#pretty sure it's taken 4 years for this second chapter to happen

[paddockbunny]

Don't Blame Me - Part 4

Summary : You had it bad. You had it so damn bad for a man that was not your boyfriend. And when you arrive in Brazil and find out all the drivers were staying in the same hotel…what happens when it’s suddenly all out there to you, on offer, and boyfriend approved? Rating : 18+ Pairing : Daniel Ricciardo x Reader (Max Verstappen’s GF) Word Count : Multi-part imagine - part 4 is 4,000+ words Trigger Warnings : 18+, NSFW, adult language, fantasising having sex with someone who isn’t your boyfriend, sexual themes, graphic descriptions of sex, mention of Christian Horner & Jos Verstappen Images : curated from Pintrest Authors Note : Ok housekeeping. 1. I am sorry this has taken so long to put out, I apologise! I've had some pretty shit health news and I am struggling a bit with it so I hope this doesn't disappoint 2. I realise theres a little plot hole in terms of sprint races and quali etc but for the purposes of the story just go with it please. 3. There are two flashbacks in this chapter. The first flashback takes place AFTER the second. Both are denoted by *** and are labeled by the month so I hope that it helps / makes sense haha. Thank you for reading!!!

Brazil ’23

Qualifying

The chatter over the headphones was mixed with the low rumble you felt as Max’s teammate pulled his Red Bull into his garage next door. Over the radio you heard him being told that he had a hydraulics issue and to come in immediately which set you on edge for Max. He had been doing so well (he had been all year) and this was a total steal of a weekend for him after topping every practice session and round after round of qualifying. Surely they wouldn’t let something go wrong for him. Christian wouldn’t let that happen to him, would he? You looked over to where the pit wall was and you saw Horner turn in his chair and glare into the Perez garage. You tried not to smirk as you thought about how you (and Max) would pay some good money to find out the inner workings of Christian Horner’s mind – especially as all the journalists were constantly asking questions about Perez’ place in the team next year. But that didn’t concern you. Max was your only concern. Right?

Q1 and Q2 went by in the blink of an eye and as Q3 begun you felt yourself get nervous. You turned your head in time to see your boyfriend pull his blue rocket ship out of his garage at the direction of the pit crew who was flagging him on. You watched as suddenly he came to an abrupt halt and he was held with the car half in, half out of the box. Fuck! You have to be kidding?!  Your brain went to the worst and you thought that he was going to be given the same orders to retire as his team mate had received when suddenly you realised it was just to allow another car passed to go in front. The white and blue car of Daniel pull past quickly in front of him and you took a steadying breath. Daniel had been on for a phenomenal weekend himself. He had put solid times in just like Max had and you nervously bit the inside of your cheek wondering if there was a possibility that the pair of them would get into a scrap for pole position as Max shot out into the pit lane behind him. As each of the cars made it out on track – their relevant drivers all trying to put in the best lap times, jostling each other out of position every few minutes – you couldn’t help but keep one eye on your boyfriend’s timings and those of the man whom you dreamt of on a regular basis.

Just as Charles Leclerc topped the timing board with a lighting fast lap you found your fingers moving to ghost over your bottom lip. They acted off their own accord and you had no control over them. The tip of your first finger pressed to your lower lip and you had to take an immediate inhale as your lungs became hungry and desperate for air when the memory flooded back to you simultaneously. Daniel. His lips. The kiss.

***

Monza, Italy

September ‘23

The loud audible gasp that absconded from your open mouth came so quickly you weren’t even able to attempt to cover it up. It had been loud enough for others to hear. In fact it had been stupidly loud enough that Max’s father Jos (who was not your biggest fan) turned to glare at you as soon as it had escaped you. You felt his eyes remain on you but your own were transfixed to the screen before you. Desperate to know he was ok. Please be ok. Just get out of the fucking car. You screamed inside your own head – not daring to do it aloud in front of the elder Verstappen. You were hypnotised by the action on the screen as yellow flags were shown all around the track. The safety car was deployed and you realised you were holding your breath waiting to know he was ok.

“I’m fine. Sorry guys. I couldn’t do anything, the prick ran me wide and then I locked up.” Daniel explained. The “prick” he was referring to was your boyfriend. As they went round neck and neck into turn 2 Max stole all of the available space from Daniel and it all happened so fast you couldn’t work out what exactly had happened. Within seconds, Daniel’s car was flying off track into a techpro barrier at speed. Parts of the car went flying. His wing was broken and two tires had flown clean off. His race was over and it was Daniel’s fault. You couldn’t help but feel upset for him. He had been doing so well this weekend and upset had been caused amongst fans yesterday when Max denied him the chance of his first pole of the season. Your big stupid boyfriend scoffed at you mockingly when you had suggested he could have at least given him the glory of pole this one time. Which ok, it went against everything Max stood for and you were sure Daniel wouldn’t want a pity pole but it would be good for Max to allow others a chance sometimes. At least show the media he wasn’t some Dutch Ogre. Eyes glued to the screen you watched as finally Daniel got out of his crumpled race car and into the medical car that had gone to collect him. He didn’t look hurt. Thankfully. But from his body language you could tell he was pissed.

The decision to exit the garage and go find him came upon you before you had thoroughly worked out exactly what it was you were doing. Your feet seemed to carry you away from Red Bull and outside into the paddock without you telling them too. Ever since that night in Monaco when he said what he did – y’know, the whole what he would do to you if you hadn’t been Max’s girlfriend thing (which still made your stomach tighten into a knot just thinking about it) - you had formed a sort of weird little friendship with him. It didn’t really go anything further than what you would expect of a best friend and his mate’s girlfriend friendship to go like but there certainly was tension – sexual chemistry perhaps, it wouldn’t be that much of a stretch. There were glances and burning looks at each other. The odd smutty remark and compliment flowed freely from his lips. It only made you think of him more (of fucking him that is) and in your head you had been replacing Max with him every single time the pair of you had sex. You kept it all to yourself and played it close to your chest. You didn’t want anyone knowing you wanted nothing more than to be split in two by him. But he was flirty by nature and you knew he was most likely just trying to make you feel comfortable with him seeing as he was such a good friend to your boyfriend.

The other thing that happened to play on your mind and perhaps influence your decision to go find him was the fact that Max had told you last night Daniel’s family was supposed to be at the race weekend. As the pair of you lay in bed Max sympathised with Daniel’s disappointment – Max had always been incredible open with you about how much he struggled growing up and the poor relationship he had with his own family so it touched you he was so considerate of his friend (it even made you feel a bit ridiculous that you had been having so many dirty little thoughts over him). He seemed to genuinely care that Daniel had been saddened that an emergency had taken place back in Australia and they wouldn’t be able to make it and even though you weren’t sure how Daniel would react to the fact you knew, you wanted him to know he had an ear if he needed one.

As you walked in the direction you thought the Alpha Tauri garage was you were pleased that you had been so correct as unexpectedly he sauntered from the back of the garage. When you saw him, with his race suit pulled down dangerously low in his hips (what was it in these men walking around practically oozing sex and giving girls the fodder for totally impure thoughts about them? Your boyfriend included) you could tell from his body language he looked rather pissed. You thought this would have been a totally fruitless pursuit and he would have been tangled up in talking to those in charge of his team – or throwing your boyfriend under the bus perhaps – so you had a moment when it dawned on you that you actually hadn’t been expecting to see him at all. But now, you were committed. Even if you mind went completely blank and you couldn’t think of any sympathetic words at all.

The knock upon his driver’s room door that came from your knuckles was gentle and soft. As you stood there, growing more and more anxious, you realised that it was probably too quiet for him to hear and the idea that you could just abandon your silly little apology now before he knew about it entered your head. But as quickly as it entered your head and flew straight back out again. Instantly, the door was pulled open. The first (and only) thing that you could register in that moment was the fact that he was now topless. Daniel was sans shirt. He was half naked. His race suit remained but slung exceeding low on his exposed hips. Good fucking Lord. His warm golden chest was staring at you. The defined ripples of rock hard abs popped and bulged. Your mouth salivated. For fuck’s sake! A deep, dark throb ripped through your lower half. An ache that you knew was linked to your unforgivable horniness for this man. Self control. Don’t be fucking stupid. Max. Think of Max. You groaned internally at yourself but you knew that if only you were single this would be playing out very differently.

Just then - as you were considered the very real possibility that you were about to have an aneurism or stroke from the pure sight of Daniel semi dressed - he moved aside. The tiny head tilt he gave signalled to you that you were welcome to “come in” to his private drivers room (away from prying eyes and sharp ears). Daniel held the door open and moved aside a little for you. You almost completely blanked and if the law questioned you on the state of his room you wouldn’t be able to recall one single thing.

“I’m sorry.” You squeaked out. Play it cool. Come on. Get your shit together. “For Max. He ruined your race.” You explained. Desperately hoping it would give him the reason as to why you were there invading his personal space in such a bad moment. Daniel’s thunderous face seemed to soften right in front of your eyes. His taught muscles relaxed and eyes neutralised. A smile spread across his softened lips.

“You don’t have to do that.” He replied. “It’s just racing. There’s no harm done.” He shrugged. His neck looked even bigger, thicker than it did when he had a shirt on. You couldn’t help but admire his physic, as it was so different to what you were used to. Max was strong, broad and what you would describe as meaty. He had a bit of something to him that you could grip hold of and you loved that. But you were a woman and there was something about a man who was so well defined and ripped that just got you going. Stop it! Stop thinking about the abs! If you don’t stop now you’re going to think about him naked! FUCK SAKE!!  You couldn’t control your brain and you completely failed to control yours eyes. They flickered down. They wasted no time going straight to his crotch. He’s fucking seen that you creep. You gritted your teeth together before letting a shaky sigh leave your lips as you really didn’t want to have to look back into his mesmerising eyes now he had just seen you checking out the bulge in fabric south of his naked abdomen.

“All the same, Daniel. I’m sorry he acted like a dick out there.” You didn’t realise how soft and low your voice had gotten. Nor how strangely intimate this moment felt. Regardless of how you were feeling you didn’t feel as awkward as you thought you were. As he took steps toward you – slowly but somehow all at once – you stayed rooted to the spot and didn’t move. You let him close the small gap between your bodies and couldn’t break the bewitching spell of his gaze. The burning, intense look in his eyes made you feel weak. You almost felt like a lamb that had led itself to the slaughterhouse. The thought was still bouncing off all of the ignited neurons in your brain when you finally piped up; “I probably need to…”   

Then, as your words were cut short and the oxygen was sucked right out of your lungs, you felt yourself go lightheaded and it was as if you were falling from a 20-story building. The fact you were pressed into something cool and metallic behind you never registered. Neither did the feeling of something hard and warm pressed flush against your front. The only thing that you suddenly could think about – the only smidgen of brain function you were able to comprehend – was the fact Daniel’s mouth was on yours. His big, pouty lips embraced your own as if they had been searching for them his whole life. Then they began to move against yours and a shaky, unsteady breath flowed from his parted mouth. It was swallowed in its entirety by your own as a barely audible gasp snapped out of you. With your mouth now open – your lips parted to him, granting him unspoken access – Daniel’s tongue ran over yours in a testing, teasing motion. A moan slipped from your throat. His hands gripped at your waist before one of them trailed up and pushed its way through the hair that you had worn down because he had complimented you on your long flowing locks the last time you had seen him. You realised this was what you had been dreaming about. This was fantasy that had been playing over and over in your head for the past few months. You were getting what you wanted.

Because of all the things I would do to you, if you weren’t his. His words he had dared to speak in Monaco repeated in your head while his tongue glided across yours. He ground himself against your core and you could feel the effect you had had on him. He wanted you. It was painfully obvious he did. But the last part of the words he had spoken to you that night reiterated them self to you. If you weren’t his.

Max.

You suddenly remembered Max.

Your hands were suddenly pushing against the flesh of Daniel’s warm chest. While you tried desperately to fill your lungs with air your eyes flicked open and you were instantly staring into confused, yet still affectionate eyes.

“I can’t.” You stated plainly.

“Max.”

The next however many minutes were all a complete, total blur of which you couldn’t recount any of them at all. Your mind kept going back to Daniel and it didn’t help you could taste him on your tongue as you stomped back into the back of the Red Bull garage. What had happened was wrong. It was fucked. He had no right to kiss you like that – he had no right to kiss you at all. But you had kissed back and you only stopped because you suddenly remembered your boyfriend, not because you wholeheartedly wanted too. Fuck. I hate myself. I went too far. You slipped the headphones back on to catch the last remaining few laps of the race and reprimanded yourself while doing it. Why did I go looking for him? Did I give him the wrong signals? Fuck why couldn’t I have been single? He would have been fucking me right now if I were single. God, he’s such a good kisser. Fucking hell, he’s probably ridiculous at eating you out. The feeling of your wet – no soaking – panties that were now clinging to your dripping wet folds only helped stoke the burning desire that was growing inside of you to run back to him. You forced your attention to the screens to try quashing all of the disgusting thoughts running through your mind. As Max’s car flashed up on the screen you really did feel insurmountable guilt begin to build inside of your body. You kiss one of his best mates. You kissed someone he respected and loved like a brother. Someone he cared for. You knew Max was open-minded and he was forgiving to a fault, but you didn’t want to tell him and destroy what you had. So as you watched him cross the finish line and clinch a win in Monza, you swore never to tell him.

***

Budapest Hungary 

July '23

The scene was set. Max observed Daniel grow weary and head to their prior reserved table in the dimly lit corner of the private members bar. This was his chance, his one moment of getting him alone - away from all of the hangers on Daniel was surrounded by - to finally ask the burning question that had been playing on his own mind for months now. 

As his feet began carrying him in the direction of his favourite Formula One teammate he swallowed his own tiredness. The body aches and drained feeling from a tiring race were rippling through body and he knew Daniel would be suffering too but it didn’t distract him from what he had to do. Like a lion stalking its prey, Max stalked over to the corner and reminded himself this was what he wanted. 

Max flopped down on the plush dark cherry red velvet sofa with a low but steady sigh. He situated himself against the opposite arm to Daniel - just in case this question wouldn’t be as well received as he suspected it would be - and wondered if he should have informed you of his decision first or pushed for you to have attended this weekend so you would now be present to make things easier as he pitched the idea to his friend. But as the thought of you flooded his memory (specifically the sight you lying naked in his bed the morning he had to leave to catch an early flight) he found himself swallowing again. This time with a strange excitement that he couldn’t place but he wasted no time in dwelling upon it. 

Max felt Daniel’s eyes on him and he relaxed into the sofa. Head rolling back against it before falling in the direction of his old teammate and catching his gaze.  “I have a proposition for you.” The words came freely from Max’s lips. He found it surprising how easily they managed to flow from him. Daniel’s head tilted and his eyebrows raised. Max wondered what he must have been thinking but he was sure there was zero way it would be what was next to leave his mouth. 

“I want you fuck my girlfriend.” 

The passing seconds for Max felt light, carefree and completely relaxed while by the unsuspecting, blank look upon Daniel’s they were clouded in surprise, confusion and total shock. But the longer Daniel remained silent it only confirmed to Max what he had already known all these months. The lack of carefree laughter, quick mocking or jesting gave Daniel away. It was clear to Max that Daniel desired you in the exact same way that you desired him. He had known it for a while. He knew you harboured some dirty little fantasies (like so many other women did toward the handsome, smiling Australian) and after dwelling upon it for a few weeks he had come to the realisation he wanted you to have exactly what you wanted. He had no reason to feel intimidated or threatened by Daniel. He knew you belonged to him and he wouldn’t grudge you something you craved. And even now, as the question hung in the space between them, he was confident Daniel would give in to his obvious lust and attraction for you too. 

Just as your hidden sexual fascination had been completely obvious to him, Max noted Daniels unmistakable reciprocation. His whole behaviour and attitude around you changed and he always seemed to be trying to be careful with his words and making sure he wasn’t going overboard with his flirtatious conduct toward you. But his staring got more intense and Max couldn’t help but clock it each and every time. He noted how Daniel seemed to like being near you whenever he realised Max was just out of reach, how Daniel was always whispering in your ear when he was out of earshot and how he would bite his lip as if he was trying to hold himself back each time you would laugh. Any other man would probably have been annoyed, pissed and angry at how his best mate was hot for his girlfriend but Max wasn’t like most men. He loved you. Wholeheartedly and irrevocably. And most importantly, he trusted you completely. 

“I know you know she likes you and I’ve seen you with her, I know your moves Daniel.” It was true. Max did know all of Daniel’s moves. He had practically studied them, learned them and used them himself to pick up women.  “Mate….” On a quick, sharp exhale Daniel let out a nervous, uncertain laugh His eyes looked impossibly large as if he was concerned and worried he was about to get punched.  “Don’t worry, I’m not pissed…” Max smirked “In fact, I’m glad it’s you she’s been fantasising about and not someone else that couldn’t satisfy her. Imagine if it were Charles or worse, Lando.” Max playfully scoffed and for a moment it set Daniel at ease. 

Daniel wasn’t sure his heart had ever beaten as fast as it was since Max had asked his question. I want you to fuck my girlfriend. Those were his exact words and they kept going round and round like a funfair ride in his mind. It seemed utterly inconceivable that Max would ask a question like that. He was head over heels in love with you. Any fool could see it. 

“It’s your girlfriend….” Was all Daniel could choke out because suddenly his mind was flooded with the image of you. At first it was innocent. He simply remembered you laughing at a joke he made the last time he saw you; then what you were wearing and how good you looked in it; then how glowy and soft your skin looked as the warm sun beat down upon it; then how glossy and kissable your lips were; then he pictured you naked and then FUCK! That made it game over. 

He mentally tried to scold himself but it was no good. The sheer thought of actually getting to fuck you was too strong and if Max hadn’t suddenly begun speaking to him he would have been trying to hide his very obvious semi growing in his jeans. 

“I know and that’s why I want her to have what she wants.” The thought of his lips trailing down your chest, his tongue flicking over your pert responsive nipple, made his throat tighten. But as badly as he wanted to know what you tasted like or hear the noises you made as he made you squirm in pleasure he wasn’t sure he actually could do it. He wasn’t the type to fuck his friend’s ex let alone current girlfriend – even with permission. “Max, I couldn’t…” Daniel tried to protest and reject the idea but he was cut off mid sentence.  “Tell me you haven’t thought about it?” 

God, had he thought about it. He had thought about you. Ever since the first time he met you when you had slammed right into him, he had thought about you. He had long gone past thinking about you naked. He had already spent many nights with his hand working up and down his pulsating cock to the THOUGHT of you bare and exposed in front of him. He had got himself off in the shower when he THOUGHT of his tongue tasting the glorious wetness that pooled between your thighs. And he quickly made himself come before a race at the sheer THOUGHT of you pulsating and clenching around him as he made you come. Daniel had THOUGHT about fucking you. He THOUGHT about it a lot.

Another nervous laugh came from him as he tried to make sense of Max’s sudden, rather out of character behaviour. He was convinced Max was going to burst into a fit of laughter and expose it as only a prank but he didn’t. Max actually glared at him across the sofa as he awaited an answer. It crossed Daniel’s mind that perhaps Max was getting off on the thought of his girlfriend screwing another man and it was some sex thing – cuckholding, he thought – but Max never seemed the type.

“What’s the catch?” He finally piped up. “There isn’t one. Well, it can only happen once but other than that.” Daniel watched Max’s shoulders move up and down in a shrugging motion while Max kept a watchful eye upon Daniel’s eyes to try determine if he was interested in his smutty proposition or not. “It won’t make it weird between us?” Daniel added and Max shook his head. “Not at all.” He was so carefree about the decision to offer up his girlfriend that in the moment Daniel couldn’t believe how cool Max had become – even if it passed him only fleetingly.

“Well…” Daniel paused and thought of his word choice in how to agree to all this because he seriously thought he was actually in the twilight zone and Max had lost all of his marbles.

“Take some time. Think about it. It’s not like she’s going to go unsatisfied” Max’s voice oozed with cockiness. He knew how good he was in bed and he ALWAYS made sure she came. “If you don’t want to, if you think it’s too weird then fine, whatever, it’s cool.” Daniel once again watch Max shrug “You would regret it though….” And Max knew fine well Daniel was someone who lived without regrets.

Part 5 Here

[theorphicangel]

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫. | 𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐱 (𝐟𝐞𝐦!) 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 |

[ “𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝘄𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗹𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿?” ]

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

synopsis: You're pretty good at sticking to rules. Always have been. And for the past three years you would think that you've been good enough to stick to the rules of being a roommate.

Rule number one: Don’t fall in love. Under any circumstances.

Rule number two: Follow to rule number one.

Easy enough to follow.

Right?

series | previous chapter | next chapter

Chapter 4: April.

cw: suggestive themes, 18+

“Levi! Come look at this rock!”

Levi comes to a stop. He’s only a little ahead of you and yet you can already imagine the frown on his face before he turns.

“Why? So you can throw it at me? That’s attempted murder.” He deadpans.

You snorted aloud, watching him stroll over to you with his hands in his pockets.

“Hey, don’t start giving me ideas, not when we’re getting along so well. I might just use it against you, and it’s not attempted if I succeed.”

“Too bad we’re in the open. Save it for later.” Levi turns to make his way back to the path but he stops again. “Who said that we were getting along well?”

“Well, you stopped calling me an idiot for one. That really annoyed me at one point.”

Levi snorts. “I’d like to see you try and pick that shit up anyways… idiot.”

“Hange’ll help me.” You say, purposely ignoring his insult.. At your comment Levi merely rolled his eyes as, unfortunately, you had a point.

If anything Hange would agree to any stupid thing you’d say. Together you were like tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum…only twice as worse. If Levi could prevent one moment from happening, it would have been the moment that the two of you met. If he’d known that you and Hange would live up to the expectations of making Levi’s life a pure hell, he wouldn't have taken you over to Hange’s house that day.

You laugh out loud suddenly, as if you had read Levi’s personal thoughts. “Don’t tell me you actually think we’ll carry this out.”

“Wouldn’t beat it past you.” Levi spoke, turning around and heading back to the path. You follow him diligently, wanting to keep up with him.

You quickly join his side abruptly bumping into his side. With this action you smoothly link arms with him. For a second you feel his body go stiff, freezing up in surprise but shockingly he doesn’t seem to protest by it.

You lean into him slightly as you tease. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan on murdering my favorite roommate just yet.”

Now it’s his turn to laugh as you both walk down the path together, taking a slow pace.

“Okay one: I’ve been your only roommate… two: ‘just yet’?... I may as well take your guilty ass down to the police station myself.”

You shrug casually, ignoring his last threat. “One: Not many people have had the ability to earn the title of favorite roommate, so be grateful you jackass… and two: sure, I’ll give you credit for being the first but what about when I move out?”

Levi frowns almost immediately, a horrible taste in his mouth at the slight proposal of your last point. Levi feels his stomach suddenly drop and he tries to keep a light hearted tone in his voice as he questions you further. “What’d you mean when you move out?”

“After I murder you, I’ll need to find a new roommate of course, I can’t pay rent by myself.”

Levi rolls his eyes again but this time his shoulders seem to drop with a sort of internal relief. Levi hopes you won’t bring that up again, not even as a joke. He’s not looking forward to that conversation. Not for a long time anyways.

“So you’ll go off and find a new victim?”

“Something like that, although I don’t think anyone else will be as annoying as you.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Levi scoffs in reply.“And where exactly are you planning to hide my body?”

“Not sure.” You murmur softly. “Wanna help me with ideas?”

“Fuck no.”

You pull a frown. “I want to find a comfortable spot for you.”

“Comfortable? I’m dead.”

“Whatever, I still want to keep your soul in peace y’know?”

“You are absolutely fucking ridiculous.” Levi mutters. “I should’ve recorded this so that I can prove to the whole world how fucking crazy you are.”

“They would never believe you.” You taunt. “Plus it was you who made the suggestion in the first place, doofus.”

“Are you sure about that?” Levi asks, tilting his head to look over at you. You notice his dark locks falling gently beneath his brow.

“Positive.”

Letting out a giggle and him a withdrawn scoff you continue to stroll down the path, arms still linked with his.

The local park was pretty quiet, give or take for a few lonesome people. You put this to the responsibility of the gloom of rain clouds approaching your overhead. You and Levi both randomly agreed to go out for a walk to clear your minds from rotting in the apartment all day. But it was suggested to you in particular.

Over the past few days Levi had noticed how you had been cooped up in your room all day, waiting for a text back from… him.

Earlier, Levi had thought for a second that you were alluding to about moving out to go live with Daniel. It was simply a joke. You didn’t even explicitly mention Daniel at all but it didn’t take long for Levi to quickly jump to conclusions.

Although you’d played it off as a lighthearted joke Levi would be lying if he said that he wasn’t worried about it turning to reality one day.

But who is he kidding? You’re only roommates. Friends even. Not…lovers. He has no right to get upset about what you choose to do in the future.

It’d be wrong to think of you as his. Completely wrong. And it’d be wrong to think of the ways you’d touch him. Particularly, late at night when he can’t sleep he’s conjuring up the ways that you would please him. It’s certainly wrong to think of you with his fist wrapped around his cock, imagining that it was yours.

How would you react?

Would you be gentle with him?

How would you sound when he touches you?

How would you sound when he enters you for the first time? When he fills you up? How would he feel when you're clenched around him? And what would the look on your face be when you–

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he shouldn’t be thinking that. Not when you’re right next to him.

“Are you alright?” You ask, noticing Levi’s silence. You felt his body suddenly stiffen.

“Yeah, yeah.” He plays off, trying to fixate his mind on anything, anything at all. Anything but you. In order to succeed in this, he thinks of the worst thing possible. And it seems to do the trick on getting his past thoughts to evaporate.

“Have you heard back from–”

He doesn’t even need to finish the sentence to get you to understand what he’s trying to say. Levi can barely say his name, mentally cursing himself for bringing him up. This walk was supposed to be an attempt to get your mind off him.

Lately, Levi’s noticed how you linger around your phone. Constantly refreshing your screen in the hope of receiving an immediate notification.

You shake your head beside him. Levi notices your facial expression drop at the topic of conversation and a sea of regret floods his entire body.

“No but…” you pause, taking a moment to search for some words. “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation.”

“It wouldn’t be reasonable enough.” Levi mutters under his breath, and he succeeds in getting a small smirk from you. The two of you continue to walk at a slow pace down the path, a comfortable silence emerging.

“I know you hate him.”

“What made that obvious?”

You chuckle at the sound of Levi’s sarcastic tone. “From the moment he came into the apartment and forgot to take his shoes off I knew that he would never be able to live up to your expectations ever again.”

Levi huffed, as if the remembrance of that occasion physically pained him.

“But I’m sure he’s learned his lesson by now. You probably scared him off with all your glaring.”

“I was not glaring.”

“Oh yeah? And the sky is purple.”

“I didn’t say a word to him.”

“You didn’t have to.” you remarked. “It was obvious by your face that you didn’t like him.”

“That’s not my problem.”

“Try and tone it down next time.” you sigh. “I really do want to make it work with him y’know?”

“I know.” Levi says, a random feeling of dejection in his heart and it takes all of him not to add to the end of that sentence ‘but you deserve so much better.’

A crease appears between his brows at your words of a ‘next time.’

Levi hopes there won’t be a next time. Deep down he hopes that there won’t be another time of Daniel coming over invading Levi’s personal space with his shitty jokes and pathetic conversation. He hopes there won’t be a next time of witnessing how Daniel eagerly tries to show off constantly to try and win your heart, blissfully unaware that you deeply dislike it.

He hopes there won’t be a next time when Daniel comes to stay over for the night and Levi is left to hear your muffled moans through the walls. It’s a violent reminder that he’s not getting the privilege of knowing you intimately. He hopes there isn’t a next time where he has to watch Daniel sneak out through the front door, not bothering to wait until you wake with claims of work at his excuse.

Levi truly hopes that there won’t be a time where he watches your innocent heart get played with.

“Ducks.” you say randomly, causing Levi to emerge from his thoughts.

“What?”

You’ve both now reached the lake that stretches wide and far, creating an oval shape in the center of the park. Over to the right there’s a bridge that leads to the other side of the park.

“Ducks.” You repeat, now delving your hands in your pockets to look for your phone. “Lemme take a picture.”

“Swans.” Levi points out impassively.

“And ducks. Same thing.”

“Hardly.”

You ignore his last comment as your thumb clicks the white circle, taking multiple photos of the scenery despite the gray sky and all.

“Take one with me in it.” You turn towards him, holding out your phone to him. For a few seconds he merely stares at your phone in silent protest. You tilt your head in pure persuasion. “Pretty please?”

He rolls his eyes, unable to resist your somewhat adorable charm.

“Whatever.” He mumbles taking your phone as you walk ahead of him ready to pose. Levi sighed before tilting your phone landscape to get a full view of the lake and the swans behind you.

“Smile.” he deadpanned before focusing on taking the photo.

A cheesy grin spread across your face, your hands gesturing towards the swans and ducks. Levi couldn’t help but shake his head at the way you posed bashfully.

“Are you finished?” he mutters, after you start changing poses numerous times. “I think your storage is full.”

Your face drops. “Wait really?” And in a blink of an eye you’re by his side with a concerned look on your face as you glance at your phone screen. “Wait where?”

It then dawns on you that he just wanted you to stop.

“Fuck you.”

“It was for your own reputation. Murderers can’t be seen making goofy poses in the local park.”

“They were not goofy–”

Your argument soon gets interrupted by a stranger approaching and you could tell someone was coming based on the way Levi’s eyes squinted behind you and how his teasing expression began to disappear.

You turned to see an elderly woman, who you assume to be out on possibly on her daily walk.

“Excuse me, but I couldn’t help but admire the two of you and I was wondering if you would like me to take a picture of you and your boyfriend?”

The question makes you double take immediately. Your cheeks grow warm and you stutter for an answer as you and Levi both go silent.

“Oh, no he’s not my–” you begin before you’re interrupted by Levi.

“Sure.”

Levi hands her the phone, your phone, and the two of you both shuffle backwards,

At first you’re unsure of how to pose but quickly relax and wrap an arm around Levi’s waist. Once again, you can feel how his body stiffens yet he ends up positioning his arms around your shoulders.

“Thank you!” you say, taking back the phone after she had taken a few pictures.

“The two of you remind me of my late husband and I. We met when we were quite young and we’d come to this park almost every day together.” As she comes to a pause, she bows her head making your heart ache for her as she remembers her gone soulmate.

“Keep each other close and don’t take each other for granted.” The older woman murmurs her advice. “You two are a beautiful couple. Please cherish every moment you spend together and don’t regret it.”

“Oh uh– thank you.” You nod, the idea of breaking the truth now a thought that you had pushed away.

You nudged Levi discreetly, who was listening silently with a blank expression, to say his gratitude. You wave at the woman who shuffles away, heading over to the bridge.

For a moment, there was a silence between you and Levi. Neither of you are sure how to carry on from that experience.

You take the opportunity to go first. “Why would you say that?”

Levi shrugs, “It’d be more embarrassing for us if we had to explain ourselves. It’s not like it’s the first time people have assumed, so I just thought to let it–be.”

You nod slowly, coming to realize that he’s right.

It was an honest and harmless mistake and that lady was not the first to think that you and Levi were more than just roommates or friends. It has gotten pretty exhaustive and repetitive to state your friendship so now, you don’t really care about the assumptions that people make about the two of you and by the looks of it…neither does he.

A small smile reaches your lips before carrying on with your stoll and in silence the two of you admire the lake which stretches to the other half of the park. On approaching the bridge, dark clouds of rain seem to be heading your way and this is the moment where you internally curse yourself for not bringing an umbrella.

“Maybe…we should start heading back to the car.” You suggest, anxious of the heavy shade of gray that looms over you.

“I second that.” Levi murmurs, beside you. “Let’s head back.”

Making a U-turn, the two of you decide to leave the opportunity to explore the other side of the park for another day as your weather app informs of heavy rain to begin in the next ten minutes which will continue for the rest of the afternoon.

You’re a little deflated, disappointed that your day had to come to a short end. Making your way back to the car, you and Levi briskly walk in an attempt to make it back to the apartment with your bodies as dry as possible but once you felt a large raindrop fall onto your skin, you knew that the raingods had come to curse you.

“Fuck’s sake.” you mutter underneath your breath, eyes watching the once dry pavement beneath your feet soon become patterned with raindrops. In a rush, Levi grabs your hand fiercely, taking you by surprise as he continues his pace despite the rain beginning to unleash its worst.

For a second he was optimistic. Thinking that perhaps this would be a slow start before the real downpour was set but his thinking has failed him as the light raindrops turn heavy and every inch of his body seems to become an antonym to the word dry.

You pull at his hand which causes him to abruptly halt for a moment to turn and look at you.

And by god were you a sight for sore eyes.

Your face is dripping with rain, clothes dark with precipitation and your waterproof mascara suddenly not living up to its name. It’s more than obvious that you needed to get somewhere dry. You both are in need of it.

Levi looks around, scanning for a place where the two of you can find shelter, the number of people in the park now becoming scarce. Unfortunately, there’s no buildings nearby but Levi spots a large oak tree whose branches seem to provide a decent enough roof for the two of you.

His hand, albeit wet, is still tightly wrapped around yours, guiding you to the tree as you try to blink away the on coming raindrops from your eyes. It doesn’t take long for the two of you to reach your safe haven whilst the rain is still smacking against the concrete.

Contrastingly, the ground is soft underneath your feet and you can feel yourself slightly sink a little into the ground with each step. Levi, of course, makes his complaints known by cursing as loudly as he can over the rushing sound of rainfall.

“Shit, I didn’t know this would be muddy. Maybe we should go somewhere else?” His eyes were already searching for a new location, a location with shelter and of appropriate ground.

You shake your head, raindrops falling from your head. “It’s fine, I don’t want to go back out there again.”

Although the leaves of the oak tree aren’t completely dense, you’re still glad that the amount of raindrops that are now falling on you has now slowed to a much relaxed pace.

You sniffle a little, wiping off the raindrops from your face, trying as much as you can to dry yourself up but you don’t seem to get much luck from your otherwise soaked sleeves.

“You alright?” Levi asks. And now you can hear his voice a little better as the volume of the rain has quietened down.

You nod wordlessly, straining your clothes from any damp, watching as water is squeezed out of your materials. You curse aloud, only now realizing the extent of being in the rain without the umbrella. You’ll just have to manifest to the universe tonight that you won’t catch a cold but you can’t completely disregard that consequence.

“Take this.” Levi mutters before taking off his black jacket. “I mean it’s pretty soaked, but you should stay warm. You don’t want to be catching a cold.”

You smirk a little at his offer. “I’m pretty sure it’s set in stone by now, don’t worry. You should keep it on, you might catch a cold.”

“Says the one whose immune system is weaker than an egg shell.”

You roll your eyes. “Alright jerk, just ‘cause you only get sick approximately every 5 years.”

You expected a laugh from him, maybe even an insult but instead you watch the frown on his face grow deeper, him still gesturing for you to take his jacket. “You’re shivering. Take it.” His tone is a little more forceful and before you could even respond, you found comforting material wrapped around your shoulders.

It's only now that you're aware of the sudden close proximity between the two of you. His features are somehow more prominent in the rain. The front locks of his jet black hair have raindrops dripping down onto his face, dripping from his nose and sliding down his cheeks to meet his sharp jawline.

Somehow the rain just makes him look even more…attractive.

“Levi, I’m fine I swear.” You grumble, trying to distract your mind as the warmth from his body transitions to yours. Your retaliations are continuously ignored, leaving you no choice but to accept the gesture gratefully.

“Thanks.”

Levi’s eyes meet yours. “No problem.”You blink and you’re suddenly lost in them.

The gray of his iris mixed with a hint of light blue, which is apparent if you squint and you can’t help but worship their beauty.Your eyes move to glance at his lips. Pink and plump, with water dripping from his cupid’s bow. You’re not really sure why your eyes suddenly fixate on those, but your heart does seem to race faster and all of a sudden you’re now wondering how soft he would feel against your own lips, your own skin.

Looking back at him, he’s still fixated on you and the two of you are stuck like a photo in time. The only thing that reinforces the notion that you’re not living in a freeze frame is the rush of downpour that streams behind you.

Swallowing thickly, you just wonder…whether…maybe…if you just leaned in to –

You clear your throat suddenly, stepping back and sniffing. You turn away to wipe the tip of your nose.

No. Absolutely not. Get that thought out of your head.

“Sick already?” Levi presumes and there’s a hint of playfulness in his voice.

“Yeah, yeah.” You brush off. “Do you think it’ll ever calm down?”

The rush of downpour continues to aggravate the stone pavement, water dripping off the leaves above.

“Should do.”

“Or should we just run for it?”

“You’ll get sick.”

“Which is inevitable either way I’m sure.” you shrug.

Levi raises a brow. “You sure?”

“Undoubtedly sure.”

“You’ll regret it.”

Rolling your eyes, you begin to step forward where the downpour of rain doesn’t hesitate in drenching you again. “Are you coming or not, Ackerman?”

Rolling his eyes, he follows you, making a mental reminder in his mind to get his favorite stash of tea out when you both get home. Immediately.

And boy, did you regret it.

There’s nothing more you hate in life than being constrained to your bed, with endless tissues that come with an endless amount of sneezes and snot. Not to mention the sore throat or the banging headache that returns every hour even after taking medicine.

But what you hated the most was having to deal with a smugass roommate whom you had to rely on for basic needs. After multiple ‘I told you so’s’ and his own endless amount of complaints and criticism for you, you decided to fulfill his ego and express your regret for your decision.

It was bad enough that you were sick but now you had Levi taking care of you. You were currently under the pretense that he absolutely hated every single moment which, unbeknownst to you, was terribly false.

Entering your room with your third cup of tea this morning, he caught you in the midst of a sneezing fit whilst placing the steaming hot china cup down on your bedside table. And of course he loudly grimaced as he did so.

“Shut up.” you groan, your voice croaky from your illness.

“I–”

“I told you so, yeah, yeah are you finished?”

Levi frowned. “I was going to say that I could get you another pack of tissues if you wanted them?”

“Oh.” you say dumbly. “Right. That would be great thanks.”

Levi quickly disappeared from your room and arrived by the next minute, a new pack of tissues in his hands.

“Sorry.” You mumble, accepting the package.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s really not.” you sigh. “I’ve got you running around the house like a madman all because I’m sick.”

“Again.”

“Again.” you repeat, a small smile appearing across your lips.

“Thank you.” you say, after a long pause of silence.

“For what?”

You roll your eyes, honestly sometimes you really want to smack Levi against the wall. He can be so dense, which is surprising for someone who has achieved the highest grade possible at university.

“For this.” you gesture around. “For helping me out.”

He shrugged. “Nothing I haven’t done before.”

You hummed, “I’m getting pretty used to having you as my slave, maybe I won’t kill you at all.”

Levi clicked his tongue. “Don’t get too comfortable, princess.”

Whether it was the pet name or your fever spiking up again– though you wish to believe the latter– your cheeks suddenly burned and you looked away in hidden embarrassment. You cleared your throat before speaking again.

“I really do mean it though, thank you.”

Levi sat on the edge of your bed. “It’s the bare minimum I can do as your roommate.”

There it goes again. Your constant reminder.

You’re roommates, nothing more, nothing less. At the end of the day, you’re around each other merely because of a single contract.

You’re roommates, this is normal, the bare minimum.

This is what friends do. Not lovers.

Yet… you can’t stop yourself from thinking about if you were. Shaking your head you attempt to pull that thought out of your head. No, no, no, you’re with Daniel. Thinking about Levi? That would be wrong.

But could it be so wrong that he’s the only thing that you can think about late at night?

When you touch yourself underneath the sheets, it’s Levi’s name that you moan softly to yourself, fantasizing over the ways he would touch you. It’s embarrassing to admit but… Daniel’s never managed to please you properly. The only way that you can reach your full release is by imagining if it was Levi.

But it was wrong. So wrong. Yet, you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering.

How would he touch you? What would he feel like? Would he be soft and gentle with you or the complete opposite? What would he sound like when he–

You inhale sharply which catches Levi’s attention.

“You okay?” He asks.

You nod. “Just really cold.” You play off, trying to get rid of that dirty thought about your roommate.

You couldn’t. You were loyal to Daniel, even if he seems to take weeks to respond.

You couldn’t ever because you’re pretty sure Levi doesn’t even feel the same way.

If he did then you would’ve known by now. There would’ve been a hint.

You think back to Valentine’s day. Perhaps if you didn’t have a date with Daniel would he have asked you out?

No. Don’t be stupid. You are roommates.

The number one rule of being roommates is universal: Don’t fall in love with each other.

Snapping you back to reality, Levi picks up the cup of tea on your bedside table.

You cough a little. “Levi, I’m fine, really. You don’t need to babysit me.”

“You can’t murder me if you’re sick right?”

You laugh, which soon falls to a series of heavy coughs. With his free hand, Levi rubs reassuring circles on your back, once you’re alright he holds out the teacup for you to sip. You do so obediently, the hot liquid satisfying your body. You let out a deep exhale, reclining back into your bed.

“So when I get better you’ll watch out?”

He nods, smirking a little. “I’ll always watch out for you. Always.”

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[cressidagrey]

Romance is not dead if you keep it just yours- Chapter 4: Feyre, High Lady of The Night Court (and Nesta, Lady Death…and Bryaxis)

Summary:

5 Times Cassian thought that Azriel had feelings for somebody and then 1 time he finally met the girl his brother was in love with.

Warnings:

Rhys Bashing

Notes:

I put a lot of world building into this. If you don't recognise it from canon, I probably invented. Or I forgot that canon existed.

(thanks to @firefly-graphics for the super pretty dividers!)

He did not figure it out in the weeks that followed. 

He had theories of course. 

For lack of a better idea he was back at Azriel pining for some female he couldn’t have for some reason or another.

Which didn’t make it any easier to narrow down the options. 

It wasn’t like Azriel had ever lacked companionship. If females weren’t outright terrified of him then the chances are they fawned over him. 

But then there was also the fact that…well. Azriel had never seemed to outright have the appetite for female companionship that Cassian and Rhys had over the centuries. His brother had always held himself aloft, removed from it. 

Cassian had never investigated that more thoroughly but now it was there, scratching at the edge of his brain, puzzle pieces without a second one that matched. 

All of it didn’t make sense. He was missing something. And he was sure that it was obvious…

If Azriel was pining over some unavailable female and it wasn’t Mor, then who was it? 

And then Azriel threw a spanner in his theories. 

“Anything else I need to be aware of?”  Rhys asked at their weekly meeting at the River House. Azriel had told him all about Governors that had been making under-the-table deals while Cassian had once again complained about Devlon. 

Some things never changed. 

Cassian shook his head. 

“I need a break.”

The words came so out of left field that Cassian’s jaw dropped. 

But Azriel sat there, staring them both down, jaw set. 

What? 

In all the years that Cassian had known Az…these words had never once left his mouth. 

But there they were. Azriel admitted that he needed a break and dared them to disagree with him. 

What.

 What was happening ? 

“A break?” Rhys repeated, trying his best not to make the surprise show on his face and failing horribly. 

“Yes. Cassian and Nesta took a week in the Illyrian steppes a few months ago. I want a break,” Azriel said, crossing his arms defensively. 

He had taken that break. He had been quite happy about that break as well, but then Cassian had throughout his long life taken more than one break of his own free will. 

The last time the Spymaster of the Night Court had taken a break longer than a few minutes or to sleep…well that was when he had taken a near-fatal injury. And even then, Azriel had been chomping at the bit, unwilling to stay away as long as Madja had wanted him to. 

So for him to just come to them and ask, or demand, a break…that was so unlikely that it scared the shit out of Cassian, to be honest. 

What was going on? 

“You want a break,” Cassian repeated. “Did something happen?” he wondered, looking at Azriel. 

He seemed fine. Granted that didn’t need to mean anything. 

After whatever had gone down between him and Elain, Azriel had a dark circle underneath his eyes for months, and looked like he hadn’t slept a wink during the night. His skin had taken on a near pale shade, or maybe that had just been the shadows that had clung so tightly to the shadowsinger that they had seeingly leeched all his colour and life out of him. 

Even then…even then, Azriel hadn’t wanted a break. 

But now he did. 

Now Azriel wanted a break. 

Azriel met his gaze, his hazel eyes flat. 

“No. I just need a break.”

Do you know what this is about? Cassian mentally asked Rhys who just shook his head, very carefully. 

“I have known you for 500 years and not once have you told us that you need a break ,” Cassian pointed out, trying to be reasonable. Fishing for an explanation, that Azriel didn’t seem willing to give him. 

What had brought this one? What had made Azriel finally admit that he needed a break?

It shouldn’t worry him. It was a healthy development for Azriel to finally figure out some kind of boundaries but…still it did. 

It came out of nowhere. 

“Well, I do !” The way Azriel bit out these words was shocking. Not just to him but also to Rhys. 

I think he really needs that break, Cassian thought quietly. 

“I need a break,” Azriel forced his voice to be quiet, but he was glaring Rhys into submission. 

Agreed. Something is going on. Has he said anything about Esmeray? 

Not to me, Rhys. Could it be Azriel’s mother? There weren’t many things that could make Azriel go quite as feral, but his mother definitely fell into that purview. 

Still…

“So you need a break, Az,” Rhys said, keeping his voice light. “When are you thinking of taking said break?”

“Next week.” The answer came so quickly that Azriel must have thought about it beforehand. 

Is there anything happening next week? Rhys wondered. 

Was there some kind of event or something Azriel could desperately want to attend? Maybe in another court?

Cassian drew a blank. So did Rhys. 

“As long as no new war breaks out, you can have next week. For your break ,” Rhys agreed.  “Do you want the cabin?”

Think he’ll say yes, if it’s about his mom? Cassian wondered. 

“No, thank you,” Azriel turned down Rhys. 

Damnit. That didn’t answer any questions. 

And then before they could properly interrogate their brother, he heard Feyre approach. 

The High Lady of the Night Court settled herself on her mate’s lap that greeted her with a smile. For a moment Cassian missed Nesta. 

“Am I interrupting anything?” Feyre wanted to know. 

Azriel shifted, catching Cassian’s attention. He was watching Rhys and Feyre with a nearly unreadable expression…

But suddenly…suddenly Cassian recognised it. Recognised it as the same expression that he had worn so very often when he had watched Mor for centuries. 

Longing. A secretly held desire. 

It was there, written on his face. Clear as day. 

“Just Az telling us how he needs a break,” Rhys said at that moment. “I think he’s getting soft.”

“A break? You deserve that! Maybe go somewhere warm!” Feyre suggested immediately. 

Azriel’s face morphed at Feyre’s word, softening nearly imperceptively. 

Was it about Feyre or about her suggestion? Cassian didn’t know. Still, it was…curious. 

“I already know where’ll be,” Azriel said quickly. “Feyre, I was wondering…where did you get your table linens from?” 

The conversation topic change was so harsh that Cassian just stared at him. 

What? 

“The table linens?” Feyre asked, sounding as confused as Cassian felt.

“Yes. Table Linens. I need some,” Azriel repeated, sounding certain. 

“You need table linens ?” Cassian asked, making sure that he had gotten that right. Table linens. What was it with Az and his sudden obsession with table linens? It made no sense. 

“There’s this small shop at the rainbow called Clare’s. They have loads of different ones. Unless you mean the ones for huge celebrations then it’s in the Palace of Threads and Jewels,” Feyre answered the question, sounding thoughtful 

“Thank you,” Azriel said primly. 

“Planning on throwing some dinner parties?” Rhys asked

Azriel ignored that. 

“I need to go. I have some table linens to buy.”

And off he went. 

Cassian just stared at him go. 

The feeling that something was wrong burrowing in his gut, the expression of longing still engraved in his mind. 

“Why does he want table linens?” Feyre wondered, sounding perplexed. 

“Something is wrong,” Cassian blurted out. 

Something was really wrong. He didn’t like it on bit. 

“What makes you think that?” Feyre asked him curiously. “Maybe Azriel really just…wants to buy some table linens.”

“He wants to buy bloody table linens!” Cassian snapped. “Rhys! This isn’t normal!” he pointed out to his brother, begging him to understand. Rhys looked thoughtful. 

“He did buy a house,” Rhys pointed out, too damn reasonable. Yes, Azriel had done that but…table linens. Truly? 

“He bought a house?” Feyre asked, curious. “When did he do that? I didn’t know that.” 

“A few months before Elain and Lucien got married,” Cassian answered, with a wave. “It’s near the mountains. It has a lake. It’s nice.”

It was. quite frankly it was nothing like what Cassian had expected Azriel to go for, but his brother had seemed…quite taken with his purchase. 

At least as taken as he had ever seemed with anybody. It was secluded enough that it probably sated some deep-seated desire for privacy from Azriel and with it warded tightly, it would be as good a home for him as any other. 

Though Cassian knew that Azriel had only bought it because he had wanted to get away from Cassian and Nesta and their enthusiastic lovemaking. 

Which again, played into Azriel absolutely hating to be surrounded by happily mated pairs and being alone himself. 

“He took you there?” Rhys asked, surprise apparent in his voice. 

Az hadn’t taken Rhys? 

Well, Azriel had only taken him because he had insisted. “He showed it to me. Or more like I insisted that he showed it to me, because I didn’t want to imagine what Azriel thought were proper living conditions,” Cassian explained with a sigh. Azriel…well, Azriel didn’t expect much from lodgings. Even his house in the townhouse had been bare bones for as long as Cassian could remember. “It had zero furniture but he promised he was going to get some before he moved in,” he said with a shrug. 

Still, he couldn’t imagine Azriel going to a furniture shop, lamenting between fabric swatches and coming out, having purchased a couch. 

“Maybe he just finished furnishing it and now needs table linens,” Feyre offered. “That would make sense,” she points out reasonably. 

Right. Maybe. 

“Azriel is a lot of things, domestic is not one of these,” Rhys agreed with a sigh. “I was already surprised that he bought the house…”

So was Cassian. But then…maybe in some way, it had made sense. Remove himself from more and more things that were…hurting him. Finding himself someplace where it was just Azriel, where he could just be without worrying what anybody else thought. Mope around as much as he wanted, regardless if Rhys thought that he should just get over himself. 

He can’t spend the rest of his life chasing after uninterested females, Rhys said pointedly, having caught some stray thought of his. 

You know very well that Azriel has never done any chasing. He respectfully pines ,” Cassian disagreed. It wasn’t like Azriel was…annoying with his pining. He was quiet and stayed away. And you know that it’s not that easy. You can’t just shut off your feelings when they don’t suit you anymore. 

Mother knew, they both had tried. 

It’s not healthy for him, Rhys said sharply. 

And Cassian had enough. Oh come on, Rhysand, we both know that neither of us should be allowed to pass that judgment, Cassian snapped. 

You both should know that it’s terribly impolite to have a whole conversation that I am not privy to while I am in the room, came Feyre’s amused mental voice. 

“Leave him alone, Rhys. Whatever he does, it has nothing to do with you,” Cassian drawled aloud. 

“Doesn’t it?” Rhys gave back with a sigh. “He’s the Spymaster of this court, he’s…”

“He’s your brother and his private life is absolutely none of your fucking business,” Cassian said tightly. “Unless he’s pining for Feyre…oh.”

Oh. 

That…yeah. 

That would explain the look on Azriel’s face. Why he didn’t came to family dinners as often as he used to anymore. Why he seemed withdrawn and the tension between him and Rhys and…

“No, we are not doing that, Cassian,” Feyre cut him off, sharply. “You literally thought he was in a secret relationship with Eris Vanserra . And now you think Azriel is quietly pining away over me? This is ridiculous,” she spat out. 

“You didn’t see the way he looked at you,” Cassian protested. 

Rhys seemed withdrawn like he wasn’t quite sure what to think about this. 

Feyre just snorted, something akin to amusement on her face. 

“Did it pass your mind for just one moment that that has nothing to do with me personally?” Feyre said sharply. “That maybe whatever way he looked at was him wanting what his brothers had?”

“What do you mean, darling?” Rhys asked, curiosity peaked. What was this about? 

“I think that Azriel wants what his brothers have,” Feyre pointed out quietly. “Don’t you think that he ever wonders why?”

Why? Why what? 

“You are three brothers. Two of them are mated. He isn’t,” Feyre pointed out quietly. “Don’t you think he ever wonders about why he isn’t? Why he doesn’t deserve a bond? Why you two got them but he didn’t?”

It wasn’t anything that Cassian hadn’t also thought about in passing. About how it was fair that Cassian and Rhys had met their mates and Azriel hadn’t. How out of three brothers, two had been mated to two out of three sisters, but the third to another? 

All of it had been there in his brain at one point or another. 

But for Azriel, Azriel that doubted his worth every fucking day in that silent way of his, that tried to prove himself again and again…it must have been just another injustice in a very long, long line of them.

“He does,” Feyre continued. “And I also think that regardless of how happy he is for you, and he is, you know that…there is a part of him that envies both of you,” she said pointedly. “So leave it alone, Cassian. He wants to have a secret relationship? Let him have it. As long as he is happy, I don’t care. Neither should either of you. He deserves whatever happiness he can carve out for himself.”

It was pointed, sharp and cutting. And she was right. Feyre was completely right. 

He couldn’t on one hand tell Rhys that he had no right to judge Azriel’s private life and then himself try and force his brother to admit something he wasn’t ready to. 

“Besides, who’s next on your list of options, Cass? Nesta?  Do you think he is secretly pining for your mate as well?” Feyre continued with a snort. “Quite frankly, she’s a better guess than me. He did buy her these hairpins. That’s more personal than a couple of paints.” 

“He bought Nesta hairpins?” Rhys asked, sounding perplexed. 

“With stiletto blades hidden in them. She loves them,” Cassian admitted with a shrug.

“She does,” Feyre agreed.  “Azriel is one of the few people that Nesta is actually nice to, too. Maybe they are having a torrid love affair and you know nothing about it!” she told him wide-eyed and Cassian glared at her. 

“Not funny,” he told Feyre, who just grinned at him. 

“Maybe Bryaxis is involved too!” she suggested with a gasp. 

He held back a shudder at that. 

“Now you are just being cruel, High Lady,” he told her and she shrugged. 

“From all the options presented today, I think Bryaxis is the most likely,” she said drily. “Just leave him alone. He’ll come to you when he is ready.”

Right.

“I am gonna go spy on Azriel, buying table linens,” Cassian said as he stood up, making Rhys snort and Feyre roll her eyes. 

To his neverending surprise, he actually found Azriel at the first store Feyre had mentioned. 

Azriel came out, laden with a couple of bags and Cassian couldn’t help but stare at him. This was…

Azriel spotted him immediately, looking less than pleased to see him. 

“Did Rhys put you up to it?” he demanded and Cassian blinked. 

What?

“What, no! Why should he do that?” Cassian asked. Why…why would Rhys…

“You tell me,”  Azriel sniped back.“If it’s not Rhys, then what are you doing here? I doubt you wanted to watch me shop for table linens.”

Yeah, he didn’t. But then he didn’t actually think he was gonna find Azriel actually buying table linens.

“You actually bought table linens?” he asked and Azriel rolled his eyes at him. 

“Yes, of course, I bought some. Why do you think I asked Feyre to tell me where to go?” Azriel sighed. “Cassian, do you actually care about that or did you think that me going to find table linens meant that I was going off to find the secret lover you are currently convinced I have for some cauldron-forsaken reasons?”

Right. 

This wasn’t about that secret lover that may or not exist. This was way more important. This was about Azriel. 

“For cauldron’s sake Azriel, I am worried about you!” Cassian snapped. This was about his brother . Azriel just stared at him. 

“Why?” Azriel asked, sounding like he couldn’t for the life of him understand why Cassian cared. 

“Why?” Cassian repeated sharply. “You don’t talk to me, or anybody, you don’t say anything, you disappear from family dinners and now you suddenly want a break! What’s going on?” Cassian demanded. 

Azriel was silent, deep in thought. 

“What’s going on, Az? Come on, you know you can talk to me,” Cassian said softly. 

What was really going on? Was this about Azriel’s mother?

“I know,” Azriel said, his voice quiet.” But right now, I was really just buying table linens,” he insisted. 

Cassian would have liked to shake some sense into him but he didn’t. 

“I am not letting this go,” he said, resolvement growing. Something was going on and he was going to figure it out. He would be there for his brother, damnit. 

A tiny smile appeared on Azriel’s face. 

“I wouldn’t expect anything else,” Azriel promised. 

“So what kind of table linens did you buy?” Cassian asked him, curious. What kind of table linens did Azriel think were appropriate for his house? 

Azriel just sighed. 

Cassian did not actually get an answer out of him. He did get the promise of a sparring match the next morning and then Azriel had a lunch he had to get to with a friend .  

For a moment Cassian played with the thought of following along and making a pest out of himself. 

But he didn’t. Maybe he was having lunch with some High Fae Female he met in Velaris and was stupidly in love with. Somebody that loved Azriel and appreciated him as much as he should be. 

Maybe that was it.

Cassian wished that for his brother. 

[thenon-fictiondays]

Hirano to Kagiura light novel translation 4-3

Chapter 4: Fall.

Part 3

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The cultural festival is 10 days away.

The deadline for ordering materials and ingredients has passed, and they have finally reached the peak of making sign boards and interior decorations.

At this time of year alone, many students come to school on the weekends. They should hope to finish preparing by today or tomorrow after school, but they can’t take time away from club activities.

Cultural clubs also have opportunities to present their club activities, and athletic clubs have long practices throughout the year. Making the most of one’s time in the midst of all this is in line with the school’s culture of valuing independence—or so one might think, but this tight schedule is the reason why each and every one of the executive committee members’ grades are allegedly dropping.

Midterm exams themself are next month, but they’re going to cover a lot of material. The contrast with the first semester, which had two rounds of exams in a short cycle, has even Hirano letting out a sigh.

At any rate, high school is much more challenging as a whole compared to middle school. Their teachers tell them to go visit their dream schools’ open campus days and school fairs, and in the same breath warn them that their comprehension level here will reflect in their scores on the national practice exam.

Autumn tends to be a hectic time, for second years and first years alike.

“Hirano-san, apparently there’s gonna be another typhoon in our area the day after tomorrow.”

His kouhai had come home looking restless; lately his mood has been going from sunny to rainy and back again in perfect tandem with the weather report.

Even Kagiura, who has been in a rush of busyness come second semester, has taken on a certain air of dignity in Hirano’s eyes, but right now it’s like he’s a child again. It’s as if every day is just before a field trip.

“That figures, at this time of year.”

“I wonder if next weekend will be okay…” His sigh is punctuated with a dry cough, and he fishes a lozenge out of his pocket. Maybe his throat is bothering him.

“Who knows? Well, there’s a backup day in case the festival day gets rained out.”

“Was last year okay?”

A clacking sound comes from Kagiura’s mouth, as if the lozenge knocked against his teeth.

“Hmm, how was it…I don’t remember, so prob’ly nothing happened.”

“The teacher did say it’ll only be canceled in case of heavy rain, so it seems like we’ll use the space below the gym or something, but I feel like we all might not fit…”

“Oh, right. So that’s what the courtyard booths are gonna do, huh? Sorry, I dunno.”

“I gotcha. Thanks anyway!”

“Speaking of which, have you guys worked out the schedule for your shifts yet? If I’m gonna go, I might as well go when you’re gonna be there.”

“We have, but…if we’re gonna coordinate, then I want to go around the festival with you.”

“Me?”

“I know this is last-minute, so if you already have someone else to go with, I’m cool with it.”

Yeah, that’s definitely the face of someone who’d be cool with it.

His kouhai’s expression has immediately gotten pouty, and Hirano isn’t sure if he’s going to give up quickly or dig his heels in.

“Maybe in the morning, then. All the stalls that have food are gonna be pretty crowded around noon, so I wanna get something to tide me over before then. Scout out where you wanna go ahead of time. I’ll keep an eye out, too.”

“Sure!”

Hirano opens a question packet so he doesn’t disturb Kagiura, who’d sat at his desk after declaring then I’m gonna do homework until dinnertime! The pauses between the sounds of the mechanical pencil scratching haltingly over the paper are punctuated with the occasional cough.

Like raindrops dripping on a rainy day, the slow moment stretches on, until he’s almost in a trance.

When Hirano, who’s gotten a bit worried, strains to listen, it seems like Kagiura’s drinking a lot more water than normal.

That’s understandable, he thinks.

The summer heat is still going strong; this kind of weather makes you want to jump in a pool during the daytime, while the days that turn into chilly nights are growing more frequent. 

Kagiura may be physically fit, but this can’t be an easy time for him, what with him bustling around for the festival executive committee and working up a sweat at morning and evening practices.

At the moment, it might just be a sore throat, but he’s the type that doesn’t know his own limits, so he needs to take care of himself before it turns into a full-on cold.

He’s probably stupidly resilient, though.

*****

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As always, huge thank you to reading list members @jeizet, @jujupanic, @massyworld, @umbreonwolfy, @acidsuzanne-blog, @neoday, @lary-the-lizard, @tsmginc 💖 you guys rock also sorry for tagging you in a post I immediately deleted lmao

[sapphicsandscience]

20 questions for fic writers

Not going to lie - no one tagged me in this lol - but I am doing it .

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

47.

2. What's your total ao3 word count?

322,829.

Crazy number for me. I know some have literal millions but I can’t believe I’ve written that much in like the last two or three years??

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently Star Trek (TNG/VOY/PIC & some DS9). ER and Criminal Minds more so in the past. But ER I’ll never leave you.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Aster

- my labor of love - no pun intended.

- i WILL finish her (manifest it pls).

A Flame In Your Heart

- going to be honest writing post s3 isn’t something that interests me the most.

- however, this is a cute story and i wish i had some more ideas for it as i feel like i lack direction.

I Should Have Moved Moons For You

- ahhh.

- a fic I really should have pre-written before posting but i do have fun with it.

- i am half confident she will be finished in time but it stresses me out thinking about it and my outline lol.

- but like most of my WIPs the chapters are all outlined and i do have semi-concrete endings for them or at least know the main plot.

A Lot Of Things Can Happen In Two Months

- like the concept but i think i could have written it better ?

- feels a bit messy but also there are a lot of feelings in it.

- but happy i got it finished !! and i am proud of it overall.

Eighteen Minutes

- ngl I forgot I wrote this lol.

- the only one-shot here.

- def benefited kudos wise from being posted after the second episode aired.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes! And I love to give comments regardless if I get a reply from the author. But personally, I like to reply back as the commenter has taken their time to do this. And you can have some really lovely and funny interactions in the comments haha … I just love talking about fic.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Well…it would have to be either of the ones I killed Beverly in - Last contact or Too Late.

Not sure which is more angstiest?

However, as for a multichap ending that ends the most angstiest and wasn’t written to be a character-death-fic - maybe - A Lot Of Things Can Happen In Two Months. Which sucks cause it’s pretty much canon compliant LOL.

Hmm now I am tempted to write another multichap with a less than happy ending…

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Most of my fics that have an ‘ending’ are WIPS that I haven’t finished yet lol.

But maybe Our Turn - it’s just Beverly and Jean-Luc enjoying everything wonderful in their lives <3

8. Do you get hate on fic?

Not really - I doubt anyone cares enough lol. But I am ‘fortunate’ that some of the more ‘controversial’ ships I may write have had writers come before me and take the brunt of any crap :(( but they’ve created a lovely sandbox for the rest of us to play in <3

9. Do you write smut?

Not often but I have yeah…and *deep breaths* … I have no idea if I am even acceptable at it LOL. It’s definitely something I sometimes want to add to my fics and lately I’ve been giving in a little.

Okay, someone tell me if I am terrible and I will stop.

10. Do you write crossovers?

It’s not my go to thing but yes I have. Including the fusion ER/TNG fic that three people have probably read (but three people I love).

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No but that would be cool as!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! With my lovely and supportive ER fic buddies ❤️

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Not sure how best to answer this. It is very dependant on my current hyperfixation and I am one of those sapphics that very much is into the woman more than the man in terms of interest in f/m ships…

However, at the moment it’s Beverly/Jean-Luc and I can say I am definitely more invested and interested in Jean-Luc’s character than I have been with other men in f/m ships. So that’s another reason.

But I love to read/write Crusher/Janeway ❤️ and LOVE those characters. Kerry/Sandy too is special to me.

Can honestly say apart from helping me give Emily Prentiss a baby in my fics I never cared that much for any of her ships I wrote (sorry 😭).

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but probably won't?

Probably better I don’t answer this. It stresses me out cause I want them all to be done 😭

I’ll answer with a WIP I never posted which was a dystopian AU with Kerry and Sandy. Field medicine, babies (it’s me so ofc) and friends trying to survive together.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Hmm - I think I can come up with some good ideas. I can be good at description and introspection … probably more than dialogue.

And I am very strong in the art of giving Beverly Crusher lots of babies. And also making her go through angsty stuff. But I make up for that with the babies I think.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Long intricate plots ? I would love to be better as balancing many themes and plot points in one story. I struggle with dialogue sometimes as well.

Also I am very word count preoccupied at times which is a hindrance as a writer. I sometimes really struggle to get anything out in a session then can overcompensate later by writing too much? But honestly either way I just let myself go with the flow these days otherwise I stress about it.

Yeah and I probably need to edit better.

And smut.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Is this controversial?? I don’t have any issue with it.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

(redacted)

20. Favourite fic you've written?

These are both not what I would consider my best work (idk what that even is) but probably Gone (Ice)fishing or It Takes A Village.

Both were written as gifts and out of my comfort zone (for different reasons) but I am really proud of them both.

But I also love some of my Kerry/Sandy one-shots I did here on this blog. And Aster is definitely a personal accomplishment in terms of length as a writer. I love it too ❤️.

Oh, also - To Build A Home - cause it’s tragic & angsty but also BABY🥹 - it’s just my brand.

—————————————————

Okay -I’ll shut up now.

Anyone feel free to do this and tag me.

[casicroaks]

At the insistence of his new friends, Woody finally opens up about his life previous to Andy. Meanwhile, as Bo discovers there was so much that was left unsaid between them, she resolves to follow his example -and tell him what she truly went through, between being taken to a new family and finding her own capacity for independence.

CHAPTER 2

[ CHAPTER 1 // CHAPTER 2 // CHAPTER 3 // CHAPTER 4 // CHAPTER 5 // CHAPTER 6 // CHAPTER 7 // CHAPTER 8 // CHAPTER 9 // CHAPTER 10 // CHAPTER 11 // CHAPTER 12 ]

"Wait a second," Giggle interrupted. "When…? So you were first given to this Davy kid in 1952, right?"

"Yeah, that's right," said Woody.

"So… When's this chapter? The, like…?" Giggle tried to count with her minuscule fingers. "So if Davy finished high school…"

"1975?" asked Duke.

"No, uh…" Woody thought for a moment, rubbing his nape. "I guess… The late sixties?"

Giggle and Duke exchanged glances.

"Remember anyone from the sixties?"

"… Bolt-O," said Duke. "I'm pretty sure he's from around that time."

"Yes, that sounds about right," agreed Giggle.

"You spent quite some years on that shelf, then," said Bo to Woody. He shrugged it off with a smile.

"Bah, they went by fast. And after I saw little Jenny, you know, at least I knew what I was waiting for."

Anyway, no matter exactly at what time in history Jenny's infancy happened, a baby in the Oakley home meant a lot more noise and movement. From his shelf in the studio Woody could clearly hear Lillian carrying a shrieking Jenny down the stairs, taking her to the kitchen to feed her, singing sweet little songs to her to calm down her crying. She used to sing the same two songs, but Jenny was not very choosy. Lillian soon got the hang of it and while Jenny still woke up screaming –Woody wondered if even that young she could have nightmares, and doubted the pink puppy plush toy did anything to truly comfort her –the baby's mother was quick to learn how to appease her and entertain her. While Davy was working in his studio, Woody's attention drifted away from the designs his old kid was occupied with and listened, very attentively, to what Jenny liked and what she didn't. Lillian talked to her in a slow, sing-songy voice, repeating everything, apparently to make sure Jenny knew what she meant. After all, Woody thought, babies do indeed don't know how to speak.

Davy soon began leaving the house more often –as if he had gone back to school; a comment at the dinner table let Woody know that Davy had managed to get the job he had applied for. The cowboy felt happy for him –but couldn't help to agree with Lillian when she told him that he ought to help more in the house, that she could barely keep up with everything she had to do. Woody remembered how Davy had to learn to fend for himself when his mother left that faraway autumn, and was certain that he'd tell Lillian he'd lend a hand –but then he lied –he lied! –and told Lillian he had never cooked in his life, and joked that he was afraid he'd poison everyone with what he might manage to prepare. Lillian chuckled, sighed and left the subject.

Woody spent that whole night asking himself why Davy had lied to his wife.

And so it was (like before) Mom, Woody and the kid, little Jenny Oakley, left in the house. Once he got a good idea of when Davy –Dad, he had to remember –left for work and when Mom made the beds and cleaned the rooms and bathroom, Woody would climb down the shelf. He had learnt that if he went forward to the shelf next to his and took a small leap to get to the top of the library, he could get to the floor much easier, taking fewer risks. He would sometimes look around the living room, trying to get a glimpse of Jenny, to see whether she was playing with any new toys –perhaps Christmas or a birthday had come and he had been asleep and missed it –and attempt to guess how old she was now. Woody was getting anxious. He recalled how, in the box, it had once said for ages 3 and up; surely, when she became three years old, that was when Davy would give him to her. Perhaps he'd mock-wrap him and give Jenny his childhood toy for her birthday; Woody fantasized with repeating that wonderful first he had had with little Davy.

Why did Jenny took so long to grow up, when Davy had done so much, much quicker?

Jenny demanded much more from her Mom than Davy did, as well; sometimes Lillian would lose her patience and start yelling at the baby, and those times –when there were only screams and shouting –made Woody remember the fighting between the parents when Davy was a boy. Luckily Jenny would cry, and Lillian would then comfort her, and it would soon be over. But it was clear in her mother's voice, just how taxing baby Jenny could be. Woody was a bit worried she may be more than he could handle.

But then again, the next day, he'd head her Mom playing with her, tickling her and singing her songs and he'd hear the baby's laughter, and he'd imagine her high lilting voice saying "Giddy up, partner!" just like Davy did, and she'd imitate the sound of galloping horses and he'd be the sheriff of the room. Woody could hardly wait.

With the passing of days, and different milestones being reached –Jenny saying her first words, her first steps, her first haircut, her third birthday –Jenny became less of a possibility of a new owner and became more and more a certainty; any day now, Woody thought, just any day now, and Davy would take him down that shelf. He no longer dared to step down through the library, nor to take a peek at the kitchen –even less climb up the stairs; now Mom spent the whole day cleaning or cooking, and Jenny spent the better half of the day also all around the house. Her mother had been right; she was a rowdy one. She was often calling her mother to pay attention to her, either by pure persistence or by loud shrieks. She run up and down the stairs, skipping a step, sometimes tripping and falling and laughing instead of moaning in pain. She was boisterous, treading heavy when playing with her toys –she did have toys up there! –and yelling commands and dialogues. Jenny's mother would often berate her but in a much more different way than Davy's Mom did; this new Mom would tell Jenny to be quieter, to be careful with her clothes, to brush her hair before going out. It seemed all mothers were this preoccupied with being neat, thought Woody.

Once, taking him by surprise, Woody saw Jenny coming into her father's studio. He could finally take a look at her. She could walk, and now had hair the color of straw, and just as unruly as straw, too. She had a few pearly whites, just barely visible when she flashed a little excited smile. While Davy was working on one of his designs, Jenny walked in –without asking, without even knocking.

"Look, dad, look!" she said, raising a piece of paper. "Look, I made you!"

"You did, now?" asked Davy, smiling too. "Let me see –oh, my goodness, that is me! And who's this?" he asked, pointing at another figure in the drawing.

Little Jenny laughed. "You know…!"

"Do I?"

"Yes! You know!"

"Is it mom?"

"Yes!"

"And this one, in the middle? She's a bit short, isn't she?"

"No, I'm tall!" cried Jenny.

"Yes –but is this you?" asked Davy. "Is this Jenny?"

"Yes, it's me!" she said, pointing at the drawing too. "And this is Ann, and this is Barr…"

"Wow, Barr is really tall!"

"She is!" said Jenny, defending her drawing. "But I'm tall. I'm more tall."

"Yes, you are," laughed Davy. "May I keep this, please?"

"Hm…" said Jenny, crossing her arms. "Hmmmm…"

Davy lost his smile. "Please, don't make me beg."

Jenny laughed. Woody noticed she had a very easy, lively laughter. He decided he liked her already. "It's for you!"

"Aw, thanks, darling," said Davy, kissing her on the forehead. "I've got to keep working, alright, Jenny?"

"Can we watch TV?" she asked.

"Later, alright? I've got to finish a thing I'm working on. I promise we'll watch TV later."

"Promise?" insisted Jenny.

"I promise, darling," he said with a smile, and so, satisfied, Jenny smiled, too.

"Jenny, baby, leave dad alone, okay?" said Lillian, calling her from the living room. She obeyed her mother.

Davy chuckled. He thought for a moment. He took a few sketches off his corkboard to make place for the drawing, and pinned Jenny's drawing there, above his desk. From that moment on, each time Davy went into the studio and turned on the light, he saw the drawing and smiled a little. Woody expected this could help him realize how happy he could make her, giving him to her.

It made Woody quite relieved to realize that Davy was a much more loving father than his father was. While Lillian did spend the most time at home with Jenny, when Davy came back from the office where he worked Jenny would always run to the door to give him a hug, and by the sound of it, he was hugging her too. During weekends, they'd go to the movies –Woody imagined it was like the TV, but even bigger –or to the park, or to have some ice cream. Sometimes, Mom would go too. It all seemed much happier, overall, than when he had first arrived. Woody hoped this meant Jenny would be happier, too.

And a few week after her fourth birthday, the moment came.

Woody had been sitting on his shelf, as usual, still slightly disappointed that Davy hadn't given him to Jenny as a birthday gift. But then Jenny came into the studio, with a plastic horse in her hand. Woody stared at them, wondering if they could talk.

Davy continued his sketching, ignoring her. Jenny, on the tip of her toes, tried to get a look at what her father was working on. She spent some time looking at his hand swishing around the paper, and soon got bored and looked around.

"I made that drawing," Jenny said quietly to the horse, pointing at the drawing on Davy's corkboard. From behind him, she couldn't see it, but Woody noticed Davy's smile.

She continued looking around, at the things arranged on the desk, at the books in the library –hanging her head sideways to try and read the names on the spines –and then she looked up, higher, until her eyes finally –finally –set on Woody.

"Dad, what's that?" she asked, pointing at him. Woody yeehawed and whooped silently, truly straining not to move a single fiber of his being. This was it.

Davy looked up. He got off his chair –he stood up –and picked Woody from the shelf.

"This old thing?" said Davy. "He's Woody –oh, dang, your mom forgot to dust it," he said, blowing the dirt off his hat. "He was my favorite toy when I was little," He then looked back to Jenny. "Do you want to see it?"

Jenny swayed from side to side, saying nothing. For a moment Woody thought that perhaps –since Mom had forgotten to dust him and if he seemed too dirty and shabby –then she'd say something like 'no, he's an ugly old thing, put it back on the shelf', and then –then…

But luckily, Jenny smiled and reached out. Woody went from Davy's –now, definitely, Dad's –hands to Jenny's. She inspected him carefully, taking off his hat and fitting it again, putting her small fingers around the sheriff badge, wiping the dust off it. She turned him around to find the white ring, and pulled his string, and Woody said There's a snake in my boot! Jenny chuckled.

"Would you look at that, the voice box's still working," said Davy, rather surprised.

"He's funny," said Jenny. "Woody?"

"Sheriff Woody, that's his name," said Davy, and Woody was moved to notice (or at least he wished to notice) a tinge of nostalgia in his voice. "There was this old TV show… Bah, doesn't matter. You like him?"

Jenny nodded. "He's just like the guy in that movie we watched."

"Which guy?"

"You know… The cowboy. The one with the horse."

Davy laughed. "Alright, I think I know which one."

Jenny smiled at Woody. Davy, in the meantime, watched them both.

"… Would you like to keep him, darling?"

Jenny looked at her father.

"Of course, you must promise to be careful with him."

"Alright," said the girl.

"Will you be careful?"

"Yes, dad."

"Promise?"

He was to become Jenny's toy –but even still, Davy –Dad –still cared for him.

"Yes, dad, I promise."

Davy smiled. "Alright, then. Go on, I've to finish this."

Jenny smiled widely, showing her budding teeth. And then, she ran out the small studio, away from the shelf, and through the living room filled with sunlight, and then she ran up the stairs –and Woody felt like he was flying, soaring through the air –and landed on Jenny's room.

It had changed a lot since his days as Davy's toy. The wallpaper, the furniture, everything was different, to accommodate a young girl's tastes. She had a small collection of six horses of varied sizes and colors –some of them seemingly hand-painted by their owner –standing all together in a spot on the brown carpet. The bed had a floral print and a white wire headboard, with a matching little nightstand. Beyond the bedding and the dust-pink curtains, the toys were another thing entirely. Woody had expected several dolls, all primped and dressed up, like the nasty puppy had said some time ago. He could only spot four of them: a flat plastic doll –which, disturbingly, looked almost like if a regular doll had been crushed or stamped brutally –two ragdolls, made entirely out of cloth –and a Barbie, the one he had heard so much from the TV commercials. She was very thin, entirely made of plastic, with long black eyelashes and long, tangled blond hair. Curiously, this doll wasn't dressed like the others in old-timey dresses: this Barbie had a long black overcoat, a black hat, a white top brown boots and black pants.

Besides these dolls there were a few smaller dolls with childlike faces, chubby cheeks and adorned with fabric flowers as hats; a baby doll, with an uncanny resemblance to baby Jenny; and another disturbing image, a similarly childlike doll but with a deformed grin and colorful, messy hair.

No matter, Woody thought, feeling thoroughly out of his depth. He had managed a room before, this wouldn't be that different just because there were more people to keep track of. And, if the horses and the black-hatted Barbie were any indication, Jenny had inherited her father's love of the Wild West.

"There's a new sheriff in town," said Jenny in a low voice, moving Woody around the horses and the dolls. Woody thought, that's right. If said from her own mouth, there'd be little doubts regarding his authority. "So I hope you all are ready to see some law and order put into this place."

Jenny immediately grabbed one of the ragdolls. "Finally, the post office heard our pleas!" she said, in a high voice. "At last, the horses will be safe again…"

And then Jenny began humming a song. Woody was left on the carpet, just like the ragdoll, as the little girl hurried to grab the Barbie and sit her on the biggest horse. "Not if I'm here," she said, moving the Barbie's head. "I see we got a sheriff now," said Jenny, in a slow Southern drawl. "Well, we're gonna see how that turns out, won't we, Bella?"

Jenny let out a sinister neigh as she moved Bella, swaying the horse's long braided hair. So the Barbie was the villain, thought Woody. He should have guessed by the black hat.

"Jenny, come to dinner!" called Mom from downstairs. "And wash your hands!"

"In a minute!" cried Jenny in response. "Don't dare think this' the end of it, sheriff," she continued, again with the Southern accent. "You'll soon see who's the fastest, quickest, swiftest shooter in the whole land."

"Jenny!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" she said, dropping her toys and running downstairs.

Silence. A few seconds passed.

The first to move was Bella, having to make some effort to get back on his hooves.

"Hey, Barb, help me out with this knot –will you," he said, cocking his head.

"She's a kiddo, you can't expect her to braid like her mother," said the Barbie.

While they were occupied with that, two of the smaller dolls helped Woody back on his feet.

"Oh –thanks," he said.

"What's your name, Mr Sheriff?" asked one of the ragdolls.

"I'm Woody. Sheriff Woody," he corrected himself. "I used to be Davy's toy."

"Who's Davy?" the ragdoll asked.

"He's Jenny's father."

"Oh! You mean Dad," laughed the ragdoll.

"Yes –Dad," Woody said.

"Well, welcome to the great old town of Jackalope, Mr Woody," said the ragdoll. "My name's Felicity, and these are—"

"Please address me as Sheriff Woody," asked Woody. "Or Sheriff, for short."

Felicity looked at him up and down, unimpressed.

"… Alright, as you wish. These are Polly," and she gestured at a ragdoll with black yarn hair. "And Annie-Lou," she gestured at the ragdoll with blond braids and a large straw hat.

"Pleasure to meet you, Sheriff," said Annie-Lou, taking a bow.

Woody tipped the edge of his hat in return. Felicity then gestured at the shorter plastic dolls.

"And these sweet babes are Rosy, Sunny and Tiny."

All three, the one dressed in red, the one dressed in yellow and the one dressed in purple also took a bow. Woody tipped his hat again, but also took a little bow, wondering if that was the correct greeting now.

"This is Joey –he manages the horses during playtime," said Felicity, gesturing at the grinning, crazy-haired fella, who also, of course, took a bow –and Woody was already too distracted by the cowgirl-outfitted Barbie and her steed to focus on the rest of the toys in Jenny's room. "And this pretty lady is Sophie –she's our head of security and rescue…" By this point Felicity also noted Woody wasn't really paying attention.

"These are –a lot of names to keep track of," commented Woody, still with his gaze fixed on the tall blond doll.

"Yes, but you'll get the hang of it –right, sheriff?" said Felicity, more than a bit annoyed. "Right?"

"What? Ah, yes…" said Woody, and then pointed –as politely as he could –to the Barbie and the horse. "Tell me –who is she?"

"She is public enemy number one, notorious thief and outlaw Barbara Ann "Bandit" Barlow," said Felicity. "Barbara Ann to her friends, Barb to her real close friends."

"So she's the villain, I assume," said Woody. It was a bit strange for him to have a gal as a villain, but he supposed it shouldn't present any problems.

"Villain? Oh, sheriff, things don't work like that here," said Felicity, clearly holding back a chuckle.

Woody frowned. "Oh, how so?"

"Barbara Ann is the leader of the pack," said Felicity, pointing at her. "She's Jenny's favorite. And she knows it –you weren't thinking you'd just strut in and get top billing, didya, sheriff?"

Oh. So that was how things were.

"Please –excuse me a moment, Frances," said Woody as he hurried away from her and towards Barbara Ann.

By the time he was less than two steps from her, the big horse let out a loud neigh. Woody automatically jumped back –and tripped over his legs –and fell to the brown carpet. Barbara Ann let out an amused snort.

"Hello there, sheriff," she said, putting her hands on her hips. "Just a piece of advice, you shouldn't get too close to soon to Bella, he's a jittery fella."

"You scared me," said Bella in a low voice.

"Well I –I'm Sheriff Woody Pride, miss," said Woody, still unsure of how precisely he would make Barbara Ann come to her senses and realize that as the eldest toy and as Dad's previous favorite, he probably should get at least shared authority on the room –but trusting he'd come up with something. "And I was Dad's previous…"

"Yeah, I heard," said Barbara Ann. "You aren't a quiet speaker, are you, mister?"

"That's sheriff Woody—"

"I know, I know –cut the crap, sheriff," sighed Barbara Ann. "Listen now, I'm not in the mood to deal with this right now, you get me? Leguizamo here," and she made a gesture to one of the horses, a brown one with white spots, the only one who was still perfectly still. "Is still in pain and healing from her broken leg, and we're running out of Band-Aids, and the tape is below in Dad's studio, where we can't go… And as if that were all, our last newcomer, Sophie, suffered some kind of shock coming here and won't talk to us –which is an issue, since Felicity decided to name her our head of security –without even asking me—"

"Would you rather I be head of security?" asked Woody.

Barbara Ann turned to look at him. "What'd you say?"

"I've gone up and down these stairs a few times. When we're not in playtime, I can help with that…" he said. It was already clear to him that Barbara Ann wasn't very patient (was that a normal trait in girls?) and if she was indeed the favorite, it would do him no good to get on her bad side. "That way you and Faith can try to find some job that shocked gal could be useful in."

Barbara Ann, to his surprise, smiled. "That's quick thinkin', sheriff. I like that in a toy," She did indeed carry that Southern drawl even out of playtime. "It's a matter of time, here, mister. Whether you're quick enough to get to your spot –whether you manage to take care of yourself…"

"This new sheriff is mighty dusty, Barb," said Bella, sniffing Woody's dusty vest.

"If you get too dirty too fast, too broken too quickly, then that's one way ticket to the dumpster, mister," said Barbara Ann. "If I were you I'd take care not to get these feathers too ruffled."

"Oh –miss, if you could tell me—"

"It's Barbara Ann to you, sheriff Woody," she said. "No missies to me."

"Alright…" Woody thought that name was too much of a mouthful, but –what else could he do? "Is there a pink dog plush toy here? I've met her a few years ago, and—"

By Barbara Ann and Bella's expression, something had happened to her –and it sure didn't look pretty.

"Yeah –Peggy, we called her," said Bella, hanging his head.

"Peggy was Jenny's first toy. Ever since she was a baby…" Barbara Ann let out a chuckle. "Gosh, she was a handful, you know. But she didn't deserve what she got…"

"What happened to her?"

Barbara Ann looked at Woody straight in the eye.

"It got dirty, and ripped, and forgotten under the couch," she said gravely. "We tried getting a rescue mission to get her back to the room, or at least to sneak her with the rest of the dirty laundry –but Mom found her, and…"

"She was dirty and broken beyond recognition," murmured Bella. "A shadow of her former self."

"Hear, hear," said Barbara Ann, gently patting Bella's hide. "Peggy was tossed into the garbage. We never heard from her again."

Woody gulped. He had hated that plush toy –listening baby Jenny laughing, probably playing with her, delaying his arrival into Jenny's life –and he had wished the pink puppy would just leave –but he never wished for something like this.

"I'm sorry," said Woody, the only thing he thought he could say.

"Let it serve us as a warning," said Bella. "That we shall never be lost on the lower floor; that we shall never become lost toys."

"Hear, hear," said Barbara Ann again, sighing. "If we take care of ourselves and of each other, Peggy's parting won't have been for nothing."

Woody took a moment to put himself in Barbara Ann's boots. He imagined what would have happened if the plush toys in Davy's room –heck, even someone closer to him like Applebite or Professor Atom –had been thrown away on his watch. By the time Davy's mom had decided to dispose of them, they had barely exchanged any words with Woody –and neither Woody nor any of the other toys in Davy's room really had any system to help the other if one became lost or ripped or especially stained. He should have thought of that as soon as he got there, Woody thought bitterly. But then again, he was a wide eyed young buckaroo, fresh out of his box, just arriving to his new home. How could he have known what was expected of him so soon?

Jenny came back after dinner, meaning to keep playing for a bit more; but Dad –now, definitely, Dad –ordered her to brush her teeth and get some sleep. So Jenny did so, changed into her star-print pajamas and snuggled under her floral quilt next to Barbara Ann "Bandit" Barlow, while Woody –thankful to be played with again, thankful for having been seen and accepted and included, despite it not being what he had expected –spent the night not in a shelf, but in a toy box.

[reddy-reads]

Solstice Wood, Patricia A McKillip

Okay I finished the book!

Thoughts (and spoilers) under the jump

1. I wasn’t sure I was going to finish it. I bought it months ago, possibly even a year ago, and it sat about 1/3 read on my nightstand for months--that usually bodes ill. Then, of course, I decided to make it the November book so that, one way or another, it’d be taken care of by the end of this month.

2. I picked this book up more-or-less at random after seeing it discussed in a thread about “books that have a magic system that hinges on something ordinary/everyday rather than Great and Obscure Spells” (a la Tamora Pierce’s Circle of Magic books). In this case, the magic is worked through needlework and threadcraft--the witches’ coven in the book is the local Fiber Arts Guild. They work their magic through sewing, quilting, crochet, knitting, macrame... and they use it to maintain and defend the boundaries between the mundane world and the Fair Folk.

3. The magic system is awesome! What we see of it. It’s not explained much, but it does get some description, and I loved that. The plot is... okay? Like I said, I plowed through a little less than half of it and then didn’t feel the need to finish it. Normally my favorite books get their momentum up before then. But more on this in a second.

The chapters are have varying character POVs, but it’s not really used to a super amazing extent (for the most part). If it wasn’t for the chapter headings like “Chapter 2: Steve” I’m not sure I could have told you who was narrating which chapters? Not to toot my own horn but I think even I have stretched myself a lot re: having the narration be really flavored by the POV character, and I think the characters’ voices could have been more deeply developed.

3b: Plot: having damned with faint praise re: plot and pacing just now, I will say that when I did pick the book back up again, the book did start to snap along pretty well. When the changeling appears, things really get moving. I think I said something like “oh man I hopped off too early this is actually kinda good,” so if you can get over that hump, it’s easy to finish. That said, I really don’t think authors generally intend for their books to sag in the early-middle.

4: Philosophically speaking, I did like the conclusion. Instead of ending in a big battle or dramatic sacrifice or big violent orgy, the book wraps with the matriarch of the family (and the head of the Fiber Arts Guild)... changing her mind. She has a perspective change, and she changes her previous stance of “the Fae must be kept out at any cost, they can never never never be allowed in our world” to “maybe we can see what happens if we stop reinforcing our spells. Maybe we can see if they’re as dangerous as we always believed, or if they’re only as dangerous as human people.” She doesn’t do a full 180 and suddenly embrace Them, but she does realize that maybe, in keeping out what she is afraid of, she is also keeping out too much. (Also, a great number of people she cares about turn out to be either part-fae or in love with a fay, so she changes her mind largely for them because she doesn’t want to drive them away any farther than she already has.) And I do love a book that has that sort of shift at its heart.

5: In conclusion: I’m glad I read the book, I’m glad I stuck with it and finished it. It definitely has some good points, and I think they largely outweigh the so-so things about it. But I’m not keeping the book, and I’m not sure I’d recommend it. It feels like a “if this seems like your kind of story, go for it. But if you’re not quite sold on it, maybe just see if you can get a library copy.”

And that’s November’s book: Solstice Wood, Patricia A McKillip.

[dingdongsnogbox]

Bedtime Stories

Chapter: 2/?

Rating: M

Word Count: 1891

Description: When the Doctor shows up at Clara’s flat one Wednesday afternoon, he’s surprised to find the place empty. Deciding to wait for her to return home, he takes it upon himself to occupy his time by routing through her things. What happens when he stumbles upon a racy book stashed underneath Clara’s pillow?

Author’s Note: So apparently I wrote most of this a year ago and only just found it lying around on my computer... 20 minutes later and I’ve finished it off and now it’s here for anyone who’s still interested in reading this story. I think the award for the longest time taken to update a fanfic ever definitely goes to me...

The Doctor strides up to the TARDIS console purposefully and promptly pulls down on the leaver to send the ship into flight. He doesn’t go far; just takes her to drift in the vortex. Sort of like the equivalent of storming out of one’s own home, only to find one has nowhere to go and winding up hovering about outside uselessly. The Doctor has never been particularly good at storming off and thinks he’s done well to even dematerialise the TARDIS out of Clara’s flat.

“Well, I think I’ve certainly surpassed myself in terms of downright stupid ideas today, hey old girl?” He gazes up at the ceiling of the console room as he finally acknowledges the sheer idiocy of the situation he’s landed himself in. In response, he feels something distinctly resembling amusement tickle the edges of his mind from his ship. The Doctor rolls his eyes. “I should have known you’d be on her side. You women are always ganging up on me.” He remarks as he spins away from the console.

Now all he has to do is solve this mess he’s gotten himself into. There is of course the option of taking a quick trip into the distant future, finding an erotic novel and passing it off as something he’d written himself, but somehow the Doctor can’t quite bring himself to deceive Clara in such a way. Besides, anything written by a human is bound to be pure drivel anyway.

With a resigned sigh, he ponders his options and decides that to write a book, one must first conduct an extensive amount of research. Thankfully, research is an area he is particularly skilled in. Unthankfully, he does not fancy conducting extensive research into this particular area. No, that definitely won’t do. He’ll have to make do with researching existing books within the genre and go from there. He briefly ponders the thought of paying a visit to the library onboard the TARDIS, but dismisses the idea as quickly as it comes. Whilst there’s undoubtedly some literature with a hint of an erotic nature lying around in there, the Doctor likes to consider himself above keeping a collection of such books.

First stop: the nearest bookshop. Well… strictly speaking that could be any bookshop really what with the whole ship that travels anywhere in time and space thing and all, but some locations are easier to land accurately in than others. 21st century London is always an easy one and there’s bound to be no end of bookshops stocking inappropriate novels there. London bookshop it is.

When they land, the Doctor sticks his head out of the TARDIS doors to examine his surroundings. A dank alleyway greets him, and he promptly exits the ship to take a closer look at the street sign in order to remember where exactly he’s parked. It wouldn’t be the first time he forgot where he’d parked the TARDIS, and the idea of wandering around looking for the ship whilst carrying a collection of erotic fiction is far from an appealing one.

Once satisfied that he’s aware of where they are, he leaves the alleyway and strolls out onto a relatively busy street. Conveniently, almost directly opposite the alleyway sits a large, yet somewhat rundown bookshop. Perfect. With a smile, the Doctor makes a mental note to congratulate himself on his excellent piloting skills later.

The inside of the shop is brimming with wall-to-wall books of every genre. Each section is vaguely categorised by a faded sign above the shelves and the Doctor makes a beeline for the one which reads ‘romance’. There, he begins to scan the shelves, skimming the title of each book with a frown of concentration. Unfortunately, the titles seem to give him little clues as to the actual contents of the books. The Doctor is about to resign himself to taking out each one and reading the blurb in the hope of finding those which might be on the more er… exotic side when he catches sight of a sign which reads ‘erotica’ off towards the right. Bingo.

He doesn’t bother to read the titles of the books, simply starts to drag them off of the shelves one by one until half of the section is empty and he can no longer see where he’s walking from behind a precarious tower of inappropriate literature.

Miraculously, he manages to find his way to the checkout desk without falling over anything or bumping into anyone and promptly sets the pile of books down in front of him with a soft thud. The woman behind the counter eyes the collection with a raised eyebrow and slightly widened eyes, clearly alarmed by his choice of purchases.

“You want to buy all of these?” The young woman asks, voice laced with mild disbelief. The Doctor stares at her as though she possesses all of the brain capacity of a turnip. “Well I didn’t carry them all over here just for fun.” He answers dryly and the woman, clearly taken aback by the bluntness of his response, simply ducks her head and begins to scan and bag up the books. The Doctor frowns slightly and wonders if this has something to do with that being nice thing Clara is always babbling on about…

He’s in the middle of pondering over whether he ought to try to engage the woman in further conversation when she interrupts him to state how much his purchase totals to and he hands her over a wad of money without another word. He isn’t often in the habit of keeping money on his person, but he keeps an amount stashed away onboard the TARDIS for emergencies. Buying a bookshop’s entire collection of erotic literature is clearly one such an emergency. The woman behind the counter accepts the cash with some muttered thanks and the Doctor begins to gather up the numerous carrier bags of books that are now sat gathered on the counter in front of him. It’s a struggle but, somehow, he manages to hold all of them at once and hurries rapidly out the shop door and back towards the TARDIS.

Once inside the ship, he practically begs her to move the library as close as physically possible to the console room so that he doesn’t wind up hauling his ridiculous collection of carrier bags along miles and miles of corridors. The TARDIS, for a change, decides to be generous and he finds the door to the library off to the right, a couple of doors down from the console room.

Off to the left-hand side of the extensive room is a large wooden desk, and it’s here that the Doctor empties out the entire contents of his carrier bags in an unceremonious heap. There. Now all that’s left to do is go through the pile and try to figure out what on Earth he’s actually going to write about…

*******************************************************************************************

Two hours in and after reading the words ‘engorged member’ for what feels like the millionth time, the Doctor tosses yet another book over his shoulder into the growing pile of discarded novels behind him. “Humans. You’d think with all of the canoodling they get up to that they’d actually be capable of writing about it, but apparently, that’s too much to ask of a bunch of pudding-brains.” He remarks to himself with an exaggerated sigh.

The Doctor thinks to himself that if he has to read one more poorly written description of ham-fisted foreplay then he might actually select the largest of the novels in the pile and proceed to beat himself over the head with it. It rapidly becomes too much to bear and the Doctor swiftly pushes himself up from the desk.

“Well, you know what they say old girl. If you want something done properly, ask a Time Lord to do it for you.” He speaks to his ship with a grin and feels what seems distinctly like an eye roll in response. One of these days, somebody around here will actually appreciate his wit.

Deciding that it’s about time he starts attempting to write this dreadful book, the Doctor seeks out another desk free from pornographic clutter and seats himself at it with a stack of paper and a pen. He could have done the human thing and used a computer, but he’s a little old fashioned and finds that his superior writing speed hardly makes it an inconvenience to write the whole thing out by hand.

His pen moves to form the cursive lettering that reads ‘Chapter One’ at the top of the first sheet of paper, and then begins detailing the beginnings of his story about an enigmatic, scarily handsome Rockstar from outer space who happens upon a petite, bossy young woman who knows exactly how to put him in his place…

*******************************************************************************************

He’s been writing for some time, when the Doctor hits a mental block and freezes with pen on paper. Despite bragging to Clara about his extensive knowledge in the area, it has actually been a while since he last engaged in… relations with anyone and he finds himself stuck as to the correct response one might give to the situation his story is currently depicting. Frowning to himself, he tries to conjure up the words to describe the reaction he’s looking for and repeatedly comes up short. Blast.

Then an idea pops into his head and he’s jumping out of his seat and running out of the library before the rational part of his brain can catch up and explain to him exactly why said idea is one of the less intelligent ones he’s had.

Back in the console room, the Doctor plugs in the coordinates for Clara’s flat and sends the TARDIS into flight. Moments later, the ship has materialised back in her bedroom and the Doctor is striding out through the doors.

“Clara?” He calls out, his Scottish accent thick as he annunciates her name.

On cue, she appears from the living room with what appears to be a smug grin on her face. ���Given up already, have you?” She teases with her arms folded across her chest.

“Not exactly.” He responds, eyeing her calculatingly.

“Well then, where is this master-,” her words die in her throat to be replaced with a sharp intake of air as the Doctor closes the distance between them, winding his arms around her waist and bringing his lips down to suck hard at the soft skin of her throat.

“Doctor-,” Clara manages to squeak out, the word tinged with a mixture of shock and a hint of arousal. In fact, the Doctor feels her go slightly weak in his arms and tilt her head back ever so slightly in encouragement, before she seems to catch herself and places her hands forcefully against his chest.

“What the hell are you doing?!” She exclaims, eyes wide in alarm.

Now, with his gaze on her face, the Doctor takes the time to note the pink flush that has crept over her face and neck and the way her breathing rate has substantially increased. He flashes her what can almost be described as a cheeky smirk and answers: “research, Clara.” And with that, he turns on his heel and walks straight back into the TARDIS, dematerialising and leaving a flabbergasted Clara Oswald in his wake.

[uncpanda]

The Ties that Bind: Memoriam

AN: This takes place during the season 4 episode memoriam. This is by far, one of my favorite chapters I’ve written for this series! 

Warnings: Mentions Parentifcation, pedophilia that was mentioned in the episdoe in Memoriam, a mental breakdown, and mentions of nudity. Nothing is graphic or explicit except maybe the breakdown.  

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader 

You hold your phone to your ear and wait for the recipient to answer. Your heart is in your throat, your stomach is turning, and you can feel the headache coming on. The ringing cuts off suddenly, “Hotchner.” 

“Please. Please tell me that you did not leave my baby brother in Las Vegas, chasing a case that is nearly as old as he is.” 

There’s a moment of silence, “One second.” You hear a chair scrape, and then a door closes. “You talked with Reid?” 

“Yes. He called to inform me that he thinks William is a pedophile and child killer.” 

“You don’t think that’s true?” 

You shake your head even though you know he can’t see it. “I know it isn’t. Look. William had a lot of faults. A lot. He was passive and then he was angry. One minute I was his daughter and the next I was a burden. But he loved Spencer. He loved kids. I have this vague memory of him talking with my mother about the next time she was pregnant and she just screamed it wasn’t happening again. And his face fell.” 

There’s a pause, “That could be. . .” 

“No it couldn’t. It wasn’t the same. He never made an inappropriate move towards a kid. And he never touched Spencer. From the time he was two till he was ten, Spencer slept in my room. It’s where he felt safe.” you run a hand over your face. 

“Do you remember Riley or anyone . . .” 

You take a deep breath. There are flashes of Spencer in the park, playing chess. “Maybe?”

“Okay. Stay there. I’m on my way. We can do a cognitive interview, and maybe get them some answers.” 

“No. If Spencer wants to do this, and he told me rather loudly that he did, then let him. He’s a grown man.” Your voice sounds meek to your own ears. It’s very unlike you. But you can’t do this. You’d put William and Diana behind you. You had done their job for them. You had protected Spencer. You hang up, and a fit of rage fills you. It takes everything you have to not toss your phone into a wall. You place it on the couch and grab a book before hurling it at the wall. It makes a nice sound. You pace the apartment. And when that doesn’t help calm you down, you grab your car keys and head out. 

The drive isn’t overly familiar. You’ve made it a few times, and there’s a chance he won’t even be home. You breathe a sigh of relief when you see his car in the driveway and the lights on in the cabin. You climb out of the car, and before you’ve taken two steps the door is open. 

Gideon is looking at you curiously. “Hey.” You get a small smile. 

You don’t return it. Instead, tears burn your eyes. The smile slips aways and he takes the steps forward to meet you. You throw yourself into his arms, and he hugs you tight. Your friendship with Jason is hard to define. If you had to define it, you’d say he was as close to a father figure as you could get. 

He ushers you inside and sits you down on his couch before taking his arm chair. He doesn’t prod you, he just waits. You’re pretty sure it’s the retired profiler in him. You quickly explain the situation Spencer has gotten himself into and Gideon listens without interruption. 

When you’re done you wait for some sort of wisdom. “You’re scared.” 

“I’m scared? That’s the best you’ve got.” 

He chuckles, “You’re scared of a lot. You’re scared you missed something as a ten year old child and your brother might have gotten hurt. You’re worried your mother is going to find a way to affect your brother’s reasoning. You’re scared about how Spencer’s confrontation with William is going to go. And you’re terrified at the thought of things going well, and the three of them being a family with you on the outside.” 

The tears well again, because he’s right. You hate it when he’s right. “Now you’ve got two options. You can wait for him to call and tell you what he finds out. Or we can do a cognitive interview. We can try and go back to that time.” 

You sigh. “Let’s do it.” 

He takes your hand, and gives you instructions to close your eyes, even your breathing, 

and  focus on an element of that time. You focus on the heat. It’s a dry heat but still brutal. It comes back, “RIley and Spencer were friends. He was one of the only kids who didn’t mind that Spencer was different. Riley was his opposite though. He smiled and laughed and he liked what William called normal kids stuff. I used to watch them at the park.” 

“Were you babysitting?” 

“No. I had friends of my own. I’d make them go to the park so I could still keep an eye on Spencer. He liked to play chess. He would beat the adults. I was afraid they might get mad at him. William would get mad at stuff like that.” 

“Focus on the chess. Did anyone seem inappropriate.” 

Your thoughts go a little blurry, but then they focus, “Mr. Michaels, from down the street. Most of the people who played against Spencer were grandparents. Or they had kids. He didn't. He'd offer Spencer candy, but he knew better than to take it. I made sure of that. My stomach felt queasy around him.” 

Gideon’s voice is soothing, “Those were your instincts. They were telling you he was trouble. Did you get Spencer away?” 

“Yeah. He was confused. He didn’t think it was nice that I didn’t like Mr. Michaels.” You open your eyes, “He disappeared right after Riley was murdered.” 

Gideon leans back, “Do you remember his first name?” 

“No. Everyone was Mr. or Mrs. because that’s what was polite. William made sure of that. Mom, not so much.” 

“Call your brother. Let him know.” 

You take your phone out hesitantly. You hadn’t been kidding when you said Spencer had been loud earlier. He’d been aggravated. And a little mean. You half expect him not to answer. 

But he does, “Hello.” 

You sigh, and Spencer calls your name, “Mr. Michaels from down the street. He used to play chess with you in the park. He liked to offer you candy. You never took it. He had no children, but he liked to be around you and the other kids.” 

There’s silence before Spencer says, “You led me away from him. I remember. I thought it was rude, I thought you’d be mad.” 

Your brow furrows, “Why would I be mad?” 

“I was talking to dad.” 

Your breath hitches in your throat. Faintly, you hear over the line, “Is that your sister? Can I talk to her?” 

“Um. . .” 

“No.” You answer firmly, “No Spencer. This is a boundary I’m setting. Respect it. Please.” 

Your brother’s answer is blunt, “She doesn’t want to talk to you.” You hear movement on the other side, and then things are much more quiet. “It’s just me.” 

You let out a sigh of relief, “Thanks.” 

“So it wasn’t dad.” 

“Told you so.” 

“I still have to figure out what happened to Mr. Michaels.” 

You screw your eyes shut, “No. You don’t. Just leave it alone, and come home. Please.” 

His voice is repentant this time, “I can’t. I need to figure this out. Mom stopped her meds in an effort to remember.” 

“Fuck. Spencer, it took the doctors and me three days to get her on the meds. It took even longer for her to realize they were a good thing. . .” 

“She’s doing good, sis. She wants to help. I know she’s a taboo topic for you, but . . .” 

“She’s not taboo Spencer. She’s never been taboo.” 

“Really, then what about when you said to stop talking to her about you? What was that?” 

You stand and start pacing the room. You can feel Gideon’s eyes on you. “That was in regards to getting my hopes up. It was me having to stop thinking that she might actually want to see me and have a relationship, because each time she turned me away it made me feel less than dirt. I’m fine talking about mom, I’m not okay with being tossed to the side.” You can feel the tears coming. The inadequacies, the hurt that you do an excellent job compartmentalizing and hiding are coming to the surface. “I’ve got to go. I love you.” 

You hang up before he can say anything. This time you don’t resist the urge, you hurl the flip phone into the wall. You take immense satisfaction in how it breaks. It may even be as broken as you. And with that you drop to your knees. The impact is hard, and stings, and you know they’ll be bruised the next day. The sobs tear through you, and suddenly you’re pulled into a chest. 

Gideon’s arms are locked around you. You feel him press a kiss to your hairline as you wail and scream and cry. He doesn’t say anything until the more extreme emotions are gone and you bury your face in his chest. You briefly wonder if this is what it’s like to have a good father? To have someone stand by you, and care about you, and try to make things better, and when they can’t just be there? You should have had this. It shouldn’t have all been on you. 

Gideon seems to think the same thing, “You did so good.” There’s emotion in his voice. Unshed tears maybe? “You are so strong. You did everything you could. You kept him safe. You kept yourself safe. You kept your mother safe. I am so proud of what you did. You raised a young man who saves lives, and you turned yourself into an amazing woman. You did good.” 

You stay like that for a while. Every once in a while he’ll rock you back and forth. When your tears are dried up, you go ahead and try and pull away. Gideon doesn’t let you. “A few more seconds.” You give him that. 

When those seconds are over you pull back and look at him, “You just did more for me than William or Diana ever did.” 

He smiles, “According to my son, Stephen, I’m getting a lot better at this whole parenting thing.” 

You smile at that, “How’d the trip to Yosemite go? Just the two of you for two weeks camping, right?” He’d told you about the plan to go the last time you two had had coffee. 

It’s a complete dismissal of the breakdown you’d just had. It’s a safe change in topic, and it allows you time to dissociate, regroup, and compartmentalize. You talk for about an hour before you stand and head home. 

Gideon is hesitant to let you drive, but you reassure him you don’t have any tears left. All you want right now is to go home and have some wine and maybe a bubble bath. He gives you strict orders to drive safe. You give him a hug and promise to do so. 

You feel a bit lighter on the drive home. And once you step into your hallway you pause at who you see there. “Aaron.” 

He’s still dressed in his full suit, but he’s sitting on the very dirty floor of your hallway with a book and his go bag next to him. He takes one look at you, pushes off the floor, takes three long strides, and gathers you in his arms. You cling to him. 

“I was literally on my way out of the office to come here when JJ went into labor. And then you weren't here, and I talked myself into waiting an hour before calling in a search party. Where the hell have you been?” 

“I went for a drive.” Your response is muffled by his shoulder. But he still understands. You pull away after another minute, and unlock the door. 

He follows you in and makes sure to close and lock the door. “I tried calling your cell.” 

You head to the kitchen and get out a bottle of wine. You pour a glass for you and a 

glass for him.  “I broke it. I’ll get a new one tomorrow.” You hand him his glass and proceed to down yours. He only has the one, which he sips over several hours, while you go through two bottles. It’s enough to leave you a drunken mess. 

Aaron doesn’t mind. He holds you when the tears and confessions start. The stories about Diana and William flow free. He’s the first and only person you've ever told these things to. Not even Spencer knows. At some point the night goes black. 

You wake up the next morning to a phone ringing and you groan. Hangovers last all day now that you’re not in your twenties, and you have the mother of all hangovers. Your entire being just hurts. 

You search for you phone but you can’t find it. That’s when you realize you’re in your bed, still in your clothes from the previous day, but someone is in your bathroom. You stare at the door, and then it opens. Your eyes go wide, and your mouth goes dry, as Aaron steps through the doorway in only a towel. And DEAR LORD. 

Aaron is all lean muscle. He isn’t as defined as you think Morgan would be, but still! There’s a smattering of hair on his chest and a nice little trail that leads to what’s under the towel. You feel your cheeks heat up. Then you catch sight of the water still dripping down his body, and how his hair is damp and a little more floppy than usual. A bit of it falls into his eyes. 

He shoots you a small smile before going to the nightstand on the opposite side of the bed, and picking up his phone. He clicks the answer button, and answers, “Hotchner.” 

He listens briefly and smiles, “That’s good to hear. I’ll let the rest of the team know.” Then he hangs up, and turns to face you, as though he’s not wearing just a towel. “JJ had the baby, and they’re both okay.” 

You answer on auto pilot, “That’s good.” 

“How are you feeling?” 

“Like I went to a frat party.” 

“Mixing wine and tequila can do that to a person.” 

You had mixed your  drinks? That explained the drumline going on in your skull. “Thank you for staying.” 

“Nothing to thank me for. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.” 

You roll on the bed so that you’re just a tad closer to him, and take his hand. He laces his fingers with yours, and you smile, “You’re a good friend Aaron.” 

He squeezes your hand, “I’d do anything for you, Don’t forget that.” And as you stare into his eyes, you know he’s speaking nothing but the truth, and you’re so grateful to have that. “Back at you. Now, how about you put on some clothes so I don’t feel like I’m at Chippendales.” 

You expect a blush, instead you get a smirk, “See something you like?” 

Bastard. He’s entirely too confident. You roll away from him and off the bed, “Get dressed or you won’t get any of the donuts I’m ordering.” You just get a laugh in return, and you can’t help but think that today is already looking much brighter than yesterday. Then again, how could it not, with a nearly naked Aaron Hotchner in your apartment? 

[itsmyartfam]

Dadzawa fic rec list

So lately I’ve been reading a lot of Dadzawa fics so I thought I’d share them with you. I shortened down the summaries of some of the longer ones- I didn’t put them in my own words of course, but I just used the shortened snippets that authors sometimes put at the end of their own longer summaries. They’re in no particular order of greatness, and I tried to get a good blend of popular and less popular ones so here u go.

1) i. shaky hands- rexcorvidae

midoriya has chronic pain, and tries to hide it. aizawa deals with this, and learns something surprising along the way.

One-Shot. Honestly their whole whumptober collection is amazing I would totally read them all if you have the time, they’re pretty much all loaded with great Dadzawa content

2) Not all exits are made Equal- LunaLucrea

When a raid goes wrong, and Aizawa gets taken, he's hardly expecting to be found. He's a professional Underground Hero. He's seen situations like this play out before, and knows how the cards usually fall.

He's got people he'll miss of course, and he feels terrible about what this is going to do to Hizashi and Eri, but these are the types of risks he agreed to when he signed on the dotted line all those years ago. He's ready to accept his fate.

Too bad for him his former students are tenacious little shits.

Three chapters. I love seeing how Aizawa interacts with older Midoriya in the first chapter and how he thinks of all of his former students now that they’re pro heroes, he’s such a proud dad but he’s also so self-deprecating and he needs some love and class 1-A will force it on him. Wholesome, 10/10, but also warning for whump! on Aizawa’s part.

3) To the people we admire- The_ crownless_ queen

Eri learns about autographs, and how they're a way for fans to show they like their heroes. Naturally, she wants all of them — and especially Eraserhead's.

One-Shot. I don’t read many Eri fics but my god, this one is adorable. Eri learns about autographs and wants Aizawa’s but his students know that Aizawa doesn’t really give autographs so they devise a plan to get one out of him- basically by making him jealous of Eri getting autographs from every hero but him. It’s wholesome, Dadzawa is like ‘wtf Eri’, I love it.

4) Inhibitions- Thealmostrhetoricalquestion

Todoroki gets zapped by a Quirk that effectively lowers someone's inhibitions, and Aizawa deals with the strange, humorous, heart-breaking fallout.

The train ride back is something of a nightmare. Not because it goes badly, or because something awful happens, but because Aizawa can’t get rid of this feeling in his chest every time he sees Todoroki’s unusual, carefree smile. He looks like nothing has ever hurt him.

One-Shot. Lol, this one’s funny- Todoroki acts all loopy and carefree and Aizawa is frantically scrambling after him trying to make sure he doesn’t get himself into trouble, all while finding out more than he’d ever thought he’d learn about his student. Good shit, good comedy, good angst.

5) I consider myself lucky- alightintheshadows

For some of us, our teachers are the greatest role models we'll ever have.

One-Shot. Ugh, this is so sappy and kinda cheesy but I love it! Izuku gives his dads All Might and Aizawa gifts because he loves is grateful to them. WHOLESOME SHIT

6) Not in the Job Description- IidaRei98

A collection of drabbles revolving around the Dadazawa and Class 1A. Mostly fluff with some hurt/comfort - whatever pops into my head really!

Incomplete, 56/? Chapters. Solid collection of dadzawa drabbles. I didn’t finish reading them all because I get easily distracted away from long fics, but since it doesn’t follow a plot it’s easy to put down and pick back up when you wanna get your dadzawa fix.

7) passing through fire- achievingelysium

“What happened? A villain?”

“Ye- yeah,” Midoriya croaks. Shouta starts walking.

“I was there,” Shouta says, feeling through the words before he speaks, “but I don’t remember?”

Midoriya closes his eyes.

“No,” he agrees, “you wouldn’t. But- but you... were there. With... me.”

Aizawa finds himself in a street with little memory of how he got there. Then he discovers Midoriya, beaten and bruised, who claims Aizawa protected him—but as Aizawa regains pieces of his memory he realizes Midoriya may be lying, and he's the one who's done his own student harm.

One-Shot. OOH, OUCH, FUCKING LOVE THIS ONE! God I love the Dadzawa ANGST in this! I haven’t seen a dadzawa fic with a plot like this before, so I highly recommend checking this one out, especially if you like ANGST! Love it!

8) a penny for your thoughts- cassiopeia721

While visiting Eri at the hospital following her rescue from the Shie Hassaikai, Izuku and Aizawa-sensei both run into a nurse with a telepathy based quirk, and Izuku finds himself in a telepathic bond with his teacher. This is... somewhat worrying, considering how many secrets Izuku needs to keep.

Six chapters. Yet another Dadzawa fic with a unique concept that I have never come across before. Very good, much angst! My only complaint is I wish Izuku could’ve heard a bit more of Aizawa’s angsty thoughts, the whole thought-hearing did feel a bit one-sided at times, but overall it was a very good fic. The angst of Izuku struggling to keep his many secrets from Aizawa for a whole week was *chef’s kiss* Good dad-son bonding.

9) Geyser- spineless

Izuku faints during class when weeks of sleeping and eating poorly catch up with him. Aizawa, All Might, and his friends, remind him that no matter what he's going through, he doesn't have to do it alone.

Three Chapters. Good Dadzawa being all disapproving of his son Izuku pushing himself too hard and not taking care of himself like he can fucking talk lol. But also some angst cuz Izuku is a tormented boi who has been through too much and is Not OkayTM and his dads are there to help him.

10) The World on His Shoulders- baggytshirtsandtiredeyes

During their second year, Aizawa decides to take some of the students on patrol to give them a taste of the underground hero life. But of course, nothing goes as planned when UA's resident Problem Child is involved.

One-Shot. Izuku is a BAMF and Aizawa is like O.O. I can’t say anything more. This fic deserves more attention.

____________________________________________________

Okie dokie, that’s enough for now. If you guys like my recommendations, maybe I’ll make another list in the future! 

[elvenmother]

Context and Perspective: How Villains Are Made

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x F Reader  Rating: Teen. Warnings: None so far. Chapter: 1/15 Word count: 1922

Summary: The newest member of the Heroics has gone missing and as one of the better-known Villains on the scene, you are blamed. Then your sidekick goes missing. You must go after the Heroic’s leader to try to get them back and clear your name.

Note: This has not been beta read so apologies for any mistakes.  Also my first time writing for We Can Be Heroes and Marcus Moreno although they aren’t really in this chapter.

Being labeled as a villain in a world full of heroes was not easy. First of all, you had to take extra precautions to protect your identity. Not just the same ones the heroes did. If they were found out and revealed, the worst that would happen is they would become overnight celebrities. Oh, poor them. The worst outcome for you would probably be prison. So guarding your identity, who you were out of the costume, became priority number one.

The second was listening to people talk about you like you were scum. Being the villain hadn’t been something you had wanted but you were damned if you were going to join those pathetic assholes who laughingly called themselves The Heroics.

~~~~~

You had first discovered your powers when you hit puberty. It was hard to control them at first but gradually you practiced and it became a little easier each day. Soon they were second nature to you and you were faced with the choice of what to do with them.

As luck, or fate, would have it another girl at your high school also came into her powers around the same time. Her name was Jess Campbell, and unlike you, her powers were not something she could hide. A physical mutation turned her from a slight 5’ 2 girl into a 8’ tall purple behemoth of a creature. Jess hadn’t been given the choice of a secret identity. Fate and genetics had decided for her.

You remember the day she told you the Heroics had approached her to join them. Jess was still only 14 at the time, and you remember how nervous she was as she told you about meeting the team leader. During the mid-nineties, Antonio Moreno was the charismatic leader, back when you thought the Heroics were actually worth respecting. Jess meeting him was like meeting the lead singer of a boy band and the president all rolled into one. You had been so jealous and had even considered revealing your own abilities at that point.

You had changed your mind, however, when Jess disappeared. Taken to Heroics headquarters to train. That’s what her mother had told you and her other friends when a group of you had gone looking for your shy friend. If joining the Heroics meant leaving your family and friends behind, then it definitely wasn’t for you. So you had decided to keep quiet for the time being.

It was 4 years later, at your graduation, that you finally saw Jess again. She was debuting in her new Heroic persona to give a speech to her former classmates. Violet Giant. You hated the name as soon as your principal said it. It was dumb. Jess wasn’t violet. She was more of a lilac hue and describing her as a giant felt mean somehow. There was way more to her abilities than just her size. But the name was official, so she was Violet Giant.

You hated to admit it, but Jess had seemed to really blossom under the Heroic training. You had known her as a shy girl who constantly doubted her own judgment and intelligence. The young woman who spoke at your graduation was wonderfully confident. 

Once the ceremony was over, you had joined the throngs of people crowding around Jess. Some wanted her autograph, some photos, and some like you had been her friends before her departure. Her face lit up when she saw you all.

“Guys!” She had turned to her assistant. Looking back, you were pretty sure the guy was a handler sent to keep her on the job. “Can I have a second with them? Please?” 

The guy had rolled his eyes but nodded, and Jess followed you and the others off to the side.

“It’s so good to see you.” She looked at each of your little group in turn. “I’ve really missed you.”

“How come you never called then?” Ashley McMahon, one of your friendship group's more blunt members, had put her hands on her hips. “It’s been 4 years, Jess. None of us have seen or heard from you in 4 years.”

You had watched as Jess’ eyes had filled with tears. “I wanted to. I wanted to call every day. But it’s not allowed. Contact with the outside. I could only see my family at the end of the month. You don’t understand. There are so many rules.” She had dropped her voice to a whisper. “I wanted to leave. I tried to once. But they told me I’d never live a normal life looking like this.” She had gestured to her giant purple form. “They said I’d be happier with them.”

“That is some cult-level shit right there.” Jada Jones, your best friend, had tutted. 

Jess hadn’t answered and had looked nervously back at her handler. “I gotta go, guys. It, it was really nice seeing you all again.”

That was the day you decided you would never join the Heroics. But it did leave you with the question of what to do with your powers.

~~~~~

To begin with, you tried to go freelance. Helping out people where you could. Foiling the odd bank robbery and stopping an occasional run-away train. But as more time passed, the more you attracted the attention of the Heroics. At first, they tried to recruit you. You remember Crushing Low, part of the new generation who had taken over from their parents, approaching you after a skyscraper fire.

“You’ve got talent. I’ll give you that.” He had smiled what you assumed he thought was a flirty smile at you. In reality, he just looked like a smug dick. “Ever thought of coming to work for the good guys?”

“So people who don’t work for the Heroics are the bad guys then?” You spat back, offended.

“No.” Crushing Low shook his head. “But people with powers tend to fall into two categories. The good guys, that’s us.” He used his thumbs to gesture to himself. You had rolled your eyes. “And the bad guys. You have powers, and you seem to want to help people, so I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to join.”

“Maybe I prefer to work alone. Or maybe I just don’t like your stupid little club.”  And with that, you had flipped him off and flown away.

And with that, the Heroics had labelled you a villain. Anytime you helped people, the event was twisted in the media. Credit was often assigned to a Heroic who would arrive long after things were taken care of, while your presence at the scene was portrayed in a negative light. Sure, the people you help knew the truth, but they were small voices compared to the massive organization behind the Heroics.

Over time you grew to hate them. You hated their stupid names. You hated how their outfits were referred to as ‘unforms’ while yours was a ‘costume.’ You hated their arrogance.

~~~~~

Time passed, you grew older, and soon realized you couldn’t do this shit alone. It was time to find a sidekick. As luck would have it, Jada, your best friend from high school, offered a perfect solution.

“My niece has powers.” She told you one night over takeout. She had become a part of your ‘team’ around 10 years ago, providing tech support, costume repairs, hunting down leads, and generally giving good advice. “My sister doesn’t know, and I’m not going to be the one to tell her. The girl needs some training and guidance. I can only do one of those things.”

“What can she do?”

“Ice stuff with a little bit of plant shit like you.”

“Ah, plant shit.” You laughed. “A classic superhero power.”

“I don't need your sass.” Jada raised an eyebrow. “I need you to say yes.”

“Do I have a choice?” 

“Nope.” Jada shook her head. “The alternative is she ends up with those dumbass Heroics. You want that?”

“Fuck no.” You sneered on impulse at the mention of their name.

“Then you have a sidekick now.” Jada spread her arms and grinned. “Congratulations.”

~~~~~

Training with Jada’s niece Chloe was going well. You had been able to help her with the plant shit, as Jada had put it, and her ice abilities weren’t too dissimilar to your own weather powers. She was settling into her powers nicely, and the two of you had already helped more people that month than you could ever have done alone. You were slowly becoming a damn good team.

Too bad the media didn’t see it that way. The more people you helped, the more you appeared on the news. That was just how it worked; you knew this. You and Jada thought you had prepared Chloe for this, but it had still come as a shock to the young woman to see herself on the evening news labeled as a menace.

You felt for her; you really did. It had been hard for you too when you had first been called a villain. She’d get used to it. At least that’s what you told yourself as you shrugged off your coat after a long day at your ‘normal’ job. Office work wasn’t glamorous, but it paid the bills and kept suspicious eyes off you.

Wandering into the kitchen, you pulled open the fridge and eyed its contents. Nothing was jumping out at you, but you really couldn’t afford takeout again this week. So after a minute or two of staring into the fridge, you grabbed some ham and set about making yourself a sandwich. 

Flopping down onto your couch, sandwich bouncing on the plate in your hand, you reached over to the remote and turned on the tv. Time to catch up on the news and maybe pick up some leads for you and Chloe to tackle.

The 24-hour news channel flickered to life as you leaned back to enjoy your meal.

“...and no one has heard from the young Heroic since.” A male reporter was giving a piece to camera from in front of a warehouse.

“Are there any leads to what could have happened to Freefall, Joe?” The female news anchor asked her reporter in the field. “Have any of the Heroics you’ve spoken to given you any indication as to what has befallen the newest member of the team?”

Freefall. You had to roll your eyes at the ridiculous name. Seriously? Poor guy probably ran away to escape that dumbass name. You laughed at your own joke as the channel cut back to the reporter.

“No details so far, Brooke, but my sources tell me that Freefall was investigating a supervillain sighting at this warehouse.” Joe, the reporter, stepped to the side to let the camera zoom in on the building behind him. Your heart stopped. You knew that warehouse. You and Chloe had taken out some people traffickers there two nights ago.

“Are you saying a supervillain is behind the disappearance of Freefall?” The anchor’s voice seemed to get louder as your heart started to pound. It was a coincidence. It had to be.

“It is believed so, Brooke.”

Shit.

The reporter continued as the camera centered back on his face. “In fact, my sources in Heroics HQ have told me that a long-time and well-known supervillain might be behind this.”

“Do we have a name, Joe?” The anchor pressed for details, eager to give her audience something juicy.

“Brooke, from what I’ve been told, the Heroics are focusing their investigation on Storm Shadow.”

Storm Shadow? Fuck. That was you.

~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list: @anaaaispunk​ @lemonboynsp​ @galaxyofmando​ @novemberrain221​ @28cnn​ @pintsizemama​ @athalien​

[levi-my-beloved]

Birds of a Feather

Chapter 4

Parings: Canon!Levi x F!Reader

Content Warnings: Violence, torture, this one gets a little spicy y’all, descriptions of sexual acts, hints of abuse (please let me know if i’ve missed any)

Word Count: 14.8K

Summary: You were the most notorious criminal in The Underground City. With your organisation of highly skilled professionals, only one man could take you down. He also happened be be Humanity’s Strongest... and your ex.

Previous Chapter

First Chapter

A/N: well, you guys wanted it all in one post! this is by far the longest chapter, yet, and possibly the longest chapter in the entire fic maybe? i’ve caught myself up now with the progress of writing, since i’ve only completed one part of the next chapter so chapter 5 won’t be out within the next three days like these last four have been. i’m thinking i’ll need maybe a week? not sure, but the next part has a little flashback section which i hope you’ll all enjoy!

god these a/n’s are really long aren’t they? asdfghjkl sorry i’ll make the cut off now. hope you enjoy!!!

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

Whether it had been thirty minutes or thirty years, you couldn’t tell. Struggling to stay conscious as the four soldiers brought your limp body back to your cell. Your legs no longer work, gathering dust as they drag across the ground. Your abdomen and back were on fire. You were convinced. They had simply thrown you into hell to cook for a bit before dragging you back out. There was no other explanation. Other than the countless, seemingly endless beatings you had just taken. Whether your legs were tired or if your spine was broken, you couldn’t tell as they tossed you back behind bars, removing the rope around your wrists. You didn’t have the strength to fight back. Didn’t have the strength to even raise your head as they left.

Broken, split ribs sent agonising jolts of pain as you shifted in a lame attempt to curl up into a ball. You hadn’t cracked like they’d wanted you to. You hadn’t screamed, cried, begged them to stop. And you wouldn’t. When they came back for you, you would hold your tongue once again. You had never broken in the past. Whether you’d been compromised during an assault on a rival gang, or whether it was one of your mentor’s training exercises to get you used to torture. You had never broken.

You weren’t about to start now.

Still, the throbbing in your body prevented you from sleeping. You didn’t know what time it was. Time had escaped you during that ordeal. You didn’t even know what time of day it was, pretty sure it was night when they had come for you.

Fuck, your body ached. But you knew comfort was a long way from here. It always seemed so far away from where you were. Did you ever have comfort?

You lay there for god knows how long, seconds turning to minutes, minutes to hours. Hours could have turned to days for all you knew.

When the now familiar echo of footsteps reached your ears, you didn’t move. You didn’t care. Whoever it was could rot in hell for all you cared. Wishing death upon these fucking soldiers was the only thing keeping you from giving up right now.

“The bed not good enough or something?” Levi. Shit. The one person you didn’t want to see you like this.

You didn’t answer, choosing instead to try and count as many marks on the wall as you could. It helped to keep your focus off the dull throbbing coursing through your body.

“Oi, ‘you seriously still asleep? It's almost midday,” the singing of metal caused you to wince slightly as he rapped on the bars in an attempt to wake you from a sleep you weren’t in.

“Get the fuck u—” You had a vague idea what caused him to stop his impending barrage of insults you knew were about to flutter effortlessly from his mouth, and you couldn’t tell if you were thankful or not. On the upside, you didn’t have to hear whatever colourful language he was about to spew. On the downside…

“What happened to you…?” it was the second time he’d asked that question, but from the tone of his voice, you could tell this was less a passing thought and more of a question prompted by horror.

Levi froze. His breath caught in his throat. He had expected you to be awake by now. To be up, with that crooked, cocky smile on your face. In fact, he’d half expected you to be leaning against the wall, the door flung wide open as you twirled the keychain around your finger, simply begging him to ask you how you’d done it.

The last thing he expected to see was you, on the floor, curled into a ball. The shirt on your lower back riding up enough for him to see violent, deep purple bruises, blood steadily streaming from your spine and lower back.

Still you refused to answer, or even move. Filthy fucking soldiers, you fucking hated every last one of them. How fucking dare they? How dare they string you up like a piece of drying meat. They had no idea what you’d been through. What you’d had to do to survive. How dare they assume.

And yet,

And yet there was still that little voice in your head. That little kernel of doubt, convincing you that you deserved this. You had killed so many. So much blood was on your hands.

You deserved this.

You didn’t even notice Levi had entered your cell until a hand rested upon your shoulder.

“(Y/N)—”

“Don’t fucking touch me,” your reaction was instant. Instinctual. Immediately wrenching out of his hand, throwing yourself forward. A yelp escaped your mouth without your permission, fire igniting in your body as you moved so suddenly. It caused you to falter in your movements, landing harshly on your side. “Shit!” your voice broke as you yelped, agony flaring in your entire midsection, hand flying to clutch your side as you backed up against the wall. “Don’t fucking touch me,” there was no conviction in your voice. It was more of a plea than anything. If you had raised your head to look at him, maybe you would have laughed at his expression of twisted shock.

But instead you let your hair fall in front of your face, masking your own expression. Teeth grit in silent pain, eyes screwed shut.

Levi’s worry turned to outright unsettling fear. Over the last two days, he’s witnessed you more broken than he’s ever seen you before. He remembered sitting up with you after you’d woken from one of your nightmares. The two of you sitting on the floor against the wall, sharing a cup of tea to not waste resources. He’d seen you angry. He’d seen you upset. But he’d never seen you shattered.

“(Y/N)...” you’d forgotten how soft his usual bored voice could sound. Even after yesterday, you hadn’t heard that tone from him in years. It was borderline unnatural.

It prompted you to raise your head ever so slightly, glaring at him through thick, matted (H/C) strands. You refused to let your guard down, even though the sight of him squatting before you, eyebrows gently creased with suppressed worry almost made you relax. But you weren’t about to be taken away and tortured again.

Any scrap of trust that may have manifested yesterday during the carriage ride and your conversation had been crushed.

“Get away from me,” you looked feral, bearing your teeth animalistically as you snarled. Though it didn’t seem to deter him. He knew a dog only bared its teeth when it was wounded, fearing to be hurt further.

Levi sighed through his nose as he stood. You flinched at his movement and watched as he made more of a conscious effort not to startle you. Your eyes squinted in suspicious confusion as he took a small cloth from his pocket and started running it under the tap.

It seemed the faucet did work. Good to know.

Returning to squat in front of you, his eyes flickered from your face to your abdomen.

“Show me,” he instructed gently, and you almost obeyed him. Almost.

“Go fuck yourself,” you spat instead, bringing your knees closer to your aching body. If you hadn’t been trained to withstand pain, you would have cried out as your abdomen begged you to stop constricting your muscles.

“I’m trying to help,” your ears caught the slight irritation in his tone, but you didn’t care. He could kick you for all you care.

Actually, you really didn’t want him to do that.

“I don’t want your help,”

“You need it.”

“Burn in hell, Levi,” it was the first time you’d actually used his name since you said it back when they first apprehended you, and Levi couldn’t deny that it cut deep. A sentiment he masked with a frustrated exhale. Clearly he’d expected resistance. Either that or he was just as tenacious as he used to be.

“Well, I'm definitely not going up,” he responded, that same softness in his tone and despite your situation, you couldn’t help the slight huff of amusement. It seemed to put him at ease too, content you weren’t about to lunge for his throat.

Slowly, you uncurled from your position, visibly wincing as your torn, beaten muscles relaxed. Levi took this as permission to inch closer and you felt a small appreciation for his trepidation.

Still, you couldn’t help but flinch every time he moved too fast. A simple reflex stemming from your training. It wasn’t really something you thought about, but it prompted the raven haired man to freeze every time you moved.

You refused to meet his eyes as he gently lifted the fabric of your shirt, hearing his breath hitch slightly.

“Holy shit…” He breathed. You hadn’t seen how bad your body was damaged, but judging by his reaction;

It sure as hell wasn’t good.

Levi felt he could kill someone. Actually, a lot of someones. Shit, when he finds out who was responsible for this he would make sure they wished they were never born. The same rage he felt when seeing you flinch for the first time once again coursed through his veins, and this time, he didn’t think he could just let it simmer.

“Who did this to you?” you blinked, his question caught you off guard. Didn’t he know? How didn’t he know? Surely every soldier in the damn military would revel in the idea of you being tortured all night. You clenched your jaw, refusing to respond. You didn’t know why you were being so stubborn. Maybe it was the sheer principle of not wanting to show any sort of weakness in front of him.

In fact, now you thought about it, it was definitely that. Whether Levi sensed it or not, he chose not to press you for an answer. Perhaps he did already know.

You hissed as the cold, damp cloth gently soothed your inflamed skin, glancing back to his face. You hated the way his focussed expression calmed your heart. Loathed how that crease in his eyebrows eased your whirling thoughts. Despised how, from this angle, you could see just how annoyingly attractive he had become.

“Can you move?” he asked, silver eyes rising up to meet your own. The low torchlight highlighted the heus of deep blue you knew he had hidden away. You pretended you looked away because you couldn’t stand the sight of his face, rather than the reality.

You were far too tempted to lean up and capture his lips.

“Yes,” Levi couldn’t tell if you were lying, shifting slightly to help you move but stopping immediately when you flinched away.

“Lie on the bed,” for the first time in ten years, you were compelled to follow an order. You weren’t even obedient towards Viper most of the time. But nonetheless, you found yourself struggling to your feet, an arm braced on the wall behind you.

Clearly respecting your independence, Levi took a step back, allowing you to find your own way. If you weren’t slightly delirious from the pain, you would have missed a kernel of respect flashing in his expression, before he swiftly turned away, washing the cloth again as you collapsed onto the so-called ‘mattress’ with a hiss.

Levi rung the small cloth out onto the floor, focussing on the way the droplets collided with the stone, rather than the way every movement you made caused you obvious pain. Once again, every fibre of his being was screaming at him to cradle you in his arms and whisper soft nothings into your ear. He wanted you to fall asleep next to him, your face buried in the crook of his neck. He craved to feel your soft hair through his fingertips, gently coercing you into dreams. It hurt so much that he could see you, but he couldn’t have you.

Turning to face away from him, you once again shrivelled into a ball. You didn’t want this. You didn’t want any of this. You just wanted to be left alone. But the dip in the bed behind you told you that wasn’t an option right now, muscles tensing on instinct.

he didn’t ask for permission this time as gentle fingers gripped your shirt, dragging up to reveal your brutalised back. If you could see his expression, you might have even been afraid. Darkness shrouded his face, teeth grit in utter hatred. A muscle in his jaw twitching from the effort of clamping his mouth so tightly.

His first touch felt like you’d been shocked by the static that built up on the bed clothes. The damp cool gliding across the welts and bruises across your back. Balling your hands into fists, you refused to make any sound. Still having the mindset of not wanting to give anyone the satisfaction of hearing you in pain. It was a mindset you didn’t think would leave you for a while.

Levi worked in silence, allowing you to settle and almost relax after a while. You wanted to trust him, but you didn’t. Not really. However, right now, you trusted him not to hurt you further. Simply content to relish in the way he soothed the pain. It didn’t come naturally. Every time he pressed too hard it took all your strength not to lunge for his throat, but he would stop upon hearing your sharp intake of breath, waiting for you to settle before continuing.

After what seemed like an eternity of silence, you finally broke it with a question that had been budding in your mind.

“Why are you doing this?” your voice came out a rasped whisper, almost as if you hadn’t used your vocal chords for weeks. You were sure he wasn’t going to answer, opting instead to simply continue to clean your bruises. Another blanket of quiet had settled over the two of you before he responded.

“I don’t know,” he lied. Levi wasn’t sure why he lied. Honestly, he thought it was obvious enough. He still cared about you. So fucking much. It burned him to see you in so much pain. He’d never felt the mind numbing fury he felt when he saw what they’d done to you.

You weren’t really happy with the answer. If anything, it simply gave you more questions. But you were too tired to press for more. Almost too tired to notice when he’d stopped. Pulling your grimy shirt back down to your waist, you felt the mattress rise as he stood. You didn’t turn. You couldn’t turn. After the night you’d had, the exhaustion from the last 24 hours finally catching up on you.

Noticing how you were almost already asleep, Levi decided to throw caution to the wind.

You felt a soft caress through your dirt ridden hair, the action sending a pleasant buzz through your system. It was an action so familiar to the both of you, you wondered why you kept flinching away from his touch when all it did was gently drain you of energy.

“Sleep.”

You didn’t have time to contemplate his tone before the comforting nothingness claimed you.

꧁ꨄ꧂

Levi hadn’t been this angry in a long, long time. Sure, he’d been annoyed. When a solider made a stupid mistake or when a cadet didn’t know how to clean properly. But he hadn’t been this furious in years.

Maybe since the deaths of Isobel and Farlan.

It was obvious when Levi was in a bad mood. Sweeping through the headquarters like a storm. Cadets could almost feel his presence before they saw him, swiftly making themselves busy as he paid no attention to any of them. He had one goal in mind. One destination. And he didn’t even knock when he got there.

“Out. Now.” it wasn’t an order to disobey. When he opened the door to Erwin’s office, revealing a small meeting, Levi didn’t think twice to dismiss them, even if they were his superiors.

“Levi, what’s—”

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll all leave the room for the next half an hour. Maybe longer depending on how this conversation goes,” his swirling eyes met Erwin’s and he swore he could detect the slightest fear in the man’s gaze.

Good.

He should be afraid.

Without so much as a mutter of goodbyes, the squad leaders and section commanders all dispersed, leaving the Captain alone with the Commander.

Erwin was the first to break the heavy silence.

“I’m assuming this is about Raven?” his voice didn’t waver, seeming to have regained his composure from the initial shock. But Levi wasn’t here for a dainty conversation. The unbridled rage pulsing through his bloodstream clouded his vision, almost seeing red.

“Did you know?”

“Levi—”

“Did. You. Know?” Levi hardly ever raised his voice. Usually it was only out in the field or on a mission, and that was only because it was easier to communicate that way. Keeping his bored, flat tones when slicing open the nape of a titan didn’t seem possible.

Erwin pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a deep, defeated sigh.

“Yes. I knew. But Levi, you have to understand—”

“I don’t have to understand jackshit. Don’t you think she’s been through enough? She’s led a life being treated like an animal and now you’re allowing her to be beaten like one?”

“It’s necessary, Levi.”

“It’s barbaric!” Erwin had never heard such venom in his voice. Not even when he vowed to kill him all those years ago. He’d seen Levi’s rage. Witnessed it from afar. The way he tore through flesh like it was paper.

Never did he think he would be on the receiving end. Leaning forward, the blonde folded his arms against the desk, clearly conflicted.

“I know this is a difficult subject for you. You two grew up in the same environment, it would only be natural for you to care for her,” the conniving bastard. Levi borderline snarled at the statement. He did care for you. Deeply. But Erwin didn’t need to know that.

“But please listen. As I mentioned before, ties between the Military Police and the Survey Corps are taut. Any discord between us would cause them to snap. I already tightened them further by not allowing them to execute her publicly. I thought if she joined the Scouts instead, not only would we gain an asset, but she would also be able to survive. That didn’t sit well with Niles. He wants her to pay for what she’s done. If not by death, then by various other methods. This was the only way to keep both parties happy, Levi. Trust me,” Levi was starting to lose what trust he had in the man.

Whilst yes, his explanation made sense, it still didn’t sweeten the blow. How long would this go on for? Would they take you everyday, or just some days? How badly would they hurt you?

As if able to read his mind through his knife-like glare, Erwin continued.

“It’s only for this week. Whilst she’s in her cell. They don’t have permission to permanently damage her, only—”

“Only break her ribs and crack her sternum. Yeah, I saw,” he responded bitterly, folding his arms as he leant against the door. Fuck this. Fuck him. Fuck them.

Levi had never been so conflicted. Whilst the sight of you, beaten and broken, had shattered him, he also knew it was for your own good. It was this, or death.

He didn’t like the second option much.

But the memory of what they had done had burned into his skull. Running his fingers down your prominent, bruised spine. So fragile, but so goddamn strong. Muscles spread disproportionately about your abdomen and shoulders. Your stomach was concave for fuck sakes. And they were still beating the shit out of you.

It made him wonder. If he wasn’t so lucky…

Would he have received the same treatment?

Would he have been thrown in a cell and tortured for a week?

He doubted it.

Erwin waited for Levi to gather his thoughts. Waited for him to say whatever he was going to say next. He had expected Levi to find out. Had expected the man to have some sort of reaction, but nothing quite to this extent. Maybe there really was something deeper between you and him that Levi was keeping to himself.

“So this will continue for a whole damn week?” Levi asked, almost exasperated, running a hand through his obsidian locks. This was a nightmare. All of it. Nobody deserves this treatment. Not even Kenny, but especially not you.

It was Erwin’s slow nod that had his stomach dropping.

“Yes,” he replied quietly. “This will continue for the whole week.”

That was all Levi needed to hear. Whether it was right or wrong, he was powerless to stop it. Turning on his heel and heading back down the halls to his office, he tried to push the images of your broken body and spirit from his mind. Maybe he was hoping you were the same bright eyed, mischievous woman you were before he lost you ten years ago. How had so much changed since then?

How much had you changed so much since then?

He no longer saw that spark of life in your eyes. No longer able to bask in your genuine smile.

If he hadn’t seen so many young, hopeful souls shattered by the paralysing fear of facing a titan, or the desperate heartache of losing a loved one, he’d be surprised.

But he wasn’t. Not at all. Who knows what you have had to do to survive? Who knows just how much of yourself you’d had to sacrifice to get where you are now. But he wouldn’t accept that you were gone.

He would never accept that.

But from the looks of you, only a small fragment of your true self remained. Levi thought he was over being hurt by the changes in people he somewhat cared about.

Maybe he was wrong.

꧁ꨄ꧂

The week was gruelling. Taken from your cell at night and being subjected to both physical and mental torture was one of the toughest things you’ve faced. It was brutal, having to fortify both your mind and body nightly against the blows from the MPs. Sometimes it would change. Sometimes the original four switched out. Sometimes they had an observer. But every time was horrific.

You were sure you’d be dead by now if Levi didn’t visit daily to soothe your broken and cracked bones. If he didn’t ask his monotonous questions, all of which you either responded to with something sarcastic, or silence.

Very few times you actually gave a real answer.

Unlike this time.

“How did you get that scar?” It was always the question he started with. Always wanting to know what happened to you during the time he was away, and that scar down your right eye.

“Don’t you ever get tired of asking that question?” you huffed, tucking your elbows beneath your head.

“Don’t you ever get tired of not answering it?” since you’d seen him everyday since you arrived, you were beginning to relearn all the tells you knew he had, but had changed over time. For example, this smallest lilt in his voice when he found something amusing. He waited for your body to stop twitching as you laughed silently, before resuming the treatment of the damp cloth.

“Not really, it’s fun listening to you get more and more frustrated.”

“As charming as ever, Raven.”

You didn’t know how you felt about him using your alias rather than your name. You knew you’d asked him to, or rather, harshly told him to, but he’d used your actual name a few times since then. But you didn’t want to ask, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable.

You let the quiet blanket the two of you, debating whether or not to answer. You’d refused him everyday, but as more time passed, the more you remembered just how much you’d loved him.

“There was a rival gang in the neighbourhood next to ours. Always fighting us for territory or supplies. Honestly, I wanted them wiped out, but Prongs insisted that would make us far too many powerful enemies,” Levi had paused as you started the exposition, genuinely surprised you’d actually decided to give him a full answer, rather that the usual “I entered a sword headbutting contest” or something equally as ridiculous.

“We were at each other’s throats for years, never really landing a solid hit on the other’s gang, until the bastard managed to take one of my Shadows, Diablo, alive. I owed those people everything. They took me in when you—” you managed to stop yourself, but not fast enough for Levi to avoid feeling the gut punching guilt he felt whenever you accidentally mentioned him leaving. You really didn’t mean to, you were just used to talking more openly about it.

“Uh, sorry. Yeah, they took me in, so I owed them a lot. Plus, I’d known them for years by now. I trusted them and they trusted me. I wasn’t about to abandon her,” Levi could hear your conviction and resolve in the cadence of your voice, and silently wondered when you’d become so strong. He’d almost forgotten he was supposed to be treating you badly damaged back, until you hissed slightly. Looking down, he realised he’d pressed a little too hard with the cloth against your tender skin.

“Shit, sorry.”

“‘S’fine. Just concentrate, yeah?” despite your condition, you still had it in you to crack cocky jokes. Levi had half the mind to swat the back of your head with his cloth, but he decided to be merciful.

You left it a beat before you continued.

“Anyway, I didn’t have a choice. But it turns out, all the creepy bastard wanted to do was to make sure everyone knew I wasn’t untouchable. Then maybe we’d stop having smaller gangs ally with us. I let him scar my face, and in return he gave us Diablo back, completely unharmed. It was really fucking weird now that I think about it,” Levi pondered this for a moment, before another question popped into his head.

“What happened to him?”

“Who?”

“The creepy guy, idiot.”

“Call me an idiot again, I fucking dare you.”

“What will you do? You can hardly stand.”

“I don’t need to stand to beat your sorry ass.”

Shit, he’d missed this. This playful banter between the two of you. He’d missed it so goddamn much.

“He found one of my blades stuck in his throat pretty soon after,” Levi grunted in approval, a small smile bloomed across his face at the thought.

Good.

Creepy son-of-a-bitch.

The two of you continued in a comfortable silence for a short while, before your slightly mischievous voice cut through it again.

“Okay, my turn,” you sounded far too nonchalant for his liking, Levi narrowing his gaze to the back of your head.

“Your turn?”

“You’ve been asking me questions for the last few days, and I haven’t asked you one once,” if Levi didn’t know better, he’d say you were almost pouting. He was tempted to turn your head to check, but it seemed you still weren’t entirely comfortable with the whole being touched thing.

He hadn’t asked you about that yet.

“Alright, alright. One question.”

“How come you get countless and I only get one?”

“Call it a Captain’s privilege,”

“Pffft, Captain my ass,”

“Just ask your stupid question.”

You laughed at his feigned frustrated tone, knowing he was loving this as much as you were. You allowed yourself to think about how you wanted to phrase this.

“Are they still here with you? Farlan and Isobel?” you had been slightly hesitant to ask this, since he hadn’t mentioned them once. You didn’t know them personally, only seeing them fleetingly when Levi would usher you into his room, or having sparing conversation with them when Viper sold them that ODM. And judging by his pained silence, you now feared his answer.

“Yes and no,” your question had definitely caught him off guard. He didn’t even think you remembered them, so for you to ask after them was a little out of the blue. Hence why he opted to mimic your response from a few days ago.

You had clearly caught on.

“The hell does that mean?”

Levi realised he probably couldn’t tend to your back and tell this story at the same time. He was going to need all his strength to suppress the torrent of emotions he knew he was about to unlock. Sensing his change of tone, you slowly shifted so you were sitting next to him, making sure you didn’t move too quickly or awkwardly so as to not irritate your painful back.

You searched his features in the silence, partially hidden by the bangs you used to love running your hands through. You couldn’t help but wonder whether or not they were as soft as they used to be.

“It was my fault,” he admitted quietly. You hated seeing Levi like this. You’d only seen him like this once before, when Kenny abandoned him. You vowed you would never let him feel like this again as long as you were by his side.

This is what happens when you’re separated.

“What was your fault?” you gently prompted, not wanting to push him, but rather wanting to let him know that you were willing to listen.

“It was our first expedition. I was naive, agreeing to let them come with us, rather than the original plan which was for me to go alone. Raven, the reason I— the reason we left, was because we were recruited for a job, and killing Erwin Smith was part of that. But none of us knew what to expect beyond the walls. We’d trained but, we didn’t know what to expect when facing an actual titan,” you didn’t press further when he took pauses or longer breaths. You were happy he was comfortable enough with you now to even tell you this. “Everything was going smoothly. Too smoothly, and it wasn’t long before it all went to shit. I lost sight of them when the storm hit, losing them in the fog. I was completely powerless to stop an Abnormal. Shit, I didn’t even know it had passed me. I just saw bodies and limbs everywhere and knew I had to turn back. By the time I got there, it was too late. They were both gone,” Levi’s fist clenched into a ball, taking his focus away from the pain in his chest to the one in his palm. He didn’t even realise his eyes were closed until he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He stiffened under your touch, not quite able to believe how far the two of you had come in such a short amount of time.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, Levi,” he didn’t really understand what you were apologising for, or why you felt the need. Afterall, it was him who left you.

“I vowed after that day I wouldn’t have any regrets. Some jackass said that if I did, their deaths wouldn’t mean anything. But I knew I would always have one. I knew I would always regret leaving you behind,” Levi looked to you through his bangs, an expression of guilt etched into his hardened face. You forgave him at that moment. You forgave him for everything.

“I’m here now, aren’t I? And whilst I may not be the same girl you left behind, I still have her memories,” your hand slid from its position on his shoulder to rest over his heart, feeling it flutter within his sturdy ribcage.

Levi faintly wondered if he was dreaming. If you could feel his heart rate increase with every touch.

“That’s why you said yes and no, isn’t it? Because they’re not physically here, but they are here,” Levi could do nothing but nod, his eyes trained on your face like a hawk. He wanted permission. Begged for it through his dark, swirling eyes. Screamed for it in the way his eyes flickered to your lips, your face so close he could smell that scent of freshly baked bread you’d always carried with you, even beneath all the filth. A few centimetres further and you would have what you’d wanted for ten long years. What you both have wanted.

“You sound ridiculous,”

“Your fault,” he could feel the flutter of your breath against his face, wishing nothing more than for you to close the distance.

Levi slowly brought his hand from his lap, his palm rising to cup your cheek.

It didn’t even get close before you flinched, eyes darting to his raised hand.

And just like that, all the tension dissolved. As if you hadn’t been busy getting lost within the storm that were his irises. Levi pulled back, as if he himself had been struck.

“I’m sorry… I wasn’t thinking,” he rose from his position next to you, wanting nothing more than for the ground to swallow him whole.

How could he be so damn selfish? It was obvious you couldn’t do anything like that right now. Maybe not ever. And he was getting way ahead of himself. You had already said the girl who loved him was dead, he couldn’t even think how or why he would assume just because your body was present, your mind was as well. Just because he was willing, why would you be willing as well?

Except you were.

So. Fucking. Willing.

And you cursed yourself for these instinctive reactions. Every sudden movement had your mind flashing back to training. Back to Viper’s brutal learning methods. It wasn’t even that much longer after Levi left you were made the Raven. After Viper’s death, it was almost instantaneous. But that didn’t stop those seven months of brutal punishments to leave a permanent scar on your psyche. You wished you could find your voice to reassure him that you’d get over this.

But you couldn’t.

And Levi was once again the first to speak.

“I should go. I’ll see you tomorrow Raven—”

“(Y/N),” you corrected him. After countless times of him calling you by your alias, you didn’t think you could stand it anymore. Levi raised his brow, seemingly a little confused by your interruption. “I’m not The Raven anymore. Technically that title belongs to Prongs now. So it’s just (Y/N),” despite the awkwardness of your recent encounter, you still felt that familiar warmth blossom in your chest at his softened smile, and quietly wonder if anyone else ever saw him smile this much.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, (Y/N),” you returned his expression, before lying back down on your side. This was your last night in your cell, before you’d be free to join the Scouts. You silently scoffed at the irony of that statement, but nothing could quell your small candle of hope as you listened to Levi’s footsteps get quieter and quieter. Maybe things weren’t so shit up here after all.

꧁ꨄ꧂

“You know, Raven, I’m going to miss our little nighttime meetings,” another harsh blow to your stomach sent you reeling, eyes screwed shut in both pain and defiance. They were trying everything they could to break you tonight. Blood running freely down your abdomen. Fresh bruises now blossoming over the wilted petals of previous nights.

Still you refused to break. Solid walls of spite had erected around your mind, and they wouldn’t be cracked or broken. Not by anything. So you took it. You took your punishment, only opening your mouth to hurl obscene insults or vile curses in their direction. Mocking the way they struck, laughing at their lack of strength. It only resulted in harsher blows, but it was worth seeing the frustration on their faces when you didn’t scream in agony.

“You know who you remind me of like this? I only made the connection a few nights ago. Strung up and beaten like your good-for-nothing father,”

That struck a chord in you. Your eyes flew open, staring at the ground in horror. This is what had happened to him? They had taken him and beaten him? Was he still alive? Was he here somewhere?

The man, who you’d dubbed Dirt, answered all your questions with his next jab.

“A shame he only lasted a few days. You on the other hand… you’re much more fun to play with,” a feral grin sliced through his face as he circled you, drawing back to land three excrutiating blows against your lower back. You grit your teeth, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. You didn’t think you had a heart to shatter. You didn’t think any of it remained for it to be broken again.

The MPs had taken two father figures from you.

That grin still adorned Dirt’s face as he went to swing the metal bat again, only to be interrupted by the door behind you opening. Dirt’s eyes narrowed, before whoever it was seemed to please him. God you couldn’t wait for the day where you tore that venomous smile right off his fucking face.

“Captain Ackerman. To what do we owe the pleasure?” you froze. What the hell was he doing here? Why did he always have to arrive during the moments where you really didn’t want him to see you.

But you weren’t expecting to feel a kernel of hope as he spoke.

You weren’t expecting the small smile that etched into your sweat slickened face.

“I was sent to observe. Since she’ll be joining the Survey Corps, I’m here to ensure you don’t break her,” Levi sounded as bored as ever, and you almost huffed a laugh.

Dirt scoffed, in irritation that he wouldn’t get to sever your spine with brute force.

“Very well. However, I must ask you to stand back. She swings like a stallion’s cock sometimes,” If it weren’t directed at you, you would have laughed at the comment. In any other situation, it would have been rather funny.

Just not this one.

Levi had never felt so sick. As soon as he walked in, seeing you strung up like that, helplessly, he had to force down the instinct to rip every one of these torturous bastards to ribbons. He’d never had to have such a tight hold on his emotions in his life, because if that hold slipped…

This would become a blood bath.

“Anyway Raven, where were we?” he asked, though the question was rhetorical. You knew he remembered. He was just trying to provoke a response out of you. But knowing Levi was here gave you a strength you weren’t expecting.

Looking up through your hair, you shot a glare through the thick, matted strands.

“Choke on your own blood, fuckface,” you spat, kicking weakly towards him. It wasn’t the show of defiance you’d wanted, but it seemed to get the message across. You were prepared for whatever consequences there would be for such a demonstration.

The repercussions came immediately. Roughly digging his fingers into your chin, Dirt forced you head up to look at him, his face a picture of mock amusement.

Levi’s jaw clenched.

“Come now Raven. Not trying to impress Captain Levi now, are you?” your eyes flickered over to Levi, his expression unreadable, grey hues trained on the two of you. A rumble of laughter echoed around the chamber as Dirt took in your spiteful expression. “Now I’m left wondering, how somebody like you could come from somebody like your pathetic father. How somebody so defiant, so fucking strong,” —he harshly jabbed at your stomach with the hilt of his bat— “Could be the daughter of somebody so weak,”

“Shut the fuck up,” you rasp, hot fury surging through your veins. How fucking dare he? How dare he insult your father this way. He was a good man. An honest man. He did nothing wrong. Nothing to warrant his or your mother’s death.

“Hm. No, I think I’ll keep talking. This might finally break you.”

“I’ll fucking KILL YOU,” the hook keeping your arms above your head creaked as you thrashed, trying to free yourself to wrap your hands around his goddamn throat.

“You should have heard his cries. His pathetic whimpers as we carved into his flesh. They were… amusing.” No. This wouldn’t be your downfall. You refused. This wasn’t it. You would not be broken by this.

“At least tell me what he died for. At least tell me why you took him, you shit-eating pig!” you spat viciously, trying once again to get free. It was infuriating more than anything. You had so many questions, never knowing why your parents had been killed. Why you came back to your house in disarray, crimson staining the floorboards as your mother’s blood drained from the gash in her throat. Your father, nowhere to be found.

Though he managed to keep his expression neutral, Levi thought back to your father. For the short time he knew him, he was a kind man. He did what he could for the people around him, always feeding those who looked starving. He was convinced that was where you got your compassion from. Why the hell would they take him and torture him?

“Why? He didn’t tell you? Interesting. Your father knew the location of The Nest long before you became our problem. You thought it was a coincidence Viper just happened to take you in? Please, this job was enjoyable enough, don’t make me laugh with your naivety as well,”

“You’re lying. My father was a baker. He was a good man. He wasn’t involved in our criminal shit!”

“Have you noticed a pattern in your life, Raven? Have you noticed how we tried everything to prevent you from falling down this path?” your jaw flickered at Dirt’s tone, mocking you as if they had done you a service.

“We thought your father would introduce you to a life of crime, so we got rid of him for you. When you fell into the care of Viper; well, we got rid of him for you as well,” his smile was snake-like as flashes from that night plagued your mind. Pressed up against the wall as your mentor was savagely dealt with. Begging at them. Screaming at them to stop. To let him go. Only for them to raise a rifle to his head, and paint the wall with his blood.

Dirt imitated a gun with his fingers, putting them up to your forehead.

“Bang.”

Slowly, you stopped thrashing, though the hatred in your veins didn’t cool. You simmered silently, raising your eyes once again. No tears. No sorrow. Nothing but feigned indifference flickered in the low light.

Dirt looked at you for a moment, eyebrows creasing in irritation as he stepped back, twirling the bad in his hands before repeatedly cracking it against your empty stomach. Levi only just managed to control his breathing as he watched helplessly, flinching subtly as every blow connected with your too-skinny body. Clearly Dirt was taking out some intense frustration. He’d just managed to compose himself when the bastard’s eyes turned to him. That fucking smile poisoned his features as he extended the handle of the weapon.

“Captain Levi. She killed a few of your men, did she not? Why don’t you see if you can break the whore?” You almost scoffed in amusement. Levi wouldn’t do that. Not to you. Not after everything the two of you had been through.

You’d finally found each other again.

You were so sure.

You were so sure of yourself.

You were so sure of him.

You’d rekindled that trust over the last week.

You’d rekindled something you thought was dead.

You were so sure.

Until he took the handle.

And the white hot knife of betrayal twisted into your gut once again.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

What the hell was he supposed to do?

Shit.

The weight of the bat felt ten times heavier than anything he’s ever held in his life. The weight of what he was about to do.

Fuck.

As excruciating as this was to watch, he knew it was ten times worse for you. He knew every blow, every crack, was undoing hours of hard work soothing your aches and bruises. Each thud against your body sent jolts of electricity through him. Nerve ends alight with adrenaline, heart beating as if he was about to fight every single one of these bastards just to get them away from you.

Still you have not broken. He couldn’t pinpoint the slight warmth in his chest, couldn’t comprehend what it was. Was he impressed? Surprised?

Proud…?

Levi wasn’t sure if the look of soul shattering betrayal in your eyes was worth it as his hands gripped the cool metal, slightly slickened with your blood.

He would explain it to you.

He would.

Once you were back in your cell, he would tell you why he did it.

But for now, his glare only darkened as he stepped forward. He couldn’t stand the expression on your face. Confused bewilderment, as if trying to work out what he was thinking.

Levi begged you to stop. Stop looking at him like that. Stop trying to work him out because not even he knew if this was the right thing to do.

It was almost a relief when your wide eyes clouded with heartbreaking realisation and acceptance.

A hiss escaped your lips at the first crack. Somehow, this felt more painful than anything those pitiful soldiers could do. Your eyes screwed shut, jaw clenched so hard you were afraid it would shatter into a million pieces.

Each blow felt so precise. So measured and controlled. It stung your heart more than anything else. You’d been betrayed. Again. For the second time in a week. Betrayed by the two people you’d ever loved. Scarlett, who’d picked you up when you were sure nobody else could. Who nursed your broken bones and your broken soul.

And by the first man who ever held your heart.

And truthfully, still did.

Was that all this last week had been?

A ploy just to fuck with you. To earn your trust only to immediately shatter you once again? To break your spirit? Granted, nobody knew the nature of your relationship between you and Levi, but that didn’t matter. The man you loved had just stabbed you in the back.

Again.

So much had happened in the last week. So much had been brought to the surface. It would take years to unpack it all, not that you had any intention of doing that. You just wanted it all gone. To bury it with your fathers. To never think about it again.

You were dragged from your thoughts by a shock of agony sparking up your spine, stemming from your lower back. It was Dirt’s favourite place to attack. Whenever he thought you were being too feisty, too aggressive. He would land as many blows to your lower back as he saw fit.

Admittedly, you doubted Levi knew you’d been snapping back spitefully all session before he arrived, but that didn’t quell the raging fire of hatred as your lips parted without your permission.

A broken cry of anguished agony wracked from your chest, chilling the air of the humid chamber.

Levi froze, horror flashing across his usually schooled features.

He’d broken you.

Levi had broken you.

And with it, any bond he’d managed to salvage over the last week. Any bridge he’d started to rebuild now came crashing down around him.

That one well placed crack had ripped away at your resolve, exposing the tired, hurt, beaten girl beneath.

The room seemed to have stilled. All falling into quiet awe at what had just happened. A slow clap split the stagnant air as Dirt walked up from where he was leaning against the wall. Levi was tempted to turn the bat on him, but he found himself unable to move.

“Your reputation precedes you, Captain. Striking her lower back like that after leaving it to simmer? Genius! We should have asked you to join us earlier,” Dirt cackled in delight as he produced a knife from his pocket. Reaching up, he easily sliced through the ropes binding your hands.

Stone rose up to greet your body as you fell uselessly to the ground, legs too weak to hold you.

“Oh dear. Are you dead? Maybe you and your father had more in common that I originally thought,”

“Enough.” Dirt’s jeering was interrupted by the no-bullshit tones of Levi, causing the soldier to whirl around. He’d finally managed to find his voice, once again reining himself in.

“But Captain Levi, Sir, she’s The Raven. Don’t you think she deserves some extra time with us tonight?”

“If you don’t leave now I’ll make sure it’s you who won’t be able to walk. Go,” you couldn’t tell if this was a blessing or a curse. If he was an angel or a demon.

Actually no, scratch that.

He was a demon, and this was a curse.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to move as you heard busy footsteps around you, assuming the four horsemen were gathering their effects.

“I do hope you make her crawl back to her cell, Captain. We all know your reputation for cleanliness. It would be a shame to dirty your hands touching this filthy whore,” Dirt drawled one more savage insult, before you heard his echoing steps get further and further away. You hoped the day would never come where you had to see his face again.

The silence in the room now was suffocating. You could both feel the emotions radiating off each other now the MPs were gone. He could feel your loathing, and you could feel his disgust. Or what you thought was disgust. What you assumed was disgust.

How could he not be disgusted? He must be. To do what he just did. You didn’t understand why he would come down everyday and help you if he felt such hatred towards you.

No, that’s a lie.

You did understand.

But that truth hurt so much more than anything else tonight.

It had sowed the seed of doubt in your mind. You knew you weren’t a good person. In fact, to most soldiers and nobles you were a devil. But you’d always clung onto the hope that everything you did was to help people. You stole medicine, you slit the throats of rapists, you provided weapons to those who didn’t have enough to fend for themselves.

There was a small part of you that truly believed you were doing good.

That small part had just been crushed, along with several bones.

Gathering what little strength you had, you extended a limp arm in front of you. Fuck it, you weren’t going to sleep here on a floor soiled by your own sweat, blood and saliva.

You would crawl if you had to.

“(Y/N)...” all he wanted to do was hold you. All he’d wanted to do since he’d found you again was hold you. He’d been so close yesterday, but he’d fucked that up.

Now he was sure you’d never willingly let him hold you again. The bat fell from his hand as if he’d realised it was covered in poison, heart clenching at the way you instinctively threw your arms above your head, terrified of some other attack.

You hated how his voice carried so much comfort. Hated how it soothed your raging mind. God you wanted nothing more than to rip his fucking tongue out and make sure he never spoke to you like that again.

A gentle hand landed on your shoulder, forcing you to stop.

“Get… get the fuck… off me… Get the fuck off me,” you couldn’t fight back as he tucked his arms under your legs and upper back, wincing as he lifted you into his grip. “Don’t… Don’t fucking touch me,” there was no strength left in you to push against him as he carried you back, but that didn’t stop you from weakly hitting the arms that held you.

You didn’t understand. One moment he was savagely beating you, and the next he was cradling you against his chest, holding you close as he took you to your cell.

Laying you down, he hoped you understood why he did what he did. It was a fool’s hope, he knew.

He realised you definitely didn’t understand when you started fighting back.

With a sudden surge of strength, you lunged for him. It was a weak attack, and you didn’t really know what you were trying to achieve as you threw yourself towards him with a cry of anguished rage, but you also didn’t care.

“I fucking trusted you,” you spat in between your flailing limbs. It really didn’t take long for Levi to pin your arms either side of your head, hovering over your body.

“(Y/N), stop,” He tightened his grip on your wrists as you struggled against his hold. It would have been a real test of strength for both of you had you not spent the last week having the life beaten out of you. You were weaker than you’d ever been, and he was taking advantage.

“I was right the first time. You don’t get to call me that. You don’t ever get to call me that. You sick, twisted BASTARD. So that was why you lied to me. That was why you didn’t tell me why you were helping me. You fucking coward, is that all you were doing? Convincing me I was safe with you? Tricking me into thinking you still actually cared about me you filthy fucking LIAR,” you barked a mirthless laugh, baring your teeth in a visceral snarl. “I swear to you Levi, I will not fucking stop until my knife is buried your goddamn THROAT!” you struggled again, twisting as much as you could beneath him, trying to free your arms, your hands, anything that could help you take him down.

He deserved this. He knew he did. Levi looked into the burning betrayal in your eyes and knew he deserved this. He would take every verbal blow you threw at him because he knew he deserved it. But he had to explain. He didn’t care. You could hurl whatever you wanted at him, but he wouldn’t leave until he had the chance to explain himself.

Then he would never see you again.

If that’s what you wanted.

“Just calm down, for a minute, please,” you hadn’t heard him beg like that in a very, very long time. Shit, you fucking hated what it did to you. In this position, your wrists held above your head, his arms caging you in, his legs either side of your hips...

The room suddenly felt far too warm.

“What could you possibly have to say to me? I fucking trusted you. You disgusting son-of-a-bitch. I can’t believe I actually thought—“

Levi finally lost his temper.

“What? You thought what? That just because we found each other again we’d play happy families? Grow the fuck up, Raven,” he spat your alias, finally releasing all the fury he’d pent up. He knew this was a mistake. None of this was your fault. He’d been angry with how you’d been treated. Utterly beside himself at Erwin.

And you were taking the fall for it.

“I didn’t lie to you, I didn’t have a fucking choice. If anyone saw me treat you any differently, they would start to question it. They would question why I was showing pity to a criminal. The Raven, no less. And I can’t—”

“Oh I’m sorry, I would hate to ruin your reputation, Captain,” you struck back with just as much venom. Just as much fury.

“Let me finish. I can’t let them get to you anymore than they already have. It was either them or—”

“Because I’m just so import—” you almost cried out as the grip on your wrists tightened, knowing they would leave yet another bruise on your body.

“Let. Me. Finish.” Levi narrowed his eyes, returning the glare you were holding on him and not continuing until you yielded, finally looking away and clamping your mouth shut. “It was either them or me. I could let them continue to beat the shit out of you mercilessly, or I could do it myself. I could try and make it better. I couldn’t fucking watch that shit anymore. I couldn’t fucking stand it. Those filthy bastards laying their dirty hands on you. Hurting you. Shit, you were half dead when I walked in. I was scared you were for a moment. Terrified they were just beating a corpse. But you’re so much stronger than I ever gave you credit for. They never fucking broke you. And they never will. Because if they touch you again, if they fucking look at you, I will go the the ends of the goddamn earth and tear them apart, because I care about you,” Levi hadn’t noticed he was panting. He hadn’t noticed the tears slipping down your cheeks. He didn’t think his self hatred could sink any deeper, but now he’d made you cry silent tears.

Loosening his grip on your wrists, he looked at you as though he’d been responsible for your murder.

“So, it was mercy? That’s what’s considered merciful up here?” you couldn’t really believe it. Twice in two days Levi had spoken more to you than you thought he ever did back when you belonged to each other. You didn’t think you’d ever sounded so small. So vulnerable. “Let me ask you this, Levi. Was it merciful on me, or merciful on you? Because you sure as hell didn’t make things better for me,” despite the quieter volume, your voice was still harsh.

But you had to know.

You wanted nothing more than to pull him in and thread your hands through his hair. To feel his body against yours. For his heartbeat to lull you to sleep. But you had to know whether he did this for you, or himself.

You understood now. You really did. And put in the same situation, you didn’t think you’d do any differently.

“Honestly…? Merciful to me. I couldn't bear it. I tried. I tried so fucking hard. But I couldn’t let them hurt you anymore,” his voice was no louder than a choked, guilt ridden whisper.

That’s all you needed to hear. Slipping your wrists free of his hands, you reached up. Cupping the sides of his face, you brought him down to you, since you couldn’t exactly sit up and go to him.

As soon as your lips returned home to his, you couldn’t stop the few tears from escaping your closed eyes.

Levi’s own eyes widened, and he was suddenly convinced he was dead. Was this actually happening? After everything he’s just done, everything he’s just said.

You forgave him?

When your tongue gently skirted his bottom lip, he decided contemplating forgiveness was something for later. Terrified of hurting you further, he rested his weight on his elbows, finally closing his eyes. He’d wanted this for so long. Since he laid eyes on you for the first time in ten years, he’d wanted nothing more than to envelop your mouth with his own.

With your eyes closed, you didn’t mind when his hand came up to gently caress the apple of your cheek. You didn’t mind when you opened your lips for his tongue to hesitantly slip in and explore your mouth, that slick muscle moving against yours. You didn’t mind when his hand travelled down to cup the side of your neck, tilting your head up to deepen the kiss.

Neither of you wanted to break away, having waited far too long for this moment. You reveled in the groan he emitted down your throat as your left hand found its way to his undercut, gently scratching and caressing in desperation. You hadn’t heard that sound in so long and you instantly craved more.

Levi’s eyes rolled back into his skull behind his closed lids, feeling your hands in his hair. God, he didn’t want to fuck you in a cell, but your hands and tongue were making it difficult for him to control himself.

He was the first to pull back, instantly missing the warmth of your mouth.

“I don’t understand,” he breathed, looking down into your eyes. You could see the swirling confusion in those sterling orbs as they flickered in the low light. You could see the arousal in his dark pupils. Feel it against your inner thigh. You wanted to take him right here and now, but not only did you acknowledge the fact you were literally in a prison cell…

You weren’t sure you were ready. Not yet. Not after everything.

“Levi… if you had done that for my sake, I would have shattered both your kneecaps,” you earned yourself a gentle laugh, his thumb coming up to smooth down your eyebrow. “But you didn’t. I know you feel selfish, and I know you hate yourself for it, but I also know that it was either that, or you beat them to death with that goddamn bat. I know you, Levi. You haven’t changed much yourself,” your left hand came back, softly carding through those ebony bangs.

Levi felt like he could fly. Felt as though you’d returned the wings he’d lost when he thought he’d never see you again.

(Y/N), I want to apolo—”

“Shut the fuck up.”

With that, you stretched up to capture his mouth again, instantly feeling like you’d come back home. You didn’t care about the surge of pain coursing through your abdomen and back. That’s what he was to you.

He was home.

You felt his length twitch in his constraints as both your hands found purchase in his hair, gently tugging at the black strands.

“Fuck…” he breathed into your mouth, his hips bucking involuntarily as you sucked his lower lip between your teeth.

You kept having to consciously remind yourself that you are in fact in a dank, filthy cell. And enveloping him between you increasingly slick folds was wildly inappropriate.

Levi thought it was entirely unfair how you were managing to drag whines and moans from him with nothing but your fingers and teeth. So he decided it was his turn to give something back.

His hand travelled down your body, almost instinctively finding the crease in your thighs. He swallowed his own groan of ecstasy as his knuckles grazed his arousal, opting instead to focus on the way your hips rose to meet the pads of his fingers, gently rubbing your swollen, clothed clit. His circular motions drawing out those small whimpers he’d craved to hear.

“Mmn, L-Levi... ACK, fuck!” your moan of pleasure turned into a small cry of pain as your abs contracted, sending yet another lightning bolt through your system. Levi withdrew his hand immediately, eyes instantly clearing and recognising your signs of discomfort.

“Shit (Y/N), your back,” you felt your heart swell at his concern, though internally cursed yourself.

“‘S’fine,” you insisted, rising up once again to grasp his lips with yours, only to be met with thin air and you ex(?) lover looking down at you.

“No, it’s not. C’mere,” Levi sighed and lifted himself off you, careful not to cause you any further damage. He looked for permission before gently turning you on your side, as if your tongue hadn’t been down his throat less than thirty seconds ago. He cursed his erection, finding himself a little hindered by it as he walked over to the faucet, allowing himself a few moments reprieve before removing the handkerchief from his pocket and running it under the tap.

Though the mirror was cracked, he could still see his slightly swollen lips, distorted against the spider webbing fractures. Could still see the mark you’d left on his face. Shit, he wished for those marks to be left elsewhere. His mind wandered back to the way you used to settle between his thighs, teasing him until you got him to crack. He loved the way you could coerce broken pleas from his throat. Adored the black-blue bites you left on the inside of his thighs, before your warmth enveloped him. Your flexible muscle flicking up and down his sensitive length, running over that prominent vein he hadn’t felt you caress in too long. He missed feeling the vibrations of your chuckle when he begged for you to let him cum. When he felt his balls tighten with release, and yet you denied him still.

But most of all he missed tasting you. He missed the way your arousal freely leaked onto his tongue. He missed the way your hips rose to meet his fingers, that breathy gasp when he found your hidden spot. The begs and cries you made when you wanted him to let you cum. When you whined for his dick to replace his fingers. Fuck, he missed the way your thighs locked his head between them as he brought you to climax with nothing but his tongue flicking over you little, sensitive button. Over, and over, and over again.

“Having trouble?” you grinned from your position on the sorry excuse for a mattress. You’d managed to turn yourself over to watch him, disregarding any agony you felt. You wouldn’t miss this for the world. You wouldn’t miss seeing Levi all riled up and unable to focus simply because of the administrations with your mouth.

“Shut up,” he grumbled, turning the faucet off and ringing out the cloth in the sink. You chuckled at his tone and his predicament, loving every second of it. Though you couldn’t miss the small glint of amusement in his dark eyes. “Oi, turn back ‘round. ‘Need to get to your back,”

“I bet you do,”

“(Y/N)...” he warned, with no real malice in his tone. If this was any other man, you would have lunged at them for taking that tone with you. But this was Levi. Your Levi. You knew he would never hurt you. Not unless absolutely necessary.

Case and point: hitting you with a bat to avoid a murder charge.

Begrudgingly, you tore your eyes from his face, haphazardly twisting on the mattress to face away from him.

“Hm, good girl,” Levi purred, eyes gleaming at the way your thighs clenched in reaction. But any spark of arousal was swiftly extinguished, when your body twitched away from his as he took his seat behind you.

You clenched your eyes shut, hating yourself for the reaction you couldn’t control. You didn’t blame Viper for your now primal fear. You knew he was just teaching you what you needed to know, but he had no fatherly experience, and possibly caused more harm than good.

“‘M’ sorry, it’s not you, I promise. I just—”

“No. No apologising. It’s not your fault,” you nodded, not trusting your voice not to crack if you spoke up now.

Levi thought hard about how he wanted to do this without causing any more reaction from you. Attempting to keep his mind from wandering too far, he tried to understand what made you comfortable enough to bring him onto your mouth. To gently tug on his lower lip. To thread your hands through his hair and--

“I have an idea… (Y/N), watch what I’m doing,” you did as he asked, turning your neck as much as you could to watch the movements of his hand. You tensed as his palm hovered over your side. But when you didn’t feel anything, you unscrewed one tightly shut eye, peering at him curiously.

“(Y/N), can you raise your body for me, just to reach my hand?” this might actually work. Levi had been wracking his brains for a way for you to feel comfortable again with touch.

Hesitantly, you slowly raised your body to meet his fingers, almost freezing as you felt no reaction. You didn’t tense, you didn’t instantly balk under his touch.

You hadn’t cried in years, and yet throughout the course of this long, long night, you had cried twice, the corners of your lashes growing damp as a tear slipped down the side of your face.

Growing increasingly concerned by your lack of response, Levi was about to move his hand from your side, but was immediately stopped by your own fingers covering his.

“Don’t. Stay. Don’t move away,” his heart burned at your broken plea, his worried expression softening in slight relief.

“I won’t. (Y/N), I’m not going to touch you without your permission. Ever. But, if you’re comfortable with it, we can do this. If you’re happy with this,” Levi gently moved his thumb against the fabric of your shirt, caressing your side. Your choked laugh of happy disbelief caused his small smile to broaden ever so slightly.

“Yes. Yes i’m happy with this,” still having trouble believing this was truly happening, you closed your eyes in bliss, allowing a few more tears to escape.

“Okay, I’m going to move your shirt up, alright?” your heart sung at his sincerity, nodding silently once again as you felt the fabric of your shirt bunch up ever so carefully. You loved how he always made you feel so precious. Nothing was precious in the Underground, but somehow he always made you feel worth diamonds and gold. You’d forgotten what that was like, until the damp cloth once again soothed your aching welts, chasing away the throbs of pain.

Those spears of guilt once again plunged into Levi’s heart as he saw what they had done to you. What he’d done to you. You were always so forgiving when it came to him. You always have been. He could lock himself in his room for days, not speak to you for hours on end and you would always be there to hold him when the pressure finally cracked. Always there to soothe him when he opened up after long weeks of isolation. When those memories of his mother dragged up again. When the day Kenny left forced him to hide away until he couldn’t take it anymore.

You always forgave him.

And could always sense what he was thinking.

He came back to the present when your hand squeezed his, as if you knew where his mind had taken him.

“It’s okay, Levi,” your soft reassurance broke his heart.

“I should be saying that to you,”

“Go on then,” you retorted, not even trying to hide the mischief in your voice

Levi chuckled, moving his hand from under yours to stroke your hair.

“It’s okay, (Y/N),”

“I feel thoroughly reassured,”

“Tch, shut up brat,” god, at this point your heart could have been a choir. Singing once again at the soft amusement gently lacing his tone. But you internally cringed as fingers threaded through your grimy hair, reaching up to move it away.

“Levi, don’t. It’s fucking filthy,”

“So’s your face but I recall sucking on it a few moments ago,”

“Levi!” you couldn’t believe he’d just said that. He was never one to make such jokes. But you couldn’t deny you loved it. Loved his low, breathy laugh at your indignant call of his name.

“What? Am I wrong?” you couldn’t see his slightly cheeky smirk behind you. Or the way one brow raised in feigned curiosity.

“Well no, but—”

“Didn’t think so.”

“God you’re insufferable. Anyone would think you’re— OW!” you turned to look back at him in mock anger. He didn’t actually hurt you, and by looking at your swiftly disintegrating expresion, Levi was able to decipher you were just fucking with him. Rolling his eyes, he continued his administration with the cloth, watching fondly as you settled back down.

You only spoke again when that hand in your hair started moving.

“Levi, seriously, it’s gross. Just focus on my back,” when he didn’t reply, you once again twisted back to look at him, unable to decipher the expression on his face.

“Stay here,”

“Like I’m in any condition to move, asshole,”

“Tch, don’t be difficult. I’ll be back in a minute,” with a final caress of your head, Levi chucked the cloth back into the sink before standing to his feet. You were a bit of a sorry sight, lying on your side, shirt ridden up to reveal your bruised, still bloodied back. He’d managed to gently scrub off most of the crimson staining your skin, but he wanted to provide you with just a little more comfort, if he could.

You didn’t even try to escape when he left the door open. Too tired to move. Your limbs felt like lead everytime you attempted to shift, exhaustion clinging to your bones like shackles. You didn’t know how long you waited, but you felt yourself start to drift in and out of consciousness, unable to help yourself marvel at how easy it would be to slip into a deep sleep. Your mind was far too heavy to sift through the lake of emotions you’d found yourself submerged in. Just as you were about to succumb to the call of rest, your faultless alert system brought you back to consciousness, adrenaline injected into your veins as you shot upright at the sound of footsteps.

“Calm down, it’s just me,” your brittle nerves settled at the sound of his calming voice, heart leaping when you saw what he carried in his arms.

Levi had brought everything he thought he would need. A small metal basin containing a small flannel, a wash-cloth, a small cup, the shower soap and hair conditioner from his own quarters and a large towel to spare the mattress of the water. Kicking the cell door almost closed with his foot, Levi crossed to the sink once again, setting out the contents on the cracked porcelain before filling the basin.

He left the faucet running, turning back to you with the town folded on his arm.

“Gonna need you to move if we want to set this down,” you raised a suggestive eyebrow, mouth pulling into a small smirk. Levi rolled his eyes. “Not like that, brat. Unless you want to sleep on a damp mattress. It’s up to you, really,” the amused spark in his eye betrayed his neutral, blank face as you gently shimmied down the bed, making a space for him to set the towel down.

You watched as he removed his jacket, mouth watering ever so slightly as his shirt clung to his back, unable to tear your eyes away from the movement of his muscles. They had certainly developed well.

“Oi, stop ogling,” he smirked to you over his shoulder, earning a sly grin from you in response.

“Can’t help it,” you chimed, eyes flicking to his forearms as he rolled up his sleeves. Fuck, if only you weren’t in a jail cell. Or utterly filthy. Or just not ready for that yet.

If only you didn’t have a thousand things stopping you from pushing him against the wall and engulfing his cock in down your throat.

But for now, you just had to settle with undressing and fucking him with your eyes. Something that clearly didn’t go unnoticed, if the way he writhed slightly under your pinning gaze was anything to go by.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Levi tried to steer his thoughts away from his length stiffening once again. Fuck, the way you were staring at him, he was starting to feel hot beneath his shirt, despite the naturally cool temperature of the room. Your heated chuckle only fueled the flames.

“Aw, why? Are you hard?” you teased, raking your eyes up and down his figure, lingering on the small tent in his crotch. You shifted slightly, almost groaning as the mattress below you rubbed against your swollen folds.

“Tch, obviously. And I’m not going to deal with it in this filthy prison cell, so don’t make it worse brat,” Levi marvelled at your laugh. A proper, head thrown back laugh. He couldn’t stop the fond smile spreading across his face at the sight.

“Alright alright, I’ll stop eye-fuckinig you,” you managed to say, after regaining some sort of composure.

“You’re filthy,”

“Isn’t that why you’re about to bathe me?” you tilted your head slightly, watching him lift the basin from the sink after turning off the faucet. He didn’t deem your comment worthy of a response, opting instead to look back at you with a blank, deadpan expression. Tucking everything else under his arm, Levi returned back to your side. He thought for a moment about how he wanted to do this before, wedging the water basin between his legs.

“Lie back, place your head on my lap. Gonna’ wash your hair,” he instructed, busying himself with getting the small, brown bottle of hair soap. But he paused upon sensing your hesitation. Looking back to you, he searched your face, before slowly bringing his hand up.

You shied away, closing your eyes instinctively, almost bracing yourself for the contact that never came.

“Hey, not gonna touch you without permission, remember?” you opened your eyes to see his hand hovering next to your cheek. He was waiting for your next move, and you could see the slight hopeful spark in his eye.

So slowly, you tilted your head enough to gently nuzzle into his palm, your own hand coming up to keep him against your face.

Levi smoothed the skin under your eye with his thumb, trying his damndest not to let any tears well up in his eyes.

Unbeknownst to him, you were attempting to do the same. Not wanting him to see you cry for the third goddamn time tonight. But it became impossible when he said something you didn’t know you needed to hear.

“I missed you so much, firefly,” your breath hitched in your throat at the old nickname. He’d only ever use it in the softest moments in the Underground. Stroking your hair whilst lying in his bed. Staying up and keeping you company when you’d shoot awake from a nightmare. He was never one for nicknames, so one day when he, out of the blue, called you his firefly;

you’d almost cried.

Your eyes widened, hand gently squeezing his own to ground yourself. You let out something halfway between a laugh and a sob.

“I missed you too. So, so much,” you hardly had to move forward before your face was nestled in the crook of his neck, his arms slowly tucking you against his body. “I missed you so much,” you whispered again.

Levi didn’t think he’d ever been this happy, at least not for a long, long time. Ecstatic you felt comfortable enough to let him hold you. Though he was usually so good at keeping his feelings to himself, so much had happened over the last week, he felt the walls to his emotional dam cracking ever so slightly, a few tears lining his closed eyes. He could feel the collar of his shirt dampen as you shed silent tears, his thumb rubbing small circles against your back.

Levi held you like this for what felt like hours. Content to just be in each other’s arms once again. In reality, it had only been a few minutes before he gently shifted you so the back of your head rested against his lap.

“Never known you to be such a cry-baby,” he lightly teased, gathering what he could of your hair and soaking it within the basin still wedged between his knees.

“I’m not. I haven’t cried in years. Literally. Probably since Viper’s—” you stopped yourself, not expecting the casual statement to hurt quite as much as it did. “Viper’s death,” you finished quietly, eyes avoiding any direct contact with his own.

Levi took note of your tone change, reaching for the hair soap. He was only vaguely aware of the relationship between you and the old Nest leader. Finding out through those vile MPs.

“Want to talk about it?” The tone of his question matched yours as he lathered the gel into your now cleaner locks to make sure the grime and grease was properly dealt with.

“Honestly? Not yet. Maybe not ever. I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to anyone about it. Not even Prongs, or Wolf, and they were his Shadows before mine,” you fell silent for a moment, before looking back to him. “How did you do it? How did you just… leave everything behind?”

Levi sighed at the innocence of your question. The raw guilt he knew you were feeling. Knowing you were up here, safe, warm, comfortable, whilst so many people down there were still suffering. Still dying from easily preventable illnesses.

“I didn’t. Not really. I still find myself thinking back to those poor sods down there. But I couldn’t think about it for too long, because I would find myself thinking back to you,” his hand stroked the top of your now damp forehead, smoothing down the wet locks of your hair.

The basin sloshed slightly as you nodded, disheartened by the fact that this feeling of suffocating guilt would probably never leave you. Levi saw this in your face. He saw the exact same swirl of emotions he felt when he knew he would never return.

But you’d left behind so much more than he did. You had a trusted group. A family who would only know what happened to you through the words of that young girl.

“They’ll be safe, (Y/N). He may be an asshole sometimes, but I trust Erwin. He wouldn’t break his word,” running his hands through your soaked hair, Levi gently teased the knots out with his fingers, easily gliding through the now freed strands.

His reassurance calmed your worries. Levi hardly trusted anyone, you only ever knew him to trust Isobel, Farlan and yourself. This Erwin guy must have really made an impression.

Reaching back to the small flannel he’d brought down with him, he began drying your hair, setting the basin to one side. You didn’t think you’d ever felt this pampered. This well looked after. You thought you could certainly get used to it. Returning your thoughts to the conversation, you exhaled a sigh.

“Yeah, I know. It’s just… My job was to take care of them. My job was to stop something like this from happening. Our entire operation was compromised because my shitty partner couldn’t get over some grudge she had against a boy she’d never met,” you poked his chest as he rolled his eyes, looking down at you with a brow raised.

“So it’s my fault?”

“I didn’t say that,”

“You implied it,”

“Oh don’t be so sensitive,”

“I wasn’t the one who cheated,”

You almost sat bolt upright at that, if it weren’t for him anticipating the movement. What did he mean ‘cheat’? You didn’t cheat. You would never cheat. Loyalty ran through your veins like blood, and if you weren’t so incredulous you would have spotted the smallest hint of mischief in his steely eyes.

“Wh— Cheat? I didn’t cheat. What makes you think that?” your genuine concern broke his heart, and he almost felt bad for teasing you like this.

Almost.

Taking your face in both his hands, Levi failed to suppress the fugitive smirk on his face.

“We technically never broke up, brat,” you breathed a sigh of relief, before turning back to scowl at him, tempted to lightly smack the back of his head.

“Don’t fucking scare me like that, asshole,” your scowl held no heat, too relieved that he was just being pedantic rather than actually implying you would ever be disloyal. But your glare melted away at the rumble of a chuckle emitting from his chest. You rolled your eyes, trying your best to feign annoyance and failing miserably.  

Removing the small towel from your now damp hair, Levi deemed it dry enough for you to sleep on without catching a cold.

“There. Think you can do the rest yourself? I don’t wanna… make you uncomfortable or anything,” it was your turn for your heart to break, his consideration for your comfort and wellbeing always seemed to be his top priority. You took his hand in yours, gently stroking your thumb over his knuckles.

“You’ve done more than enough,” earnest gratitude swam in your eyes and it was all Levi could do not to stoop down and kiss you.

Instead, he stayed put for a little while longer, stealing all the seconds he could. He’d realised, with you joining the Survey Corps, you two wouldn’t be able to do this anymore. The company you’d both enjoyed for the past week would be ripped away by expeditions, training and paperwork.

So he greedily took as much time as the two of you could spare, before you would inevitably have to part ways.

“I have to go, (Y/N),” Levi whispered, although every part of him was longing to stay, especially when your face slowly fell in realisation.

“I know,” you tried to mask your melancholy with a gentle smile, but your voice betrayed you, breaking slightly as you spoke. Neither of you wanted to be the one to move. Neither of you wanted to be the first to burst the protective bubble of familiarity you both knew you wouldn’t feel again for a long, long time.

But to save him from doing it himself, you were the one to shift, allowing him to rise from the bed.

“I’ll uh, leave all this here and collect it early in the morning,” Levi shifted slightly awkwardly on his feet, running a hand through his hair. You nodded, adjusting yourself carefully. Your midsection didn’t hurt as much, more of an echoing throb, but you were still cautious nonetheless.

“Right, yeah. Probably a good idea, before anyone sees,” you shrugged, avoiding having to look at his face. You knew it would break both of you if you’d asked whether there was any chance of him staying.

Just for a little while longer.

“I’ll see you soon… Raven,” you felt your soul crack as he replaced your name with your alias. You knew it was right. You knew it was for the best. But that wouldn’t stop every fiber of your being shattering.

Levi hated how you said nothing as he turned to leave. He pretended not to notice your heartbreak as he deliberately called you Raven. He suppressed the urge to pick you up and take you with him. To carry you to his bed and cage you in his arms as you both fell asleep in each other’s embrace.

He didn’t know your prolonged silence was because you were gathering your courage. Silently arguing with yourself over what was right and what was wrong until you stopped him by calling his name.

“Levi…” There was no turning back now. You took a breath, finally raising your eyes to meet his now on the other side of the bars. “I—” love you.

You immediately stopped yourself, finding those three words caught in your throat. You couldn’t say them. Shit, you couldn’t say them.

You were a coward.

“Thank you,”

Levi stayed searching your face. He knew. He knew that wasn’t what you wanted to say. Because that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. He let loose a breath he didn’t know he was holding, giving you one last look of badly masked longing, before turning away.

“Training starts tomorrow,” though the words themselves were cold, his tone was laced with mourning as his footsteps echoed out of earshot, leaving you completely and utterly alone.

Levi had managed all but three steps into the hallway before his name was called by an irritatingly familiar voice.

“Ah, Levi. Good. My office. Now, if you’re not busy,” Erwin had a way of saying ‘if you’re not busy’ that sounded like he was really saying ‘there is absolutely no debate in this, you could be bleeding out and missing an arm and I would still expect you in my office within the next five minutes’. Levi knew he didn’t exactly have a choice.

“Sure. Let me make some tea and I’ll be right there,” he knew he’d made a mistake. The look in Erwin’s cerulean eyes told him that the tall blonde had figured something out. Something dangerous that could compromise his relationship with you.

Actually, he’d probably figured out he had a relationship with you.

Shit…

He was in so much trouble.

[parker-razor]

show me, feel me, teach me - ch. 4

previous // next

series masterlist!

female!reader x mando

word count: 2.8k

series summary: during a drinking game, you let slip that you don’t know much about sex. mando offers to show you what you’ve been missing, and you happily accept.

warnings: smut that’s so filthy it’s insane (extended warnings under the cut), lotssss of fluff, mentions of insecurities

a/n: today’s the first day i didn’t have to work in awhile and i had to write some more... this chapter in particular made me all blushy so lemme grab my vibrator real quick

extended warnings: somnophilia, oral (m and f receiving), thigh riding, grinding, cum eating, masturbation, multiple orgasms

*****

You watched Mando as he hauled the heavy, limp bounty up the ramp of the ship. You had offered to help, but Mando, ever the gentleman, refused. So, you and the kid watched him drag the lifeless body into the Crest, and into carbonite.

Apparently, Mando had gotten so excited to see you when he made it back to the ship last night that he abandoned the body at the foot of the ship and scurried inside and into your quarters. It wasn’t like the body was going anywhere, Mando had argued. He just needed to see you.

After your little… chat over the comm, Mando was still rearing to be with you. As soon as you had fallen asleep at the end of your call, he jumped to his feet and continued on his hunt at a speed he had yet to hunt at. He had thought that after getting some of his drive for you out of his system that he could rest for a while before he kept hunting. But just the opposite happened; hearing your voice, your moans, the way your words hit him right in the chest… Maker he just had to get back to you.

He couldn’t help himself when he saw you splayed out on your bed. Your tank top was almost see through, and you only had a pair of underwear on as bottoms. He just needed a taste.

After he quietly stripped his armor and clothes off him, he gently pulled your underwear down to your knees and knelt down on the bed. He must’ve not smelled too great after days of hunting, but he was too drunk on your presence to be self-conscious.

He couldn’t stop himself from delving between your thighs, making out with your dripping cunt. It must have still been wet from your earlier orgasm, or maybe you were dreaming of him. Maker, he hoped you were.

You were asleep, so it didn’t totally matter if he tasted you with any technique or rhythm. Flicking your clit with no real purpose other than to have your taste in his mouth, to have his tongue flooded with your essence. His cock hardened at an ungodly rate, and he couldn’t help but start stroking himself fast. He didn’t care about his pleasure, or frankly your pleasure; he just wanted to taste you.

All the sudden, he heard you speak up, and you were coming into his mouth with a vengeance, and he came all over his hand with you.

He didn’t want to bother you too much, so he figured one orgasm was enough (for now). He crawled up to you, kissing your shoulders and your neck and your cheeks. You had no doubt fallen back to sleep by then, and Mando was overwhelmed with sleep as well. He drifted off with his head rested on your chest, your hands carded through his curls as his breathing slowed.

Mando had never been with a woman like he had been with you. Sure, he hadn’t technically been with you in the biblical sense just yet, but this was so different. He had had one-night stands when he had time to spare on a hunt, some girl in a bar who gawked at his armor who he figured would be willing to let him get his frustrations out. A grateful damsel he saved, who was coincidentally being attacked by the bounty he was tracking. Not many women, but enough to know just what he was doing and just how to make someone writhe in pleasure.

But you… you were radiant.

Your beauty was unconventional; your skin rolled around your waist, your stomach hung over just a little with stretch marks littering your inner thighs and hips. When you slept, your neck folded into little rolls. But Mando adored all of it. Not in a patronizing way, but because you were truly just gorgeous. Not despite of your flaws, but because of them. They weren’t flaws to Mando, they were just what made you more and more perfect.

Many of the women he had been with exaggerated their pleasure. It wasn’t fake, just turned up a bit because they figured it would make Mando more confident. Mando hated that, when women would be dramatic when displaying their pleasure. You never did that, though. Your sounds were… primal. Like you were trying to hold them in, but you felt so good that you couldn’t help it. They were involuntary grunts, yells, and gasps. Just the memory of it made Mando hard under his armor.

Not to mention, you had never felt this way before. You didn’t know that there was an expectation for women to be loud and exaggerated in bed. The sounds you made were all you, and that is what got to Mando most.

Mando was pulled out of his daydreams as you approached him, feeling around his arms and shoulders.

“Do you have any cuts? What do you need treated? We don’t have a ton of bacta kits left, but if you really need it then-“

“I’m okay, I’m not hurt. Just a little bruised. All I want is some food and to hang out with you and the kid.”

You and Mando had grown accustomed to eating or drinking back-to-back since the drinking game that started all of this. It was better than Mando locking himself away in his quarters; he hadn’t shared a meal with someone in years. But being able to chat with you and enjoy his food was a luxury.

“What did this guy do?” you asked as you munched on some bread and cheese.

“No clue. They never really tell me, which I kinda get. A lot of these guys are scum bags, they should be ashamed,” Mando responded, taking a sip of water.

“Did this one put up a fight?”

“At first, but then he realized he couldn’t beat me.” You shivered for a moment, thinking about Mando’s strength. You knew the armor added another layer to make him seem bigger and stronger, but even without it he was built. He didn’t have a six-pack, he wasn’t totally shredded, but Maker, was he strong. His arms, his chest, his broad fucking shoulders, they made you needy. You had seen him knock out a man in one punch, some guy who had grabbed your ass at a bar. You didn’t know at the time why you felt an ache between your legs when you saw that, but now you do after your lessons.

After you had both eaten and fed Grogu, Mando decided it was time to depart to catch his second bounty. You grabbed any gear still lingering outside the ship, secured any loose weapons, and in no time Mando was preparing to take off. You were off to Naboo this time, a planet you had been dying to visit. Almost all of the planets Mando had taken you to were either barren or covered in buildings, large urban areas. Naboo was green, apparently, with beautiful buildings and cascading waterfalls. You couldn’t wait.

Mando sat in the pilot’s chair as you sat behind him in the passenger’s seat. Grogu, still exhausted from the three-day strike on sleep, snoozed in his enclosed pram in the captain’s quarters. So it was just you and Mando…

It was a bumpy takeoff; although Mando was a great pilot, the Crest wasn’t exactly shiny and new. The ship left Tattoine’s atmosphere, and after a few minutes of cruising in empty space, Mando put the ship into hyperspace.

It was quiet as Mando hit some random buttons and you watched the stars fly by you at an insane speed. You thought about last night, not remembering much other than coming hard. Were you dreaming? You remember waking to Mando’s arms around your waist and his face buried in your chest, but everything during the night was a blur.

“When… when you came back last night, did you fall right to sleep? Or did you-“

“Eat your pussy? Yeah, I just wanted to taste you. I hope that’s okay.” You gulped, slightly shocked at Mando’s bluntness. You were only really used to hearing him talk dirty while in the act, not him bringing it up so casually. You squirmed a bit in your seat, causing Mando to turn back to look at you.

“What, you like that? You like that I couldn’t wait for you to wake up before I tasted your cum? Yeah, I bet you do, pretty girl,” he rasped, making you whine and your legs clench together.

“Why don’t you come sit?”

“I’m… already sitting, Mando.”

“No, come sit over here, with me. On me.” Stars.

You rose from your seat as Mando turned his chair to face you so you’d have room to sit without the control panel in the way. His legs spread, and he sat back in his chair with his arms resting on his knees. Kriff, he looked so fucking good.

You weren’t sure how Mando wanted you to sit on him, so you straddled one of his thighs, gasping as the hard metal plate met your core.

“Oh, is that what you want, sweet thing? You wanna sit on my thigh?”

“Yeah Mando, can I please?”

“Of course, baby, just wasn’t expecting you to sit on me like that.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself in closer to him. As you moved closer, you couldn’t ignore the way it felt when you rubbed yourself on his armored thigh. It felt fucking good, the same friction you felt when Mando would use his fingers on you. Out of instinct, you couldn’t help but do it again.

“Oh fuck, is my good girl gonna grind on my thigh? Does that feel good?” You whined, Mando’s hands grasping your hips to encourage your movements. “Go ahead, baby, get yourself off on me. Take what’s yours.”

“M-Mando… feels s-so good…” Your hips sped up as the friction continued to nurse the ache growing in your cunt.

“Want it to feel better, honey? Here, let me show you,” Mando groaned, lifting you so you were planted not on his thigh, but directly over his crotch. He wasn’t wearing a codpiece, you didn’t expect him to when all he was doing was flying. So you gasped when you felt his hard cock rub up against you cunt.

“Oh, s-stars, Mando, I like this a lot…”

“Yeah? You like feeling my cock rub on you? Go ahead, grind on it, make yourself feel good.” His grip on your hips were bruising as you ground your pussy hard onto his crotch. The head of his cock nudged itself right against your clit between your clothes, making your eyes cross and hands grasp at Mando’s shoulders.

“Oh, I bet that feels s-so good, pretty girl, it feels good for m-me too… Fuck, I can feel how wet you are, it’s seeping through my pants. Keep going, you’re doing so good for me.”

Your moans got louder and louder, sounding out as “uh uhs.” Your eyebrows creased together, and Mando grabbed your cheeks to tilt your eyes down towards his.

“Look at me, baby, let me see you when you cum. Let me look into your eyes. Maker, your p-pussy is so wet, I can feel it. Come on baby I know you wanna cum, go ahead and cum.” You were shouting now, your moans echoing in the cockpit. This was the closest the two of you had gotten to fucking, and the idea of Mando’s cock being so close to your cunt sent you over the edge.

Warmth flooded you, and your legs shook violently as you came. Your thighs clenched over and over around his hips, keeping your eyes right on his visor.

“Fuck, Mando, fuck fuck, Mando, Mando!”

“Yeah, that’s it, good girl. So f-fucking good for me.” As you came down, you noticed Mando was still hard. And you still wanted him.

“Can… Can I have you? In my mouth?”

“Shit, baby, you want me to cum in your mouth?”

“Please, Mando, want you to feel good. Want your cock down my throat.” You shakily climbed off his lap and knelt to the ground. Your hands trembled as they came up to his pants, tugging at the waistband until his cock sprung up against his armor. You looked at the thigh you had just been grinding on, and saw there was a wet spot staining his armor. It made you want to cum again.

“I’m not gonna last long baby, already so close,” Mando rasped out, his chest heaving up and down in anticipation.

“I don’t care, I just need you to tell me what to do.”

“Gladly, sweet girl. Start by licking the tip, yeah just like that.” You flicked the bead of precum leaking from Mando’s cock, his taste flooding your mouth. You swirled your tongue around the tip, eventually licking down his shaft. You had almost forgotten how big he was… almost.

“Fuck, you’re doing so good. Y-You want to put it in your mouth now? You got this, baby, take it nice and- oh f-fuck me.” Your actions interrupted Mando’s train of thought, his cock entering the warm wet of your mouth. You weren’t totally sure what to do from there; Mando had just said he wanted his cock in your mouth, so now what?

“Okay, baby, you know how you stroked my cock with your hand the other day? Just do the same with your mouth, and suck while you do it. G-gonna do so well for me, I know it.” You did as he said, and his reaction was instantaneous. He moaned out so loud you’d think the whole ship could hear it. It finally hit you that Mando’s cock was in your mouth, and stars if that didn’t make a new wave of wetness flood your inner thighs. You couldn’t stop yourself from pushing your hand down your pants, rubbing your clit like Mando taught you as you sucked on him.

“H-Holy shit, baby, are you touching yourself? You rubbing that little clit? Do I make you that wet, pretty one? F-Fuck you’re doing so good, feels so good. Y-You’re a natural…” His words made you moan around his cock, the vibrations making his hips buck up into your mouth. For a second he was worried he’d gone too far, until you pushed your head down even further.

“Fuck, such a g-good girl for me, g-gonna cum in your m-mouth, d-don’t stoppp.” You sucked hard at the tip as your fingers circled faster on your clit, and you were already falling over the edge. Mando’s cum flooded your mouth as he moaned out your name, and his taste made you writhe on your fingers, white flooding your vision. The whines around Mando’s cock as you came made his orgasm last even longer, leaving him totally breathless. It took him a moment to realize that you were still probably holding his cum in your mouth, causing him to jump up and come to your aid.

“Shit, baby, here’s a rag, you can-“ He was stopped short when he noticed you breathing heavily below you, mouth agape and… empty.

“Wait, what did you do with…”

“I swallowed it. I like how you taste,” you whined, totally out of breath and fucked out. Mando’s head hit the back of his seat in awe of how hot you were, swallowing his cum the first time you took him in your mouth, just because you liked it.

“Fuck, come here, baby. Come sit in my lap, let me love on you.” You clambered up into his lap with shaky legs, overwhelmed with the amount of dopamine that flooded your brain. You were still trying to catch your breath as you rested your head on his shoulder as he rubbed your back. These were the moments you held with you when Mando was gone; his comforting touch, how gentle he was despite the damage you knew he could do. You kissed the sliver of skin that peaked out between his collar and his helmet, at which he pulled you in closer to his chest.

All the sudden you heard a crash from below the cockpit and a loud wail… Grogu.

*****

tag list: @niiight-dreamerrrr @ajeff855 @ohhersheybars @sleep-tight1 @jefferson-in-the-tardis @constanzee @halerune @liltangerineart @thewintersoldierswife @ah-callie @witchy-ana @chibi @greyteacup @justanotherblonde23 @hotsauceonabiscuit @pcrushinnerd @altarsw @nerd-without-a-cause @yajairaholmes @stardust-kenobi

[jj-babebank]

Camp Willowdale / JJ Maybank AU / PART 8

Synopsis: Camp Willowdale is buzzing with new campers. It’s Caroline Windsor’s first year as a camp counsellor after attending the camp as a camper for ten years. Little does she know that this year Willowdale Lake is going to be a little different from what she is used to it being…

Warnings: future chapters may include curse words, mentions of drugs, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sexual activities, mentions of death.

Pairings: JJ Maybank x fem OC Part 1 ; Part 2 ; Part 3 ; Part 4; Part 5 ; Part 6 ; Part 7

Masterlist

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

Part 8 –

49 days of summer camp left

Caroline sat in her bed, hugging her knees against her chest. Her and JJ had the afternoon off and despite his attempts to lure her into hanging out, and her infatuation with the boy, she’d turned him down, wanting to spend a few hours alone with herself to compose her thoughts. It had been exactly two weeks since the night Madison disappeared. No one had bothered to mess with the campers since then, the bonfire area hadn’t been touched and no dead animals were found in anyone’s suitcase. To the rest of the camp, this seemed like victory; to Caroline – it seemed like the calm before the storm.

During their first day at Camp Willowdale, all of the counselors had been given a Willowdale-branded set of items they’d have to use during their stay. It came with the obvious STAFF t-shirts, sweaters and hats, but it also consisted of other things – such as the thermoses Caroline and JJ were still using to sneak whiskey into their daily routines, and notebooks in which they were advised to plan out their group’s daily schedules. Caroline however had been using her notebook for other purposes. She’d become so obsessed with Madison’s case, that every little thing that happened on camp grounds and seemed even a little out of the ordinary, immediately became a clue to her, which she’d hastily scribble down in her notebook. It had only been two weeks since the disappearance of Madison Hague and Caroline had already filled about a quarter of the pages of her hefty notebook with potential clues and leads. She kept rereading her notes, trying to think of something – anything – that they could do to help them solve the mystery, however nothing was coming to her. Ever since the dress incident, Caroline and her friends hadn’t found anything else that could relate to Madison, though Caroline was glad that none of them had given up on their mission.

Caroline was so deep in her own thoughts, she nearly jumped at the sound of a sudden knock on the door. She quickly closed her notebook and tucked it under her mattress and went to open the door, revealing a panting JJ leaning on the doorframe.

“Hey, C,” he breathed.

“JJ, what’re you doing here? I told you I -”

JJ cut her off by pushing past her and walking into her cabin, “Yeah, yeah, you wanna be alone, I know,” he sat on her bed, taking his snapback off, “but I was thinking… you’ve been so busy with the kids and with the whole Madison thing, and believe me – I really appreciate you for being like that, but -”

Caroline crossed her arms, “Where are you going with this?”

JJ sighed, “You’ve just totally forgotten how to have fun, C,” he said, “The primary reason that we all came here was to have fun and look at you – you barely eat, or sleep, or do anything other than your counselor duties and this whole Madison investigation thing…” JJ sighed again, looking at the hat in his lap and playing with its adjustable strap, “All I’m saying, C, is what if Madison really did go home and you’ve just wasted all this energy on nothing…Thing is,” JJ looked up into her eyes, “I miss you, the old you, and I know that that you’s still somewhere in there, it’s just this whole Madison thing blocking it.” he placed the hat back on his head and stood up, walking towards Caroline, “Hang out with me now,” he said, stopping directly in front of her and lifting her chin up so that she was facing him, “And I promise we’ll think about Madison later,”

Caroline couldn’t really process what was going on. JJ was touching her and standing in such an intimate distance from her, that she could basically feel his breath on her face. For a second she forgot all about Madison, and the dead owl, and the bonfire area. All she could think about was JJ Maybank, who had just told her that he misses her and wants to “hang out with her”. Caroline stood there, lost in thought. What if he was right? What if Madison really did go home and that dress never even belonged to her? What if it was Jenna Kinley’s all along and Sarah had just gotten the perfume wrong? What if JJ really did miss her because he liked her as more than a friend? No, no, that couldn’t be it. But what if –

“Um, Carrie?” JJ’s voice suddenly broke her out of her trans, “So d’you wanna do something together or -”

“Yes!” she said, a little too excitedly for her own taste, of course I’d like to hang out with you, JJ, she thought, “What do you want to do?”

JJ’s face immediately lit up at her words, “Well I was thinking perhaps a picnic?”

Caroline raised an eyebrow, “Don’t picnics require food? We don’t have access to anything unless it’s mealtime,”

“Yeah, but we do have whiskey,” JJ winked with a mischievous look on his face, walking towards the storage room of the girls’ cabin where they still had a few bottles of alcohol left.

Caroline rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless – this was going to finally be her first date with JJ Maybank. Well, sort of.

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

The afternoon sun was low in the sky, casting a beautiful orange reflection onto the peaceful water of lake Willowdale. Caroline and JJ had taken a seat on the lakefront, drinking their whiskeys and admiring the sunset, reminiscing the days when they were kids again.

“D’you remember that one summer when Rafe Cameron got food poisoning and ended up barfing on stage at the Will-all-hail banquet?” JJ laughed at the memory.

Caroline frowned, thinking about it, “Beats having Rafe Cameron as your counselor by a mile,”

JJ turned to look at her, eyebrows raised, “Rafe was a counselor here?” his tone almost sounding amused.

Caroline nodded, “Oh yeah,” she smirked, “For the same reason as Sarah – too stuck up for his own good so their dad shipped him over here as a punishment,”

JJ snorted, “I mean that family is pretty far up their own ass,”

“They have a sister too,” said Caroline, “I haven’t seen her around here though, so we at least know that one of them must be doing something right,”

The pair laughed at the thought of their spoiled friend and her older brother.

“Man, I missed this place,” said JJ suddenly, leaning back on his elbows.

His tone sounded different as he looked at the horizon and Caroline could sense that something wasn’t right, “Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask -”

“Parents got divorced,” JJ quickly explained, “And unfortunately for me, my dad got custody,” he sighed, “Somehow my mom was deemed ‘incapable’ of taking care of me because she couldn’t financially afford to. Load of bullshit, if you ask me,”

“But my mom -”

“Yeah, they still talk,” said JJ, knowing what Caroline was about to say, “I still see my mom every other weekend, you know, it’s not the end of the world,” he smiled at Caroline reassuringly, “It’s just living with my old man meant working for my cut at home, which also meant summer jobs back in Kildare,”

“So that’s where you’ve been all this time…” whispered Caroline, mostly to herself, however JJ heard her.

“Yeah,” he responded, “Now that I’m old enough to be a counselor here and actually get paid for coming to summer camp I thought why not? Besides, your mom did tip mine off that you’d be here too,” he winked at Caroline, making her blush.

“Yeah, about that,” she said apologetically, “My mom likes to yap a lot, I wouldn’t take most of what she says seriously,”

“Well you are here, aren’t you?” said JJ, his face slightly leaning in towards Caroline’s.

Holy shit, this was it. Caroline was about to kiss JJ Maybank after a decade of fawning over him. Shit, shit, shit, she hadn’t really kissed anyone since that idiot from her class planted one on her at prom. What if she was a bad kisser? What if she’d forgotten how to kiss? As JJ closed his eyes and leaned even closer, Caroline decided to push the doubtful thoughts to the side as she closed her eyes too, leaning in towards him too. Their faces were inches apart, hearts pounding in their chests and, just as their lips were finally about to meet –

“There you are!” Sarah’s loud voice came from the hill behind them, startling them and making them both jump and immediately pull apart and straighten up. John B stumbled after her.

Caroline coughed awkwardly, trying to cover up the shame and embarrassment she was currently feeling, “Sarah… what are you doing here?”

With a knowing smirk on her face, Sarah put both hands on her hips, “Nothing,” she sing-sang, obviously finding the whole situation hilarious, “I’m sure it can wait,” she winked down at Caroline, while John B was waving around frantically behind Sarah at JJ, mouthing the words “DID YOU BONE?!” quite obviously.

JJ groaned as he stood up, helping Caroline up as well, “We’re all yours now, Sarah, what’s up?”

“Well me and John B had the afternoon free as well, so we went out front to his van and you’ll never believe what was taped to the door,”

“Wait, why’d you go to his van in the first place?”

Sarah rolled her eyes, “That’s beside the point now, Carrie, look” she shoved a piece of paper in the girl’s hands.

As Caroline unfolded the paper, the group gathered around her to look at what was written on it - 41° 56’ 54.3732” N, 87° 39’ 19.2024” W.

“I have no idea what that means though,” confessed Sarah.

“Looks like coordinates to me,” said JJ.

“Hey, that’s what I said!” gasped John B, “But Sarah didn’t want to believe me,”

“Does anyone know how to read geographical coordinates?” JJ looked at his friends.

“Do I look like Google Maps to you?” asked Sarah.

“You’re right,” Caroline said as an idea sparked in her mind, “We can’t read coordinates, but I know someone who can,”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

“I’m just saying, Miss P,” JJ spoke confidently once the group was inside Pricilla’s office, “Now’s about the best time to host the traditional yearly treasure hunt,”

Pricilla squinted up at JJ through her pink glasses from where she was sat at her desk, “Keep talking, Maybank,”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit odd that it’s already been two weeks and none of these kids can read a compass yet?” continued JJ, earning a slow nod from the camp director, “Think about it, Miss P – Willowdale ain’t Willowdale without its treasure hunt,”

As JJ spoke, the rest of the group were silently praying behind him that his charismatic way with manipulating will work on Pricilla, giving them an excuse to ask her to decipher the mysterious coordinates they had gotten their hands onto. The old lady leaned back in her old leather chair and looked at JJ skeptically for a while, adding to the already built up tension.

“Give me a few days to map out the course and set up the coordinates,” she finally spoke, causing everyone in the group to silently cheer behind JJ. As they thanked her and turned to leave, she spoke up again, “Oh, and Maybank,” she called, everyone turning to look at her, “No funny business,”

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

A/N: Finally some normal camp activities. Thank you for reading so far, I would greatly appreciate you letting me know what you think about the story and the characters xxx

tags: @k-k0129 ; @hayleyy-l ; @marvellover04 ; @dumbasscorn ; @thrown-off-her-rhythm

[neonghostcat]

Checking in. 👋

It should not take me being checked on by a reader to log into to Tumblr, but when I get busy at work/with life, Tumblr becomes the first thing cut.

(Sorry about that. D: I feel particularly bad as people have been super lovely while I've been in hiatus and I'm horrified at not telling them they're lovely immediately!)

A little update on me and what I'm working on under the cut!

I actually have a (minor!) shoulder injury. I'm fine, but it's enough to put me on reduced work load, which normally would mean more writing time, but as the injury means worse sleep (+ some days where computer time is very uncomfortable), my focus is crap and it amounts to around the same in the end. More time for reading through my AO3 backlog, I guess!

Enough on that!

👻 GHOST MONTH AHEAD. 👻

And you know what that means?

My pretend-birthday awaits! Huzzah! I think I may be more excited about my pretend birthday than my real one. 😁

I'm still on track to release a chapter on August 8th! This unfortunately means I've had to set a reminder on my desktop calendar since, y'know, Thursdays are my update day, not Mondays. But it'd feel weird to update on a Monday and then skip a Thursday to wait until the Thursday next, so Mondays it is.

The story will be 4 chapters unless chapter 4 runs longer than expected and I need to split it into two parts - so that means all of Ghost Month gets a bit of LiuShen for ya!

I can't remember if this story idea sparked my thoughts on giving myself a fake birthday or if my fake birthday planning made me start working on a fic idea for it, but either way, I've been sitting on the idea for a fair while. (It's on my Tumblr WIP list as "unnamed ghost fic".)

👻 The Guardian Ghost and the Bookish Fairy 🧚‍♂️

This story has gone through about three working titles, but I'm pretty sure I'm sticking with this one.

----

Summary: LQG survives his qi deviation... in the form of a ghost. Having nothing better to do and no desire to be exorcised, he follows after SQQ and decides to haunt him for the hell of it.

It doesn't take him long to realize that not only is this not the SQQ he knew, but there is more going on. And apparently SQH is involved too? Ah! He understands now - they're immortal fairies given a grand mission to thwart a dark prophesy of the sect's collapse. Well. He can help with that. And how better than to protect the bookish fairy that's taken SQQ's place?

There are no ulterior motives. Why think such foolish things???

TL;DR: What happens if SY transmigrates a little later and the events of PIDW continue until after Ling Xi Caves?

----

You know me - I love my LQG POV, so be prepared for that. And he's an even more unreliable narrator than ever. 🙈

I have also spent far too much time researching weiqi/go just so I could write a single scene. Thankfully I realized pretty quickly that I didn't need to actually dig too deep into how the game was played to write the scene or else I'd feel even more foolish. One day I'll write a scene with weiqi/go from SY's POV so I can work in a reference to Hikaru no Go. But this day is not the day. (Even though the set-up would have been perfect for it. Alas.)

I did not do any research into Chinese ghost or fairy folklore (because I knew what I wanted for this story and knew if I researched it and something came up that contradicted what I wanted, I'd second guess myself), so I'm going to have to tag or note that I'm running with a more Western take on ghosts with the bits and pieces I've picked up over the years from Eastern folklore, especially re: "fairies". I don't want people to "Well, actually" me over it because they were expecting something different.

re: Cultivate

Still working on it! Work + injury = surprisingly more difficult to work on a long story than a short one. More moving parts to keep track of and my brain just isn't up to it.

I'm hopeful for sometime in September, but I'm not making promises. I'll know better by the time the last chapter of Ghost is posted, though.

This post is already tl;dr, so not much to say other than I'll see those of you on the 8th who drop by to read! 💖💖💖

[hydroponicjj]

No Body, No Crime [2]

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Female!Peterkin!Reader

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Mentions of Drugs/Alcohol, Swearing, etc

Summary: Rafe is finding himself having trouble trusting Y/N, even after what she did for him.

A/N: Hello! This is the second chapter of No Body, No Crime. Please enjoy and, let me know if you’d like to be on the taglist! <3

「 ₊˚.༄ 」

The entire drive over to Topper's made you extremely nervous. Your stomach felt as if it was in a knot that couldn't be undone.

It only got worse when you began to recognize the scenery of Figure 8.

It was unusual of you to be so anxious.

Usually, you’re hyper-focused. You don’t have time to worry about all the possible things that could go wrong but, Rafe made you feel different.

Typically, the two of you would only interact in passing. Oftentimes in the kitchen at his house when you needed him to help you reach something on the top shelf.

Now, you’re about to see each other in a brand new light. Going from strangers to...

Honestly, you didn’t really know how to classify this blossoming relationship, considering it hasn’t started yet.

Turning a corner into a neighborhood, you recognized Topper's mansion almost immediately.

It was the second house on the right with pillars and a baby blue door. There were tiny American flags pitched in the yard with small lights showcasing their entrance.

There were so many cars parked on the street and in the driveway that it was nearly impossible for you to get close without clipping a vehicle.

Finding a good spot near the sidewalk, you emerged from your car, making sure to check that it was locked (a habit you learned from your mother).

Drawing closer to the front door, you spotted Rafe.

He was sitting ominously in a rocking chair on the porch, looking out into the yard.

"Hey." You called out. He broke from his intense gaze and glanced at you.

"Shit, I totally forgot that you were coming." He pinched the bridge of his nose, turning his head.

"Well, I'm here so.." You trailed off, taking a seat next to him.

Instantly, Rafe began to draw away from you. You noticed but refrained from commenting on it, not knowing what his problem was.

It wasn't long after that the tension started to fill the air. You’re usually the one keeping your distance from him, not vice versa.

“Are-Are you going to say anything?” You asked, nervously.

You had no idea what made his energy shift from the last time you spoke to him but, this wasn’t the same Rafe that you saw that afternoon.

“What do you want me to say?” He replied sharply, glancing over in your direction.

You were taken aback by him, “Rafe. You asked me to meet you here. I have no idea what the hell is going on. So, I just— I wanna know what’s happening.”

He froze, inhaling deeply. It was clear that he was searching for the right words to say that would get his message across.

“Y/N, I don’t trust you. You might be Sarah’s best friend but, you’re also the sheriffs' daughter.” His voice was cold and distant.

He genuinely viewed you as some kind of threat. Less than 7 hours ago, he was more than willing to rope you into whatever he had going on, and now, you’re just a burden to him.

You scoffed, “You seemed pretty happy to get your drugs back this afternoon. Was I the sheriffs' daughter then?”

“I stole from my mom, Rafe. That’s not something you just do for fun. Especially when you have a lot to lose on your end, okay. So, if I rat you out, I’m going down too.”

Guilt instantly flashed behind his blue eyes. It was evident as his features began to soften and he lowered his eyebrows.

He began to speak but, you cut him off, “Listen, Rafe, I don’t expect us to go out and get matching tattoos anytime soon but, we have to learn to trust each other, or else this thing isn’t going to work.”

He chuckled lightly, flashing you a crooked smile, “Yeah.” Rafe replied simply.

The loud booming of music coming from inside filled the silence.

“Didn’t you graduate high school yesterday?” Rafe asked, quirking his head to the side.

“Yeah... I-I did.” You replied, still surprised.

You weren’t valedictorian like your mother planned but, you were pretty damn close. Still, it wasn’t enough to satisfy Susan Peterkin so, you spent the entirety of graduation sulking.

You didn’t even get a chance to enjoy your High School graduation.

A sour taste formed in your mouth as your throat began to get tighter by the second.

Rafe noticed your sudden discomfort, “Well, you’re at a party. Why don’t you go inside and have fun? Celebrate the milestone.”

“You should celebrate too. I mean- finishing your first year of college.” You acknowledged, awkwardly trying to shift the conversation toward him.

“I took a gap year. Too many things to do and not enough time.” He shrugged.

You were so entranced by the way Rafe spoke. He wasn’t like you, who felt the need to give the deepest, most profound explanation for everything.

He was simple.

You liked simple.

Standing up, you extended your hand in his direction, “Come on,” you paused, grabbing him by the wrist, “We’re going inside.”

“No no no,” he protested, “I already told my friends I was leaving so,” Rafe resisted your grasp, staying firmly in his seat.

“I think we can handle Topper and Kelce.” You scoffed, giving him a playful look.

Rafe knit his eyebrows together, contemplating. It had already been an extremely long night. But, he was having a hard time pulling out the response from his chest.

"Shitttt," He drew out, "What the hell. It'd be nice to see you pull the stick out of your ass and relax."

Eyes lighting up and a smile tugging on your lips, you yanked on his wrist again. This time, he rose from the rocking chair, peering down at you, "Don't make me regret this, Peterkin."

"How could you possibly regret anything when you're with me?" You sent him a sly wink.

Twisting the front-door handle, you entered the Thorton household.

Your senses were instantly triggered. Your ears struggled to determine which was louder, the music or screaming of teenagers. Your eyes reacted to the fluorescent light projected on the ceiling.

The scent was absolutely putrid. Sweaty bodies and alcohol were not a good mixture, not under any circumstances.

"Ugh," Covering your nose with your right hand, you peered back at Rafe. He seemed completely fine.

This was normal for him.

Watching as he maneuvered around this situation with such ease inspired you.

Rafe was a complete mystery to you. Although with every interaction, he became less of a riddle, it was still a challenge trying to figure him out.

Abruptly, someone from behind you yelled, tearing you from your trance, "I said that you'd be back!"

Turning around, you saw Kelce and Topper making their way towards the two of you.

"Yeah, yeah," Rafe responded, playfully, drifting closer to his two friends.

A mere seconds later, Topper noticed you standing at a feeble 1 and a half feet shorter than Rafe.

"Holy shit," He gasped, "A-Are my eyes deceiving me, or is Y/N Peterkin at a party?"

This caught Kelce's attention and, he certainly couldn't resist making a sly comment, "How's your mom? Is she still 6 feet up the Pogues ass or....?"

Scoffing, you began to walk away but, something caught your shoulder.

"Listen, she's a bitch but, not as nearly as much as you think." Rafe defended.

You couldn't help but laugh, “Thanks.”

Yes, it was a shitty, backhanded compliment. But, it was coming from Rafe Cameron so, that's the best you're gonna get.

"Yeah, I'll believe it when I see it," Commented Kelce, turning his head to look around at the scenery.

“Rafe,” Topper paused, “Are you trying to get even more fucked up tonight?”

Glancing at Rafe, you noticed how tired he looked. Drooping eyes and hunched shoulders gave away how he was feeling.

“No, he has other priorities on his mind.” You chimed in.

“Ohhhhhhhh.” Kelce raised his eyebrows.

Wiggling two fingers between the two of you, “Are you guys....? You know?”

“Shut the fuck up, Kelce. You’re a goddamned idiot.” Rafe rolled his eyes, pushing his friend lightly.

“Relax. I’m not gonna swoop in on your girl. Just curious who you’re fucking this week.”

Glancing up at Rafe, he appeared extremely fed up with the current conversation.

“Come on, man,” Topper said, pulling Kelce by the shoulder, “Let’s leave these two alone. I’m sure they’ve got loads of shit to catch up on.”

The two walked out of the entryway, side by side, and floated right back into the epicenter of the party.

“Why do you do that?” You questioned, almost instantly.

Looking in your direction, he responded, “What are you talking about?”

Sighing, you began, “You willingly hang out with Dumb and Dumber,”

“You could be surrounded by people that are on the same intellectual level as you. Yet, you surround yourself with people like those 2 that are only interested in being so high that they can’t remember their name.”

Rafe shook his head, “It doesn’t matter.”

There he goes again. Being simple. Summing up everything he has to say in a mere 3 words.

"He deserves better than that." You thought but didn't say.

In your head, you could see Rafe walking away from the conversation and, you wanted him as close as possible (because you're not used to parties.... no other reason.... of course).

"This is stressing me out," You commented jokingly, running your hands through your hair.

If you weren't so hyperaware of your surroundings, you would've missed the way that Rafe was glancing at you.

He looked as if he was trying to decipher what was going on in your head.

“Come on.” He nodded his head in the direction of the living room (aka where 90% of the party-goers were).

You grinned slightly, “I was deprived of partying my entire 4 years of High School. I don’t think I should start now.”

You turned around and sat on the love seat in the Thornton entryway.

“You dragged me back in here so, the least you could do is sway your hips to some shitty music.”

“Maybe.” You smirked, teasing him.

“Alright, I’ll find Topper and Kelce. I’m sure they’ve got something interesting for me.” Rafe began to exit the room.

“Fine,” you rose from your seat immediately, catching his attention.

You shook your head in disapproval, “So manipulative.”

A smug look was plastered on Rafe’s face, “Yeah, well.... it worked.”

He shrugged and sent you a smirk.

「 ₊˚.༄ 」

You had never felt so free in your entire life.

It was surprising that such a wild atmosphere made you feel a sense of comfort and enjoyment, rather than fear and anxiety.

Maybe it was the fact that you clung to Rafe for the majority of the time.

He was such a social hotspot.

People of all ages and demographics were speaking to him. He kept the conversations brief and, it was clear that he wasn't very interested.

Nevertheless, he was dragged into a game of beer pong, and (with the help of Topper and Kelce) he agreed to play BUT, only if you did.

At first, you were hesitant, having no idea how to play but, there was something inside of you that hated the thought of saying no to Rafe.

You indulged him and decided to play, with the exception that you didn't drink, considering that you had to drive back home to the Cut.

It took a few tries for you to actually get the hang of things but, Rafe helped a lot.

He would often adjust your form, wrapping his arm around your waist and tugging you in another direction.

It made you nervous yet excited having him in such close proximity to you, whispering in your ear which direction to throw the ball.

Ultimately, the two of you ended up winning against Topper and Kelce (who were pissed that they lost to such an inexperienced player).

That was the beginning of the fun.

After that, you didn't feel the need to cling to Rafe as tight as you had been before.

You went off and had conversations with people that didn't go to your High School, which also meant they had no clue who your mother was.

You used to be extremely familiar with Figure 8 and you often found yourself missing it from time to time.

It was very nice to be able to surround yourself with people that weren't foaming at the mouth to run and tell your mother everything they saw.

It wasn't until you began to dance, swaying your hips to the beat that Rafe found you again.

"Y/N, I--I need a ride home." He began, speaking in a low but rushed tone.

"What?!" You yelled, not being able to hear him over the music.

You took a glance at him and, he looked horrible.

His eyes were extremely red and he reeked of alcohol and plenty of other illegal substances.

Not only that but, Rafe seemed extremely jittery. Almost as if something bad was going to happen if he didn't leave immediately.

Seeing the stress of the situation, you gripped Rafe by the arm and tugged him out of the hectic scene and into the nearest quiet room.

Finding a bathroom right before the kitchen, the two of you entered.

You sat him on the edge of the tub, crouching in front of him.

"Rafe," You paused, clutching the sides of his face, "Look at me. What's going on?"

Opening his eyes, he began to speak, "Please, just, please. Take me home." He buried his head into your shoulder.

You were stunned by his actions, having no idea what drug he took that made him act like that.

But, now was not the time to question Rafe, he needed your help and after all the progress the two of you made that evening, you weren't going to leave him behind.

"O-okay, okay. Yes, I'll take you home."

You stood up, continuing to hold his arm, afraid that he'd fall back into the tub.

"Rafe, can you stand? Can you walk?" You asked.

He nodded then rose, towering over you.

"Here," You directed him towards the sink, "Splash some cold water onto your face, okay?"

He did as you told him, gathering a scoop of water in his palms and splattered it onto his face.

After, he seemed slightly more coherent but, not nearly enough.

The two of you emerged from the bathroom. You were still clung to his arm, leading him in the direction of the exit.

Once, you left the inside of the house, you were bombarded with cars from all angles.

It then hit you that you had to park on the street.

As you led Rafe down the infinitely long driveway, you cursed in your head, upset at the universe for making you work against gravity in order to keep him from face-planting.

Finally, making it to your car, you reached in your pocket and unlocked it.

Opening the door to the passenger's side, you plopped Rafe in the seat and buckled him in.

You ran around the front of the car, trying to get back to Rafe as soon as possible.

"Rafe, do you have everything? Your phone, wallet, keys?"

"Mhm." He replied, setting his head on the back of the seat.

With that, you took one last glance at Rafe and put the car in drive.

「 ₊˚.༄ 」

Pulling into the driveway, you noticed that the Cameron household was quiet.

The only light coming from inside was the glare of the TV from Wheezie's room.

"Rafe, we're here." You said, shaking him. He had fallen asleep seconds after you started driving.

He didn't waste any time getting out of the car. Unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the door, he headed in the direction of the garage.

As he approached, it opened.

"I know they're rich but, damn, motion detected garage?" You commented, continuing to watch, making sure Rafe made it inside safely.

It wasn't until you started saw him stop that you noticed a figure standing in front of him.

It was Ward Cameron.

"Shit."

You knew Ward was going to give Rafe crap for staying out late, partying so, the least you could do was try and cover for him.

Emerging from your car, you walked towards the garage.

"Rafe, I need you to do it, okay? I don't want Sarah getting involved-" You caught the end of what Ward was saying before he stopped.

"Y/N!" He greeted, a smile on his face.

"Hey, Mr.Cameron." You waved awkwardly, sending a forced smile.

"Thank you so much for bringing this one home," He grabbed Rafe by the shoulder, pulling him into a side hug.

"No problem! I just needed his help with some things. The least I could do was take him home." You replied.

"Yeah, yeah," Ward nodded his head, looking back at the door.

"Listen, Y/N, thanks for putting in a good word with your mom. We really appreciate it."

"I'm sorry?" You knit your eyebrows in confusion.

"I got a call from the station today saying the charges against Rafe had been dropped. All of us are so thrilled that we can resume a normal life and move past this." He placed a hand on his chest.

You had no idea what he was talking about. Your mom wasn't home yet. There was no way she could've seen the drugs had been taken from her safe yet.

But, you had to play it cool, not wanting Ward to ask any questions "Sure, sure." you answered.

"Okay, welp," He paused, "Have a nice night, Y/N. Come by tomorrow and see us." Ward finished, hurridly.

With that, he turned around swiftly and went back inside his house, through the garage door.

That entire interaction was odd. You had never seen Ward act so tense.

Also, you couldn't help but wonder what was so urgent that Sarah couldn't do?

It had been less than 24 hours and, you're already wrapped up in things you couldn't begin to comprehend.

"I need to sleep."

Walking back to your car, you entered the driver's seat.

Putting the car in reverse, you exited the Cameron house and began your journey back to the Cut.

TAGLIST *strikethrough it won’t let me tag*: @oopsiedoopsie23 @a-bolanos @cocobutterqween @gabiatthedisco @athenastarkey @halsmultibitch @water13 @avaspringtime @niamhvivo @haterpenny @nerdypartytrashpsychic @casually-kook @mynameberose @malfoylaufeysonweasley