#especially when she's upset or agitated

[cyberm4n]

You've now filled my head with nothing but Alastor and Lucifer brainrot. Any other sharing thoughts you have for them? (I cannot stop thinking about them, I quite literally thought about them sharing me during my entire 8hr retail shift yesterday)

alastor and lucifer sharing you pt 3!

pt1, pt2

this was highly requested, thank you all for the love <3 im tagging anyone who asked/was fine with it last time but now you can fill out this taglist form to ensure you're tagged for future posts!

tags: @lu-ferri12 @my-anime-garden @princessdreamss @polytheatrix @reaper-of-light-12 @ambi-squirrelly @hazelfoureyes @meggletoomanyfandoms @afernandez21

cw: angst ig?? idk reader is upset cause they keep fighting, general relationship issues for a moment, smut, reader gets eaten out, there's some light praise and condescension i think, alastor has a master kink, alastor discovers he LOVES eating pussy, there's like a weird sexual tension between alastor and lucifer for the majority of this if you squint, the ending is VERY suggestive

other: not 100% happy with formatting on this but i wrote majority of it on a 6 hour flight so like. you win some you lose some. not proofread that well, i kind of ramble at times too but it's fine. 2.1k word count and half of it is formatted in a headcanon cuase, again, lazy 6 hour writing. i also don't use the bolding and coloring that much cause it'd be a lot of work.

left the ending a little open, will probably do a poll tomorrow on if people want me to take this that direction.

■ okay so sex aside i would think outwardly everyone knows you're in a relationship with lucifer at the very least

■ but it's kept lowkey with the other part of the relationship

■ which both are fine with btw

■ lucifer loves pda so he's happy, alastor isn't a fan so it's whatever

■ the public part works out because alastor would genuinely be worried about someone trying to use you to get to him

■ it's bad enough that it's known the king of hell has a new partner, but nobody knowing that if they fuck with you they're fucking with the king of hell AND the radio demon is a silent advantage

■ if anyone knows, it's charlie. but only to the extent of like the fact it's a hinge relationship, everything else she doesn't know and honestly doesn't need to know

■ she's just happy her dad seems happy and is getting along better with alastor

■ i think alastor is the kind to really start caring during the relationship vs. lucifer caring about you deeply before

■ so occasionally alastor will pull you aside, or if no one is watching will just press a quick kiss on your forehead.

■ meanwhile lucifer is always making it known he's in love with you

■ arm around your shoulder, holding your hand, everything

■ again, alastor doesn't really mind unless lucifer decides to be an ass abt it

■ look they still compete with each other sometimes they can't help it

■ then it becomes a game of how much the other can get away with before you either get upset or it's too telling

■ that's the other thing is like, the competing gets really fucking annoying to you

■ we saw them in hells greatest dad it wasn't a want to be a better dad it's just wanting to out do the other

■ and when it transfers to your relationship it gets agitating fast

moving on

■ relationship side alastor isn't as involved with that

■ but if either of them did something that upset you or like there was a lovers quarrel between you and either side it's a big deal to them

■ especially if you're only upset with one half of the hinge

■ cause like, sure, they could compete with each other and purposefully drive you apart

■ but tbh.. both of them lowkey like this arrangement much more than they thought they would

■ so they end up talking to each other about it and figuring out what to do

■ same if you're upset with both

■ not that you're upset often it's just that when you are it's usually cause they crossed a line in their little competition

■ and they hate making their girl feel like a prize to be won :(

■ whatever their solution is, they do it together.

■ show you they can get along, that they both care about you enough

■ you're in your room, a bit of a blow up happened earlier after they got into one of their arguments

■ it's not that you genuinely think theyre using you to get to the other but sometimes with the way they act it's easy to doubt

■ anyways, they both come in, it's late

■ i cry when im frustrated/upset and i think it's a pretty normal reaction, so let's just say you're crying a little

■ they're both immediately at your side, apologizing profusely

■ you've never cried like this before

■ it scares them. alot.

■ for once there's absolutely no competition, the only worry is making you feel better.

■ both sitting next to you on the couch, lucifer murmuring how much he loves you, and how he knows how much alastor cares for you

■ i hate the whole "alastor doesn't understand emotions" thing because he does. he has to, he knows how to read people well.

■ it's just he hasn't ever comforted someone

■ he doesn't know what to do when someone he cares about is upset

■ so he's glad lucifer is here, as alastor just sits at your side nodding along and gently rubbing your back

■ alastor only tunes back in when lucifer offers to give some space for the night, and a little murmur from you agrees but asks they both come to bed that night

■ given its usually only lucifer who actually sleeps in the same bed as you alastor is surprised

■ but lucifer is beckoning him out for some space.

"cmon, we'll be back in an hour yeah?" he chimes from the door, and with a squeeze of your shoulder alastor is out of the door, but he opts to walk along with lucifer. "we gotta do better" lucifer sighs as he walks, not looking over at alastor. he's not accusing alastor, he seems equally disappointed in both of them.

"for her?" alastor adds, and lucifer gives a hum of agreement. "this while ordeal has been quite... stressful as of late, no?" alastor adds, "to our own faults, yes" lucifer murmurs, giving a sigh. alastor nods, and the two men walk in silence for some time, ending up in the parlor, husk far since gone to bed. "want anything?" lucifer pulls alastor back to reality once again, he's standing behind the bar while alastor had been staring off, his mind running with thoughtd of god knows what.

"whiskey, my friend?" alastor suggests, and giving it a considerate thought lucifer pours two glasses. the silence falls over them again, just the sound of the clink of their glasses on the counter.

"so tell me, how do you do it when you pleasure her?" alastor breaks the silence, lucifers eyes dart up to him. thinking for a moment before replying "i don't really think tonight is the time for that—" lucifer says, but in a gentle tone.

"no no, in the morning." alastor says, staring down at his glass. "you two indulge often in the morning, correct?" alastor says, now his eyes uncomfortably on lucifer. Watching as the other man almost pales a little, swallowing thickly.

lucifer immediately falters, giving a sigh. "look it's not— i‐ that's not her fault–" lucifer immediately starts, assuming this is a confrontation. his eyebrows raise as alastor shakes his head. "oh please, if i had problem with it i would have done something" he says, a static crackle echoing through the room. "no, i want to know how you do it when you... when it's just about her. how can i do the same?" alastor asks, and this is even more surprising to lucifer than this whole fucking idea in the first place.

■ so lucifer of course explains some stuff to him, of course it's hard because unless he's done it before it's hard to articulate some of his "moves"

■ i mean lucifer can hardly resist going down on you everytime, he's definitely experienced but it's hard to transfer that knowledge at times

■ but he's impressed alastor even asked

■ so when they return to your room, they're a lot more calmer with each other than before.

■ that night changed a lot between them tbh

■ it's slightly awkward for both of them when everyone gets settled in the bed

■ you're on your back, lucifer on your right side and alastor on the left.

■ they're both holding you to the best of their abilities

■ lucifer gives alastors hand a squeeze before shuffling it to have a better grasp on your waist

■ you all peacefully sleep through the night, not shifting much but it's pretty comfortable

■ is the morning you're mostly cuddled into alastor, which is entirely lucifers doing

■ when you're all awake though alastor gets arguably nervous

■ but you being you, you slump over onto alastors chest, murmuring some affection to him

■ lucifer gives a nod, it's time.

■ he'd honestly probably move to get out of bed, assuming some privacy is wanted

■ but he feels a shadow wrap around his forearm, it's a light pressure

■ alastor shakes his head, mouthing a small "please"

after lucifer processes for a moment what exactly is about to go down, he's okay with that. he settles back in, his eyes on the two of you as alastor tilts your chin up, pressing a kiss to your lips. "my dear, would you mind if i tried something a little different with you?" alastor chimes, and you blink your eyes open again, still a bit sleepy as you give a nod.

he gently maneuvers you on the bed so you're laying on your back, his hands pawing at your sleep shorts and pulling them to your ankles. lucifer watches, honestly a little mezmerized by the whole ordeal. he feels proud in an odd sort of way. “I think our little doe deserves a treat, would you like that?” alastor murmurs as he spreads your thighs open. You take a shaky breath before murmuring some form of agreement, maybe even a little plea.

without further prodigy, alastors finally leans down his tongue swiping down your folds, hands grasping your hips to pull you to his face. your hands go to hold lucifers, but he shakes his head tutting at you. “ah ah, that’s not very polite princess” he chides softly, guiding your hands to alastors hair.

and alastor makes good use of the tips and information lucifer gave him, his tongue plunging into your sweet little hole as his nose bumps your clit. his eyes wander up, making eye contact with you as he eats you out so wonderfully. you tug at his hair and he practically growls in pleasure, opting to change tactics and focus his mouth on your clit while his fingers slide inside you, gently curling into your sweet spot.

and lucifer watches it all, absolutely mesmerized. he doesnt know what it is about watching this but theres something about knowing alastor is doing exactly as told to in this scenario that makes lucifer feel warm. he lets alastor steal the show, doing only minimal work. maybe hes softly cooing praises or gently reminding you to show your appreciation to the one making you feel this good.

as you get close, evident by the murmur that falls past your lips, alastors eyes snap to lucifers for a moment, and he takes a moment to think before understanding. usually when youre close alastor is all over you, telling you to be such a good girl and cum, just slight praises and coaxing. given the fact hes face deep in your sweetness he cant really do that, so that job is up to lucifer now.

“isn’t alastor doing such a good job duckling? you want to make sure he knows how good hes treating you, dont you?” lucifer coos, scooting in behind you on the bed so you stop trying to writhe away. “I think he’d be so disappointed if you didnt cum for him, you think you can do that, hm? you wanna cum all over your masters tongue?” lucifer says directly in your ear, and alastor feels a bit of a warmth in his stomach by being referred to as “master”

when you give a weak moan in response lucifer sighs, shaking his head. “be a good girl now, you can do it little doe” he says which is what sends you toppling over the edge, your hips rutting up into alastors mouth, whiny moans coming from you as alastor desperately licks up your sweet release. this whole thing was quite enjoyable for alstor, but hearing lucifer call you “little doe” his petname for you made him smugly satisfied.

after some aftercare which mostly just involved more cuddling, alastor feels satiated enough to shift to leave, before getting a look from lucifer. he reluctantly stays, feeling as you come to lay at his side once more. lucifer seems to take note of something, giving alastor a nod down, he glances down, seeing the obvious tent in his pants. alastor looks back up, slightly annoyed. a like “yeah, no shit dumbass” kind of look is exchanged.

alastor looks back down at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you sigh happily. but alastor tenses as he feels a hand on his knee, shooting a glare to lucifer as he traces his hand up a little. the two meet as and alastor takes a shaky breath as lucifer leans in just a little, breathing out the next few words with a calmness alastor admires:

“just keep cuddling her”

[mentally-gone002]

i’m right here…

summary: spencer is really upset about a decision you made in the field.

warnings: angstyyy!!

a/n: here i am with another spencer x reader💃 also i was actually on the cusp of death(sleep) while proofing this one so… if there’s anything i missed that’s mb lmaooo (yo girls tired af) also!!! this isn’t supposed to be within any specific season or anything it’s kinda just out there!!

———————————————————————

the door of spencer’s apartment was slammed behind you. he sounded angry the from way he did it, rightfully so, but you’ve never seen him this angry. you didn’t get the chance to fully react before he was grabbing your wrist to pull you away to his bathroom. he gestured for you to sit on the vanity counter. 

you stayed quiet. spencer’s face was contorted with pinched brows, clenched teeth and narrowed eyes as he seethed silently, reaching to carefully peel a piece of lightly blood soaked bandage from your forehead. he tossed it into the garbage can and started to clean the blood from your head. 

you’d gotten injured in the field hours earlier. you’d gone after the unsub the team was after because you thought you could detain her. of course, that plan of yours failed, ending with your forehead falling victim to the back of the gun the woman had. luckily morgan was there to detain her before she took a shot at you on the ground. 

spencer had been silent towards you ever since he heard of how you disobeyed direct orders from hotch. 

it was strange to not hear him talk for this long. it was going on five hours. five hours too long in your opinion. 

as he finished replacing your bandage you spoke up. “i’m sorry.” was all you said. it would probably be useless because all the other attempts to make him talk to you were just filled with more silence and maybe a disappointed look. he sighed heavily though as he looked away. 

“i don’t understand why you couldn’t just listen to hotch.” his brown eyes bore into yours when he said that. 

you shrugged. “i though i could catch her.” 

spencer got visibly more upset than he was before in a second. “you though you could catch her?” he asked. “she pointed a gun at your head.” his voice grew slightly louder.

you swallowed thickly and hunched down at the volume. “i didn’t get killed.” you muttered. 

he scoffed, stepping away from where you sat on the vanity in amusement. his jaw was clenched hard. “that isn’t the point here. you disobeyed an order and put yourself in danger.”

your head snapped toward him. “you think i don’t know that? this job, it makes us all put ourselves in danger!” your voice rose slightly. 

spencer clenched his fists at his side and breathed. “so that just gives you the right to rush into danger the second you want?” he wondered. 

you slid off the vanity to stand against it instead. “if that means that we get the bad guys, then yes!” 

his anger spiked, eyes widening and chest puffing out due to a heavy intake of air. “but you can’t just go off on your own whenever you want! especially when our unsub was as erratic as she was!” he explained with his hands waving in the air as a way of adding some emphases. 

“i wasn’t on my own, reid! morgan was right there!” you reminded him, stepping close as he stepped back, almost bumping the wall behind him. spencer seemed to be getting more agitated by the minute, especially when you called him by his last name.

“oh, okay! so since morgan was there i guess this is okay?” he asked. 

you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “no. but he didn’t listen to hotch either, so don’t put this all on me!” 

“morgan isn’t here right now, so we aren’t talking about what he did,” spencer told you, “we’re talking about what you did!” he snapped, index finger pointed at your chest. 

you sighed heavily with a pang of guilt that intensified. it had been there since the case had ended. “why are you making this such a big deal? i already know that i was stupid to do what i did, i apologized to hotch, i apologized to you more than once, and i know that i risked my life. drop it.” you walked out of the bathroom into spencer’s dark apartment. 

he followed on your heels, not finished with the conversation yet. “drop it?” he repeated with sarcasm. you didn’t know he knew how to use sarcasm but there it was. “i’m not going to drop this!” 

“well you should!” you spun on your heels with your voice louder than you meant it to go. 

spencer stopped in his tracks with evident perplexity. “why? are you telling me to not be worried about you?” he asked. 

you nodded. “that’s exactly what i’m telling you, spencer! i’m safe and standing in front of you right now!” you stepped closer to him, craning your neck to look up at him. “i really expected you to act differently after this case. i thought you’d come up to me and help me or maybe hug me and say something along the lines of ‘im glad you’re alright’ but i guess not because all i got was the silent treatment.” you kept staring at his eyes. 

he looked stunned and not angry for the first time this evening. “of course i’m glad you’re alright!” she snapped. “i’m glad you’re standing here right now, but it’s only because of dumb luck!” 

you rolled your eyes. how was the this dense  and also a genius at the same time? “no, it’s because i’m trained for this job and back there… that was me using my training. so i’m sorry i was doing exactly what i’m employed to do!” you shouted. 

spencer shouted back, “so to you, doing your job means that you get to not follow orders?” he asked with heavy breaths. “do you realize how risky that is?” 

“yes, i do.” you nodded, rubbing your eyes in exhaustion. “but im safe, and the monsters are in jail. that’s all that matters.” 

“what about me?” he asked. 

you crossed your arms. “what about you?” you wondered. 

“you really don’t know what it’s like to see someone you really care about after they’ve almost died.” spencer stepped closer and his voice got quiet. 

you frowned and tilted your head to the side to keep your eyes on his. he looked away at the floor. “i don’t doubt it was scary, but i’m here, spencer.” you smiled softly at him. “i’m right here.” 

he let his eyes meet yours again. the inside of his cheek was held between his teeth as he contemplated what to do next. he knew he was being too hard on you but he just didn’t want to loose you. instead of opening his mouth to say something else he stepped forward and wound his arms around you, holding you against him in a tight embrace. his face hid away in the crook of your neck. your arms didn’t go around his back in a returning embrace immediately, still on alert for the fight to continue. but it didn’t. he breathed shakily before whispering, “don’t ever do that again.” his voice was low and slightly muffled by your shoulder. 

“okay… okay, i won’t.” you rubbed your hands over the expanse of his back in a comforting motion. 

you stood there in each others arms for a few minutes, just relishing in the feeling of being held. it was also a silent apology from both of you, a reassuring apology. 

“you promise?” he asked. 

you nodded, closing your eyes. “i promise.” you muttered. “just don’t yell at me again.” you told him while pulling away just enough to see him. your hands rested on his waist. 

spencer nodded as he took your hands into his own, letting them hang between you both. his eyes were on the floor. “i’m sorry… i was just… still on edge from the case. i can’t stand the thought of loosing you.” he whispered. 

you craned your neck in a direction so that you’d find spencer’s eyes. “you won’t loose me.” you assured him, squeezing his hands. “and i won’t do that again okay? it hurt enough as it is.” you gestured to your head a little. 

he nodded as relief washed over his worried mind. he squeezed your hands a little before dropping them and wrapping his arms around your frame again. he breathed you in a few times, just to really be sure you were there. safe in his arms. safe in his apartment. 

“it’s late… or early.” you pulled away slowly from him. spencer nodded with a quick brush of your hair behind your ear. 

he glanced at his watch. “yeah. it’s been a long day and you need all the rest you can get.” he told you. 

you nodded. “will sleeping make my gash heal faster?” your hand was in his as you lead him to his bedroom. 

spencer nodded. “actually yes, getting good amounts of sleep can assure your hormones will rebuild that broken tissue because cortisol levels lower while your asleep.” he replied, rambling with information that made you smile. 

“okay, boy genius,” he pulled a face at the same carried on by the whole BAU team, “let’s get to sleep then.” 

he nodded and followed you with getting changed out of your clothes and climbing into his bed with the comforter pulled up to her nose. he grinned at you while he laid in front of you, hand searching to hold yours under the covers. 

you pulled spencer’s hand to your lips. “night, doctor reid.” you murmured, tiredly teasing him.

he smiled at that and closed his eyes. “good night.”

[lucysarah-c]

Transactional

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

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

‘Should I?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Captain Levi just checked your ass.”

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

“You must have imagined it,” she said.

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

“But… Captain Levi is?”

“Short?”

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

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

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

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

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

“A recommendation from someone important.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘But what if he does?’

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

‘What if he tells someone?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sorry?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can help with that,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He chuckled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finally, he nodded. "Very well."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"A drink?" he offered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s Captain Levi, for you,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, sir.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘As if this wasn’t what you wanted.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He chuckled softly, his gaze returning to the ceiling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Squad leader: Y/N L/N’

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

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

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

[hvnlygrl]

jj and his gf who has really bad sensory problems, especially at night when they're going to sleep her shirt always bothers her and she gets so fusturated but jj always knows what to do for her

or with loud noises!!! i feel like he'd be the type to practically whisper you to sleep at night because he knows sometimes all the noise is just way too overwhelming

it’s all too much (can’t get enough).

pairing — jj maybank x fem!reader

word count — 1.7k

warnings — overstimulated reader, reader has a panic attack, fluff, super comforting jj, talk of diagnoses and doctors, mentions of throw-up. hurt/comfort.

synopsis — when everything gets to be too much for you, jj becomes the only thing you can stand, and the one thing you crave more than anything.

notes — this is such a wonderful request as someone who struggles with this on a regular basis and relies on my own bf to calm me down and be my peace and my center to ground myself. i love this sm! i hope you enjoy <3

you weren’t sure when it started; the constant overwhelming feelings that consumed nearly every waking moment you had throughout the day. one doctor said it was normal for a girl your age, especially given the things you’d been through, another said that it was due to an anxiety disorder, and one (though you knew this one was totally full of shit) tried to blame it on obsessive compulsive disorder with a hint of autism. 

you had no clue when it got this bad, but you knew that it was reaching the point of becoming unbearable. being in crowds, or anywhere where the background noise was louder than the noise in your mind, made you feel like you needed to puke. clothes that were too tight or too loose, too coarse or too soft, too thick or too thin, drove you nearly to the brink of insanity. it was, as you described it, as if you were completely uncomfortable in your own body at all times. 

hearing people hum, sing, tap, or breathe drove you up a wall, and that was on your best day. it was the thing you hated most about yourself, honestly. you hated that you were so easily agitated, and that you couldn’t help the outbursts that came with it. 

throughout your school years, as it worsened, you lost friends one by one, until all that was left were the pogues and your boyfriend, jj. not like you needed anything more than them, but still.

you had no idea how jj could put up with you being this way, especially for so long, but you were extremely grateful for him. part of you, deep down inside your heart, was petrified that one day he would have enough and realize that he could do so much better, but for now you were willing to bask in each and every moment you got to have with him. 

jj, however, felt the same way about you; he was terrified that you’d wake up one day and realize how broken he was and how unfixable his soul would forever be. 

you were both idiots, admittedly, because each and every one of the pogues could tell just from the way that you looked at each other in docile moments that there was absolutely nothing either of you would take in place of the other. 

since your relationship started with jj, your anxiety got significantly better, with fewer outbursts and a generally happier state of being becoming your new normal. he grounded you to reality, kept you sane and helped you accept yourself for what you truly were. with jj, you never had to hide anything, never had to mask any emotions or thoughts (no matter how dark or upsetting they may be). you knew he would never judge you for anything you felt or thought, having dealt with his own fair share of breakdowns during his time alive. 

when you were crying to the point of hyperventilating over your crop top shirt being too constricting, he would give you his flannel to change into. when your shoes became too tight around your toes, he would pull your favorite slippers from his bag. when your food was too slimy or too crunchy, he’d swap dishes with you. anything to keep you happy, and anything to let you have as close to a normal experience as possible. 

jj was a saint, truly. everything he did, he did through his love for you, never once questioning whatever was bothering you, simply just finding the best fix or alternative to calm you back down. it was beautiful. 

however, as much as jj could do, he couldn’t always fix the problem. some things were still too far beyond anything he could ever understand, and in those cases, he would just hold you, doing his best to keep you contained and feeling as safe and comforted as possible. 

panic attacks were nothing new to you, a weekly occurrence since you were a small child. they stemmed from severe ptsd from your childhood, you knew that. that knowledge felt like it should be enough to be able to push through them when they happened, but it never was. 

a sharp pain in your chest, your internal temperature reaching record-breaking highs, your head spinning and full of loud disturbing thoughts, your breathing becoming erratic and your body trembling. you felt like you were going to puke and pass out all at the same time. 

the first time it happened around jj, he thought he was going to have to bring you to the hospital or call an ambulance. 

the two of you had gotten into a slight, meaningless disagreement over something completely irrelevant. he got a little too loud and before you knew it you had a hand clutching your heart, panting like a dog at the park as you backed as far into the nearest corner as you could. the walls shifted around you, inching closer and closer with every rapid breath you took. you tried to take deeper breaths, attempting to slow your heart before it exploded in your chest, but you couldn’t. you began crying, eyes wide with a thousand yard stare, seeing everything and nothing all at once. 

jj watched you for a moment, in terror as he panicked, completely unaware of what was happening or what he should or could do about it. “y/n? what’s happening, baby?” 

“i-i-” you struggled to catch a breath that would reach your lungs, “i can’t-”

“are you-what do i do?” he moves toward you, hands extended out warily, “what can i do, baby?”

you turned your head up toward the sky as you slid down the wall until you reached the floor. your eyes were pinched shut, as tight as you could get them, as if that would be enough to throw you back to reality. your arms wrapped around your knees tightly, one hand gripping the other as they wrung themselves together. “water,” it was a whisper, your vision full of black spots when you opened your eyes. this one was particularly bad for some reason, bringing you to the verge of passing out. “please.”

“water,” jj repeats, immediately jumping at the opportunity to help you, “uh, uh,” he searches frantically for a cup from the cabinet, realizing that all of the cups are dirty in the dishwasher, “shit!” he goes to wash one before remembering that you had put a few bottles to cool in the fridge when you’d gotten home earlier that day. “stupid,” he cusses at himself as he sprints to the fridge, rummaging through it until he finds one, perfectly chilled just for you. 

he returns, finding you taking deep breaths while humming to yourself softly. it’s rhythmic, though a song he’s never heard before. it’s the song your dad hummed to you when you had the same attacks as a child, he’d hold you, placing a cold washcloth on the back of your neck as he hummed, telling you to rub at the inside of your palms softly to the rhythm. it was an old trick his own mother had done for him when he was a child, and it worked like a charm for you most of the time. 

jj returns with the water, moving slower when he approached you, “i got your water, baby,” he speaks softly, his voice tender yet still slightly panicked. “can i get you anything else? do you want a hug or-”

“can you get me a washcloth, please?” 

he nods and immediately moves toward the bathroom. 

“wet it with cold water,” you call out to him, just loud enough for him to hear it. 

jj follows the instructions, wringing it out in the sink before bringing it back to you. he sits on the floor next to you, mimicking your pose as he watches you intently. 

you take a sip from the bottle before you drop your forehead to rest on the tops of your knees, the washcloth resting on the back of your neck. you continue taking deep breaths as you hum the tune once more, drawing shapes and massaging the insides of your palms. 

after a few minutes, your breathing returns back to normal, your heart rate dropping back to an acceptable rate again. once you feel alright, you turn to look at jj, his concerned blue eyes tugging at your heart. 

“are you okay? did i do something? i’m so sorry-”

“it was a panic attack,” your voice is soft, filled with shame as your gaze flutters between his eyes and his necklace. “i get them a lot. sorry you had to deal with that.” 

“no, no don’t be sorry,” he places a ringed hand on your shoulder, “that wasn’t your fault, baby, don’t be ashamed of that. i’m just glad i could help you. i know what to do for next time, don’t even worry about it, okay? i was just really worried about you.” 

“i know, i’m okay now though,” you nod, your heart warming at his words, “thanks for taking care of me.” 

“of course, y/n,” he scoots closer to you, letting you rest your head against his shoulder, “you’re my girl, i’ll always be here to take care of you, babe.” 

you smile, though he can't see it, “i love you, jj.” 

“i love you, y/n,” he repeats, placing a tender kiss to the top of your head. “anything else i can do for you?”

“i could use a nap,” you huff softly, “that took a lot out of me.” 

“yea, i’m sure it did,” he affirms, “let’s go take a nap then.”��

jj helps you up from the floor, an arm slung over your shoulders as you both make your way down the hallway and into the bedroom. he pulls back the covers for you, turns the fan on, and the lights off. he even brings your water that you forgot to grab from the living room and places it on your nightstand. 

jj slides into the bed beside you, allowing you to get comfortable on his chest as he lies on his back. he rubs a hand on your back, humming the tune you sung earlier softly, putting you right to sleep. he silently prays that you’ll rest as much as you deserve, and that for as long as you’ll have him, he’ll be able to help you more than he could today. he also vows to never be the reason you feel like that again if he can help it. 

-> back to masterlist

taglist — @rubiehart @ji4ra4l1f3 @baebankz @sarahsangelicdoll

[ooooo-mcyt]

People love making Scott and Pearl's relationship so black and white and it's frustrating because they're so complicated and I'm insane about it.

I feel like a lot of people love to paint Double Life specifically as Scott just cruelly and selfishly hurting Pearl while Pearl just cried about it or something.

Scott was cruel to Pearl in Double Life, this is an undeniable fact in my opinion. He was very cold toward her and majorly contributed to the isolation Pearl experienced during the season, which impacted her mental state horribly. Nor did he feel any real remorse for it. Pearl can't be faulted for feeling angry and hurt when the one person who was supposed to be on her side made her feel like she wasn't even worth knowing.

But Pearl was also cruel to Scott. Yes, Scott "started it", but I find that to be a fairly childish way of looking at interpersonal conflict. Pearl was openly and repeatedly aggressive and pushy with Scott throughout Double Life in a way that caused him immense stress. She agitated the conflict between them and made it worse. She did all of this purposefully. And I feel like it just makes her character weaker when people defang her and paint her as this sad little puppy or something.

Not to mention how Scott's personal agency seems to be devalued in a lot of discussions regarding Double Life- yes, Pearl had a right to feel upset, hurt, angry, etc, but no, she was not entitled to be Scott's partner or to take his final life at the end of the season, and I find it unsettling when Scott rejecting her or choosing to take his own life are painted as selfish and malicious decisions Scott made to take away Pearl's agency when neither who he partners with nor how he dies are things anyone should have "agency" over other than Scott himself.

Their relationship is just deeply complicated. They both hurt each other and they both have reasons to feel bitter after the fact, but people love making Scott seem uniquely selfish, and they love making Pearl seem like a kicked puppy, and this significantly weakens their arc for me. Especially when we then get into Wild Life and we have their arc regarded as them "healing", which feels deeply simplistic all things considered.

[therandompagesblog]

SKZ Mate Chapter 24

Trigger warnings: Angst, murder, blood, assault, violence, *bring tissues*

A week went by and Y/N didn't speak to Chan. A week went by and Chan had left to meet his friend. A week went by and Hyunjin and Y/N worked on options to use their dark aura to stop Ateez. A week went by and the wolves were divided. Seungmin and Felix sided with Y/N believing her experience of living there would help them solve this problem, but the rest of them chose Minho, the annoying ridiculous beta who acted like the head alpha. It pissed her off the way he was taking charge. She couldn't stand to stay in the same room as him, despite Jisung trying to comfort and reason with her. Jisung did see Y/N's side, but it was Minho's stubbornness and his politics that made him difficult to challenge. Minho was an elder wolf. Now what that means was he was above all wolves. He was the law of that council. Minho had spent years training at the werewolf sanctuary to become an elder. He spent years learning the skills and crafts of one. Minho had the power to connect with his ancestors and others. That is why Minho had high self-esteem and confidence. His biggest weakness is not being an alpha but his rapport with the werewolf community gave him that power, so when someone disrespected him, he became agitated, especially when someone he cared about disrespected him.

Y/N and Minho had been clashing all week. It started with ignoring him and purposely leaving the room when he was there. Then it escalated when Jisung said she was being mean causing him to get shouted at, which lead to Minho trying to discipline her but the same remark of 'you're not a fucking alpha's came out. Chan had even alpha commanded her to apologise which led to her ignoring him. But today the omega had high opinions as she stood there in the living room arguing with Jeongin while Changbin and Jisung sat there behind pillows with a mixed look. Changbin was shitting himself in fear but his fear resulted in him laughing while Jisung was amused. Jisung was curious to see how the new alpha would handle the situation and he was handling it quite well. Jeongin stood there with a stoic face watching the omega shout profanities at him, knowing the beta was next door listening. None of them knew what was going on anymore but all they knew was she was upset but her words were becoming spiteful. "So what he's a fucking elder. He should know how to listen to people and understand all options." Y/N yelled at the alpha. "Y/N. Listen to me." Jeongin called out in a commanding tone. He was getting frustrated. He understood her anger and fear. He understood her projection was coming from her inner trauma and he allowed her to express that but insulting the other wolves he wasn't going to tolerate it, especially a wolf who worked day and night to save her, the least she could do was be grateful. Jeongin tried to reason with her, but she wasn't having it and he could feel his anger start to bubble inside of him. "Y/N. If you-" "Like you know anything. You're just a baby alpha who thinks-" "Go. Upstairs. Now. I don't want to hear your pathetic little whines." Jeongin alpha ordered, his eyes glowing red as he looked at her. His actions caused her to shudder. His words bled deep into her veins, forcing her up the stairs. On the way she saw Minho sat on the floor in the kitchen crying. His body jolted with every breath as he tried to stifle his cries. What have I done? "Y/N!" Jeongin shouted causing her to run up the stairs and straight into her room, her eyes glowing blue as she tried to calm herself down. I made him cry. It was all falling apart left right and center. Minho was a sobbing mess in the kitchen as he heard her hurtful words. They cut him deeper than he expected. He was listening to her. He had spent hours pleading with the council. He even disrespected another alpha on the council for her. Minho didn't understand why it wasn't enough for her, he felt sick. Jeongin was livid and kicked the back door open so he could phase. He hated the power it gave when he ordered her. He felt like a monster. 

While all this was going on, Chan had met up with his friend Jaebeom who helped him before when things went bad. Chan wanted to create a plan with him so he went to meet him in the woods, but something was wrong. The more Chan walked deeper into the woods to meet Jaebeom, the more he felt something was off. Chan felt incredibly uncertain about stepping on this side of the woods. He knew Jaebeom but he hadn't actually spoken to him since he was seventeen. "I'm surprised you came alone. You're not a smart alpha, are you? Christopher." A dark voice stood behind him, taunting him. The male laughed at him, well, more like cackled at the alpha like a madman. "Hongjoong," Chan whispered. His heart dropped as he heard the voice. "Come on Chan, let's talk like alphas." Hongjoong taunted. Chan slowly turned around to see Hongjoong standing there with his arms crossed with three other wolves. An alpha, a beta and an omega. He guessed the alpha was Wooyoung, but the other beta he wasn't sure of. He didn't recognise this beta, nor the omega. Chan couldn't believe Hongjoong brought an omega with him. Did he expect the omega to fight? Chan couldn't fight an omega. No, he couldn't. Y/N adored those omegas. They set her free. They helped her escape. He couldn't take one of them out.

Hongjoong watched Chan's eyes study his wolves. He was calculating them. "Come on Christopher. There's no point in sniffing my boys out. I can introduce you if you'd like. This is Wooyoung, Mingi and Jongho. Seonghwa is hiding in the woods somewhere so if you run, he will attack." Hongjoong laughed. "What do you want Hongjoong," Chan asked, his eyes glowing red. "To kill you, obviously. " Hongjoong stated. "Did you really think that I would let you win after everything you have done to my pack? You had me exiled. You stole my alpha. Then you stole my omega and then had my beta killed. I had to let you think you had a chance with those council members. I will say your Minho made a great case against me. Trying to use maleficium against me. He's a smart wolf but not smart enough to realise my father is on that council too. How humiliating. I hope he's not too gutted about it." "She is not your omega. She never was." Chan growled stepping forward. "No, she wasn't." Hongjoong stepped forward, "but Joshua helped me get her." "What?! You're lying." Chan growled as he looked at the mad werewolf who laughed. Hongjoong in the midst of laughing signalled Mingi to attack.

Mingi was quick on his feet and grabbed Chan who took the blow, but he was quick on his feet. Chan managed to disarm him for a brief second but lost when Jongho phased and scratched the back of Chan bringing him down. Chan could smell the fear of the omega who didn't want to appear in the fight but acted on command. Chan pushed the omega off of him when Mingi shifted and pinned Chan down in his human form, biting in his shoulder, ready to rip his arm off when Chan phased into his grey wolf. He allowed his wolf to take over as he attacked Mingi, biting and snarling at him. Jongho pounced and dug his teeth into the grey wolf's tale, almost snapping it off, but he stopped. The blood of Chan fell out of his mouth and he panicked, but the shouts of his alpha forced him to fight and destroy. Chan managed to break free from Mingi and shoved Jongho into the tree, before heading towards Mingi. Chan got hold of his back leg and ripped it off carelessly. Chan didn't care. He needed to get back home to his omega.

As soon as he made the mistake of thinking about her, he felt a white-hot pain pierce through his leg. Wooyoung had phased and tackled the head alpha, dragging him by his tail before shoving him into the tree. Chan whimpered but tried to get back up but the two wolves attacked him. Chan managed to lock his jaw onto the beta's neck to snap his neck. Killing him. Wooyoung raged in anger at the death of his pack mate and charged forward snarling in rage as he tried to get the omega to help him, but Jongho couldn't get up. The omega was petrified. Chan used this against Wooyoung and pounced on him, biting into his leg and dragging the wolf harshly. Wooyoung tried to call out to Hongjoong but the alpha stood there in frustration as he watched Chan destroy them one by one. "Alright. Stop this." Hongjoong yelled. He needed Wooyoung. "I won't kill you. Go to that fucking whore. You can have. She's been used quite well, but I will say this, don't trust Hyunjin near her. Hyunjin is obsessed with her."

Chan didn't care but took his chance to retreat running as fast as he could back home. Chan didn't care about the pain in his body or the blood, he wanted to go home. He wanted his pack. He wanted her. Nothing else mattered, but Chan was struggling to continue. His vision was starting to blur as he ran, occasionally stumbling over. Chan got up again and kept pushing himself until he could reach his home or at least the clear, but he couldn't, his legs caved out and he fell to the ground, crying. He couldn't make it back. He couldn't go on any longer. I'm sorry Y/N.

Taglist for the iconic readers:

@galaxy4489 @mbioooo0000 @jisungs-iced-americano @maybeimmia @hwangrfrnd@wolfo2027 @kayleefriedchicken @leamueller920 @borahae-reads @jennibahng @cookiesandcreammy @leezanetheofficial @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @jc003 @hpnsfwaddict @linocz @itzreetal987 @skzdreamer13 @reallychaoticwoo @liv1sworld @upsidedownchaire @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @jc003 @hpnsfwaddict @skzdreamer13 @reallychaoticwoo @ihttinniee @kingdomofpentagon @pixie0627 @tsunderelino @notevenheretbh1 @catlove83 @h0rnyp0t @hash2013 @hyunmikim

[band--psycho]

Harvey Specter x Reader - Fight (Part 2)

Just want to say a huge thank you to everyone who read Part 1 of this story!

Please be kind, reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated!

Thank you all for the continued support! I hope you all enjoy this! 💛

Requests are open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over.

I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms!

Masterlist / Harvey Specter Masterlist / Join My Taglist

Y/n was angry. 

Angry and hurt. 

She clenched and unclenched her fists continuously for a few moments when she was finally out of the building; Harvey’s words still replaying through her mind.

She knew Harvey was going through a stressful time; but what right did that give him to say those things to her? 

Especially when Harvey himself was the very reason that she didn’t work at his firm…

She stood there outside the office, in the middle of the night, the chill in the air cooling down her heated cheeks, as she tried to work out where she could go. 

Home? 

Back into the office to confront him about what he’d said?

Neither of those options seemed like a good idea right now, not whilst she was this angry. 

Although she was angry and had every right to be, she still loved Harvey, that didn’t just stop because of what he’d said….but returning to his office now after what’d just happened just seemed like a bad idea. 

It wouldn’t help anyone, it would probably just make both hers and Harveys anger’s spiral into another argument. 

No, she needed an outlet for the rage she was feeling. 

Part of her just wanted to go home, have a shower and go straight to bed and try to forget the words that were said.

But she knew sleep would not come easily to her, it rarely did after an argument with anyone, let alone Harvey. 

And his words would just continue to race around in her mind fuelling her own anger. 

She needed a distraction. 

An outlet for her anger.

That’s why she went to the gym. 

The gym wasn’t somewhere Y/n went often, after work she was normally too tired to go or her and Harvey would have plans, so the gym was never a top priority. 

She’d gone with Harvey on the odd occasion when she needed to let off some steam during or after a case; but never on her own. 

But she knew that Harvey probably wasn’t going to be coming out of his office any time soon, so that meant that she’d at least get some time to expel the anger inside of her, uninterrupted.

So she called a cab. 

The cab took her to her and Harvey’s shared apartment first, allowing Y/n the time to quickly change and to dump her work stuff on the sofa, before heading back to the cab and going straight to the gym. 

~~~~~~~~

Harvey was pissed off, more at himself than anyone else.

He hated seeing her hurt, and he certainly hated being the reason why she was hurt. 

He’d allowed his arrogance, rage, stress and exhaustion to blend together and cloud his mind. 

He knew he’d upset pretty much everyone over the course of this case, the one person he hadn’t, was Y/n, and now he’d alienated her as well. 

He knew she’d be angry, and she should be; in all honestly he was surprised she didn’t slap him for what he said.

He deserved it. 

He wanted to call her, he’d got as far as picking up his phone and having his thumb hover over the green call button next to her name. 

He wanted to apologize for what he’d said and how he’d been acting for the past few weeks. 

But an apology was just words; they weren’t going to heal the wound he knew his words had made. 

He knew she’d need some space and some time, so that’s what he was going to give her. 

He sat in his office for a while, trying to figure out what to do with the rest of his evening. 

He assumed she’d be at home so didn’t want to disturb her.

He contemplated calling his client and telling him to find another lawyer, but that could wait until morning. 

What Harvey needed was to calm down, not get more agitated; and he knew calling his client would make him more agitated instead of calm. 

Everyone else at the firm that he’d pissed off would be asleep by now and as much as he was sure they’d answer him if he called, he didn’t want to talk to them, not right now. 

Unfortunately he’d just alienated the only person that he did want to talk to. 

A long sigh left his lips as he rose to his feet, quickly putting on his suit jacket before heading towards the lift.

He didn’t know where he was going. 

All he did know was that he just needed to get out of the office; even if it was just for a short while; then he’d come back, and try to get some sleep before dropping his asshole of a client. 

~~~~~~

Y/n had her music blasting through her over the ear headphones at the highest possible volume she could have. 

It blocked out the noise from the few other people that were in the gym and allowed her to be completely focused on hitting the punching bag in front of her as many times as she physically could, in time to the beat of her music. 

She’d forgotten how good it felt to get her anger out like this, so often she just let it fester away inside of her until she broke down in tears from it. 

Her mind kept wandering to Harvey, no matter how many times she pushed the thought of him away he kept appearing in her mind. 

After five more intense minutes of punching the still bag before her; she stopped, feeling the exhaustion from releasing her anger slowly creeping in. 

As she sat down on the bench beside her to drink some water, she took her headphones out and allowed her eyes to drift to the clock hanging in the center of the gym. 

It was 1:30am.

She needed to go to bed soon, she knew she did, she could feel how drained not only her body was but her mind also. 

But despite her physical and mental fatigue, the words Harvey had spoken earlier in the evening were still running rampant in her mind, fuelling her anger.

A sigh fell from her lips as she rose to her feet, and went back to the punching bag she’d been standing at for the last hour.

The silence that surrounded her would normally be something that she hated, that’s why she’d been listening to her music so loudly, in an attempt to drown out the world around her and the words echoing in her mind; but hadn’t seemed to work, so she thought she’d try something different and embrace the silence around her. 

She thought about Harvey words; and with every thought she punched the bag in front of her, over and over again. 

She was focused in her own world, that she hadn’t realized she was no longer alone. 

That was until she heard a voice come from behind her saying, “Should I ask who’s face your imagining on that bag?”

The voice made her freeze on the spot and grit her teeth as she attempted to catch her breath. 

Harvey. 

Harvey was here. 

For a split second she contemplated turning around and using him as the punching bag instead, but she knew that would be wrong. 

And she didn’t want to hurt Harvey, no matter how much he’d hurt her with his words.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, her voice clearly displaying her anger and hurt.

“I didn’t know you were here,” Harvey explained honestly and calmly; his voice was a lot softer than when she’d last spoken to him. 

“I’m going to drop the client,” he continued, taking a step closer towards her but also being very aware that she probably didn’t want him too close to her right now, “You were right, I shouldn’t have been snapping at anyone, least of all you, I know you were only trying to help.”

Y/n didn’t say anything for a short while, allowing his words to sink in; she was happy he was dropping his client, it was about time. 

But it didn’t fix what had happened.

And neither did Harvey admitting that he was wrong, or realising that she was only trying to help. 

It didn’t erase what he’d said; nor the pain that it caused her. 

She was a good lawyer, a very good lawyer, and she could’ve gotten a job at his Pearson Hardman, Jessica Pearson had said so herself.

But there was just one problem.

The fact that Y/n was dating Harvey. 

That was why she couldn’t be hired there. 

And Harvey knew that. 

And although he’d offered to argue it with Jessica, Y/n didn’t want that. 

“What I said, about me being a better lawyer than you…I didn’t meant it…I was just…”

His words trailed off as his eyes met Y/ns as she slowly turned her head to look at him. 

“Angry?” She finished coldly, taking her gloves off and throwing them on the bench to her side. 

“You had no right to throw that in my face,” 

Harvey hadn’t thought he could feel anymore remorse and guilt for what he’d said, but then he saw the pain that was still lingering in her eyes and heard the way her voice broke towards the end of her sentence from the tears she was trying to hold back.

He wanted to reach out to her. 

To hold her.

To comfort her. 

In an ideal world, he’d have a Time Machine and he’d take those words back, but that couldn’t happen. 

“Y/n, I am sorry,” he apologised, tentatively taking another step closer to her, “It doesn’t excuse what I said, and I don’t expect you to just suddenly be okay, but I am sorry.”

She watched him, ready to pull away from any attempt of comfort he tried to give her, but thankfully Harvey didn’t come any closer to her, allowing her her space. 

She fought with herself mentally about what to say to him, or whether the best course of action was to just remain silent. 

He was her boyfriend; and she knew how much stress he’d been under. But that didn’t mean that his actions to her and everyone else in the office was acceptable.

He’d been a dick. 

And she couldn’t just forgive him like what he’d said was something small.

It was an attack on her career. 

On the job she’d worked so hard for. 

And he was going to have to do a lot more than just apologise for what he’d said.

That being said….despite all her fury towards him, she still loved him. 

Y/n took a deep breath, calming her beating heart down a little.

“I appreciate your apology, Harvey,” and she did, she knew saying ‘sorry’ wasn’t something Harvey did often so the fact that he was doing it meant a lot to her, “but it doesn’t mean I forgive you,”

“I know,” he acknowledged, trying to hide how heartbroken he was, his mind instantly going to the worst case scenario. 

That they were over. 

“I can stay at the office tonight, and start moving some of my things out during the day whilst you’re at work,” Harvey explained simply, making sure that he didn’t let any emotion show in his voice. 

This was his fault.

He knew that. 

He’d hurt her with what he’d said and it wasn’t okay. 

“What?” Y/n questioned, confusion clear in her voice.

It wasn’t until a few more moments had passed that she’d realised what he was talking about.

“Harvey I’m not breaking up with you,” she stated, taking a few steps towards him, tentatively reaching out to take ahold of his hand. 

“I love you; and yes what you said hurt me and it’ll take time for me to move on from it, but I’m not going to leave you because of it.”

She knew it was because he was stressed and overworked; there wasn’t a person in the world who hadn’t snapped at someone close to them when they were completely exhausted, and although she was still hurt; she also knew that people made mistakes.

And that even Harvey Specter wasn’t perfect.

Relief washed over Harvey as her words sunk in, he’d been so used to people leaving, that he couldn’t help but think that that’s what she was going to do. 

“I love you too,” he said, squeezing her hand softly as his eyes met hers once again, “I really am sorry, baby,” 

“I know,” she replied softly, “and I’ll move on from it, I just need some time,”

“Okay,” he nodded; he’d give her anything she wanted if it meant he didn’t lose her. 

“I think we should go home,” Y/n said, looking at the clock just above Harvey's head; it was close to 2am and she knew that they both needed to sleep. 

‘We should go home’ those words were enough to ease Harvey’s anxious heart. 

“Sounds like a good idea,” he smiled sleepily, and with that the two of them left the gym, their hands intertwined in one anothers. 

Harvey couldn’t believe how lucky he was to not have lost her because of his behaviour; most people wouldn’t give him a second chance, but Y/n did. 

And he wasn’t going to waste it. 

Taglist:

@enjoymyloves @furiouscopshepherduniversity @laurzwrites @rosedpetal @nilly-021 @gublerstylesobrien1238 @reidmymind00 @pear-1206 @beatricee24 @shit-lips @bluebreadenthusiast @little-diable @wild-rose-35 @withmyteeth @theestorm @malfoys-demigod @nd264 @taintedstranger @travelersinister @ttyna5user @v4mp74u @mayans-mc @queenanababy

[luveline]

idk if you’ve done a request like this before but maybe roan (sweetest girl ever) gets moody and says something mean or does something mean to reader and maybe reader gets really sad over it and eddie helps roan apologize or make it better?

thank you you for your request! eddie and roan. fem!reader, 2k

Roan's hair is softer than her father's but twice as unruly. You hum and haw over what to do with it —she wants it out of her face because the weather is so, so hot today, your hands clammy even now, but lately she's complained about hairpin headaches. 

"Ready for brushing?" you ask. 

"No." Roan squirms in your lap. "Can you just put it up, please?" 

You nibble your bottom lip. You don't necessarily need to brush it, she's not going anywhere. She's lovely with or without neat hair, but… 

"I don't want it to get matted," you say, almost to yourself rather than her. 

"I want to go play," Roan whines.

You don't wince at her derision nor her impatience. She and her handsome father are the people you love most in the world, and to be able to do that, you've had to adapt to how children react. They can't control their bad moods with half the expertise of adults (though some of the adults you know can't do it, either). They need wiggle room.

And affection, undoubtedly. 

You stroke her hair back from her face. She jerks away from your touch. 

"Ro, I'm sorry," you say, in an attempt to assuage her unhappiness. Her fuse can be rather short. You'll all be happier if you can snub this flame before she has a meltdown. "I'm just trying to think of how best to do this, that's all. Can you give me a second?" 

Hair up? Clips out of her face? You know she's not in the best mood, and sometimes elaborate hairstyles make her feel better, but you can tell what she wants now is to be by herself with her dolls in the cool breeze of her standing fan. Simple ponytail, you decide. You and Eddie will just have to deal with any knots that happen when they happen–

"You're not good at hair, I should've asked dad," Roan declares, jumping off of your lap. 

You're startled, with barely the wits to say, "Hey, don't be like that, honey, I can do it–" 

"No, you can't do it." She snatches the hairbrush from you and turns the other way. "Dad will do it faster." 

"Hey," Eddie says, as though summoned by her mention. He stands in the doorway to the living room, a familiar yet foreign look on his face as he towel dries his wet hands. "Why are we talking to each other that way?" 

"Because she's slow!" Roan says, agitated, hands in fists at her sides. 

"Hey, no. I don't know why you're feeling unhappy, but being mean isn't going to make it go away. You don't talk to people like that, especially Y/N," Eddie says. His dark, thick brows furrow with frustration. 

Roan visibly gets more upset. 

"You want to go have five minutes?" Eddie asks her.

She throws her hairbrush on the floor and pushes past his legs, her footsteps like pangs of thunder as she stomps up the stairs. "Ugh!" she shouts. 

Eddie frowns at her as she goes but doesn't call anything more. You clasp the back of the couch in unsteady hands, a weird, strangling pressure wrapped around your throat like a hand. Your sides ache at your twisted position. 

Eddie, to his credit, isn't mad. He toes aside the thrown hairbrush with a confused pout. "What the hell just happened?" he asks. 

You're not sure. Roan's not happy because she's overwhelmed by the inescapable heat of summer, her TV volume is stuck slightly too loud at 27, and she didn't like the broccoli Eddie asked her to eat at lunch. Your slow hairstyling was the last straw, evidently. 

It hurts to have her angry at you. Hurts that she thinks you aren't measuring up to her father. 

You rub your eyes. "My fault. Couldn't get the brush through her hair 'n' took too long putting it up." 

Eddie lights up. You used to think it was theatrical, how he performs his affection, but the longer you know him, the clearer it becomes that he's just a dramatic guy. He sidles up to the couch and takes your face into both hands. 

"Not your fault," he says gently. Then, with more gusto, "She's grumpy, I'm sorry she took it out on you."

You try to play up to his bravado and find your own performance falling flat. "Yeah." 

His thumbs draw soft lines on your cheeks. You really like coparenting with him (though it feels a little weird to put it that way, and also very right) but in moments like this, you remember how much you love being his partner. How much you want him to kiss you and think you're pretty and smart and perfect. Eddie kisses the top of your head and gives you a hug over the couch, squeezing the tops of your shoulders, your face pressed to his neck. 

"It's not a big deal," you say. 

"No, it is. She's not having a good day, but I don't want her to be someone who takes it out on other people." He drops his lips to your forehead. "I'll go talk to her in a bit. Try not to take it personally, sweetheart. She knows how much you love her 'n' she knows she can be unreasonable with you like she is with me and Wayne. Blessing and a curse." 

You're reassured by the idea. Roan's showing off with you because she knows you're not going anywhere. She's moody and you'd been the first one to make a mistake with her today.

"I'm good at hair," you say unsurely. 

"You're great. Me and Ro have looked like a pair of Abercrombie models since we met you," he praises. 

"Think she's gonna be mad at me all day?" you ask. 

"Babe, you're mad at her." 

"I'm not," you say. 

"You're supposed to be." He gives your shoulder a rough rub. "I'm gonna go talk to her. Don't be upset, yeah? You're amazing." 

You accept a clumsy forehead kiss. 

Eddie leaves to soothe Roan's mood. You can imagine it now, his hip propped on the door jam, his unimpressed but patient look. You know we can't talk to each other like that, Ro. Even if we're not feeling good, we have to try to be nice. Do you know what's making you grumpy? Can I fix it for you?  

It's easy to guess what he's saying because you've heard it all before. He's a good dad. He might not always feel that way, but he is. 

You're not worried about Roan in any grand sense. She'll be okay. You're scared that what she said is true —you're not as good as Eddie at doing her hair. You're not as good as him at lots of things. 

You feel inferior to Eddie often as a parent. It's a given, considering that he's her primary caregiver, and has been since the day she was born. That's years of bonding and love you can't touch (wouldn't want to touch, really, wouldn't ever want to change how it happened at risk of messing up what you have now). You're not even really her official stepmom yet. 

What if Roan loved you because she was too young to know better? What if you're not good enough to take care of her?

Little footsteps drag down the stairs, followed by louder ones. You sniff and wipe the stressed tears that had been collecting in your eyes away, relieved to see Roan looking a little less enraged in the door. Eddie gives you a startled look at your expression, for which you can only offer a small smile. 

Roan doesn't mind the walk, standing in front of you where you're still sitting on the couch with ease. She glances at your lap where you clutch her hair ties in both hands, rubbing her own together guiltily. 

"Hi," you say hopefully. 

Roan looks at Eddie. You watch him nod from the corner of your eye. 

"I'm really sorry," Roan says. "For being mean." 

"That's okay," you say, holding your hand palm up atop your thigh, just in case. 

"Dad said you'd say that, but…" She eyes up your hand. You push it forward, and when she takes it, you draw an encouraging circle into her skin. "'Cus you love me, you don't get angry, but…" 

"What did you tell me, sweetheart? You can tell her. It's okay," Eddie prompts. 

Roan looks up. Brown eyes wide but soft brows pinched together unsurely, she says, "I didn't mean that you do hair badly. Please don't stop doing my hair, and kissing my cheek in the morning. Um, and playing dress up with me." 

"I'm not gonna stop doing those things," you say softly. Internally, you're relieved. "I love doing those things."

"Roan shouldn't have been mean," Eddie interjects. "Right?" 

"No, but she was having a bad day," you say, giving her hand a little swing. "Yeah? That's okay. I have bad days too, and I say things I wish I didn't." 

Roan looks uneasy. "You're not mad at me?" 

"Do you want me to be?" you tease gently. 

"No," she says through a shy laugh. Her stomach presses to your knee as she steps forward. "I didn't mean it about my hair."

"I know." 

She puts her hands up for you to pull her into your lap. You're more than willing to oblige, tucking her head under your chin. She's small in your lap. 

"I love looking after you," you murmur into her hair. "It's my favourite job. I know I'm not as good as daddy at things, but I didn't get all the training he got." 

"You're just as good as dad," Roan says. 

"You're better," Eddie says. 

You turn your head to grin at him. "Not true, but I'll keep trying, Ro. I'll get it." 

Roan fights to escape your tucking, her head tilted back, the blue glow from the fish tank cooling her face. "I love you now," she says. 

"Aw," Eddie says, though he looks shocked at himself, like it had slipped out unbidden. 

"I love you too," you say. More than you can explain. 

She puts her hand on your collar. "I'm sorry," she says again. 

"She knows, babe," Eddie says, flopping down onto the couch next to you both. 

"I forgive you straight away," you agree, rubbing the short breadth of her back lovingly. "It did make me sad, worrying you didn't think good things about me, but it's okay. I know you were getting annoyed. You couldn't help it." 

Roan's smile is so relieved you can't stop yourself from taking her face into two hands and planting kisses into the heart of her hairline. 

"Love you, silly," you say. 

"Share!" Eddie demands, his weight on your arm. 

Roan giggles as she's painted in kisses. Eventually, when her rosy cheeks have been covered inch to inch by kisses and she's so loved up her eyes are shining, she pushes you both away and holds her hands out. "I need space." 

You and Eddie laugh breathlessly and lean back into the couch, shoulder to shoulder. 

The older she gets, the more things like this are going to happen. She's going to have opinions, and expectations for you and Eddie. She's going to want space —she's going to need it, like she said. You don't mind giving her what she needs even if it is an adjustment, and even if she does aim her outbursts at you when she's overwhelmed. You do wish you could curl a strand of her hair around your finger, or stroke her cheek, but then she puts her hands on your shoulder. She's still blushing. 

"You're the best mommy ever," she says. 

"Did you tell her to say that?" you ask Eddie. 

"No way," Eddie says, dropping his head onto your other shoulder, his hair tickling your neck. "She just knows the truth, babe. I didn't have to tell her anything about it." 

[megalony]

Look After You

Since I got so much lovely feedback, I've decided to do an Eddie x reader x Buck series, I hope you will all like it. Any feedback is always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii  @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz

911 Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) has to go on restricted duty at the station when she's pregnant. But it's not as easy as it looks, especially when she starts to feel unwell.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Why are we even debating this?"

"Why are you ambushing me at work?" (Y/n) felt like she'd overstepped the mark as soon as she spoke, but she couldn't take the words back and she couldn't change that it was how she felt.

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides and her teeth sank down in her lower lip when she looked across the locker room at Eddie.

The way his jaw clenched made her knees tremble and her stomach tensed when his hands clamped down on his hips and his biceps tensed so tightly they looked like they were going to burst open. But it was his eyes that caught (Y/n). It was the dark look in his chocolate brown eyes that made her feel like she was falling with no way of landing. It was how he pierced those eyes on her and stared her down until the fog rolling in behind her eyes took over all of her mind and made her feel lightheaded.

"We agreed-"

"You and Evan agreed, I didn't-"

"(Y/n) don't do this."

A tremor rattled through (Y/n)'s stomach and her arms coiled towards her chest like she was trying to hug herself when Eddie growled at her. He never said her name, especially not like that. Eddie had so many petnames for her that she barely recognised her own name passing through his lips.

He only ever called her and Evan by their first names if it was serious and something was wrong. Whereas (Y/n) usually called Evan by his first name because she knew the effect it had on him and how it made his knees weak.

She could feel her head starting to swim and when Eddie looked like he had a shimmering aura glowing around him, she knew she had to sit down before she fell down.

Her hands reached out behind her and she slumped herself down onto the bench in front of the lockers. She landed with a thud and her head lolled forward as her shoulders hunched over. (Y/n) dragged her hands up and down her thighs and across her knees, trying to control the headache forming behind her eyes and stop herself from feeling so sick all of a sudden.

"Okay, what are you two arguing about?" Evan closed the locker room door behind him and stood in the doorway with his hands on his hips and a raised brow. He didn't like the tension in this room, it was suffocating and it made Evan feel like he was stuck in the middle of something. Unsure which partner he should agree with and which one he was about to upset.

"Please tell her that we have to talk to Bobby today."

Evan rolled his lips together and leaned his shoulders back into the wall. He folded his arms over his chest and let his stoic, calm expression tell (Y/n) all she needed to know.

He agreed with Eddie.

He watched the way (Y/n) slumped her head forward again and didn't bother to hide her groan of agitation. It made Evan feel bad. It made his stomach tighten and his lips formed a wince as he sank his teeth down into his lower lip out of nervous habit.

"Baby we have to,"

(Y/n) moved her hands to run across her face and a shiver bolted down her spine again.

Why were they making this so hard? Why were they so adamant about talking to Bobby today? Why not tomorrow, or next week, or next month? (Y/n) just wanted to wait a little longer, just a few more weeks, that was all.

"I can do my job just fine and I'll be alright, it won't affect me yet. Do you know how differently everyone's gonna look at me? How you'll all treat me differently when we announce this?" (Y/n) braced her hands on the bench and started to sway herself back and forth to try and ward off the sickness she could feel rising at the back of her throat.

"Baby this isn't about you being able to do your job."

When (Y/n) scoffed, Eddie tilted his head back and tangled his fingers in his hair, tugging until he was sure he would rip the roots from his scalp. Why couldn't she see this from their point of view?

"Look at me," Eddie dropped his hands and moved forward until he was crouched down in front of her with his hands on her thighs. "We're just trying to look after you, both of you. We know you can do your job, but can't you see how risky it is if you go running into a fire or we winch you down on a harness. If we go into a collapsing building and you get stuck or hurt, then we've all put the baby at risk."

Eddie smoothed his hands up and down (Y/n)'s thighs before he moved and cupped her chin to tilt her head down. He couldn't tell if she was listening to him or if his words were going in one ear and right out the other.

They weren't doing this to be cruel. It wasn't safe for (Y/n) to do all the normal duties she would do on the job, not when she was pregnant.

If (Y/n) went into a dangerous situation, it didn't matter if she could handle it or that she could perform her job as normal. It mattered that she was putting herself at an unnecessary risk and if she got hurt, they might not be able to help her or the baby.

"I… I know, but you're not the ones who are gonna feel useless and restricted. You won't have people telling you to sit down or get out the way or hang back like you're a hindrance… just, while I can, I wanna be useful. That's all I'm trying to say."

(Y/n) looked between her boys before her gaze settled on Evan. She knew he was more likely to crack than Eddie and he might see this more than Eddie because of what he had been through. Evan had the same experience when he'd had operations on his leg and went on blood thinners.

He had people telling him to sit out on a call or telling him he shouldn't be working as much and sometimes he did feel useless.

(Y/n) didn't want to feel like that.

She didn't want people thinking she was incapable of doing her job or telling her to calm down or ask if she was alright every five minutes. While she was very early into the pregnancy and not showing yet, (Y/n) wanted to do her job. She wanted to feel like things were normal before everything started to change and she had to accept the fact of doing lighter duties.

"No one's gonna talk to you like that baby, we won't let them. But we have to tell Bobby. You won't go on restricted duties straight away and you know Bobby, he won't treat you any different, he'll still let you work."

Evan knew Bobby, he might have to be strict with (Y/n) at times and tell her when to step down and wait out on a call, but he wouldn't be unfair or cruel. He would treat her just like he would anyone else and it would be Bobby's discretion whether (Y/n) went out on big calls or not. They were lucky to have him as their captain.

(Y/n) rolled her lips together when Eddie leaned up and rested his forehead against hers. She saw the way his eyes changed and softened around the edges when she wordlessly nodded.

They had to tell Bobby sooner or later. And it may as well be now so they didn't get told off for hiding it from him.

Deep down, (Y/n) knew it was the right thing to do. She knew the boys would hover around and worry if they didn't tell anyone and she knew they were right. She couldn't go on every call out now, running into a burning building or a crumbling house wasn't going to be an option. But there were other things (Y/n) could do, she could try putting out the fires from the outside with the hose, she could tend to the wounded like Hen and Eddie. They had other options than just sitting around doing nothing.

She managed a smile when Eddie kissed her temple before he stood up and held a hand out towards her. Her eyes stayed glued to the floor when the three of them left the locker room and made their way down the corridor towards Bobby's office.

Her hand curled around Evan's bicep and she leaned into his side when they reached the office. She wished they could have this conversation without her. It would be so much easier, but it wasn't possible.

"Hey cap, can we have a word?"

"Sure… what can I do for you?"

All three of them could see the weary look in Bobby's eyes when he watched them all wander into his office and stand in front of his desk. He suddenly felt nervous, as if they were going to bestow some horrid revelation on him or make some kind of accusation.

He didn't usually have them all in his office at the same time like this and they never usually looked this perplexed. And Bobby wasn't doing any annual reviews until next month so he couldn't think why they were here.

A look passed between them all before (Y/n) pressed her lips into a thin line and looked down at her feet. She didn't want to be the one to say it. She moved her hands to tangle them together in front of her lap and she anxiously started picking at the broken skin on her thumb.

"Guys, everything okay?"

"(Y/n)'s pregnant." Evan managed a smile as he spoke and leaned forward to curl his hands around the back of the chair they were all stood behind. He looked over at Eddie and shrugged, murmuring a quiet 'what?' at the look he was given.

Was he supposed to say it differently? Was he supposed to make a big show and tell and do a reveal? No one else was speaking and Evan had a constant desire to fill any silence he found himself in. They knew that. They knew staying quiet would force him to speak and they were lucky Evan hadn't started babbling yet.

"Congratulations." Bobby pushed back in his chair and clapped his hands together as he smiled. His smile instantly calmed all three of them down. "I take it you're all here to go over the rules, about going forward?"

"Am I on restricted duties?" (Y/n) hated how quiet and helpless her voice sounded but Bobby's soft smile and the chuckle he let out made her feel a little better.

"Right, this is how we're gonna do this. For now, you just check in with me about each big call we get, I'll have the final say on if you go or not. You're only restricted on the very demanding calls or the ones that will put you at immediate risk and we all know what those ones are."

They were all sensible adults, they knew which kind of calls (Y/n) would be fine to go on and which ones would pose a risk to her that she needed to sit out on. And any they were unsure of, Bobby would have the final say. It was the easiest option to keep everyone happy and safe.

When they all nodded and stayed silent but content, Bobby moved to stand and lean on the edge of his desk as he continued.

"Once you reach seven months, you'll be on maternity leave, that's not debatable. When you come back, however, is totally up to you. I have to put this on your file now, for safety precautions and I'll need monthly or bi-weekly check-ins. So I know you're okay and not feeling overwhelmed. Does that sound okay?"

"That's great, thanks Cap."

That didn't sound as bad as (Y/n) was expecting. They could all see the relief on her face and she found herself nodding without even realising.

That was fine by her. She knew she couldn't exactly do much when she would be seven or eight months along, let alone nine. And none of them had to think about maternity leave just yet or how long (Y/n) needed off, they could sort that out later.

The updates were fine by (Y/n), she knew it was protocol so Bobby knew she was coping and didn't feel like she was struggling. It kept him in the loop and kep him insured in case (Y/n) suddenly fell ill at any point.

"Does anyone else on the team know?"

"Not yet."

"Then this stays between us until you're all ready to inform the others. I'm really pleased for you all."

***

"Come on, I'm starved. Aren't you hungry?" Evan snook a glance over his shoulder as he headed towards the stairs. He needed a shower, he really needed to have a shower but he wanted lunch first.

They had just finished a round of random, spontaneous little calls and they had gone from scene to scene without coming back to the station all morning. A woman got stuck in an elevator, someone's balcony gave way and a young lady got trapped in the broken balcony floor. Then a bakery had a gas leak and they had to go help and evacuate.

Evan wanted to eat now before the bell sounded and they were out for the rest of the day again. He had a bad feeling that the bell wasn't going to stop ringing today. Someone had secretly jinxed them.

"I'm not hungry," (Y/n) kept her voice quiet and her eyes on her feet as she headed up the stairs after Hen and Evan. She could feel Eddie walking close behind her and she internally cringed at the look she could feel burning into her back.

Eddie knew she had skipped breakfast this morning and they had been out on call for hours. She needed to eat before they didn't get chance and she went all day without anything.

But (Y/n) wasn't hungry. She felt sick.

She felt like her stomach was balling itself up into knots, ready to block off her intestines and make her suffer. The thought of food made bile rise in the back of her throat and her hands were starting to clam up and sweat. Her skin was heating up in a hot flush, she felt like she was boiling over because they had worked all morning and she hadn't eaten since teatime yesterday. And even then, (Y/n) hadn't managed a full plate of food either.

"Mi amor, you need to eat something."

She could feel Eddie's hand hover over her lower back as he aimed for the table and (Y/n) aimed for the fridge to get a drink. She didn't even want a drink, but she knew she had to try and force herself to drink something.

(Y/n) tried to calm her breaths but she bit down on her lip when her fingers curled around a glass and she realised her hand was shaking. That wasn't a good sign. That was a sign that she was running on fumes and she needed to try and have some lunch.

It was hard when her body gave her all the signs she needed, but her stomach declined anything she tried to have.

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she poured three glasses of juice and dug her nails into the glass so harshly her fingers began to throb and ache. She couldn't risk dropping the glasses.

It was a relief when she shuffled over to the table and was able to put all three glasses down, somewhat hazardly, on the table. She let herself flop down into her seat and took a second to tilt her head back and close her eyes, relishing in the way her muscles stopped aching when she sat and relaxed.

She let herself sink down in her chair as Eddie sat on her left and moved his hand to hold her thigh beneath the table. It was soothing to feel him give her knee a squeeze and his feathers started to glide up and down her leg. She tried to melt into his touch and focus on him while Bobby started dishing up the lasagne for everyone. And her eyes locked with Evan across the table as he gave her a soft smile.

As soon as the plate was in front of her, (Y/n) felt adrenaline bubbling up in her chest and her throat physically tensed.

If she had eaten breakfast, she knew she would have thrown it back up by now.

The steam coming from her plate made her nose crinkle and her head started to swim from the heat. She already felt like she was trapped in an oven from her body panicking and going into overdrive, hot food- or any kind of food, wasn't helping right now.

"Please?"

She could of cried at how quiet and sweet Eddie's voice sounded when he hovered his lips over the shell of her ear and leaned in. He nudged her glass closer when he saw she wasn't looking pleased with her food. If she didn't eat, the team were going to notice and say something. And if she didn't eat, she would make herself sick.

But if she had something to drink, the boys wouldn't feel so worried about her. A drink would relieve them all.

(Y/n) curled her hand around her glass and took a tentative sip and as soon as she drank a little, it was like she couldn't stop. She suddenly realised how thirsty she was. Eddie's hand gave her thigh a tight squeeze but it was too late, she'd downed the whole glass. At least she'd had a drink.

She could see that Eddie and Evan had cleared over half their dinner before she dared to pick up her fork and try one bite.

It didn't go down well. One mouthful made her tongue tingle and felt like she'd suddenly had an anaphalactic shock. Her throat wanted to swell, she had to swallow three times to stop herself from throwing it right back up and the smell did something horrible to her stomach.

It took all (Y/n) had in her not to grimace or gag. There was nothing wrong with Bobby's food, he could make anything and she would eat it happily, but any kind of food was disagreeing with her. Even something simple like a plain biscuit felt too heavy on her stomach recently.

"Do you want something else, a bit of toast? A biscuit?" Eddie rested his arm over the back of (Y/n)'s chair and pressed his lips against the side of her temple. He tried to keep his voice quiet so no one else noticed. No one said anything when they noticed (Y/n) wasn't eating, she had already told them this morning she didn't feel well in case they noticed she was flagging.

"No thanks," (Y/n) shook her head and pushed her plate away before she picked up her glass and held it out to him when he stood up to clear their plates. If he was offering, she would take another drink.

It made him smile. A drink was something, she had finally had something and Eddie had made a mental note to try and remember to grab some complan shakes on the way home. They would give (Y/n) a boost and some protein if she wasn't eating.

"Okay?" Evan mumbled quietly as he nudged his foot against (Y/n)'s leg beneath the table. He preferred sitting opposite his partners rather than next to them, he could see them better this way without having to turn every which way. And he always sat near Bobby, it was a tradition Evan didn't want to break.

(Y/n) tried to nod but she grimaced and sighed, it made her head throb. It felt like someone was banging a drum inside her head so harshly her skull was going to rip at the seams. The thudding of her heartbeat pulsed beneath her skin and pounded through her head so badly that she couldn't even see anymore. All she could make out were the black and white sparkles blinking in front of her eyes.

When her eyes couldn't focus on anyone sat round the table, (Y/n) planted her arms down and tried to take a deep breath to steady herself and stay upright, but it didn't work.

Evan watched in horror as (Y/n)'s eyes rolled to the back of her head, but before he could say anything, her head dropped. Her shoulders slumped forward and her head smacked into the table with such a sudden bang that it felt more like a gun had been fired.

"Fuck!"

He lurched back in his seat and braced his hands on the table as his heart felt like it had jumped up into his throat.

Scraping his chair back, Evan clamoured round the table behind Bobby's chair and reached out for (Y/n). He leaned over and curled one arm behind her shoulders while he slipped his other hand beneath her temple that was flat out on the table. It was a good job Eddie had cleared her plate or she would have landed in her dinner.

Evan carefully pulled her back and leaned her back against the chair but his upper lip curled in distaste and a growl left his lips as he shuddered.

"Oh- oh God, Eddie grab the med bag." It was hard for Evan not to start shaking when he looked down at (Y/n). She'd hit the table hard enough to give herself a nosebleed. Blood was pouring down her nose, dribbling past her slightly parted lips and onto the dark oak table.

Eddie threw the tea towel down on the side when he leaned over the counter and caught sight of (Y/n). Spanish profanities slurred past his lips as he sped off to find the nearest medical bag.

"Come here baby," Evan mumbled quietly as he pulled (Y/n) to slump her into his chest.

He eased her off the chair and went down on his knees on the floor, lowering (Y/n) down with him until she flopped into his embrace. He managed a grateful smile when Hen bent down with him and carefully held (Y/n)'s ankles and straightened her legs out. They both reclined her until her back was settled on Evan's lower chest and abdomen and her head was tucked beneath his chin against his collar bone.

Evan carefully held (Y/n)'s chin and tilted her head forward so the blood ran down her face and didn't go down her throat and cause her to choke.

"Okay, let's take a look." Eddie knelt down beside (Y/n)'s thigh in front of Evan when Hen shuffled back to let him take her place.

He held her limp wrist and felt her pulse before he reached forward and pressed the back of his hand against her forehead. Her pulse was high and she was starting to burn up. He handed Evan a wad of gauze to press against her nose while he found the blood pressure cuff and slid it up her left arm.

"BP's fluctuating but it's still high." Eddie didn't like it. He didn't like how the numbers were going up and down, but they were staying consistently above the normal rate. She was wearing herself down and she clearly had a severe case of morning sickness. They needed to get fluids into her and keep her hydrated before she wore herself out.

When a quiet murmur left her lips, Eddie grabbed a flashlight and pushed forward on his knees.

"(Y/n), baby, you with me?" He brushed his thumb across her cheek while Evan pulled away the gauze that was now drenched in blood and coated his hand. They could both see her eyes fluttering from left to right and she tried her best to keep them open but she wasn't fully conscious yet.

Another quiet sound left her lips before she let her head flop back on Evan's shoulder and tried to coil her trembling arms into her chest.

"No, no head forward, you're still bleeding."

Evan held her chin and tilted her head back down, they didn't need the blood going backwards. It needed to fall from her nose until the bleeding was finally finished and tapered off. He shuffled forward a little to push (Y/n) so she was sitting upright, propped up against him since she had no energy to keep herself upright.

"S… no…"

"What?"

Whatever (Y/n) was trying to say, none of them could work out. When her hand moved, Evan let go of her chin and held her hand to show him they were still there with her. And Eddie kept hold over her wrist to keep a check on her pulse. He let the blood pressure cuff stay loose around her arm ready for him to double check again in five minutes.

Bobby perched down on the edge of the table while Hen and Chimney hovered in the kitchen, just in case they were needed for anything.

(Y/n) tried to open her eyes but she couldn't manage it. All she could manage was to tug on Evan's hand and tap it against her lower chest before her chin lurched forward and she coughed.

A frown pulled on Eddie's lips and he leaned back with a grimace when (Y/n) suddenly threw up. The glass of juice she managed to drink came up with vengeance and spluttered past her lips as she coughed and heaved. Eddie let go of her wrist and held the back of her neck, keeping her head as far down as she could manage so she threw up onto her shirt and lap. They couldn't have her choking.

"Let it out, mi amor." Eddie leaned his free arm on his knees and pressed his hand against his mouth.

This wasn't good.

"Hen, can you grab us an IV bag please? If I can't get any fluids down her she's gotta go to the hospital." Eddie looked up towards the kitchen. He needed to get her hooked up on a saline bag and get as much fluids into her system as he could manage. If they couldn't, they would need to take her to the emergency room because this was not a good state for her to be in.

"Sure… there's antibiotics in the back, if it's her stomach I can find her some soluble antibiotics-"

"She's not ill… she's pregnant." Eddie looked over at Evan before he glanced back at the rest of the team scattered around the annex. It was time to tell them. They couldn't have (Y/n) getting in this state continuously and not letting the team know and (Y/n) had been close to telling them this morning when Hen kept noticing that she didn't look well.

It was safer for everyone to know so they didn't think Bobby was singling (Y/n) out if he told her to stand down from a call or make her stay at the station. And if she was going to get in this state more often and be held down with morning sickness, the team had to know so they could help her.

"I'll find her some anti-emmetics." Understanding flooded Hen's voice as she bypassed the three of them and made her way towards the stairs. To stop (Y/n) being sick again, Hen would find her some anti-sickness meds that could be put straight into an IV to get them in her system quicker.

That way, they might have a better chance of getting some proper fluids and maybe a tiny bit of food down her to perk her back up.

Pushing forward, Evan sat (Y/n) up a little more and grabbed some more tissue and gauze from the medic bag on his left. He began swiping at her nose and lips again, smearing the blood until it was a mix of dusty pink and pale rouge smeared and streaked around her face.

"Baby, do you feel okay?" Evan pressed his lips to the back of (Y/n)'s head and rubbed his hand up and down her arm when she started to murmur something again.

He let her head flop back on his shoulder since she was still sitting up and the bleeding had mostly stopped now.

"Dizzy," (Y/n) took a deep breath and tried to open her eyes but it took a few seconds for them to finally land on Eddie and manage to focus enough to see him properly.

"That's not surprising, you hit the table pretty hard, baby."

She grimaced at the taste of blood in her mouth and the smell of it stuck up her nose. Her lips rolled together and it made her cringe to feel the blood starting to dry around her lips and her chin, it felt like she had been cast in clay that was starting to chip off and break apart. And she knew by the uncomfortable feeling of her shirt sticking to her chest that she must have been sick.

She tried to move her arms but her head tilted down and she groaned when she realised she had a blood pressure cuff loosely wrapped around her left arm.

"Here, I've added the emmetics in for you."

"Thanks," Eddie managed a small smile when Hen handed over an IV line attached to a saline bag and a packaged needle and cap ready to hook up to (Y/n). "Stay still for me."

Eddie swabbed the back of (Y/n)'s hand before he got the needle ready. He kept his eyes on her hand so he didn't see the way she winced when he pushed it into her vein, but he could tell Evan had to hold her tighter to stop her from moving in discomfort. Once it was done, Eddie hooked the IV line up and opened the cap to get the fluids in. There was no need to put the line on a slow release, they needed it all in (Y/n)'s system as quick as possible.

"Shall we try and sit you down now?"

When she nodded, she watched Eddie put the IV bag on his shoulder before he held his hands out to her. Evan kept hold of her waist and they carefully eased her up between them, taking her weight when her legs trembled. They carefully manoeuvred her round and got her sat down at the table again.

(Y/n) let her hands fall to her lap and she rubbed her trembling palms up and down her knees, trying to ignore the IV taped into her hand. She tilted her head down and took deep breaths, finally feeling like the fog in her head was disappearing and being replaced with a dull, throbbing headache.

"Give it an hour for observation, then one of us will take you home." Eddie leaned over the back of the chair and moved his hands to comfortingly squeeze (Y/n)'s shoulders.

When they knew she was okay and had some fluids in her system, they would take her home. There was no way (Y/n) could remain on shift after this. She needed to go home and rest, no one on the team would let her stay and try to overdo it when she'd just collapsed.

And both men knew she had to be feeling rough for her to just nod and agree without an argument.

(Y/n) dared to lift her eyes from staring down at her feet when she felt Evan's hand move to squeeze her thigh as he took a seat in front of her. He had a small, lazy smile on his lips and he propped his chin up on his free hand while his thumb glided up and down her leg.

"What are we gonna do with you, hm?"

[liliannadelaphinehartifelt]

We talk about Creole/Cajun Cowboy Alastor -complete with that perfect southern Cajun/creole accent- but do we REALLY talk about it enough??!

Like, I mean down to the tiniest mannerisms and details. How Alastor probably was out in his family’s feilds putting in WORK everyday when he was younger or how he might’ve had such a heavy accent that everyone swooned when he’d speak -especially the ladies- and how he probably had to work 1000x harder to hide it when he started as a radio show host?!??!?

And don’t get me started on the natural charm…we all know he’s got it already but ADD in the southern aspects and you’ve got a whole new Alastor!!! I’m so certain his accent comes out when he’s reallll upset or agitated or if he’s reminiscing about his past -specifically his mother and what she was like- And speaking of her I just know she was a southern gothic girl and absolutely stunning!

Ughhhh I don’t think yall get what I’m trying to say about this but if you’re from the south you know what I’m talking about right?!?

Alastor enthusiasts rise up and give me your headcanons on this subject cause I’m so ready to write a fic about it idk whyyyy but I’m so tempted to do it!!!!

(Lmk the artist of this fanart. I can never find the original creator for some reason so that’d help me a lot if you guys lmk so I can tag them. ❤️ ) Credit to creator/not my art…

[m4rv3l-girl]

Hellooo! I stumbled upon your writing on request & it was so good and you deliver it perfectly. So here am I requesting a ff from you. Its about reader/OC where she also an avenger. Bucky is in relationship with her. Most of their mission were almost together & for this one they were separated. It wasn’t unusual but this time Bucky seems more agitated. This cause them to have arguments. Before they could resolve it she was sent to the mission earlier than dated. Bucky regret what he said to her & try to find her to apologise but what he gets was an upsetting news. Her plane had been hijacked. I need angst but with happy ending please. Yearning is good to add too. Thank you so much and sorry if my request was too much. 🤍🩵🤍🩵💗

Hijacked

Warnings: mentions of violence.

Bucky leaned against the sleek counter in the Avengers Tower communal kitchen, nursing his fifth cup of coffee of the day.

The bitter liquid did nothing to ease the churn of unease in his stomach. Y/N had left the room hours ago after their latest argument, the tension still heavy in the air. He hated when they fought, hated the way her voice wavered when she’d told him he was overreacting, and especially hated the way she’d walked away before he could figure out how to apologize.

It wasn’t unusual for them to be sent on separate missions. As one of the most capable field agents on the team, Y/N often worked independently or alongside Natasha, while Bucky found himself paired with Steve or Sam. They always managed, always found their way back to each other. This time, though, something was different. He couldn’t shake the nagging worry gnawing at the edges of his mind, the sense that something was off.

"You're being ridiculous," Y/N had said earlier, her tone sharp but her eyes soft. "I can handle myself, Bucky. You know that."

"I know you can," he’d snapped back, running a hand through his hair. "But that doesn't mean I have to like the idea of you being out there alone. Especially now."

“Now?” she’d echoed, crossing her arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I—” He’d faltered, his frustration overriding his ability to articulate the fear gripping his chest. "I just think we should’ve had more time to prepare. It’s not like they couldn’t have waited a day or two."

She’d sighed then, exasperated. “This is what we do. It’s not always perfect timing.”

And then she’d walked out.

The sound of a nearby chair scraping against the floor jolted Bucky from his thoughts. Sam plopped down across from him, tossing a protein bar onto the counter.

“You look like you’ve been brooding for hours,” Sam remarked, unwrapping the bar. “What’s going on?”

“Y/N’s mission got moved up,” Bucky muttered, staring into his coffee. “We argued before she left.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“And she’s already gone,” Bucky admitted, his voice low. “I didn’t get to apologize.”

Sam chewed thoughtfully. “She’ll be fine, man. Y/N’s a badass. But you should probably work on this whole ‘bottle-up-your-emotions-until-they-explode’ thing. It’s not a great look.”

Bucky didn’t respond, his mind too tangled with guilt and worry. He couldn’t shake the image of Y/N walking onto the Quinjet, her back rigid and her expression unreadable. He should’ve stopped her. He should’ve said something—anything.

Hours turned into a restless night. Bucky paced his room, glancing at his phone every few minutes, waiting for some kind of update. When the call finally came, it wasn’t what he was expecting.

“Barnes,” Steve’s voice crackled through the line, urgent and grim. “Y/N’s plane has been hijacked.”

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. Bucky gripped the edge of the desk, his knuckles white.

“What do you mean, hijacked?” he demanded, his voice barely steady.

“En route to the mission,” Steve explained. “The plane went off course. We lost contact about an hour ago.”

Bucky’s chest tightened. An hour. Anything could have happened in that time. His mind raced with worst-case scenarios, each one more horrifying than the last.

“I’m going after her,” he said immediately, already moving to grab his gear.

“Bucky—” Steve started, but Bucky cut him off.

“Don’t try to talk me out of this,” he growled. “You’d do the same if it were me.”

Steve sighed. “Just… be careful.”

Bucky barely registered Steve’s next words as he ended the call, his mind already racing. His stomach churned with a potent mix of dread and determination as he grabbed his gear, slinging his tactical bag over his shoulder. He could feel the weight of Steve's gaze as he passed him in the hallway.

“She’ll be okay, Buck,” Steve said softly, his voice steady but his eyes betraying his own worry. “Y/N’s one of the best.”

Bucky nodded stiffly, but the knot in his chest didn’t loosen. She was the best—that’s what scared him. He knew exactly what kind of danger someone like her would attract. And now she was out there, in the hands of God-knows-who, and the last words he’d said to her were drenched in frustration instead of love.

“Don’t wait up,” Bucky muttered before walking out, leaving Steve in the hallway.

Down in the briefing room, Sam was already poring over satellite data, his brow furrowed in concentration. Natasha stood next to him, arms crossed, her sharp eyes scanning the map projected on the wall.

“Tell me you’ve got something,” Bucky said, his voice taut.

“We’re working on it,” Sam replied, glancing up. “Last known coordinates put her plane about here.” He pointed to a dense patch of forest on the map, far from any major cities or settlements. “But that’s where it went dark. No signals since.”

“What kind of hijackers force a plane down in the middle of nowhere?” Bucky muttered, more to himself than to them.

Natasha gave him a pointed look. “The kind who want privacy. Whoever they are, they knew what they were doing.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened. “Then we don’t have time to waste. How do we get there?”

“I’ve got a Quinjet ready,” Natasha said, already moving toward the hangar. “Sam’s coming with me to cover the air. You?”

“I’m going on the ground,” Bucky said without hesitation. “I need to find her.”

Natasha didn’t argue, though her gaze lingered on him for a moment. “Fine. But don’t do anything stupid. She’ll need you in one piece.”

Bucky followed them to the hangar, his movements automatic as he loaded up on weapons and gear. Every second felt like an eternity, his mind replaying images of Y/N’s face, the sound of her voice when they’d argued.

“I’ll take the north quadrant,” Sam said as they boarded the Quinjet. “You can have the east. We’ll scan for heat signatures and anything out of the ordinary. Natasha’s running point.”

Bucky nodded absently, his focus already miles ahead of them, in that forest where Y/N was waiting.

As the Quinjet took off, the hum of the engines did little to soothe his nerves. Natasha’s voice crackled through the comms, giving updates on their trajectory, but Bucky barely listened. His gaze was fixed out the window, the cityscape below giving way to sprawling green wilderness.

“Hey,” Sam’s voice broke through his thoughts. “You good?”

“No,” Bucky admitted, his voice low. “But I will be when I find her.”

Sam studied him for a moment, then nodded. “We’ll get her back. You know that, right?”

Bucky didn’t answer. He couldn’t let himself think about any other possibility.

The Quinjet began to descend, the dense forest rising up to meet them. Natasha’s voice came through the comms again.

“We’re close to the coordinates. There’s a clearing about half a mile east where we can set down. From there, it’s on foot.”

Bucky was already moving toward the hatch, his gear secured and his mind focused. As soon as the Quinjet touched down, he was out, the cool forest air hitting him like a slap.

Sam and Natasha followed, the three of them standing in the shadow of the towering trees.

“Keep in contact,” Natasha said, her voice brisk. “If you find anything, call it in.”

Bucky gave a curt nod before heading east, his steps quick and purposeful. The forest was dense, the underbrush tangling around his boots and the canopy overhead blocking out most of the light. His enhanced senses sharpened, every sound and movement setting him on edge.

“Come on, Y/N,” he muttered under his breath, his eyes scanning the trees. “Give me something.”

The faint smell of smoke caught his attention first, acrid and metallic. He moved toward it, his heart pounding. As he pushed through the underbrush, the wreckage came into view.

The plane was mangled, its nose buried in the dirt and its wings twisted at unnatural angles. Smoke still curled from the fuselage, the acrid scent stinging his nose. Bucky’s breath caught as he took in the scene, his eyes darting over the wreckage for any sign of movement.

“Nat, I’ve found the plane,” he said into his comm, his voice tight.

“Any sign of Y/N?” Natasha’s voice crackled in his ear.

“Not yet,” he said, moving closer. “But I’m not leaving until I do.”

Bucky’s heart pounded as he approached the site, the wreckage stark against the green backdrop. Smoke curled into the air, and the unmistakable scent of burnt metal lingered. He moved silently, his enhanced senses on high alert.

“Come on, Doll,” he murmured under his breath, scanning the area. “Where are you?”

The first sign of life came in the form of muffled voices. Bucky crept closer, his body tensed for a fight. He spotted a group of armed men near the wreckage, their attention focused on something—or someone.

Y/N.

She was on her knees, her hands bound but her gaze defiant. A trickle of blood ran down her temple, but she didn’t look broken. If anything, she looked furious.

Bucky’s chest swelled with both pride and anger. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. One wrong move could put her in more danger. He had to be smart about this.

The fight was over in minutes. Bucky moved like a shadow, taking out the guards one by one. By the time the last man hit the ground, Y/N was already working to free herself.

“Bucky,” she breathed, relief and frustration mingling in her voice.

He was at her side in an instant, his metal hand snapping her restraints like they were nothing. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said, though her voice wavered. “But what the hell are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t just sit around and do nothing,” he admitted, his hands hovering over her, unsure where to touch. “I had to make sure you were safe.”

Her expression softened, the anger melting away. “You idiot,” she murmured, throwing her arms around him.

Bucky held her tightly, burying his face in her hair. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “For what I said. For not stopping you. For everything.”

Y/N pulled back just enough to look at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “You don’t have to apologize. I know you were just worried.”

“I can’t lose you,” he said, his voice raw. “Not now. Not ever.”

“You won’t,” she promised, her hand cupping his cheek. “I’m right here.”

They made their way back to the Quinjet, leaning on each other for support. Bucky couldn’t stop stealing glances at her, as if reassuring himself that she was really there.

Back at the tower, the rest of the team welcomed them with relieved smiles and teasing remarks. But Bucky didn’t let Y/N out of his sight, his hand always brushing against hers, his presence a constant reminder that she wasn’t alone.

Later, as they lay tangled together on the couch, Bucky pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’m never letting you go on a mission alone again,” he murmured.

Y/N chuckled, the sound soft and warm. “We’ll see about that.”

For now, though, they were together, and that was all that mattered.

——————————————————————————————————

Hope you enjoyed it, hun! 🫶

[dentiststoothfairy]

hello! can i ask a norton,Aesop,and naib

with an s/o that got really hurt during a match like it injured the whole right side of there s/o face and also made their s/o loss there right eye? so like at first another survivor told them you got hurt so they went to you thinking you just got a scratch or something but they didn't expect to find there s/o in a puddle of their own blood holding the right side of there face because it got hit with a flare gun which exploded right when it hit the right side of there face,

(it's fine if you don't want to do this or your not comfortable writing it, that's fine but thanks for taking the time out of your day to read my request(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

🟢 𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐁 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐀𝐑 🟢

Accidents occasionally happen in the manor, which always gets on his nerves. It's just the soldier in him.

No room for mistakes with this one.

So when he found out you were in an accident with a flare gun, he was pretty pissed off.

THIS is why people can't afford to fuck up, anytime, any day. Because people like you get fucking hurt.

Cracking his knuckles for a totally unrelated reason guys don't worry.

Emily was pretty stern with him before letting him into her little nursing room that she made for injuries after matches.

Don't apply extra stress on the wound.

Allow for proper rest.

Don't let them apply for matches until their face is at LEAST 77% healed and that's if we're being generous.

As Emily listed off the rules, Naib just got more agitated.

Had something like. Actually gone wrong?

And once he saw you. Holy fucking shit.

Memories came flooding back.

It was like. Actively sort of triggering him. Looking at you like that.

As Emily applied the final bandages to your face to make sure you wouldn't get infected, he couldn't look at you.

Not that he thought you were ugly, no no. It was. Physically painful to see the one he utterly adored to be in that position.

A position his friends were in so long ago.

He tries to get you to rat out who did it. He just wants to talk.

Once the healing is done and it turns out you've lost an eye. He honestly feel sick, for you. Again, he isn't any less attracted to you. But it's. It's so raw for him. It takes him a while to feel okay.

He has war trauma guys.

🍩𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐋 🍩

He's a little more careless than Naib, so when he heard about an accident in a duos match.. He didn't really bat an eye.

You were tough, he trusted you. Although, he'd still pretty fucking upset. Like. Come on. How the hell did that even happen in the first place? In fact, the news that an "accident" occurred kind of unnerved him.

And like Naib, Emily gave him a run down on how to treat the wound. Which he could only scoff at.

He knew how to treat a wound like that. Especially a facial wound.

*vaguely gestures to his face*

And. GOD. his reaction to your face.

FUCK DUDE.

It hurts him knowing that you've gone through the EXACT same thing that he has.

Unlike Naib, he doesn't struggle to look at you from guilt. No. He doubles down.

He's extra attentive to you, although he basically discards Emily's advice, he handles it in his own... Mr Mole sort of way.

⚰️ 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐎𝐏 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋 ⚰️

He's pretty expressionless on the daily. It's hard to read his eyes especially with the mask, so when someone br𝐪oke the news that something happened to you during a match.. It was hard to gauge his reaction.

Internally, he was pretty conflicted actually.

One half - was he finally allowed to preserve you for your beauty? No scar or scratch or anything could ever doubt your luminescence to him.

On the other half -

If you weren't already dead...

ARE YOU OKAY?

He was stressed, very stressed.

Anyways. He's actually not a germaphobe as one would expect from the gloves and the mask. So when Emily advised him to watch after you carefully, he listened cautiously.

Once he saw your face

He didn't flinch.

"Oh dear,... Poor [Y/N]...are you feeling alright?"

Probably the only time Emily saw him actually interact with someone like.. A normal human ngl.

Aesop doesn't blink twice.

When I say nothing could tear his eyes from you, I mean nothing.

Lost eye, half scarred face, burnt skin smelling like a chicken dinner.

He truly believes you are the most beautiful th. FINE. FINE. HE'LL PUT DOWN THE SYRINGE :((

U don't love him anymore.... And u hate him 😔 u want him dead /j

[okiedokrie]

Epiphany // Want Me - Chapter 1

Summary: Jeonghan is more than a little upset at Joshua at the moment. He's getting tired of waiting for him, too impatient and stubborn to realize what he has in front of him. Jeonghan takes his frustrations out by having fun. And maybe, he'll enjoy it with the company of a new friend.

Characters/Pairing(s): Yoon Jeonghan x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Suggestive

AUs/Trope info: Non-Idol!AU, Poly!AU, Strangers to Friends to Lovers

Word Count: 2319

Warnings: drinking, cussing, descriptions of non-sexual nudity

Rating: 18+

A/N: banners by @kwanisms

Loud bar music beats in sync with Jeonghan's heart, shockwaves coursing through his body, and the vibrations calm him down. 

It's been exactly 56 hours since that conversation with Joshua by the window, and he's still a little pressed over the fact that Joshua is taking a bit too long to catch up with him. In their 10 years of friendship, many things have changed already. Like the way Joshua dresses, how comfortable they are with controversial jokes, or the way Joshua got beefy over the pandemic for seemingly no reason?

But god, those pecs are immaculate. Jeonghan thought, this wouldn't be the first time he thought of Joshua this way. 

It was a little dubious, wanting someone who's convinced they don't want you in the same way, but ever since that conversation, Joshua has never looked at Jeonghan the same.

It was like an Epiphany smacked him in the face.

Jeonghan isn't complaining though- okay, maybe a little. He's complaining about how long it's taking Joshua to take a hint. Especially when he's trying to set him up with what he believes to be the love of his life.

Apart from Joshua, of course.

A hand wraps around Jeonghan's arm, sliding into the barstool next to him. “Hey Jeonghoney!” She said, placing a kiss on his cheek, a grin spreading across her face in an impish manner.

“Shuji couldn't make it today?” She asked, already having a nickname for a guy she hadn't even met yet, but it was fine, she was always the comfortable type.

“No, doll. He's way too in his head about his feelings and I want him to ride it out on his own, he desperately needs it.” He said, taking another swig of his drink before setting the empty glass down and calling for the bartender. 

Signaling another of his drinks and a new one for his new company, Jeonghan rolled his shoulders in frustration before turning to the woman next to him, her eyes watching his every move attentively, the dim red lights of the bar making her look devilish. 

She is kind of the devil, though, at least to Jeonghan's loins.

“Aw, that's too bad.” She said with a pout, “At least we're here now, let's dance after this drink. What about it, Jeonghoney?” She grinned after.

Jeonghan grinned a boyish grin after this, he always loved that she was always down for whatever, making the most out of any situation. Maybe that's why they clicked during Seungcheol's birthday party.

“Yeah, I'd love that.”

The bar had a more laid-back atmosphere than most nightclubs, which Jeonghan appreciated given that the club crowd was never really his. But still, the dance floor was high on energy and hot. Everything felt too hot and sticky for him to fully get his head into it, especially not with Joshua's existential crisis being in the back of his mind.

He felt her arms wrap around his neck, pulling his body closer to hers as they set a more relaxed pace to the song. She leaned in, kind of shouting over the music to speak to him, “You're in your mind again Jeonghoney, care to share your thoughts?” She said, leading the sway of their bodies to the music.

Jeonghan only shook his head, holding her hips in his palms to swing to the beat more intensely. “Nothing you should worry your pretty little head about, doll. At least, not in the middle of a bar.” He tried to joke, a dry chuckle leaving his throat. 

She huffs, agitation bubbling, “Then why are you thinking about it, hm? In the middle of the bar no less?”

Jeonghan just chortled at this, he kind of played himself there. She may be bubbly and easy-going but that doesn't mean she's anywhere to being stupid. She's a very intelligent woman if she wants to be.

He leans down to kiss the wrinkle on her forehead, effectively smoothing the furrow of her brows, “My bad doll, I'll just focus on you, then.” He said, turning his head to place a kiss on the side of her head, humming at the scent of her perfume. 

She giggled, pulling him close to her as they swayed, the song slowing down. They both turn their heads to rest on each other's foreheads, Jeonghan's hands resting on her hips with no pressure of leading their swaying, only enjoying the warmth of her presence. 

Jeonghan believes this is bliss, to have someone who wants him as much as they want them. It might be wishful thinking on his part, but he hoped that one day Joshua would catch up with him.

It was obvious how Joshua acted around him, but he needed Joshua to tell him explicitly. Joshua needed to come to that realization in his own time.

Jeonghan waited for over a decade now, what's the harm in more waiting?

She leans in, their lips brushing but never kissing,  they haven't kissed, not on the lips yet, but Jeonghan is guilty of wanting to go further with her, carefully considering his options of just asking her directly to let her set the pace.

He decides he's a really patient guy, he's always waiting, isn't he?

Jeonghan came to the realization that he wasn't monogamous a long time ago, he had a lot of time to think about what that meant and to let go of the social stigma that was instilled into him at a young age. He thought he was wrong, for wanting more than one person to love. He thought his integrity and loyalty didn't exist because he couldn't just commit to one person.

But then again, his heart was just too big for one.

Jeonghan pulled away from her face to lean down and press his face into the crook of her neck, opting to press feather-light kisses to the skin, his hair tickling her cheek.

His hands roamed her midriff, still at a respectful pressure and manner. He just wants to feel her close, having no sexual intentions. He hums in contentment, peace in his mind as he shares this intimate moment with her.

Breathing in her scent made calm wash over Jeonghan in gentle waves, almost making him forget the recent turmoils of his and Joshua's relationship. 

The key word is almost.

Much like every day after he met Joshua at 18 years old, he managed to make a place for himself in the back of Jeonghan's mind, never leaving no matter how hard Jeonghan tried to push him further back.

Can you blame Jeonghan though? A beautiful soul like that only comes once in a lifetime, there wasn't a day when Jeonghan could ever think that Joshua could be anything other than beautiful.

Not that he had to try hard, Joshua's merits spoke for themselves. His mindset, devotion, loyalty, and comforting aura. Everything about him. Even everything that he was insecure about, Jeonghan found beautiful. 

Oh, being in love with your best friend hurts.

Maybe one day he’ll get over the monumental obstacle that was his feelings for Joshua. He felt really guilty for them most days, too. He couldn’t fully commit to being Joshua’s friend because of his feelings. He felt bad for essentially lying to him, for over a decade, even. 

Jeonghan doesn’t want to be just his best friend, he never did. And that’s what bothered Jeonghan the most.

She pulls him out of his own thoughts. Running her fingers over his hair to look him in the eyes, still a little unfocused on the current moment. She should be offended, he was the one who invited her out to dance but he couldn’t even be present enough to be here.

But, of course, she isn’t. You see, Jeonghan had a type. The type to forgive over and over again. You and Joshua, basically. 

He's only been in love twice in his lifetime, you and Joshua, basically. 

Jeonghan finally snaps out of his own thoughts just as the song ends, pulling away from her, taking her hands in his to lead her back to the bar. “I really need a drink, sorry for ruining your fun doll.” He said, his voice a little dry.

“It's fine Jeonghoney, you need this more than I do. He'll come around, I'm sure of it.”

Oh, just how sweet can you get? Jeonghan thought, your saccharine smile sticking to his mind like thick honey, golden ambrosia poisoning his mortal consciousness. 

Being in love is addictive, and Jeonghan is only a man. Maybe his pining for his best friend would be the sun he flies too close to, hubris is his greatest sin, after all.

He leans over to press another kiss to her shoulder, “You're too kind to me, doll. It's only been a few days, but would it be too soon to call you a blessing?” He jokes, trying to lighten the situation by buttering her up, like usual.

She giggles, much like at Seungcheol's party, but this time instead of curiosity toward a handsome stranger, it's adorable for a close companion. 

Jeonghan and Y/n haven't known each other for long, but to a romantic, you know your soulmate as soon as you meet them.

It was easy for them, Jeonghan didn't have to skirt around the idea of something more with her. He didn't have to wait for her to get on the same page as him, minds in the same wavelength as soon as they locked eyes. Both Y/n and Jeonghan are romantics, so of course they're in love.

But Jeonghan still yearns for his best friend.

The one who stood by him for over a decade now, the only one who Jeonghan could share all his secrets, the one who knew Jeonghan better than he did, but somehow did not know anything at all.

Jeonghan only wished that in another universe, Joshua was just as much of a romantic as he is, maybe then he'll finally be able to tell him that he loves him in the way that Jeonghan wanted to.

One more drink before they go home. Jeonghan thought.

Taking her home for the first time felt a little intimidating to Jeonghan, especially since the conversation they had before leaving. 

If we're going to take this relationship seriously, you need to trust me Jeonghan, trust us. I love you, truly, I want us.

She's right, of course, one look at the both of them and you'd know just how in love they were.

They make their way through the threshold of Jeonghan and Joshua's shared apartment, carefully entering Jeonghan's room. Joshua hasn't been in their apartment the whole night, choosing to spend his time with high-school friends that took the time to visit him from across the world.

It might be the best for him, a distraction from the difficult situation he found himself in.

Jeonghan helps her with her night routine, his hands are a little clumsy from all the drinking they'd done, yet Jeonghan takes great care in unzipping the back of her dress.

He kisses the new skin exposed to him, her back turned to him as she frees her hair from her up-do and she starts to pick bobby pins out. Jeonghan takes this opportunity to massage her scalp, trying to press out the tension from being up for so long.

After helping her undress, Jeonghan starts to strip lazily too, taking his time to get used to the nip of the cold air nipping at his skin, before joining her in the bathroom, he fishes out some towels as she sets the water to whatever temperature was comfortable for her.

She gets in the shower, letting the water soak into her hair and skin, fogging up the glass of the shower and the mirror. Jeonghan followed after her, hia body also getting soaked by the water as he was reaching for the shampoo and letting it lather on his palms, before gently massaging her scalp again, carefully scratching it to clean.

She sighed, the physical intimacy comforting her, it was odd for most people, to be this comfortable being naked and showering with someone they knew for less than a week. But Jeonghan just felt like someone she'd spend the rest of her life with, it was odd, to fall this quickly, but it was right, this felt right. 

Jeonghan feels the same way too, most men wouldn't know what to do with themselves when in the vicinity of a gorgeous woman, but to Jeonghan,  just her presence was enough. Sure, it'd be nice if there was something more, but just this was enough, love overpowering any carnal desire for her skin.

He just wants her close, so after helping her with shampoo, he hugs her from behind, warm skin pressing against warm skin, pressing small kisses to her wet neck. She giggles, Jeonghan's soft lips tickling her, leaning back against him, she sighs again, she loves this type of intimacy. Both of them were too drunk and tired to do anything over than finish up preparing for bed, so instead they just held each other close, enjoying the moment of silence, only being broken by the steady patter of the shower.

They both finish their shower and skincare before getting dressed, Y/n in one of Jeonghan's shirts and a pair of his boxers, and Jeonghan in much of the same uniform. 

They take turns drying each other's hair, Jeonghan's expensive and fancy blowdryer doing the job perfectly. Now, after a relaxing shower and a few more kisses, they're ready for bed.

Jeonghan shuffles under the covers with her, immediately turning over to pull her close, his heartbeat under her ear as he steadies his breathing again. She looked beautiful, a calm washing over her in the safety of Jeonghan's arms, pressing more kisses into each other's faces as they fell into an easy slumber.

[waffles505]

OMITB S4 Killer Theory

....SPOILERS....

...

Ben GLENroy isn't dead. 

This is my theory for OMITB Season 4. Although I do ultimately think that there are 2 killers/people involved, I believe I have a good part of it solved. Again, just a theory, this could end up being totally wrong...but let me know what YOU think. 

...

In S4E4, our favorite trio (Charles, Mabel & Oliver) go to "Concussions", a bar for stunmen founded in the 70s. We learned that Sazz was there and posted a selfie the day she was murdered. When they start asking questions about Sazz, stuntpeople who were all friends with Sazz, start to get agitated. Especially with Charles (this makes sense as he was Sazz's "face"). As things start to escalate, out of nowhere, a man rolls into the conversation. The trio is shocked to see Ben Glenroy (the victim of S3). Irish Paul Rudd says that he is actually Ben's stunt double...Glen Stubbins. Glen explains how he's mad at the trio for taking "Ben" from him and claims that "15 years he worked for Ben". Throughout this conversation, Glen keeps seeing "rats" everywhere, trying to kill them. No one else sees the rats he's talking about. As the stuntpeople start to get more upset, Glen escorts the trio out of the building. Once they are outside, Glen apologizes for having to play up the "fighting" and wants to talk to Charles. Specifically, he asks Charles if he will be his new "Face". Charles politely declines and Glen begs him for work on a project. Mabel offers Glen a position on the film being made about their podcast and Glen is relieved. He then goes on to show off some "stunts" he can do and the trio is impressed and scared at the same time. When asked about the back room in the bar, Glen tells them about Dr. Maggie who is a chiropractor that helps all the stuntpeople with their pain management. Charles, alarmed, asked if Sazz was in pain. Glen responds "She was in pain, thanks to you". After deciding to take Charles to meet Dr. Maggie, Glen warns Charles to "Mind the rats". Glen stays and listens in on Dr. Maggie's conversation both Charles. We learn that Sazz was in pain and planning to retire to a new career. She was "hurt from a one-sided relationship", Charles believes it's himself that hurt her. We later see Charles return to Concussions, where he decided to "Tap in" for Sazz, so that she could have a proper stuntman's funeral. 

After being hit with a fake bottle, Charles is shocked (rightly so). Glen leans in and tells him, "Lie still, dead man". When it's Glen's turn to say his "goodbyes" to Sazz, he accidently(?) uses a real bottle to hit Charles, knocking him out. 

As chaos ensues and stuntpeople fight one another, Glen says to himself, "this is what Sazz would have wanted."

Soo...what is my theory? 

Ben Glenroy didn't die. His "stuntman" did. Here' what I think happened: 

Ben was the one that temporarily died from the rat poison. In S3, we're led to believe that Ben died from the poison, miraculously survived it, only to be murdered again after being pushed down an elevator shaft. #Rip

Here’s the thing…Ben showed up rather quickly from the hospital to the after-party. With something as serious as ingesting RAT POISON, there’s no way he would be able to walk around and show up, just fine, to the party that occurred so soon after. I believe that while Ben was recovering in the hospital, Ben’s (real) stunt double went in his place (or shall I say, “tapped in”) to the party and unfortunately ended up being killed. Now, whether Ben knew about his stunt double doing this at the time, I don’t know. Recovering from Rat Poison would likely take days, possibly even weeks to recover from (especially considering the amount he was given).  I think the loss of his Stunt Double, especially if they had a relationship similar to what Sazz and Charles had, would hurt him greatly. Ben would probably feel guilt, like we see Charles experiencing in the current time. But if someone wanted Ben dead, hearing the news that he was still alive could put himself in danger. So what does he do? He decides to put on another great performance…that being ”Glen Stubbins”. 

We know that “Glen” is seeing rats everywhere. Ben was poisoned with RAT posion and I wouldn’t be surprised if he had to deal with some side effects after such a serious health scare, such as hallucinations. Ben also likely has PTSD and could be seeing these “rats” as a result. 

Also…Ben Glenroy? Glen Stubbins?

They both have the word GLEN in their names. That’s too much of a coincidence. There’s NO WAY that Ben just happened to find a stunt double who looks identical to him with partially the same name as him. We know that Ben isn’t the smartest bulb in the pack, so perhaps he should have picked SOMETHING other than “Glen”. 

Now, why would Ben do all of this? 

MOTIVE: We know that Ben HATED Charles. While Charles was working on Brazzos, a young Ben Glenroy was cast as a series regular. However, after the first table read, Charles told the director that Ben was a phony and had him fired. Ben blames Charles for his failing acting career. Ben could very easily, in some twisted way, ultimately blame Charles for his Stuntman dying. 

This could mean that Ben had the motive to kill Charles AND/OR Sazz. 

*Although I believe Charles was the true intended target, Sazz being the target is still a possibility. 

Let’s say Sazz WAS the target, Ben knows Sazz. How? Ben briefly worked on Brazzos, which Sazz was Charles’s stuntman for. Maybe Ben wanted Charles to understand the pain he’s in? He wants Charles to know what it feels like to lose that special person. 

IF Charles was the intended target, we already have several reasons for why Ben would kill him. Charles “ruined” his life. What makes a better murderer than someone who’s already supposed to be dead? NO ONE would think/suspect Ben Glenroy, a dead man, could have done it…

I don’t think Ben decided to pretend to be his stunt double until he realized that Charles wasn’t the one that died, Sazz did. Ben gets away with murder, it never gets solved, he ruins Charle’s life in the process, and imagine the Hollywood comeback he would have if he revealed that he had actually been alive this whole time.  What a performance!

As for the other murderer/person involved, I don’t know WHO it is yet, but think Ben must be connected to someone in Hollywood. This person would have to distract the gang with a “movie” about the podcast…but I don’t think the movie is even real. I think it’s all a distraction just to lead up to the big reveal...A movie/documentary about the return of Ben Glenroy and how he survived death. Now THAT would be a huge blockbuster hit. 

As for who dies next…I’m worried for Howard, Loretta, and Oliver. 

Let me know what you think! <3

Reddit Link: https://www.reddit.com/r/OnlyMurdersHulu/comments/1foy09g/s4_killer_theory/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

[inkstainedheartbeats]

Two days after they nearly lose their daughter to a fire the Buckley’s open the door to find a woman with curly red hair on their porch step. Claudia Henderson. They’ve heard the rumors, Hawkins does so dearly love them, about why she moved to Hawkins when her child was six. They’ve heard the rumors about rumors. About how her boy is friends with the boy who did but didn’t. They’ve seen her out and about. Mousy. Timid. Flinching when yelling gets too loud and over protective of her boy. For a moment, just a brief one, they think she’s here to blame their hatchling. Their fledgling. Backs straighten, mouths flatten.

“I do hope I didn’t wake Robin, knocking on your door,” is what they get instead. The mousy, timid woman not as noisy and timid as they thought as she manages to smile and talk her way into their home. Robin is still asleep.

“Now I’m sure we’ve heard the fire story.”

They nod. It felt wrong, smelled fishy. Dottie has never been a fan of the government and River saw the damage to the Harrington boy. No falling debris could cause that.

“I don’t know much. Dusty won’t say much and always looks so scared when I ask. But it’s a load of cow manure. Something happened though.”

Claudia talks in a soft low voice, even when agitated and upset. Her hands moving in eclectic patterns. She tells them what she’s seen, what she’s guessed, put together with the Sinclair’s and oddly enough Ted Wheeler.

“Karen is of the opinion we should wait for the children to tell us. She listens in but doesn’t offer anything. It’s sweet really,” she says and they both notice that her cheeks get the same pink tint that Robin’s does when she talks about Tammy or Heather or Vickie or even Chrissy. Dottie raises an eyebrow, River tucks his chin.

They’re interrupted by noises coming from upstairs. A thump like a body hitting the floor. Followed by two sets of running feet. A door opens, closes, a few minutes later the toilet flushes. They wait and listen as two try to become one on the walk back to Robin’s room.

“Steve likes to think he’s sneaky, but his nightmares give him away. He’ll… he’ll probably cycle through houses. Will try not to be seen. Especially now.”

“Now?” River asks because he’s always been nosier than Dottie.

“Him and Hopper.”

There were rumors, some nastier than others.

“Hopper had practically adopted him.”

Dottie makes a pain filled noise. She’d had a different upbringing than River. His grandmother joining the little commune of hippies and nature lovers, those who wanted peace and a greater feeling of unity, than her parents. And the parents that had basically adopted her.

“We shared custody, Hopper and I. So he comes through my front door. He’ll collapse on me and cry. He probably won’t with you. I know he doesn’t with the others.”

It’s not quite what they left behind, what grief caused them to flee. But it’s still a village and Claudia is there to welcome them in.

—/—/—/—/—/—

Later. Not even a year later. They, and the others, stand up in town hall. Call Jason Carver a fear mongering asshole and condemn anyone who believes him. Jason calls them satanist sympathizers. They aren’t quite run out of town but people side eye them. Some of the more religious threaten them.

They’re there when Claudia get the call Dustin and Steve are in the hospital. There to take Steve’s place protecting the Munson boy. Worry deep set on their faces when he faints the moment Dottie takes the nail studded bat from his hands.

They’re there when Steve flatlines twice and Eddie does thrice. They’re there when Wayne Munson gets the Claudia treatment. They’re there because that’s what family, what a village does.

[zoandreez]

the stars keep on calling my name, pt 1: ikran flying ⋆·˚ ༘ *

pairing: sully reader x ao'nung

summary: after spending your time in the awa'altu clan with the metkayina children, you've feel a bit homesick and decide to run back to what you know. a suprise comes to you when a special visitor wants to tag along. how long can he survive on an ikran?

word count: 798, a short one

warnings: if ur an avatar nerd, this doesn't really make sense plot-wise. sorry. (i don't care.)

a/n: sorry for taking 8 n a half months to make something but i got a few things for yall.. i hope. and yes i know this fic is kind of unrealistic but aren't they all? emd.

you were sick.

not literally, god no. you'd rather the sky people take your life now than show sign of weakness on this godforsaken water park. you hated it here.

your disdain for this place ran deep. you’ve endured nearly a year at awa’altu, long after the war had ended. don’t get me wrong, the clan's hospitality was great. you cherished the friendships formed over the year and were awestruck by the ocean's beauty. however, your heart longed for home.

the forest.

the trees you grew up with, and the familiar vines and cliffs you've climbed your entire life. and just suddenly, without warning, your father uprooted us all and relocated us to a barren land of wet sand and peculiar fish. and of course, you understood why we were doing this. you didnt want to hurt your clan by staying with your omaticayan family, and with the sky people haunting you, it seemed more than likely that staying with tonowari, ronal, and the rest of the metkayina was your best option. but still, it hurt. so,

you were leaving.

you finally mustered up the courage to sneak out of your marui that was wonderfully woven by the women of the clan, just for you and your family. it was late, so you didnt have to worry about your family seeing you as you continued to walk past the other pods.

lo'ak knew about your plan. tuk cried the night prior, but your feathered kisses to her forehead and promises to come back for her seemed to soothe her. kiri was upset that you didn't take her with you. neteyam would have told mom and dad, so he's oblivious to it all.

the stars glimmered in the night, making your bioluminescence shimmer in a way that made you look beautiful. as your feet left marks through the sand, your stride was confident. it was a way he had never seen before.

ao’nung.

you and ao’nung never had the best relationship, especially with you being from a foreign clan and even having the slightest bit of demon blood, even though it didnt show through your three fingers. he despised you and your family. except,

he couldnt get your beauty out of your head. he never could, and yet now, it was even worse.

striding down the wet sand, you could almost feel it turn into the mud and grass you would feel if you were back home. you could smell the mist, although it didn’t have a particular scent. it just smelled.. home-y. you took your ikran by its queue, the same way you would tug on a vine while climbing a tree, and hoisted yourself on before making the bond.

you had to feel the agitation in your ikran before you noticed ao'nung pathetically attempting to crawl onto her tail. she began to screech and flail her tail around before you protested.

"wait!" you whisper-yelled as he almost went flying into the ocean.

"where do you think you're going??" ao'nung said in a mocking tone. he was teasing you, but you weren't kidding this time.

"i'm leaving."

a moment of silence rolled over. ao'nung's face contorted in a way you'd never seen before. surely he'd run to tell your dad. but then.. his lips curled on his face. was he.. trying to smile? regardless, it wasn't a good look for him. after a while of you blankly staring back at him, he stopped.

"you're serious?"

"yes." you said before you turned away, shifted your posture, and your ikran stretched its wings. you leaned forward before the first flap into the air lifted you to home. the wings lifted..

"wait!" he shouted over your ikran's rustles.

"what?" you said agitated. now that the idea was taking place you couldn't wait to leave.

"take me with you."

now it was your turn to laugh. it was also your turn to ask if he was serious. and you still didn't believe him as he half-ass climed his way up onto your ikran.

"ao'nung, get off. i'm leaving."

"no."

"..suit yourself," you muttered. fly as reckless as you can, knock him off. your inner thoughts amused your ikran as she flew off as steep as she could.

ao'nungs screams could have been heard throughout the whole kingdom, if they weren't thousands of feet in the air. he held on to you as hard as possible as your ikran made short stops, dives, and spins you didn't even know she could do. your hair flew behind you into his face, so every now and then the putters of him spitting out a few lost strands made you laugh. eventually you told her to settle down.

out of breath, a smug ao'nung commented, "are you done trying to get me to fall off now?"

"yeah," you giggled through his sighs.

my short apology

... my bad cuz