as your name got called out. Haunted by your typical dark memories, you hadn't even noticed where you were. Slowly, you opened your eyes. The owner of the calm male voice stood on the outside of your car, next to the window of the driver seat, and looked concerned at you through the glass.

You blinked several times. The sun, which already fell through your windshield because it stood so high in the morning sky, made you blind for several moments and as you moved, you noticed your aching back and neck from sleeping in the car in an unhealthy position. Obviously, you had knocked yourself out with booze again.

"Detective YLN, my name's Connor. I'm your new partner. I'm the android sent by CyberLi- I got sent from Captain Fowler to meet you. Rather, he sent me to find you because you missed a meeting this morning. And now, he wants to see you.", Connor said and watched you. Even if he had already learned a lot about human behavior from Hank, there were still some mysteries to solve.

Like: why are you sleeping in a car in a position that harms eighty percent of your muscle tissue through soreness and lets your bones and joints burn like fire when you move?

Or: why are you drunk this early in the morning-

"Hey, tin can! Shut the fuck up!", you shouted.

Connor stared at you in shock as he realized that he had asked the questions out loud instead of just thinking about them. A habit he started with as Hank had left the DPD to retire finally, "I'm sorry, Detective. I haven't notice-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah... what do you want, Carlos?", you asked, searching for your flask you couldn't find.

"My name's Connor, Detective. And as I said, Captain Fowl-"

"Oh, yeah... the meeting... right. Get in the car.", you ordered and even if Connor was sure that it wasn't a good idea for you to drive in the state you were, he also knew that any kind of discussion would lead to nowhere. He still knew that from his time with Hank.

**

Twenty minutes later, for a way that only took ten minutes usually, you, followed by Connor, entered the DPD which was crowded with androids, policemen and people who were complaining about some uninteresting nonsense. You made your way through all these people, trying to dodge as many colleagues as you could - but of course, one of them caught you. Like always.

"Hey, YN! This is the DPD and not some bar. You won't find any kind of booze around here."

"Just shut the fuck up, Reed! Or otherwise, I will tell everyone that you own some pair of bright pink panties- oh, upsi! My bad!", you called out, gleaming at him with a smirk. Everyone started to laugh.

Gavin stared at you with a hate-filled glance, he was fuming, "Fuck you!", he muttered.

"Oh, sweet. That's all you got, Reed?", you shot back with a grin.

But before Gavin could respond to anything, Captain Fowler stepped out of his office, "Detective YLN! In my office!"

"And? Who's laughing now?", Gavin said with a smirk and winked at you before he left the DPD to do some work.

Connor closed the door of the office behind him as you were inside. You walked over to the Captain's desk to sit down in one of the chairs but even without looking up you sensed the anger radiating from your boss. It was tangible in the air. Without asking, you took one of the fresh glasses on Fowler's desk to throw an aspirin into it. Then, you pulled out the flask you had found finally to fill the glass with a transparent liquid.

Fowler watched you, half shocked and half concerned, "What are you doing?"

"Taking an aspirin, Sir. I have a murderous headache."

"And what was in the flask if I may ask?"

"Vo- uhm... water. Just water, Sir.", you answered before you gulped down the bubbling mixture.

Fowler looked from you at Connor who also seemed to be concerned about the fact that you had mixed pharmaceuticals with alcohol before the Captain looked back at you, "Where have you been this morning? We had a meeting."

You put the empty glass back on the desk, "Oh, yeah... the meeting. I'm sorry, Sir. I was on observation and obviously, I lost track of time.", you explained, leaning back in the chair, waiting for the aspirin and ‘water’ to do its magic.

"Observation, huh? For what case? What's the file number?", Fowler asked, leaning back in his own seat, folding his hands in front of him while waiting for your answer.

"Oh, yeah... the file number. One moment, Sir-"

Fowler slammed his plane hand on the desk's surface that you were jumping in your seat, "Cut this shit, god dammit! You have no file number because you have no current case, Detective! Let me guess, Connor had found you sleeping in your car, right? How many nights had it been this time?"

You kept eye contact but you gave him no answer. You just gritted your teeth and pressed your jaws together.

Fowler sighed, "Listen, YN, you're a great Detective but since the things with Sara happened-"

"No!", you called out, jumping from your chair and stopping the Captain mid-sentence with your sudden outburst, "We won't talk about this!", you said serious before you turned around to let your glance roam through the office with all the busy people, "Alright, Sir. What's the matter with the android? Monitoring what I do and what I don't do?"

"Connor is the former partner of Hank-"

"Oh and now, Hank doesn't want to play with it anymore so you give it to the next screwed up cop you can find?", you asked, turning around to look at Connor with his fancy clothes and neat hairstyle before you looked back at the Captain.

"Hank retired two weeks ago. I thought you knew that.", Fowler said and looked even more concerned at you.

"No, I'm sorry. I didn't get invited to any funny parties nor did I got a notification. But who cares. So, the android's with me then? How long?", you asked emotionlessly.

"It's your partner now. Brief it into your cases-"

You stepped forward, aiming for the door, "Cases, Sir? What cases? You already said I have none.", you pointed out while leaving the office.

Fowler watched after you, not amused about your unpredictable behavior and the fact that you were carrying a gun.

"Sir?", Connor asked and brought the Captain back from his thoughts.

"Yeah... Listen... as you can see YN has a few problems. They used to be a good cop in the past until one of the cases they and Hank had operated went wrong. The anniversary is in two days and I fear... well...", Captain Fowler stopped himself, watching you grabbing a coffee from the kitchen.

"I will keep an eye on them.", Connor said and left the office as well.

*

Connor was surprised how carelessly you were in managing your cases - even if it were just a few. There was nothing special or difficult and yet, you weren't able to file the cases properly, "Detective, this report here, I'm not sure to which case it belongs.", Connor asked as he had read an interview of a woman who had reported her dog as missing. Added to that, the interview was part of a file about an armed theft in the heart of the city. There was no connection at all to these two cases.

Without looking up, you took a folder from your desk to hand it over to Connor, "Yeah...here. That's the case you're searching for."

Connor took the case and skimmed through the pages several times before he looked at you, frowning, "Detective, this is a file about a stolen android.", he pointed out.

"Yeah, just ... put the page in this file. I'm sure it will be right.", you said, ignoring the android's expression.

"Detective, I'm not sure-"

"Excuse me, I need some more coffee.", you cut him off, standing up to aim for the kitchen with your mug in your hands.

"And I thought Hank was challenging.", Connor whispered under his breath and shook his head while he still tried to figure out which pages were parts of which cases.

"You're a murderer, Detective! That you still think yourself as worthy enough to call yourself a cop is way out of my understanding!", a jarring, female voice echoed through the office and drew the attention of everyone to her and to the person that stood in front of her - you.

Connor craned his head to watch the scene like everyone else did. But while the attention of the others was because of curiosity and spitefulness, Connor watched you and your bodily reaction to the woman's accusations. You stood there like a timid fawn. The cockiness you presented before seemed to be gone completely. Your heart rate increased, you were shaking and your eyes became big as if you were intimidated by the woman in front of you. The woman stepped even closer and Connor watched, surprised, that you stayed where you were. Easily, you could have escaped the unknown woman and yet you stayed rooted to the spot.

"Because of you I lost both of my daughters! I already have lost the one and yet, you thought it would be fair to take the other away from me as well!", the woman screamed erratic, tears were already running down her cheeks but she was still not able to stop herself and no one else was brave enough to step into the scene, "You and your partner will pay for what you have done! You will burn in hell for that!"

"Chris! Escort Mrs. Mason into my office!", Captain Fowler ordered and stopped the woman's outburst even if it was a bit too late.

Connor saw tears building in the corners of your eyes. Quickly, your glance scanned the area but the only way you could find was the way out. You aimed for the precinct's main entrance to leave the building in a hurry. Connor followed you. He ran through the office and left the building as well but as he stepped onto the pavement you were nowhere to be seen. Like a ghost, you had vanished between all the other pedestrians.

**

Hank had just taken a new beer to watch the next half of the Detroit Gears game as someone rang his doorbell. In the penetrant way how this person used his doorbell and the way how Sumo reacted, Hank knew who the visitor was, "Connor, hey. What are you doing here? It's a bit too early to go for a walk with Sumo.", the older man said but he already saw that something else was bothering the android.

"Yeah, actually, I'm not here because of Sumo.", Connor said.

Hank let him in and Connor came straight to the point that kept him busy, "One year ago, you and Detective YLN had a case together. But something went wrong. What exactly happened? I couldn't find the case file."

Hank frowned, "Why do you ask?"

"Captain Fowler teamed me up with Detective YLN because of the anniversary of this case. He's concerned about the instability of their constitution."

Hank shook his head. He missed working with the android but he didn't miss the long-winded explanations of him. Then, suddenly, he became serious again, "Instability, huh?"

"Yes. They seem to be so unpredictable in their behavior that Captain Fowler fears something worse will happen because the anniversary would be in two days. I ... I found them this morning sleeping in their car.", Connor explained with a frown.

Hank raised his brows in surprise and at the same time, he felt worried, "YN and I, we... In the past, we worked together on some cases. Well, that changed with our last case. Lynn and Sara Mason.", he said slowly, feeling the pain stinging his heart as he remembered what had happened one year ago.

"Why couldn't I find much about it in the archives of the DPD?"

Hank stood up from the couch, walking over to the book shelf to pull something out that was hidden between his several jazz vinyl. He walked back to Connor, offering the android the case file but stopped as Connor was grabbing for it, "You just can find the basics of this case because I kept it printed. Some wounds are so deep, it's better if not everyone is able to find a tool to reopen them all over again.", he said and gave Connor the file finally.

***

The next day, Connor drove again to your place and was happy to see that you weren't sleeping in your car again. As he knocked at your door, you opened him with a smile. You had taken a shower, your hair was still damp and your clothes were all fresh and clean. Connor noticed that you weren't accompanied by the scent of alcohol and he even couldn't smell anything in your breath as you talked with him.

"I... I want to apologize, Connor. Our start yesterday wasn't the best. I'm looking forward to working with you. I'm sure we will make a great team."

Connor knew you just one day, not enough to understand a person completely, and yet he had the strange feeling of something going on that occupied his mind suddenly by the way you acted.

"Oh, can you call a taxi?", you asked while sipping on your coffee.

"What happened to your car, Detective?", Connor asked surprised while ordering the vehicle.

You smiled at him, "Oh, I sold it. I will have no use of it anymore. And please, call me YN."

To Connor's surprise, your behavior stayed kinda strange even if he couldn't say what it was exactly. You and Connor went early to the DPD. On your way in, you talked with colleagues. You joked with Chris and as Gavin entered the kitchen, you pressed a cup of coffee into the Detective's hand which left him utterly confused.

Gavin stopped Connor by stepping into his way, "Hey, tin can. Is this coffee drugged or what is going on here?"

In the way Gavin looked at Connor, the android noticed real unease, "No, Detective. The coffee is not drugged or anything. I guess others would call it 'tasty'. You can drink it.", he said but looked frowning at you. As Connor left Gavin, the green-eyed man was still sniffing suspiciously on the hot liquid as if the mug might contain acid instead of his most favorite beverage.

Connor went back to the desk opposite of yours and was surprised to see how you cleared out the different pages of the case files. Several small piles were lying in front of you while you tried to bring them into the right order and to collate them.

Later that day, Connor was puzzled as you went to the Captain to apologize to him as well as you had done it with Connor in the beginning of the day. You apologized for your behavior the day before and of all the past weeks, "I know I did a few things wrong, Captain. But I promise to change that in the future. In fact, the change will happen soon and then, everyone will be pleased with me again.", you said before you took your jacket to leave the precinct.

Connor looked at the Captain and saw on the man's face what he was thinking: strange.

‘Strange’ was the only word Connor could find to describe your work day even although you were acting practically perfect. You were nice. You had sorted your cases. You had apologized for your behavior. And yet, something was odd. Something felt wrong. Connor sensed that something was ... going on. But he couldn't put his finger on it. So, out of instinct, Connor followed you and drove to your place with a taxi.

As he knocked at your door, you opened, smiling at him and dressed in a bathrobe, "Oh, Connor, hey. What is it? I just wanted to take a bath."

Surprised, Connor looked at you. He was sure you had taken a shower this morning so there was no need to take a bath and then, he reminded himself that he still had not much knowledge about humans and their several oddities, "Yeah, I ... I just wanted to ask if everything is alright, Detective.", he said honestly.

You smiled at him, "Of course, Connor. Everything is more than alright. I just need some time to relax and tomorrow, everything will make sense to you and the others. Thanks for checking on me, that means a lot to me. Goodnight.", you said and closed the door.

Connor stared at your closed door for several moments before he stepped slowly back to walk down the hallway. Since he turned deviant, Connor's systems needed a bit longer to process information - not much, it were just seconds, but sometimes that could be more than enough.

As Connor was still connecting the different dots and hints you had spread the whole day, Hank called him, "Connor! Where are you?"

"I'm leaving YN's place. They want to take a bath. Why? What's the matter?", Connor asked as he sensed the slightly concerned undertone in Hank's voice.

"You have to go back, Connor! Go back to them! YN hates to bath!", Hank demanded worried.

Even if Connor was confused, he turned around, walking back the way to your apartment, "Hank?"

"I just got a letter from YN. It got brought by a delivery man. It's a handwritten suicide letter. Hurry and stop them!", Hank ordered.

Connor ended the call, hurried down the corridor and without knocking, he broke down the door of your apartment. Quickly, Connor ran through your small apartment, already seeing the door of your bathroom ajar. He stormed into the room and the second his eyes landed on you lying in the bathtub with the razor blade between your fingers, he was by your side, taking the blade away to throw it into a far corner before you could even cut. Slowly but demanding, Connor dragged you out of the water, took a towel and laid it around your shaking frame because you already were ice cold. Obviously, you had filled the bathtub with cold water to support a fast sleep while your blood would have drained from your body after the cut.

You were screaming and yelling for Connor to let go of you. You demanded the razor back and that he should leave your apartment but Connor ignored everything. You punched against his chest with your fists but Connor stayed unimpressed, determined to save your life. With a strong grip, he wrapped you into the towel and also laid the bathrobe around your shoulders before he guided you out of the bathroom. You were still struggling in Connor's arms to get free. All you wanted was to end what you had started. Desperate, hot tears were running down your cheeks as you were crying violently about the fact that you were still alive. Alive and alone with the memories which were still haunting you like mean demons.

Connor placed you on the couch, sitting next to you and wrapping his arms around your frame to give you even more support and comfort while you cried against his chest, "Please, just let me die...", you cried out between two heavy sobs.

"No, Detective. I have to refuse your request."

"Cut this 'Detective' shit. Just call me YN, god damnit.", you whimpered helplessly because now, everything was just worse than you had expected. You had planned everything and yet, the android was there to destroy your neatly made plans, "What are you even doing here, Connor?"

"Hank received your letter and called me right on time."

You leant closer against Connor's chest with closed eyes, seeking the android’s presence while cursing about yourself, "Hell, the letter. I should have changed the delivery time to a later one. Then, everything would be over. All the pain. All the guilt. All the haunting.", you breathed with a sad voice.

Connor tightened the embrace around you even more, "It's about Sara Mason and her sister, isn't it?", he whispered softly, placing his chin on top of your head to enclose you even more.

You nodded, not surprised that Connor already knew it, "Yeah... it's my fault that Sara died. It's my fault that her mother lost both daughters.", you cried out, clawing into Connor's white shirt with your fingers.

"Well, I read the file. Sara came up with the idea to get bugged and to infiltrate the drug dealer who had killed her sister Lynn. I mean, the idea was good. It was just bad luck that the dealer already knew about Lynn's death and looked right through the façade you and Hank had planned.", Connor said softly. To calm you even more, he stroked soothingly over your back with his hands.

You leant back to look into the android's face and for the first time, you noticed the incredibly intense, brown color of his soft eyes, "Y-you don't understand. Not even Hank knew that but Sara didn't come up with the idea to get bugged on her own. I dropped this idea as I was alone with her and manipulated her to think it was her own idea. I mean, how evil can someone be to do this, huh?", you asked, closing your eyes about this painful memory.

Connor cupped your face, knowing that humans needed physical contact to feel secure and safe and he wanted to provide you both as well as he could. He was glad to see that you opened your eyes again and that you stayed where you were, "Listen, neither you nor Hank nor someone else could have known every single possibility in this case. The idea was good. The Captain said the same in his official statement. But ... Look, kid, sometimes bad things happen, and you can't do anything about it.", he said softly.

Through a sob of new tears because Connor was the first for a very long time that was caring about you this much, you chuckled low, "Have you... did you just quote the Lion King to cheer me up?"

Connor looked slightly caught with a sheepishly smile playing around his lips, "Yeah... Hank said I should improve my knowledge about pop culture. I binge watched all the Disney movies I could find last week. I thought this quote was suitable... Or did I have done it wrong?"

You chuckled a bit more about his innocence and strong will to help you, "No, it was pretty good. Thanks for... you know... thanks for being here with me.", you whispered low, feeling your cheeks reddening.

Connor leant back on your couch, bringing you close to his chest so you could snuggle against him, "I'm your partner now, YN. And partners are looking out for each other. You can count on me no matter what it is.", he said softly and after five minutes where he just stroked comforting over your back, he noticed your even breathing that told him that you had fallen asleep. Hank called and without making too much noise, Connor briefed his former partner that you were alright.

You were still alive. You still had a long way to go to leave your haunting ghosts behind but Connor was sure you would make it. You were strong enough to do it - and he would be by your side to support you as promised.

[allandoflimbo]

Ashens (Part 23)

Summary: She falls in love with Bucky Barnes from the moment she sees him. Bucky, still in love with a woman from his past, hates Y/N and plans to make her life miserable. To both their dismay, they are assigned together to go undercover into The Capitol for six months. There, they develop a heartbreaking friend with benefits agreement. Dystopian.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 6,000

Rating: M for Mature, E for explicit. Enemies to lovers trope, sharing a bed trope, friends with benefits trope, temporarily unrequited love, heavy and angry sex, heavy on the angst, and very strong language.

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The world was on fire and no one could save me but you

It's strange what desire will make foolish people do

I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you

+ + +

“Don’t question acts of the daring and misinterpret it for insanity. 

Simply thank the courages ones for their heart and strong character, 

for not all are willing to do the good and get destroyed in the worst way, 

not for their own benefit, but for others.”

+ + +

It starts in his fingers, a feeling of hot tingles and sporadic static. He plays with the condensation of the glass, gathering the wetness on the tips of his digits until they are completely numb from the cold. The hot tingles and static dissipate momentarily until they move up his arms and into the cavity where his heart beats.

It beats for the way you waltzed into the room, smelling like sweet strawberries and your shampoo. 

It beats for the way it continues to ache and hope to feel your touch again.

If he’s quiet enough, he could hear it, too. It thumps away in his head, making his temples pulse and his palms sweat. He rubs the palm of his hand against the glass, too.

He looks up, dark eyes meeting your figure in your shared bedroom. Memories of the last few months fill his brain with a strong ripple of serotonin, gaze drifting towards the messy, fresh out the dryer, white sheets. 

He’s feeling too much. It must be why he feels like he’s having a heart attack and why his mouth is insanely dry.

His eyes flicker back up to you again, and for a fraction of a second, he considers saying something.

Bucky doesn’t talk about his feelings much. 

He always held it down. 

He didn’t talk about how he felt when he watched his sister being taken from him, or when either of his parents died and he in result became an orphan. 

Not much has changed since then, he thinks as he keeps looking at you.

You were moving around, unaware of his inner turmoil.

Bucky is fully convinced that no one on this earth detests him more than he detests himself. Not only does he hate himself for the things he’s done, but he can’t stand how he’s unable to talk about his feelings when he knows he needs to. 

He can’t stand how weak he is and how he doesn’t have the guts to face it. 

He’s watching you and he wants to speak up, but he can’t.

He detests himself for always running away from facing his demons. 

This had a lot more to do than you going on a date. This was about everything. He knows there’s so much he needs to tell you.

He just wishes it were a lot simpler. 

He doesn’t dare compare his issues to yours. 

He knows each person has their own demons and their own complications to conquer, so he doesn’t dare compare. But, sometimes, he can’t help but think he is the world’s most horrible person, through no fault of his own.

Why couldn’t he have been stronger? Why couldn’t he have stopped himself from getting brainwashed? Why couldn’t he stop himself from doing all the things that he did?

Nobody knows what it’s like to live with the memories of being forced to train young girls who were taken from their families to fight for the KGB, one of them who later turns out being your friend. Not to mention then also shooting the same girl through the stomach on a bridge in Odessa. Nobody knows what it’s like to be forced to put a bullet between countless of innocent people’s eyes, some being young kids, cutting their innocent lives short. 

Nobody understood what it was like to then be forced to kill someone’s parents, the same person who’s teams then welcomes you decades later into their home as family. 

He experienced all of it without one goodbye to his blood family. 

It doesn’t make sense to him how no one else could see what was going through his mind. Maybe he was messed up to the point where he could no longer be okay ever again. 

Maybe.

But you, you had woken something inside of him that he thought had been long gone. You gave him a longing for communication, to talk about how he was feeling. For the first time in over half a century, because of you, he sees a potential light at the end of the tunnel.

You didn’t treat him like an ex assassin, a veteran, an avenger, or just a friend. You treated him like an imperfect man, taking him into your arms in spite of that.

Unbeknownst to you, you had taken his broken heart in your hands and held it tenderly, like a mother holding a newborn child. You taught it how to be happier, you taught it self forgiveness and preservation. You showed him how to be human, how to feel human desires that for so long he had held down. 

He continues to watch you, swelling hard.

You showed me that it was okay. He thinks to himself.

You were his friend for much longer than you ever knew, and you had no idea.

He needed you more than you realized. 

But you were right. It was time to let you be truly happy. After all, how could someone like him make you happy? You made it clear to him, time after time, that you’re both toxic together. He knows most of it was his fault, but he had changed. Unfortunately so had you and your feelings were just platonic now. It was a mess. Both of you, together, was a mess.

The amount of orgasms you shared don’t even make up for the hurt you’ve put each other through.

That’s what he needs to tell himself as he watches you from the living room, pulling the wool scarf tight around your neck to hide your tattoo, and tightening the lightweight white coat over your shoulders. 

You were wearing a mid length dark red dress and short black heels. You looked great. The small smile your wore complemented you well, too. You looked happy.

Bucky knows he has no right to feel what he does as he watches you go back into the bathroom to touch up your hair.

It was a quarter past seven and the sun was setting. If this was two weeks ago, you two would probably be having sex right about now. 

It had become routine after a certain point. He would probably have you bent over the sink, leaving finger indents on your hips. 

Not anymore. That was over.

Ironically, it wasn’t even want he wanted to do with you as he watched you walk back in. He just wanted to grab you, run his hand through your hair and kiss your forehead. 

The thought of wanting to do such a pure act catches him off guard and he feels a tightness in his chest grow hot. There was the static again in his fingers. 

“I’ll be back in a few hours. We’re just going to have dinner at his place.” You say, slowly stepping into the lit living room.

Bucky’s on the sofa and you watch as his eyes leave yours to obviously linger down your body. 

He clears his throat, reaching for the glass of water on the coffee table.

“Be safe.” He says softly. 

You watch as he takes a sip of the water, his eyes meeting yours again over the glass. There’s a pull inside of you that wants you to ask him if he was okay.

“You’ll be okay here?” 

He gives a curt nod, avoiding your eyes.

“I’ll be fine.” His tone is hard and straight to the point, but something was still clearly off with his behavior. 

He’s been acting weird since a few days ago when you told him about Pietro.

You start playing with the sleeve of your coat, clearly stalling. 

He had to open up to you.

“You have food?” You ask. The edge of Bucky’s lip perks up. You’re thankful for the almost smile.

“Yes.”

You watch him for a few more seconds. The mundane exchange is almost comical.

“I gave you his address, right? Just in case?”

Pretty blue eyes narrow at you curiously. 

“Yes, I have it right there.” Bucky says, pointing over to the dining table below the blue A.I glow.

“Okay.” you say, nodding slowly, “Okay, I’ll see you later then.” 

Bucky doesn’t say anything as you leave. He leans his elbows on each of his knees, bringing both his clasped hands together up to his chin. 

He wants the static to go away. He wants to tell you everything.

He takes in a deep breath and runs a metal hand through his hair.

No, I wasn’t going to be okay without you here. 

He picks up the control off the table and starts season nine of Friends. 

It was going to be a long night.

+ + +

You were nervous. This was your first date. 

Ever.

You also didn’t know what to expect from tonight. Sure, you liked Pietro. He was sweet, a good guy, and he was attractive. You wanted to give it a try. You were done being dragged down by one man that didn’t even love you the way you did. 

It was time to move on.

Three soft knocks is how long it takes for the dark blue door of apartment 8C to swing open.

You’re immediately welcomed by the scent of something delicious and Pietro’s warm and bright smile.

“Hey, you.” He says with a delighted perk in his voice. He swings the door open wider for you to walk through, “Come in.”

Timidly, you walk into his inviting home. 

The walls were beige and he had dark brown wooden floors. They were glossy instead of matte. To the left was a small kitchen with black cabinetry, and in front of you a small living room with a television and a black cotton couch.

You didn’t miss the hallway towards the far left the most likely led to a bedroom and bathroom.

Bedroom.

You feel your throat close up.

You were nervous.

“May I take your coat?” He asks sweetly, stretching out a hand to you. Your eyes go from his hand to his own eyes and his smile is contagious, “I’m just going to hang it in the closet. I won’t let it run away. Promise.”

You chuckle.

You give him a short nod, shrugging off your coat and handing it to him. 

“Thank you.” You say.

There’s a small pause of silence.

“Wow, you look amazing.” He says quietly, taking in your dress. His eyes sparkled as he looked at you and you knew he was being sincere. You smile. “Do you want me to take your scarf, too?”

You instinctually reach for your scarf before pausing, your hands lingering on the fabric a bit longer than casual, “I’ll keep it,” your eyes meet and he squints at you, “It’s supposed to go with the dress.” You say quickly on your feet.

He tilts his head at you and chuckles.

“Okay. Well,” he looks down at his hand still holding your coat, “I’m just going to go hang this up. Feel free to to look around for a few seconds.” 

You nod again, watching as he walks to a small closet towards the right, passed the tv.

You look over into the kitchen, and you see a neatly set table with two glass of wine. 

There’s a pot on the stove with the lid on it, but the stove isn’t on.

You feel a warm and inviting hand on your upper back.

“I made, or should I say, I attempted,” he adds a chuckle that makes you smile, “to make some chicken parm.”

You giggle.

“I’m sure it’s delicious.”

You both walk over to the table which isn’t that far to the side and he pulls out one of the chairs for you. You thank him politely, taking a seat.

There’s the sharing of shy glances and awkward feet hitting each other under the table. You mutter out sorry’s.

Pietro clears his throat when he remembers he forgot the plates. You smile again as he apologizes and gets up.

“I’m the worst.” He says quickly.

“You’re not, relax. I forgot, too.” You play with the glass on the table, vividly remembering Bucky doing the same not too long ago.

You were picking up each others habits, hard.

“So, how’s it going with the whole situation at home? With your friend?”

You’re caught off guard by the indirect mention of Bucky and you try to casually grab the white napkin off the table, laying it over your lap.

“It’s going better.” You say, hoping it’ll make Pietro cut the topic short.You smooth the fabric over your legs, picking at it.

He looks over his shoulder to you and you can feel his eyes on you.

“Really? That’s good. I’m happy to hear that. I know it was rough for you. I hated seeing you like that.” That makes two of us, you want to say. There’s another pause. “You’re quiet today.” He notes, placing your plate in front of you. You’re hit with an intense wave of nausea as the delicious smell peaks up into your nose. You look away from the plate swallowing hard, “You okay?”

You clear your throat and swallow and swallow.

“Yeah I’m fine,” the bile lays in your belly as the smell continues to drive into your head, making you dizzy and sweat, “Do you have some water?” You croak out, trying to push your chair a little away from the table. It scrapes angrily against the floor, and if it wasn’t for how sick you were feeling, you would be apologizing.

“Yeah, yeah of course.” He says quickly, moving around the kitchen and fixing you a glass.

He hands it to you and you take some heavy gulps. It’s cold and slices through your throat. It lays into your stomach uncomfortably but you prefer it over a dry and heavy tongue. 

You place it back down on the table, taking a deep breath. You feel the sweating start to dissipate and your stomach slowly settles.

You bring your palm to your head and quickly blink away. 

You hated throwing up.

“Sorry, about that.”

He chuckles and gives you a smile as he takes his own seat across from you, “That’s okay. Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

You weren’t too sure, but you don’t say that. “Yeah, I don’t know what that was,” you look back down at the plate that begins to look somewhat appetizing again, “Believe me, it wasn’t the food. This smells delicious and looks delicious.” He opens the glass the red wine and offers some to you. You quickly shake your head, giving him a wave of rejection with your hand. Just the thought of wine made your stomach turn again, “I’ll stick to the water for now.” He nods and pours himself a glass, “Sorry if I’m quiet. I’m a bit nervous.”

“Nervous why?”

You shrug, digging a fork into your chicken and swirling it around.

“I don’t know. I’m just like that.”

He says your name and you stop poking your fork to look up at him, “It’s me. We’ve been friends for a few months now. I’m not some stranger.”

You smile. He was right.

“I know, trust me. It’s just…” you think for a moment and then start laughing, “God, we’re literally on a date, during the apocalypse, like this is just weird, ya know?”

Pietro frowns.

“Apocalypse? We’re safe in here, in these walls. Everyone is safe in here.”

Your smile drops.

You stare at him and begin to wonder if he’s actually being serious. Was the majority of the people in here really convinced that this was it? That everything was perfect? Was Hydra really that capable? Part of you is proud of your parent’s work because you truly were safe because of what they built, but the world was still out there, living. There was still more. This wasn’t supposed to be a permanent solution. 

There were people out there still dying, trying to survive. And these people had no idea, including Pietro.

You realize you’re quickly going into dark territory and you don’t want Pietro digging into what you were trying to say, accidentally blowing your cover.

“You’re right. I don’t know why I said that.” You say quickly. You bring the chicken to your mouth, taking a small and careful bite, “This is so good.” You say after chewing and swallowing.

“I’m glad you liked it. I made some lava cakes for desert, too.”

You laugh.

“Are you a cook?”

“Nah. Just watch a lot of Tiny Kitchen.”

You perk a brow.

“Tiny Kitchen?”

“You’ve never heard of Tiny Kitchen?”

You laugh, placing your fork down on the plate. 

“No, what the hell is it? A small kitchen?”

“Literally what it is. I’ll show it to you afterwards.” 

“Okay.” You grin.

You look down at your plate again, wanting to go in for another bite, but for some reason you just can’t.

+ + +

He doesn’t get past episode three. He can’t. 

Not when all thoughts of you clouded his mind. He knows Pietro is good people, so he’s entirely not concerned about that. 

He knows he’s jealous. He knows that. 

The jealousy mixed in with the anticipation of how the rest of the mission will play out worries him. 

He wanted you home and near him, but since that wasn’t going to happen, he was home by himself, glooming.

He knows he needed a distraction right away so he picks up some of his things from the dining table, slides on a light jacket, and makes his way towards the tower.

He knows the blueprint of the tower already and he’s able to navigate himself into stairwell of the apartment on the top floor. 

After weeks of dissecting, you both found out that Ashens’ father, Ashen, and his mother don’t live here with the boy. For safety precautions, which are obvious why, he’s being housed in under high security and under the supervision of some au pair who is as clueless of his importance as the day is young.

Bucky knows that what he’s about to do borders on breaking boundaries, and downright creepy. 

But this was a situation he would qualify as desperate times comes to desperate measures.

Bucky’s able to bypass security, taking a security outfit off a ��poor’ victim (he scoffs) as he does soon. 

He’s just outside the boy’s bedroom when he hears the nanny tell Ashens goodnight.

When she’s leaving she tells Bucky in a heavy Bulgarian accent, clearly thinking he’s just a regular guard, that Ashens is about to go to sleep. Bucky keeps his head down and nods.

The clueless ar pair goes the opposite way, presumably to her own bedroom.

Bucky waits a few moments before knocking on the boy’s door.

He hears the little boy give out permission to come in. Bucky opens the door.

The bedroom is plain and depressing. There’s a bed with plain white sheets, a small nightstand, and a large window. There are no toys and nothing that would show any proof that a child resided here. 

The room is not one he would expect for a boy Ashens’ age.

The little boy sits up in bed, his eyes squinting at the figure in his doorway.

“Hello.” The boy squeaks out.

Bucky practically laughs at how easy it was to get here. For a boy they are trying so hard to keep protected from just anyone, it was quite easy ending up just a few feet away from him.

Bucky’s had his fair share of experiences with kids, having a little sister himself. He knows he has to do this differently.

“Hi.” Bucky says lightly, almost too cheerfully.

The boy continues to stare at him as Bucky closes the door behind him, but not letting it close shut just yet.

“Who are you?”

Bucky slowly takes off his halo looking helmet and the boy squints at Bucky’s revealed face.

Bucky tucks the helmet under his arm and smiles.

“Can you keep a secret?”

The boy looks at him for a few more seconds before nodding slowly.

It’s not until Bucky is closer to the boy that his eyebrows shoot up,

“Wait. I know who you are.” Bucky can’t tell if the boy is excited or surprised, but the reaction makes Bucky’s chest swell.

This might go down easier than he expected.

“I -I  was so little when I had the toy but,” the boy starts to talk excitedly and Bucky has to hide a growing smile, “Because I can’t have toys anymore. Not since we moved here. I was little but I remember,” the boy and Bucky both narrow their eyes at each other as if it’s a game to who would say it first, “it’s captain America. You ever heard of captain America?”

Bucky bites his lip. 

“No, never.” He says sarcastically. “Oh, he’s the best. You look like his friend, but I don’t remember his name. He used to be the winter soldier and then he became good.”

Bucky’s heart swells again. The boy’s joy was so pure.

“Oh, yea?”

“Yeah. Dad didn’t like them vey much, though,” his face drops as he looks away from Bucky, “I didn’t like how happy he was when they all died. But no one knows that just us I think,” when Ashens looks up again, Bucky’s face is more solemn this time, “Are you sure you’re not the winter soldier?” The boy whispers the question.

Bucky considers his next words carefully. He places the helmet at the feet of the boy’s bed.

“If I told you I was?”

“I would be surprised because I though you were dead, and also I would be confused. Because why you here?”

Bucky nods. He looks away and then back at Ashens.

“Would you tell your dad?” He asks quietly. This was important.

The boy looks at him for a bit before answering.

“No. He would kill you. Daddy’s not on the good side.”

“And you believe I’m on the good side, right?”

“Yes. You’re an Avenger.”

Bucky bites his lip and looks around the room. This boy was good. It angered him that his own father wanted him killed. Now, more than ever, he wanted to rescue this boy. 

“Can you trust me?” Bucky asks, suddenly serious. 

The boy nods.

“Am I in trouble?” He asks timidly. “What do you mean?” “Ae you here to save me, sir?”

The question broke Bucky’s heart, but he nods.

“I trust you.” The boy’s eyes dart down Bucky’s left side, “Can I feel you arm?” The edge of Bucky’s lips perk up as he takes a seat, “and what does it feel like to hold the shield? Did you really know Iron Man? Black Panther always said —”

+  +  +

By the time Bucky is back you’re already home in your pajamas tucked into bed.

“Hey. Where’d you go?” You ask him as he takes off his coat, draping it over one of the chairs in the dining area.

He kicks off his shoes and reaches back, pulling off his shirt. He walks over to the closet for a new one.

“I met Ashens.”

You raise your brows at this. You knew it was part of the plan to happen, but you didn’t expect it to be today.

“What?”

Bucky also pulls out a new and clean pair of boxers, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah. We spoke for a bit.” “And he didn’t recognize you?” “No, he did,” Bucky says simply, eyes going over to you. You looked so pretty, comforter pulled up under your clothed breasts, a book in your hands, and a messy bun in your hair. He wanted you. He looks away, remembering where you had just been, “He knows I’m here. He won’t tell his dad." “How can you be so sure?” “I’m an Avenger, aren’t I? That’s what everyone tells me, has been telling me.” He says it bitterly. Bucky sighs, closing the closet door and then walking over to the bed near you, “Because I made him a promise that I was here to save him. I think he knows his dad is bad news. He’s a smart kid. He knows his dad hits his mom, too.” Bucky’s voice is soft.

“So you trust he’ll keep this between us?”

“I do.”

You nod. You watch Bucky’s eyes as his stare stays on you, unnerving.

“And you?” You voice shakes as you ask, “How are you? Ya know, after?”

Bucky nods his head.

“I’m alright, ya know? I — ,” something happens to him that you had never seen before. A wave of happiness washes over Bucky’s face like a fresh cup of lemonade. His eyes shine and a bright smile fills his face. Even his voice sounds perkier, “It was just so nice talking to him. He’s such a sweet kid. I know we’re doing the right thing,” his eyes meet yours again and his voice lowers to a deep tone, “We’re both going to walk away from this mission with more than we thought.” It’s the first time he’s said that you are both going to walk away from the mission together, and not just you. He knows that. Bucky clears his throat, “You definitely won’t run into his father. He’s not living with him to avoid attention and possible abductions. Ashens is a literal rapunzel right now.”

“Good. That’s good.” Obviously it wasn’t. But it was good for the both of you. You had less chances of running into Ashen.

Bucky takes in a deep breath when he realizes his eyes are lingering on your collarbones for far too long.

“How was your date?” He actually doesn’t want to even know, the thought of you and Pietro makes him sick, but he knows he needs to show courtesy. They can’t ignore it forever. “It was fine. I wasn’t feeling too well, though—“

Bucky’s eyes narrow.

“—Oh no, I’m sorry.”

 “Couldn’t eat. But,” you took a deep breath and eyed the hallway, "Brought some in a small Tupperware if you want it. It’s in the kitchen.”

Bucky ignores the flutter in his heat at the mention that you thought of him. Thought of him enough to bring the leftovers for him.

He smiles.

“What is it?” “Chicken Parm.” You watch as Bucky continues to watch you, eyes still sparkling. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. You’re happy, right?” Your eyes flicker away for a moment.

“Y-yeah.”

He knows he’s not fine so he lies. 

“Then I’m fine. You looked great by the way.” He adds quickly.

You tilt your head at him and he tilts his back.

Damnit, he needed you.

“Yeah?” You ask hoarsely. 

He wanted you.

“You’re glowing.” He says.

 +  + +

Jazz and burlesque shows were the epitome of everything she had lived for up until she was sixteen years old. The smell of handmade lace garters and expensive perfume still lingered in the back of her mind, bringing her a feeling of contentment and a strange longing for the past. 

Nostalgia would overwhelm her as she looked on at what was the exact contrast to her innocence – her mother’s hugs. She missed those nights where she’d play some 12’s of her beat up vinyl on her record, the scratches adding to Peggy Lee’s voice a twinge of imperfection that made it the perfect tone. 

With nothing on but her undergarments, and a pair of leg garters accompanied with knee high black stockings, she’d open her closet to a huge collection of gorgeous cocktail dresses. A couple handful landed just above her knees, not many past her mid shin - Scandalous and mildly scandalous. Her parents would kill her if they ever found out she even owned them (let alone have them in their home) so she kept those hidden in a little pile in the back corner of the wardrobe. 

She had every right to be terrified for many reasons. It’s not that she was not loyal or a rebel, per say. She was born and raised into a Christian family, all strict rules of modesty and heavy morals applied to her daily life. She was always daddy’s little girl in the simplest sense possible. 

She wouldn’t ever dare roll her eyes at him or purposefully make him disapprove of her, ever. Sure, she was raised in a rich family, so she was used to getting everything she always wanted. Material things being at the top of the list. Even then she remained as humble as possible. 

Especially when she thought her strong faith was behind it all. 

Do well for God, he gives back in return, right?  At least that’s what her naïve self believed at the time. But she’d never admit it to her family that she now thought otherwise, especially to her mom. 

If anything, God was now banning them all to Hell anyway.

Her vanity was those of every girl’s dreams. Drawers filled with everything you could only wish of having. Inside were lingerie of every shade (from fiery red to pure jet black, like the night sky in the city), style, and earrings of every pearl and diamond crystal variety you could think. Her favorite would always be the garters. 

She’d clip each of the four clasps into place just above her knees with her nimble fingers and then she’d sit opened legged in front of the mirror. 

Diligently, and with prestige dexterity, she’d apply her blood red lipstick and her four inch black heels. 

After an o shape with her lips around her fingers and a loud pop, she’d walk around her room and close her eyes, envisioning herself as a burlesque girl and a sensual song playing in the background. After all, she had all the right in the world to be the exact opposite at night than what she was during the day. Morally, at least.

 She still remained as the same sweet, innocent, and faithful young girl she always was. But she had big hopes and dreams, especially in film and dance. God should be okay with dreams, she thought.

When she had learned the truth it was just short of her 20th birthday. She unwontedly found out that her father and brother were different souls at night, too. She wished she never found out that everything that had been lying in front of her had been a lie, and instead of life being a gifted blessing it was instead a bloody carcass hades. 

Their life wasn’t one she liked to admit to partaking in. There were times where she would trick into telling herself that they weren’t doing it. She’d trick herself into thinking that way so that when she saw her dad that night, she’d be able to surpass the strong smell of whiskey and gun powder and kiss him goodnight. 

Jimmy would roll his eyes with a shove past her shoulder.  

As much as she detested it, she knew that without them, they wouldn’t be living in one of the most beautiful homes in all of Manhattan in complete safety. It was because of them that she wasn’t living out in the slums. She tried to divide that part of harsh reality from her brain as much as she could. Eventually, the pros outweighed the cons.

Maybe it was the fact that her body had finally developed into a women’s body. Her breasts were now fully perked and her legs were long and porcelain gorgeous; all she knew was they figured she could be put to good use. 

At first she was repulsed by her own father’s comment, but if it meant having dinner that night and not getting killed, she would swallow those nagging feelings and take it head on. It never lasted too long anyway, and all she had to do was stand there and be her brother’s accessory.

When her father brought her into the business, he told her she would thank him one day when she had children of her own- she’d have all the men of the lower east side wrapped around her pretty little finger.

 She was alright with it, until something happened that she would never forget. She had to swallow the repulsive bile and control herself not to run away then and there. She was too far in and knew way too much.

It was just another Tuesday night and she had been sitting at the dinner table, when both her mom and dad had stepped out of the dining room and into the kitchen. She ate her soup quietly, not being able to stop thinking about going back to her room to play burlesque, when Jimmy had turned to her.

 At first it was the sudden motion that caught her attention, it had made a strand of blonde hair fly off her arm. Then it was the feral look in his eyes. 

“Daisy,” his voice was low and dangerous. Daisy knew that tone very well because it was the tone all the other men used on their nights of missions. She was terrified and disgusted.  Wide eyes trailed from her eyes to her full red lips and she felt a cold rigid finger against the heat of her skin on her upper thigh, pushing the fabric slightly up. She gulped.  

Jimmy smiled, “You gorgeous thing.”

She thought about telling her father but she knew that if he found out, the one partnership that was bringing them the most cash would be jeopardized and it would have to be terminated and he’d be more than upset. She knew when her dad got angry, it was not good. It’s was messy and bad. 

Back at dinner, her father would say grace before they ate, all of them hand in hand, and her mom would sit there quietly, a terrified and exhausted look in her smiles. She had heavy bags that weren’t there years ago, and her hair that used to always be done was now up in a messy clip, the baby hairs hanging against her wrinkled forehead, messy and unruly. But still she managed to smile, even if it wasn’t a real smile. It was all a stupid act. 

 It reminded Daisy of how she herself was when she was 16 - pretending to be oblivious to what her family were doing to the innocent. And so she hated her mom for that, for being just like her. 

She felt disgusted in herself, she felt disgust for her family. Oh how she missed those days of when she was a child, before she even knew the truth. It was all so much simpler back then and she was so much happier.  The worst it used to get was when her mother would tell her stories about when she was a nurse back in WWI. 

She had wanted to be like her mom at first. Her mom was quiet, humble, caring, and extremely gracious. It’s what made her such a good person to have back in the war to help the soldiers- she was strong willed and knew she could help and would in her best ability do so. But those stories made Daisy question why any man in his right mind would want to do such a thing to their own body- putting themselves at such a risk. 

Sure, she was privileged by riches, but problems didn’t have to be solved by violence. There must be other ways, like prayer or simply believing. 

Her mother would tell her the graphic stories of the injuries that made Daisy queasy and fidget in her seat. She loved her mom’s qualities and how willing she was to help others who were injured and almost dying, but it still made no sense to her.

 When daisy questioned her concerned to her mother she had simply said:

“Don’t question acts of the daring and misinterpret it for insanity. Simply thank the courages ones for their heart and strong character, for not all are willing to do the good and get destroyed in the worst way, not for their own benefit, but for others.”

To this day, Daisy wondered if her mom was indirectly referencing her own father- him lacking thereof. 

Next, she wondered about when her mom stopped believing her own words.  

Daisy wondered if she’d ever meet one one day - a soldier. Someone willing to get destroyed. Or if her mom had been lying and all men are the same, evil like her father and brother.

But she was evil, too.

No, I don't wanna fall in love.

A/N: yes. she’s pregnant.

@snakeeatery17 @utterlyhopeful-fics , @marvelfan1017, @iheartsebastianstan , @annathesillyfriend , @redhairedfeistynerd, @perksofbeingabookworm, @amyrose051, @meegggoooo, @morganclaire4 , @captainchrisstan, @bxndys , @shoesonpointe ,  @writerwrites, @rainbowkisses31, @lindatreb , @littlemissner98 , @dezzylou24, @ayeitslelee , @hardygal69 ,  @emmabarnes , @redbarn1995@thequeenreaders@ilovemysupersoldiers@maximumplaidzonknerd@ceapa-mica @s-trawberryv-eins@buckysknifecollections@sobangie@lindatreb@theseuscmander@nervous-plant @wildmoonflower @aya-fay@appreciating-fanfics@kaitlynisinfinite@justreadingfics@kaitieskidmore1 @mrsdancing​ @everythingiloveandcherish @shinykoalacat​ @dragongirl31 @kaitlynisinfinite​ @alwaysclassyeagle

[silkenstarlight]

wild cherry sweet (part two)

Summary: Reader is distracted as she and Bucky prepare to embark on their mission at the GRC’s private gala. Bucky decides to help ease her tension.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warning/s: smut (18+ only, minors dni!); public sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, kissing, brief mention of sugar daddy

Word count: 3.9k

Find part one here

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Author’s note: i didn’t plan a part two for this, but tbh bucky is not the type to let a woman pleasure him without even trying to reciprocate on her

Do not repost! Likes and reblogs are welcome and encouraged :))

“Glasses? Really?”

You pressed your lips together tightly, scrutinizing Bucky’s lackadaisical efforts at putting together a disguise: wayfarer eyeglasses with a thick tortoiseshell frame that pressed awkwardly against his brow bone. You leaned across the center console of the car, and when you reached up to his face, he smiled dopily at you, expecting some loving, gentle caress. But, when you ripped the tag off of the glasses he had just bought at the pharmacy, his jaw clenched, lips turning downward into a chagrined frown. You settled behind the wheel again. 

He seemed strangely excited about the prospect of donning a costume for the mission, so unlike his usual disgruntled self. Even so, his efforts at disguise were last-minute and low-effort. Earlier, before you had left the apartment to drive to the gala’s discreet venue, he had flattened his hair onto his forehead in an uncharacteristic style, reminiscent of the neatly-combed 60’s mop-tops donned by the likes of Ringo Starr. And, when you were slinging on your heels, ready to walk out of the door, he had asked you to dust some eyeshadow below his eyes. He explained that exaggerated dark circles would help to draw his face down and make him appear slightly older. 

You obliged, trying not to let the breath stall in your throat as you traced a cool taupe shade below his eyes in faint crescents. You couldn’t ignore the fact that his eyes were trained on you the whole time.

The way his eyes followed your every move had made you suddenly shy and docile, even though just minutes before, you had been on your knees in front of him, his cock shoved down your throat. After he came, he had brought you up from your knees to a standing position, and had kissed you with the fervor of a man who was just getting started. 

But, you had a mission. Which you were already late for.

You had fixed your hair and lipstick quickly after he had tucked himself back into his pants, a brush and a damp tissue working wonders to conceal your tryst. And then, you were both out of the door, climbing into your car and plugging the gala’s location into Google maps.

But, first, he had insisted on making a stop. You groaned, clutching the wheel tightly as he directed you through traffic towards a pharmacy a few blocks away from the venue. You parallel parked and he jumped out of the car, jaunting into the store with bouncing, confident steps. You left the engine running, eager to get to the gala. The sooner your mission was over, after all, the sooner you could both return to the apartment and resume where you left off.

The thought made you ache, the wetness pooling in your underwear momentarily making you forget the jittery tapping of your foot and the sweat that slicked the creases of your palms. Your stomach flipped when you remembered the blissed-out expression on Bucky’s face as your mouth had bobbed up and down his length, lips popping with a lewd smack as you pulled back--

The passenger door opened and Bucky climbed in with a plastic bag in hand, interrupting your daydreaming and making you jump.

He noticed, settling in his seat and shutting the car door behind him.“Pre-mission jitters?” He asked knowingly.

“Uh-- yeah.” You blushed, choosing not to elaborate.

He simply gave you a smirk, as if he could read your every thought, and pulled his purchase from the plastic bag. A pair of reading glasses. He slid them on, and you scoffed.

“Glasses? Really?” You lightly whacked his arm, laughing. “Who are you, Clark Kent?”

He shrugged. “Well, it seemed to work for him just fine.”

“Alright, just don’t come complaining to me when the magnification in the lenses starts giving you a headache.”

“Noted.”

You pulled out from your parking spot and rejoined traffic, hoping to find a parking space closer to the venue. You didn’t want to use the valet, just in case things went south and you needed a convenient means of escape. So, when you were two blocks away, you parked.

You both climbed out, stepping up to the sidewalk and locking the car as you began to walk. You smoothed your hands nervously over the skirt of your dress, breath slightly shaky. Missions like these were a part of the job description, but you would never get used to the nerves they gave you.

Or, maybe, the possibility of impending doom wasn’t what was giving you nerves.

Maybe it was the man walking next to you.

You bit your lip at the thought, turning your head to look at him.

“What?” he asked, still facing ahead, surveying the streets around them for possible exit points they could use if the evening went south.

You just shook your head, pushing the thought to the back of your mind. It wasn’t safe to get distracted like this, on a night as potentially dangerous as this one. Instead, you surveyed his body language, noticing that he had adopted a slouch to accompany his floppy hair, gaunt makeup, and glasses.

You snorted. “You look like an old man.”

“I am an old man, thank you very much.” His eyes slid to yours briefly, before facing forwards again.

“Never said it was a bad thing,” you smirked, trying to get a rise out of him before the serious portion of the evening officially began.

He grabbed your wrist suddenly, pulling you flush to his side and wrapping his arm around you.“Oh, I know that you like it,” he whispered, lips brushing against your hair. You felt your throat constrict, and he squeezed your waist before letting you go. “But we’ll have to save that part of the evening for later.”

“If you insist,” you sighed, lacing your voice with faux disappointment, knowing that if there was even a whiff of foul play at tonight’s event, you would both be cool, composed, and on the job, lewd thoughts far from center stage. But, it was fun to tease him, to hope that the gala would be tame, just so that you could go home sooner and do some not-so-tame things with each other.

The venue was a stocky cement building, gray and brutal and unassuming, the windows surprisingly dark. The only indication that it housed a private event was the presence of two guards, their bulky, muscled figures situated on either side of a nondescript metal door. You grabbed Bucky’s hand, fingers intertwining with his, and took a deep breath before you approached the guards.

You cleared your throat. “We’re here for the GRC event.” You clenched your jaw as both guards swept their gazes up and down your’s and Bucky’s bodies.

“Last name?” The one on the right asked gruffly, not bothering to look at your faces, pulling a tablet computer from behind his back to check the guest list.

“Jancovik. Daria Jancovik.” Your voice was steady despite the nerves, the fake name rolling off your tongue.

The guard raised his eyebrows and looked up, stepping to the side and gesturing to the door. “Ah, of course. Miss Jancovik.”

You smiled warmly. Your plan had worked. The real Daria Jancovik, a foreign informer who reported migrants to the GRC, leading to eventual deportation, was on… vacation. You had paid her an earlier visit, advising her to leave the country, to return home and visit her family instead of attending the gala. Bucky had advised you against this approach, claiming that it was too risky, that it would be better to just find a way to sneak in. But, you told him, it was better to enter where the GRC would least expect: the front door. And, it looked like the real Daria Jancovik took your advice-- she obviously wasn’t here.

“Thank you, sir.” You nodded slightly, leading Bucky behind you, hand still clutching his.

“Wait, Miss Jancovik.” The guard barred your entry with an outstretched arm. “The guest list doesn’t say anything about you having a plus one.”

Fuck. You tried not to let your brows furrow, tried to quash the electric feeling of panic that traveled down your spine. You bit your lip and broke into a shy simper, staring up at the guard through fluttering lashes.

“Oh, so sorry, sir,” you drawled slowly, voice dripping with apology. But, your voice shook, a slight tremor belying your confident tone and drawing a suspicious glare from both guards. You hadn’t planned for this. Your palms began sweating again, and your thoughts ran wild, searching for any plausible alibis that would explain your companion. But you couldn’t focus, thoughts erratic and shapeless. Your mouth dropped open, ready to babble some thoughtless, on-the-spot response, when Bucky cleared his throat next to you.

“Sir, I am what you may call a… generous donor.” He enunciated his last words carefully, adopting some strange, implacable and vaguely European accent. His words lilted and swirled lightly in his mouth, further elaborating his mysterious presence.

In spite of this, the guards weren’t convinced. “If you’re not on the list, I can’t let you in.”

Bucky simply stared back at him and squinted, deciding to try a more blunt angle. “I have a previous arrangement with this young woman. I… help her with personal causes. Of a financial nature. And, I was hoping to witness her fine employer in action tonight. I am… willing to spread my generosity to its cause, if I find it to be convincing.” You tried to conceal the awe that threatened to spill on your face at his quick save. And, you wanted to laugh at the insinuation that Bucky was your sugar daddy, some stuffy, lonely old man with heavy pockets brimming with cash. In reality, he struggled to pay rent and didn’t own a bed frame. It was comical, watching him trying to swallow his inner protests at the idea, managing his microexpressions with a steady, slightly uncomfortable stare.

You both paused, letting the guard’s mind wander. 

His eyes flickered to his partner briefly before settling back on you. 

The guard considered for a moment, and then simply nodded, avoiding further elaboration from you about your relationship. He stepped aside again. “Enjoy your night.”

You smiled sweetly at him before stepping past him and opening the door, tugging Bucky behind you.

“Wow,” you muttered as the door creaked shut behind you. A looming, dark passage stretching out before you, the dimly lit, bright red door at the end your final barrier to successfully infiltrating the gala. The thrumming pulse of music seemed to make the walls vibrate. You looked at Bucky, and he dropped your hand, flexing his fingers. “The plan actually worked.”

He laughed, and you both started walking toward the red door. “Only because my old man costume came in handy.”

“Well, like you said earlier,” you hissed. “You are an old man.”

He just shook his head slightly at your recall, and when you were both a foot away from the red door’s threshold, you paused. You did a mental check on your weapons, ticking them off on your mental checklist one by one. Handgun in thigh holster, check. Knife in ankle strap, check. Baggie of poison tablets in bra, check--

“You ready?” Bucky’s voice interrupted your last-minute internal review, and you turned to face him. His concerned expression ignited a whole new kind of nerves in your stomach, warm, fluttery electricity travelling down your limbs like lightning. It was a delicious feeling, and you longed to lean into it, to allow yourself to be cocooned by its enticing, buzzing embrace. To allow your tense muscles to relax, to press your body against his, melting into the muscled, statuesque contours and comforting stability of his body. 

You were most definitely distracted, but that’s because you hadn’t had a proper outlet for your pre-mission jitters. Sucking his cock, watching him devolve into a euphoric, aroused state, had only gotten you more worked up than you usually were before missions. You felt embarrassment bubble in your stomach, a deep red blush travelling up your neck at the thought that you couldn’t control yourself in this moment. Your judgement was clouded, all because you couldn’t fucking function around a man like Bucky Barnes.

Bucky grabbed your chin and tilted your face up to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

You felt bad, noticing the genuine concern behind his eyes, but figured it was best to tell him. You didn’t want to lie and endanger the rest of the mission with your preoccupied thoughts. “Umm-- this doesn’t usually happen, but… I’m a bit… distracted.”

“What’s on your mind?”

You huffed a laugh and bit your lip, trying to gain the courage to tell him the truth. “Uh-- I guess I’m still… still stuck on what happened earlier tonight. Before we left the apartment?” You said it like a question, sentence nervously trailing up in pitch at the end.

His expression was unreadable, the pressing dark of the hallway leaving his face in shadow. But then, his teeth flashed in a broad smile. “I remember what happened,” he said fondly, as if you two were reminiscing on a shared memory before entering battle together. “But what’s holding you up about it right now?”

You took a deep breath. Time to come clean. “I’m just still a bit worked up.”

He raised his brows slightly in surprise, then nodded, face settling into an expression of understanding. “That makes sense. You didn’t get your release.”

“Yeah.” Your voice broke around the single syllable, your blush now flooding your cheeks.

“Well,” he said, dropping his hand from your chin and tracing his fingertips lightly along the curve of your neck, trailing them down your spine until settling at your waist. He squeezed slightly, making you gasp. “How quickly could you cum? If I helped you right now?”

You blinked in disbelief, shocked by his vulgar words, but when he just continued to stare at you expectantly, waiting for a response, you realized that he was serious. You scoffed. “I-- I don’t know. Probably pretty quickly.”

“Good.” He pushed you back, your exposed skin meeting the cool cement of the wall, pounding beats and indistinguishable lyrics pulsing through you to your very core. He stared at you for a moment, drinking in your neediness and saving the image of your blown-out pupils and parted lips for later. And then, he bridged the gap between you, resting his forehead against yours before pressing his mouth lightly against yours.

The kiss was surprisingly soft, despite your admission to a desire so pressing, so consuming, that you couldn’t focus on your job. And then, his teeth grazed against your bottom lip, catching it in a faint, erotic bite. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth, nipples peaking and wetness pooling in your underwear. You felt his lips curve upwards into a smug smile. You simply pulled him closer, sliding your hands up his chest and wrapping your arms around his neck. He took that as an invitation to push the kiss further, his tongue sliding against your swollen lips, softly prying your mouth open. He was sweet, so gentle and patient, but a sense of urgency drove his actions. He wanted to help you, so that you could release that burning tension coiled inside of you. You had treated him so nicely earlier that evening. He hoped to return the favor. Well, that and he also wanted to watch you cum. 

You shuddered another moan into his mouth and he pulled back a fraction, hands tracing down your sides. He grasped the slinky fabric of your dress, pulling the skirt up until it was bunched around your hips, exposing your thin underwear to the cool air and solid press of cement behind you. He let out a low whistle at the sight, the delicate black lace and your soft skin.

You grabbed his wrist, sudden doubt blaring in your brain. “W-wait. What about the mission?”

He simply met your gaze with his, maintaining eye contact while he slowly sunk to his knees in front of you. He twisted his wrist out from your grip, wrapping his hand around one of your ankles and lifting your leg, bringing it up to rest on his shoulder. Your heart pounded in your chest.

“Yeah? What about the mission?” 

You could feel his hot breath against your clothed pussy as he answered, his voice low and rumbly in his chest. You pressed your head into the wall behind you, trying to fight the urge to twine your hands through his hair and beckon him to where you needed him most. Despite your weak protests, you desperately hoped that he would continue his actions. “Shouldn’t we--”

Your words trailed off into a long, loud moan as he quickly moved your underwear to the side and licked a long, wet stripe up your aching slit. He pulled back slightly to look up at you, and he hummed, pleased at your desperation, your knotted brows rosy cheeks. 

“It’s alright, darling.” He scraped his fingernails teasingly up your other leg, chuckling as it buckled under you at the unexpected stimulation. And then, he settled that hand on your inner thigh, pressing his thumb against the soft skin and circling it lightly in a teasing massage. “We’ll make it quick.”

He waited for you to consent before continuing. You just nodded, not trusting yourself to form words, and he smiled wickedly before dragging his fingers against your wetness and plunging two digits into your center.

You gasped at the sudden intrusion, his thick fingers igniting a pleasant ache as they pushed inside of you, stroking your tight walls slowly until they relaxed around him. When he leaned forward, closing his mouth against your clit and flicking it with his tongue, you sighed. He lapped at your wetness eagerly, lips making an obscene smacking sound. You felt your muscles relax, that enticing, stirring warmth quickly travelling through your body as he teased you into a state of relaxed arousal.

He pulled back yet again to look at you, and you wanted to moan at the loss of his tongue, but he replaced it by circling the pad of his thumb against your sensitive nub. He noticed your hands, balled tightly at your sides, and he laughed. 

“You can grab my hair if you want, baby. I don’t mind if everyone in there sees that I have sex hair.” He jutted his chin towards the door as he increased the pace of his fingers thrusting inside of you.

That permission was all you needed. You reached forward and twined one hand through his hair, bringing his face closer to you and inviting him to continue his earlier ministrations. Your other hand remained rooted against the wall, a necessary point of balance as he made you fall apart at his command. He replaced his mouth at your center, making you shudder.

It was warm, it was rough, and it was everything you needed. You tried not to think about the risk of intrusion, of the guards outside letting in other guests and getting an eyeful of a private moment. Or, if someone opened the red door and wandered in, they would be right on top of you, close enough to smell the musk of your arousal and see the pebbled peaks of your nipples pressing through the satin of your dress. It would be humiliating. Bucky would never let you live it down, forever reminding you on future missions about the time when you were caught with your legs wrapped around his ears. But, if you were being honest with yourself, the thought of someone walking in and witnessing you, drenched and dirty and moaning all because of him, only served to turn you on even more. A loud moan erupted from your lips, wetness squelching as he curled his fingers inside of you and sucked lewdly. You pulled his hair tightly, urging him on as you came closer and closer to completion.

In response to the sharp tugging of your fingers, he moaned, echoing the shameless sounds that were tumbling from your lips. The faint vibrations, the low, gruff sound of him as he lost himself in the endeavor of giving you pleasure, made you clench around him. A glowing pool of warmth began to form in your stomach, tension building and building. You bit your lip. The feeling of his mouth, sliding and sucking against your clit, and the sensation of his fingers spreading you open and coaxing sweet, high-pitched moans from your lips. It was almost too much. You slapped the wall with your free hand, twitching with pleasure as a deep, burning tension began to build.When his curled fingers rubbed against the spongy, sensitive spot inside of you, that was it.

With a high, keening cry, you fell over the edge, your orgasm wracking your body. A copious gush of wetness flooded from your center, likely drenching his face, and your legs trembled, threatening to buckle beneath you. He sensed this, his free hand pressing your hips roughly against the wall, still thrusting his fingers inside of you and suckling your clit. He fucked you through your orgasm, wringing every last ounce of warm, dripping pleasure from your body, not slowing down or stopping until a dull, tired ache bloomed in your center and you had to pull him back by his hair. He grinned up at you, making eye contact with you through his lashes, a slick wetness clinging to his upper lip. He huffed a laugh at the reluctant sucking sound your pussy made when he slipped his fingers out.

You rolled your eyes and he guided your leg off of his shoulder, making sure it was planted firmly on the ground before moving your underwear neatly back into place. He rose from his kneeling position. As he grasped your waist, your skirt fell back down around you in a dramatic curtain, and he pulled you close, kissing you lightly. The taste of you on his lips was intoxicating.

He pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against yours, and stared at you with a half-lidded, deeply satisfied expression. He had liked making you come apart just as much as you had appreciated the release.

“Uh oh,” he whispered, grabbing your chin and examining your face. “Looks like we ruined your lipstick again.”

You laughed, a raspy, tired sound, and smacked his chest lightly, stepping back. “Well,” you sighed, smiling up at him. “I don’t mind. I’ll go straight to the bathroom to fix it. Brought an extra tube of lipstick in my purse for any… potential touch-ups.”

He raised his eyebrows, smoothing a hand over his mussed hair and straightening the cuffs of his sleeves. “Sounds like you planned for this to happen.”

You shook your head. “Only subconsciously.”

He grinned, and you both turned to face the red door. Despite the fact that just moments before, you were writhing around his fingers, wanton moans swallowed by the diffused thump of techno music, you felt serene, ready to jump into action. No more distracting thoughts clouded your mind.

“Ready?” He asked, reaching for the knob, waiting for your confirmation before continuing.

You nodded in affirmation and smiled, eyes crinkling. 

“Ready.”

He turned the knob and swung the door open. You walked through the doorway side by side, partners in crime, ready to meet whatever awaited you beyond its threshold.

[bibbykins]

Penumbric Commitments (M)

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day!! I wrote this up real quick yesterday, so please forgive any lacking in quality, but I had the idea and absolutely sprinted with it! I hope you all enjoy and look forward to the next full length fic I post, which I gave a not so little hint in here to!

Warnings: 18+, unhealthy relationship, manipulation, yelling, rough sex, light bondage, the usage of a belt as wrist restraints (consensual), brief fingering, male cumming inside, talking about not wanting a child, daddy kink, threatening to leave, offering to kill someone, semi-graphic talks of killing someone

Word count: 3.8k

Genre: Soft Yandere, Mafia! Au

Summary: Hindsight says Namjoon so easily complying with not having children was too easy considering his position in the business and the nightmare his parents had readily become. What you didn't realize was how far Namjoon was willing to prove to you he meant what he said that day: all you both ever need is each other.

Note: this is a canon drabble apart of the Silhouetted Bonds fic linked here

It's times like these that you regret getting a traditional clock. The ticking was incessant and daunting. It felt like it was getting closer and closer to your ear with the deafening silence it was slicing through. Analogs had to be the way to go, or better yet, none at all. The last thing you needed right now was a reminder of how much time has been spent at this table. Namjoon had sprinted home the moment his mother called him after your meeting with her. 

----

"Mrs. Kim, always a pleasure." You shook the older woman's hand with a tight smile. 

She returned yours with an equally fake smile, "Please, you know you can call me mother." She chided, but nevertheless you stayed silent as you sat back down at the table in your home. It used to be mom.

It was 8 a.m. your mother in law wanted to meet, so to be petty, you stated 9 a.m. would be great. It's a shame that your relationship with her came to this, but truthfully, it was far from your fault.

While in the beginning she had been like a mother to you, things quickly took a steep downturn the moment Namjoon reintroduced you into his life. The woman who had once been lively, rebellious, and took charge became a demure, stoic, and merely content wife. She had given you talks about your duty as the wife of the boss and the expectations she expected you to fulfill nowadays as opposed to telling stories of her youth and teaching you how to bake eccentric treats. She had even admonished you for leaving Namjoon, an idea she gave you really. Since then, she had always stated your allegiance to the business and your own husband had yet to be proven in her eyes. The notion struck you to only provide her with business professional talks.

You had always known her and Namjoon's father had been a marriage of convenience, but there seemed to be intense love between them, at least at one point. You're not sure when that collapsed in your absence, and sure you felt bad,but you did not care for her patronizing tones. If Namjoon wouldn't retaliate, she almost definitely would've had you killed the moment you decided to leave her precious son. 

"Now, I understand you're a busy woman, so I'll be chaste." She spoke as she took her seat, giving you a pointed look, "Do you feel as though you've made up for your betrayal?" This was obviously a trick question in her eyes, the simple answer being no.

However, you couldn't care less, "I have never betrayed anyone close to me, including Namjoon, if that's what you mean." You met her eyes with valor, "I don't see why you feel the need to ask such a silly question each time I see you." 

She laughed humorlessly, "Maybe I'm hoping for the right answer to cross your stubborn mind." Truly, if Namjoon didn't love and cherish his parents so much you would've told her to fuck off and mind her business, maybe focus on her own shitty marriage, by now. Alas, Namjoon was a people pleaser and fiercely intent on being a filial son.

"You mean your answer to the question about how I feel?" You raised a brow, "Even when apart from Namjoon, I took no other man. I've never even lied to Namjoon, I've been nothing but an honest and hardworking wife after forgiving his own shortcoming in honesty." You watch her fist clench in her lap at the suggestion of her precious boy having a shortcoming of any sort, "A shortcoming well remedied, seeing as I'm still here." You chided lightly in spite of the heavy tension. You pitied your staff in this moment for having to watch this battle of wills.

"Sometimes husbands lie to… protect, their wives." She struggled to find the right words as she regurgitated what Namjoon's father undoubtedly told her one too many times. Misery loves company, and goodness, did she want you to be as miserable as her.

You returned her fake smile two fold before speaking, "That's lovely, but I don't need protecting from my husband, I need trust, honesty, respect." The final word made her back straighten, "I'd like to live in reality with him, not be shielded from it, but I respect what you wish for your own marriage, but this is what I like for mine." 

She hummed in faux thought, "Very well, I can leave you to reflect on what marriage should be, you're still so young." You fought the urge to roll your eyes, "However, you're not that young…" This was a new addition, "When will I be receiving a grandchild?" 

Your brows furrowed. Namjoon told you she took the news of no grandchildren quite well. He told you that she was informed of your no children rule mere days after you spoke the words. The radio silence on the topic of children each time you met with either of his parents confirmed much for you, and you had even found yourself quite proud of him for standing his ground with you. Surely, his parents are not nearly old enough to be so forgetful.

This was the first question in a while that made you falter, and you could see the satisfaction she gained from it, "Grandchildren? I'm unsure what you-"

"Namjoon told me the last time I visited him in prison, you wanted to wait for your fifth wedding anniversary before trying for children, isn't that coming up quite soon?" She raised a brow and you felt your heart shatter. 

He lied to you. Again. He lied to you mere moments after you were ready to forgive him for lying to you the first time.

You let out a bitter laugh, "He did now?" She nodded and you shut your eyes for a moment, "It seems I've been made a fool of again." You sighed before looking as confusion crossed your mother-in-law's features, "I told Namjoon the very last time I visited him in prison that I did not want kids, ever."

"You know that's not possible for him, he's a successor." She laughed at your boldness.

"You know that he is an adult man with 6 brothers, biological or not, who will all marry one day, surely one of them will adopt or have a child." She scoffed at this, "I got my tubes tied years ago." This wiped the smile off her face.

"Does Namjoon know about this?" She snapped and you nodded with a bitter smile.

"He accompanied me to the appointment for moral support." You shot back.

"Well, your tubes can be untied and-"

"No." You deadpanned.

"No?" She mimicked in disbelief.

 "If Namjoon requires a child, he will also require a new wife." Your voice was cold and you watched shock settle into the woman across from you, "With his habit of lying coming to light, he may have to find a new wife regardless."

She stood, "Don't be-"

"Please, do not waste your breath on orders I will not be following." You held your hand up to silence her.

"I'll call Namjoon, he can talk this out with you, so you can see things our way." She tried to sound reassuring as one of your staff rushed to see her out respectfully when you did not budge from your seat.

You stayed seated at the mahogany table, staring at your wedding ring. You didn't want to get a divorce. You loved Namjoon, more than anything, and yet, did he love you more than anything?

----

You're not sure how long you stayed there, questioning everything, but it was enough time for Namjoon to come home. He ripped the door open, eyes searching frantically, ready to make sure you had not already left him before his eyes landed on your figure. From there, he took his seat across from you at the table and waited until he could no longer take the silence.

"Are you going to say anything?" Your husband's voice was calm, although fear was evident in his timbre.

You sucked your teeth and shrugged, continuing to look at your freshly manicured nails, "What's there to say?" Your voice was short, as if you were already tired of the conversation before it could even start, "You lied to me."

Your husband dropped his head into his hands and sighed, "Junebug, I'm sorry, I-"

"You embarrassed me, again." You look at him for the first time all night with a sharp glare, "Are you trying to find an excuse to divorce or do you just not care about me?" 

"Neither!" His head shot up and he met your eyes with deep regret when he realized you were looking at him with the anger and hurt he found you with all this years ago, "I love you, more than anything-"

"Obviously not!" You snapped, "Do you have any idea how it feels to explain to your shitty and judgy mother in law that, in spite of what her precious son said, you had no plans to have children, that you got your fucking tubes tied?!" Namjoon sighed, either in shame or pain, "Were you just hoping that would come around? That I'm such a fickle woman that I don't mean what I say?" 

His brows furrowed, "No, if I thought that, why did I let you get your tubes tied?!"

"Let me?" Your voice was mockingly soft, "You let me, huh?" You cocked your head slightly and he closed his eyes in frustration, "How fucking charitable of you, my sweet husband, master of the fucking house, to let your dumb little wife make a choice for her body!" You stood, "How considerate of you to play supportive husband only to fold the moment your mother asks you a question-"

"You know what my duty as the only son is!" It was his turn to raise his voice, but he immediately regretted it as he saw your eye twitch.

"And you knew my stance on kids before you got out of prison." You seethed, "You know why I don't want a fucking kid, nor do I plan to fold on my stance, because I'm all I've got left there." Namjoon's mouth parted slightly before he pressed his lips together.

"It's not my fault you don't want a kid because you'd be a bad mother just like your own." The words left his mouth before he could even begin to consider the repercussions. He was about to open his mouth again to back track wildly, but it was far too late as you took a step back, the weight of his words being too much to take from across the table.

He watched hurt consume your irises for only the second time in his life, the first time being mere hours before you left him for years, before you made him promise to never betray you like that again as a condition for you to come back to him. A condition that he evident did not adhere to in your eyes. "Do you want to know what made my mother such a bad mother?" He watched as the embers of rage within your eyes were only stoked by his reflection in your pupils, although he could see a thin layer of moisture begin to build up, pain, "You know, like I would be?" Your words were almost mocking as he stayed eerily still, "An unsupportive, isolating, and shitty sorry excuse for a fucking husband." Your word hit him like a truck.

Unsupportive. Isolating. Sorry excuse for a husband.

You weren't wrong right now. He felt shitty. He knew he should've just stood his ground. His parents didn't matter if it meant losing you, "I didn't mean that, what I said about-"

"You're right." A tear fell and he felt his heart shatter, "So if you want a kid, it'll have to be with someone else."

"I don't want anyone else, I never have!" He made his way to you as you weakly stepped back, "You're all I need." His voice was soft as he went to grab your hand, but you pulled away.

"You said that last time." Your tears were beyond your control as you wiped at them in vain, "You said that mere days before you told your mom that we were going to have kids and you told me your mom took the news well." You sniffled, "You lied to me, I can't believe that you lied to me and let me just walk around like a fool believing you, again!" 

He was stunned silent again. You were right. He had lost his back bone under the strict gaze of his parents and folded under pressure. He betrayed you, and all he could do was hope for your forgiveness.

You shook your head as he remained mute, "I need some time." You went to walk past him and to the door but he engulfed you in a hug, "Namjoon!" You struggled weakly to pull him from you but froze when you heard a sniffle.

"Please, don't go." He begged as he held you close, "I can't lose you again, I'm so sorry, please."

You fought sobs from escaping your mouth, "You lied to me, and your mom-"

"I'll kill her if you want me to." He spoke and your blood ran cold at his tone. He was serious, "My mom and my dad, I'll tell them we're not having children and if they can't handle that, they can leave us alone or die."

Your eyes were wide, tears frozen in time. Namjoon loved his parents. He was always a kid intent on surpassing their expectations, and he had made that clear to you when you started dating in highschool. You were his only sign of rebellion. He was intended to marry a woman from an affluent family, but he met you. You had figured that would be where his rebellion ended, but here he was, handing his parent's hearts in your hands and awaiting orders.

"Joonie, y-you can't mean-" You sputtered to reason but he only held you tighter.

"Or even if you just want me to kill them, I will, with my own hands of course, nobody else can know." His remained headstrong in his resolve, stroking your hair, "I don't care what I have to do to keep you with me." He kissed the top of your head, "You are the only person, the only thing on this Earth that matters to me I cannot live without you." 

A sick, and extremely twisted part of you wanted to call your mother-in-law and say, "Hah!" You wanted to rub it in her face that her son, in spite of everything, chose you. Her precious boy has been yours for years now. However, your sanity slipped through the cracks as you shook your head again.

"You love your parents." You shook your head as you cried into his chest, "And if you felt that way, why would you lie to me?"

He sniffled, "I was weakened, not 100% sure you would truly accept me with open arms and I panicked when they asked." He sighed, "I know it's pathetic and I know I seemed like I knew we would make it, but I didn't know that. They never brought it up after that so I naively thought they would forget and when they asked me again, I would tell them the truth and-"

"You're so stupid." You cried harder into his chest and felt him nod, "If you're scared to face your parents, tell me, and we'll do it together." You were surely ruining his dress shirt, but he stroked your hair soothingly, "Your mom has been calling me a shitty wife for years and after today, she must truly believe it, and I-I should take some time-" Namjoon held you, arms sliding down your body as he got down to his needs and you felt your heart drop, and you gasped, "Stop, don't-" 

You tried to help him up but he grabbed your wrists as he looked up at you with tear stained cheeks and eyes as wet as yours, shaking his head at your frantic protests as he kissed your hands and your wedding ring tenderly, "I can't lose you again." His voice was weighty with sorrow at the thought of you being away from him, "You matter more to me than my duty as a successor does, than my parents do, even more than this whole fucking business." He rubbed his cheek against your hand in desperation as you stood frozen from the shock of Namjoon begging on his knees with the utmost humility. The most powerful man in the city, undoubtedly the country as well, was on his knees crying and begging you to stay, "If killing my parents is what I have to do to prove it, I will. Name how you want it done, when you want it done, and I'll do it." He was dead serious and he could tell you knew it as tears spilled onto your cheeks even more, "You're a better wife than I deserve, and all I can ever hope is to be even a fraction of the husband you deserve, and I'm sorry I've been missing the mark." This made your face twist in pain, regret. Namjoon, up until today, had been nothing short of perfect, and even now he was making up for it, "Almost losing you nearly killed me, and-and I get that sometimes people need time to calm down but I would just prefer you beat the shit out of me instead-"

"I didn't mean that either!" You cried out as you sunk down to your knees to hug the sobbing man before you, "You aren't a sorry excuse for a husband, you're just a goddamn idiot, and I didn't want time I just didn'twant to see your stupid face because I was so angry." You laughed as he did for a moment, "Above all else, you're an amazing husband. I love you, always have, I just hate when you lie-" Your voice in his ear was like heaven as he felt a weight lift of his shoulders.

He grabbed your legs to wrap around his waist before you could properly settle onto your knees. He held you close and he soothed your cries, "I haven't lied to you since, I can promise you that." He sighed and you scoffed, "You don't have to believe me. I'm just asking you to stay with me so I can prove it over time." 

"I'm...I'm not leaving you." You sighed into his neck before he pulled you back to trap your lips between his as he kissed your with a vigorous passion. When you returned his kiss with an equal amount of desperation, he began to stand with you in his arms before promptly laying you on the couch, never detaching his mouth from yours the whole time.

You settled into the velvet cushions as he ground himself into your sex, making you gasp, "I love you, my darling." He murmured into your mouth while one of his hands slid your dress up and your panties to the side before brushing his fingers across your pussy and groaning at your wetness, "Oh fuck, you're so wet, baby." His mouth went to your ear as you moaned, threading your fingers into his hair, "Was it me promising to kill for you or me getting onto my knees that did it, hm?" He rubbed slow circles over your clit and you gasped, "You get off on me spilling blood for you? You get wet by me demeaning myself to keep you right here, where you belong?" 

"Yes, daddy, I do- fuck!" You clutched his hair harder as his finger slipped in and your hips wiggled impatienly, "Just fuck me, I don't care about being stretched, fuck me." 

Too desperate to even hesitate, Namjoon undid his belt, ripping it from his trousers as he secured your wrists within the leather garment, as he had done many times before. He undid your belt as he pushed your arms up and his pants down with his boxers. He slid into you with a deep groan that you matched with a wanton moan. He fucked himself into you feverishly, wasting no time in chasing your high as his nimble finger went down to stimulate your clit, "I love you so fucking much, y/n." He groaned as he felt you tighten, "I don't care who I have to kill to prove it, I'll even let you watch the light drain from their fucking eyes if it means you'll stay with me." 

You moaned out as he whispered gruesome threats to the outside world intermingling with sweet nothings as he held the belt around your wrists,using it as leverage to fuck you harder. If you were sane, you would not be getting closer and closer to orgasm as he cursed the rest of the world into painful deaths just to have you as his wife, but here you were, clenching around him and opening your legs further so he can go deeper, "Shit, I'm gonna cum!" You cried out, arms going over Namjoon's head so you could pull him down to you by the neck and kiss his lips messily.

His hand went from your clit as he wrapped his arm around you to hoist you up and slam himself into you further, "That's right baby, cum for daddy and I'll give you my cum." He cooed in spite of the strain to keep himself from busting you before you get your release. His words only threw you over the edge as you climaxed, hurdling him into his own. He fucked his cum into you like always and you moaned lightly until he was done.

He held himself inside of you as you both gained your breath again, exchanging occasional kisses, "You don't have to kill them, you know." You spoke finally "Although, I won't be so cordial with their bullshit anymore."

He nodded, "I'm by your side, Junebug, forever and always." You smiled before kissing him.

"And I, you." You hummed blissfully.

"We have everything we need between just the two of us, I promise." He smiled against your kiss while you nodded, "You'll be the only one calling me daddy for the rest of out lives- hey!" You smack his chest lightly as you both laughed blissfully, letting the seriously twisted shit that just transpired be a simple part of the past.

"Your mom is a bitch." You giggled tiredly as he chuckled.

"Don't worry about being nice to her if you don't want to, I have my priorities straight." He gave you another kiss that you returned with glee.

As he was cleaning you up, your hazy mind allowed you to feel smug at the fact that you just saved your shitty in-laws from certain death. You were their ticket to life. You were their precious successor's priority. You were his only true love.

Namjoon watched with nothing but love as he tucked your sleeping form into bed. Thinking on it now, he doesn't know if he could even stand the idea of you loving a child as much as you loved him. He enjoyed his monopoly over your affection, and a child would only throw a wrench in that for him. Taehyung liked kids, Jungkook seemed like a family man, maybe even Hoseok if that new girl he's saying is as serious for him as he says. All it took was one kid to carry on the business, so you didn't need to worry your pretty little head about it.

All you had to worry about was staying by his side and all he had to worry about was being a good enough husband to keep you there. He kissed your forehead as he held you closer to him, texting his mom the next time she disrespects you or his marriage, there would be consequences. 

You were the only person he needed. He would do anything to make you understand that. 

The ticking of the clock was nowhere to be heard as you laid in Namjoon's arms. You snuggled into him as you caught sight of the thinly veiled threat he sent to his own mother on account of your feelings. He was yours just as much yours were his and the victory of it all had never tasted so sweet. His heartbeat was all you could hear, steady, loving, and to the beat of the drum you commanded. 

You both wouldn't have it any other way.

Masterlist

If you enjoyed and are able, please support my ko-fi!

[forever-rogue]

Hii! From Prompt List 1 can u do number 3,51 and 243 w javier peña please ✨

Also i love ur writings so much ⭐

3. "Am I supposed to be scared of you?"

51. "Go on them, tell me. Tell me you don't love me."

243. "Oh my God, you're in love with her!"

Enjoy!

Javier Peña x Fem!Reader ; warnings: language

Javier Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Tell me," there was nothing but venom lacing your voice as you stared at Javier. Your face was slick with tears as you tried to keep your lips from trembling. You wanted to break down, gods knew you did, but you weren't about to give him the satisfaction. You would do that as soon as he walked out of your apartment for what would be the last time, "go on then, tell me. Tell me you don't love me."

"Don't do this cariño," the bastard had the audacity to try and call you by your pet name, "you know this is the way. The only way."

"You're such a damn liar," you hissed at him. You should have seen this coming. You should have known. 

You shouldn't have fallen in love with Javier Peña.

"We always knew what we were doing was wrong," it was a meek insistence, hollow and empty and neither of you quite believed it, "it was never supposed to go this far."

"This far? This far?" you wanted to scream, to grab his shoulders and shake him, to knock some sort of sense into him, but instead you just stared at him, eyes glossy with unshed tears, "did you think we would fuck and that’s it? I told you it was never going to be just that. And you never seemed to have a problem with that."

"You need to stop," this time it was more firm and his nostrils flared as he tried to control the hit of rage that had seemed into his bones, "we both knew what this was from the start. It was just sex."

"You're here, in my apartment, lying to my face," you sniffled as you dabbed at your eyes and wished you would wake up to find this was a horrible dream. You wished you'd wake up, wrapped in his arms while he slept soundly, like you had so many other times. You wished, you wished, you wished. But that didn't change the reality of the situation, nor the gravitas of it, "if you can look in my eyes and tell me you don't love me - never loved me - do it. If you can do it, I'll let this go."

"You're being ridiculous," he huffed and rolled his eyes ever so slightly as his hands went to his hips. 

"I'm being ridiculous?" your voice rose up about two octaves as you realized just how hysterical you did sound. But it didn't matter - once Javier had made up his mind, he was a stubborn piece of work. But you refused to let this go, "I'm not the grown man that won't even admit his own feelings. That runs every time something comes up. That shuts out everyone and everything anytime it gets real."

"Maybe you're just thinking too much into this!" and there it was - the fiery temper that he was famous for. It wasn't shocking because it had suddenly jumped out; it was shocking because he'd never raised his voice at you, "maybe you just want to make something out of nothing! It was never anything - it was just sex. Why can't you just accept that?"

"Am I supposed to be scared of you?" you raised your voice and yelled back with just as much as anger and spite as he spit at you, "you're a liar and a coward. You can't even look at me - if you don't love me fucking tell me!"

"I'm not doing this right now," he huffed as stepped over the threshold, shoulders rising and falling in rapid movements as tired to control his anger, "I'm done - whatever we had, its over now."

"Javier," you tried to reach for his hand, but he was quick to pull out of your grasp, causing you to sigh heavily, "don't walk away - not like this."

"There's nothing left to say," he insisted quietly, staring at the floor, rather than daring to look in your eyes, "I'll see you at work and that's that. Everything else is done. Obviously you cannot handle this."

"You're just going to walk away," you were incredulous as a few tears of grief and anger rolled down your cheeks, "fuck you, Javier. I hate you." 

You slammed the door shut before he could say anything else. Tears were heavily pouring down your cheeks and spilling onto the cool slide as you sank to the floor. Small ugly little sobs racked your body as you gave up and in to your pathetic inner, upset self. You loved him, you really, really did. You knew that. 

You knew he loved you too. You knew he was scared. Damn scared. And it was okay - if he would have opened up to you.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“You look like shit,” Steve barely looked up from his coffee and morning review of documents as Javier stormed in, practically slamming himself down in his chair. He groaned and flipped Steve the middle finger before reaching for his cigarettes, effortlessly lighting it up and leaning back, “what happened to you?”

Javier closed his eyes but remained silent, a vain attempt at letting his mind wander too far. He hadn’t slept the night before, mind and thoughts racing over and over with snippets of his conversation with you. Your words had stuck in his mind all night: coward, coward, coward. And you had been right. 

He was a coward; pathetic and scared all because he didn’t want to risk getting hurt. Or hurting you. And in the end he had managed to do both. It was never supposed to go this far, it was never supposed to be anything more than sex, but the lines had become so blurred and so fast, and before he knew - he was in love.

And that terrified the shit out of him. 

So he reacted how he tended to do; to push you away. To isolate himself. It was supposed to be easy, supposed to work. All it had down was leave him with regret eating him up alive. He should have admitted you were right, he should have confessed. If there was anyone worth taking a chance on - it was you. He’d known it was you from the first time you’d had sex it was just...different. Different from every other experience he’d had. And gods, how he’d slowly fallen for all the little things you did, all your little quirks. 

Your smile, that laugh, those eyes that seemed to convey a million emotions at once. Your steadfast stubbornness, the fact that you always called him on his bullshit, how you never backed down from confrontation, how you gave so much to others and asked for so little. How you’d chide him for getting even a papercut, and how you’d love him, even when he didn’t ask you to. How you;d take him in your arms, wordlessly, and give him everything he needed and then some, how you’d chase away his fears and pain. How - 

Everything. 

He was in deep, and when it came down to the wire, he’d run. Like a liar and a coward. 

His eyes snapped open and landed on the desk, the spot you normally occupied and found it empty. A scowl tugged on his features as his brows knitted together, “where is she?”

“Hmm?” Steve looked back up and followed Javi’s line of sight before he shrugged lightly, “I talked to her this morning, said she wasn’t feeling good.”

“Bullshit,” he hissed under his breath, just enough for Steve to hear, “did she say when she’s coming back?”

“I dunno, Javi,” Steve sighed heavily, “she’s a grown woman, if she’s not feeling well, she’s not feeling well. She’ll be back when she’s better. Calm down.”

“Steve-”

“Oh god - you’re in love with her. Aren’t you?” the smirk tugging on his features was undeniable as Javier rolled his eyes but refused to look over, “I knew it - everyone knew it.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” his mouth went dry as he looked at his partner and felt like slamming his head against the wall. Of course. It’s so obvious.

“I mean...it’s just...everyone’s known, Javi,” Steve couldn’t help but laugh at the surprised look on his face, “it’s so obvious. You’re different because of her - for her. You might be the last person to know. Shit...you haven’t told her, have you?”

Javier made a small sound in his throat but otherwise remained silent as he stared at your desk. Not feeling well my ass, he thought to himself before running a hand over his tired face. 

But you didn’t come back the next day. Or the day after that. Or the day after that. Or - 

Shit. He had really messed up. 

You were all he could think about, plaguing his waking and sleeping hours as he tried to figure out what to do. His mind was on you as he sat in the office and smoked cigarette after cigarette and glossed over paperwork. You were in his every thought as he and Steve chased after some of Escobar’s men; so much that he almost slipped up and let them get away. 

By Friday afternoon, he couldn’t handle it any longer. This was ridiculous and he was going to put an end to it all, one way or another.

Javier almost jumped out of his seat, grabbing his leather jacket and half empty pack of cigarettes without a word as he stormed out of the office. Steve barely looked up in time to catch him, his question dying on his tongue as he watched his partner storm out. He didn’t have to ask to know exactly what was going on.

Finally, he thought to himself shaking his head, finally. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Open the door," Javier's voice was commanding but it still managed to shake as he rapped his knuckles against the peeling paint of your door, "cariño, I know you're in there…"

And you were. You were curled up on the couch in your pajamas, an empty bottle of wine on the table as an old, cheesy romance movie played in the background. The lights were off and you were tired, but you still couldn't manage to find sleep. 

You'd avoided going into the office for the last couple of days, feigning illness and earning a scoff from the ambassador, but nothing else was said. In the time you'd been in Colombia, you'd never so much as used a single sick day, so they didn't question you. But of course your partners did. Well, one of them. The other had known exactly what was going and it had been eating him up inside, even if he wasn't ready to admit it.

But his little heart to heart with Steve had inspired him - practically shoved him in the right direction. You'd been on his mind rent free since he'd left. Hell - for much longer than that.

"Go away," you managed to croak out before burrowing further into your pillow, feeling a fresh wave of tears spill down your cheeks at his presence. Knowing you almost had him but didn't was heartbreaking, "you made it clear we have nothing, Javier.”

“Open the damn door,” there was a tone in his voice that you hadn’t heard before - was that...desperation? Javier paused and sighed heavily, “please. I-I...fuck, I fucked up.”

“If you’re going to play some sort of cruel joke, save your breath,” you huffed, “like you said, we are nothing. We’ll be work partners and that’s it.”

There was a beat of silence and a part of you thought he left, you were almost relieved at the thought. But before you knew it, you heard the keys jingling in the lock and the door opened; you cursed yourself for giving him a spare set. Either way, he probably could have figured out how to get in anyways. He just couldn’t let it go.

“Cariño,” he came and swiftly made his way over to you, frowning when he saw you all curled up and the discarded mess around you, "I-"

"Go away, Javi," it was a pathetic plea as you glanced up at him. His heart felt it was going to shatter and break at the sight of your red, glossy eyes as you sniffled at him, "haven't you done enough? Or should I be apologizing for having feelings and being honest about them?"

"I should be begging you for forgiveness," he dropped to his knees beside you, a hand tentatively reaching out to you, as he tried to see if you would pull away. Despite wanting to, instead wishing you could yell and scream, you stay rooted in position as he gently pushed your hair out of your hair. He brushed his thumb gently over your cheek as your eyes fluttered closed at the familiar touch, "I am so sorry."

"Sorry for what?" your brow furrowed at his words, "you made yourself very clear."

"I fucked up - you're right. I am a liar and a coward," he confessed as your eyes snapped back open to meet his. They were gentle, softened in the corners with the crinkles that you adored so much, "I realized I had feelings and I panicked. I shut you out and hurt you."

"My head hurts, Javier," you sighed slightly, "just get to the point."

"I love you," he admitted and suddenly it felt your heart had dropped into your stomach as you stared at him. He was sure you must have heard the wild beating of his heart as he tried to anticipate your reaction, "I-I'm in love with you."

"If this is your idea of a joke," you moved his hand away and sat up, trying to prepare yourself for any possibility, "its even more fucked up than just breaking my heart. I knew what this started this and I should have stopped it when I started to catch feelings but I-"

But Javier didn't let you say anything further. Instead, he cut you off by crashing his lips onto yours and kissing you deeply - slowly and with meaning. It was an easy dance, one you'd done hundreds of times before. But this time just felt...different.

His arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you close, and yours wound around his neck. Effortless and easy, just like everything with him was. It was anything frenzied or hurried, but slow and gentle as he tried to convey his every thought and feeling through his touch. He thought his heart might burst when he felt your smile whilst his lips, as you carded a hand through his dark locks.

Only when you were both breathless and drunk off of each other did you pull apart. He stared at you, his gaze soft as you grabbed his face and delicately cradled it before pressing another kiss to his lips.

"I hope this means what I think it means or I'm going to have to murder you," you whispered against his lips, as his own tugged into a smile, "because I am in love you and I don't know if I can ever change that."

"It means I'm an idiot," he admitted, "a cowardly fool that ran when things got real - although they were always real. Its obvious, isn't it? I just never realized."

"That's because you gave a thick skull, Peña," you gently tapped a knuckle against the side of his head, "and you need to learn to be more open - with me anyway. You don't have to be afraid, Javi. Not with me; I'm not going anywhere, you know that. I know you - the real you - and nothing about you scares me or whatever you think it is. I love you and that means every little bit of you."

"I…" he paused for a moment, inhaling and exhaling slowly as your words washed over him. His heart had never felt warmer or more light as he realized the immense weight your words held. He closed his eyes and nodded, gently pressing his forehead against yours, "I love you. Fully and completely cariño. Even if I am an idiot."

"My idiot," you promised softly, "just talk to me next time, okay? Don't run and hide - stay with me. It'll be okay, you will always have me."

"Fuck," he whispered as he pulled you into his arms and wrapped you up in the tightest hug possible, "I'm sorry - so sorry. I love you."

"I love you, Javier," you whispered, "stay with me?"

"Always."

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[mdhwrites]

Why Does Amity Love Luz?

Someone asked me that and I felt like expanding my thoughts on it for everyone. The short summary version is that Luz, from who she is, what she believes in, and what she does, is Amity's dream and then proved she herself was all of that and more as a person. A nice girl who made things simple who rewarded Amity for being who she is, all while both push each other to be better.

Now let's break some of that down. What is Amity's dream first? Well, what is it that's wrong with her life? She has parents who ask everything of her just so she can be accepted, siblings who break the rules and get praised regardless of breaking the rules and just being kind of awful people, she has a task she has put in front of herself that for a 14 year old with no support can seem impossible, and every attempt she has made to connect with people has ended surface deep at most or were taken away from her if they grew to be something more. Even expressing her happier side has ended up hurting people (the thorn vault), something she obviously hates to have ever done but being cruel and mean has always been what she's taught and shown as working and rewarded.

But then there's Luz. This girl who at first seems to be just another person like her siblings. She broke the rules and got her in trouble after all. But... She also apologized. And in the Convention, she recognized that she was in the wrong. Gave Amity the win in spite of how much it would mean sacrificing due to their oath, in spite of showing how hard she was trying to be a proper witch and how much that means to her, just like Amity. Then she could have abandoned Amity in the library but wanted to apologize to her instead. Didn't abandon her like everyone else. At every turn that Luz could be like the rest of her world, like everything she knows, she turned around and came back to show Amity this world that seemed impossible. A world where the good are rewarded. A world where connection makes people stronger, not weaker. A world where you can be happy, strong, and true to yourself, all with proof from Luz's hard work

Of course, a dream is sweet but I think that it has grown to be more. After all, while Luz was at one point a glimpse into a place in the universe where she could be everything she wanted, she's been taught hard lessons in what that sort of thing can lead to. But Luz is also the girl who loves Azura like her. Who thinks school is the coolest thing and wants nothing more to learn everything, just like her. She's the nice girl who will celebrate every one of Amity's accomplishments, big or small, because they're victories, not just assumed. She's cute, she's happy, she's everything Amity could want. Even the flaws Luz has, caring too much, not thinking things through, those are things that feed into Amity's love for how much Luz just loves life and those around her.

From a writing standpoint, Amity's love makes absolute sense because everything that Amity wants in life, truly wants and not just what she claims to want or the career she desires, is embodied by Luz which is GOOD. While love can bloom from anything, writing a proper romance should feature the two finding something in the other that they desire in general. A shy character loving a rough and tough, scary person because that same brute also is always there, loyal, and solid as a rock so they never have to be afraid makes sense because stability and security is something that character is going to want. An energetic character who gets in trouble wanting someone who seems to always know what to do, can keep cool under pressure, and can bring them quiet makes sense because getting in trouble sucks and very few people want to be running at top speed at all times, especially without direction. Direction a partner could give them. This is part of the whole "Opposites attract" concept too because everyone wishes their weakest points were covered somehow and the one you love is supposed to always be there to support and help you so that seems like a natural adhesive to those problems.

Short version of the writing lesson: A good romance is based on a desire the character would have no matter what being fulfilled by another character who's general actions also just make them happy. Of course, these are all just my thoughts and opinions and I would love to hear what you all have to say.