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floral-poisons · 3 years ago

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twst characters in high fantasy roles

rewatching the princess bride had my mind racing and thinking about the cast of twisted wonderland in fantasy roles. i would consider twisted wonderland as more urban fantasy so i’m mostly looking at high fantasy like the princess bride, the neverending story, and game of thrones. i will be trying not to pigeon hole the characters into fairy tale fantasy character roles since they’re already based on fairy tale characters.

for simplicity, i am treating each dorm as its own country on this hypothetical fantastical continent. mc (you) are apart of a neutral land where you are a royal. the nrc staff hail from your land.

NRC STAFF

dire crowley

the mystical guide. good, bad, neutral? lawful, true, chaotic? you don’t know and you will never know. he’s the one guiding you through this fantastical journey. guided by the prophetic dark mirror. sometimes helpful, sometimes not. he’s unpredictable. and there’s something suspicious about him. but your parents told you to trust him, so you do.

ashton vargas

the head of the royal knights. was the youngest knight to reach such a position. physically intimidating but he’s actually really laxed when you get to know him. wanted to become a knight when he was younger. part of his motivation is revenge but you don’t see it. there’s a certain fear that he might end up down a path of destruction if he shows his true motive for revenge so he covers it up. very charismatic too. hero of his village.

mozus trein

a royal scholar. he’s the one tutoring royalty. very sought out. grew up in an aristocratic family so therefore he had the funds to pursue academia. he’s most definitely the history tutor teaching politics and you fall asleep during his lessons. his cat also viciously stares at people and doesn’t appear to like you.

divus crewel

another royal scholar. also tutoring royalty and highly sought after. teaches alchemy which interests you. unlike trein, he grew up a farm boy who managed to attend a prestigious school after passing the civil service exam. with his new money, he’s buying the newest clothes to look his best. got sucked into being a royal scholar. his true passion is owning an apothecary.

sam

the traveling merchant. always has something you need, speaks in ominous and vague sentences. always has the answers but those answers only bring about more questions. sometimes you get frustrated with his vague answers. kind of giving off the same vibe as the duke from resident evil: village. offers tarot readings too and is extremely specific with his details. a mage but there’s a lot of people who think he’s a con artist because he’s too good. has to be too good to be true, right?

DIASOMNIA

malleus draconia

the fae prince. an incredibly powerful mage that no one stands a chance against. one should not forget to invite him to their event for his emotions affect the country he leads. it’s unknown how old the fae prince really is. outsiders know nothing of what he looks like and even his own people for he wears a different mask to each event he’s invited to. all everyone knows is that he’s incredibly tall, has black horns, and carries around his black staff. it would do you good if you didn’t get onto his bad side. or trespass his castle grounds.

lilia vanrouge

the eternal librarian. a man of unknown age with incredible magic power. always appears to have a book on hand and has records of every scholar that’s existed even before he was born. he manages an ancient library that resides in his country, the best library on the whole continent. when you come to visit to do research, you’re extremely confused. the librarian is a...child? but his voice cuts you off guard. don’t take him for a child. he’s far older than you could ever imagine and a lot more ominous than you would like. he can’t give you a straight answer and it might be the death of you.

silver

the scribe. a silent man who lingers by the side of the fae prince and keeps record of his invitations and writes down everything in official hearings. never has he seen the fae prince’s face even though he has been by the prince’s side since he was a young scribe. diligent, attentive, and doesn’t have time for gatherings. he sends out the messengers if a royal decree is announced and is far too busy to ever consider having a relationship beyond colleagues. that is, until he meets you, asking him to take you to the emerald library where the eternal librarian resides.

sebek zigvolt

the royal bodyguard. he’s a young man, probably the youngest to have ever been promoted the status of the fae prince’s royal bodyguard. his duty? to protect the prince at all costs. he is one of the only people to have seen the fae prince’s face and he works diligently to accomplish his goal. but sometimes, he might be too restrictive. complains about the prince going to too many parties, the prince staying out late at night, the prince not eating on time, the prince not drinking enough water. he’s been told to relax but the man can’t relax. it’s his duty. what if he fails? there is no failure for the diligent sebek. however, there’s also another issue: he can’t get along with the scribe. at all. resolutions are not their thing.

HEARTSLABYUL

riddle rosehearts

the lost prince. the queen was a strict woman, a stricter ruler, and an even stricter mother. everything had to be perfect. everyone had to follow the rules. the prince wanted to feel even the smallest bit of freedom when he was a child, forced to stay on the castle grounds and never allowed beyond the gates. he was only allowed to interact with certain people, only allowed to eat certain things, only allowed to do what his mother asked him to. mother, mother, mother, mother. mother this. mother that. it all traced back to her: mother. one day, a strange boy with cat ears appeared, having somehow snuck into the castle. he told the prince that he had heard tales of the red prince being locked away behind castle walls. with his hand out, he offered the young boy freedom. riddle gladly took that hand. that day, he explored the town. he got to taste a strawberry tart from a local bakery run by a family, meet a child with a toy sword who he was able to beat in a play fight, blow on dandelions, and lay down on the grass, the sun on his face surrounded by his new friends. however, it a shadow loomed over the prince’s body and when he opened his eyes, he screamed. the black knave, his mother’s most trusted soldier, was here to take him back. the prince was dragged back into the castle crying, kicking, screaming. his mother enacted a harsh punishment for her son had humiliated her. he wasn’t allowed outside of the castle again. for years, the prince was too afraid to make a move. until he saw a bird. so mundane, right? but as riddle leaned against the wall, looking outside his glass window, he saw a bird, flying, gliding against the wind, going above the wall and disappearing on the other side. it was then and there he decided he would escape and leave this empty life that held nothing but misery. it took him about six months to come up with his escape plan and another six months to implement it. but when he gathered everything he needed, he made the escape with his trusted horse vorpal. and he rode, rode far, far away from the castle. away from his life. towards the dawn, towards the forest, towards freedom, towards peace.

trey clover

the royal pastry chef. a boy who grew up near the castle walls, working at his family’s local bakery. he didn’t care about the money, only that whoever ate his food enjoyed it. on a certain sunny day, the baker met a boy with striking red hair who shyly asked if he could have a strawberry tart. when he saw the boy’s expression melt with happiness, tears beginning to fall down his cheeks as he tasted the sweet goodness of his tarts, he decided that he would strive to make pastries that would give whoever ate it the same sense of euphoria the boy had. the day was full of running around until the baker learned that this wasn’t an ordinary boy. it was the crown prince of the kingdom. he tried to convince the black knave to let the prince stay longer but he had stayed out for too long. when he was old enough, trey left his home to explore the continent and beyond, bringing back with him new baking techniques, ingredients, and spices to add to his pastries. he incorporated everything he learned over his four year journey into his baking. and before long, he got the attention of the entire kingdom. and the attention of the queen. absolutely impressed by his craft, the queen recruited him as a royal pastry chef who would make her something new every day for dessert. while life as a royal pastry chef was comfortable, it was also extremely laborious. and when you arrive, trey’s beginning to run out of ideas for the queen.

cater diamond

the court jester. his family for generations have served the court as the royal jester. he was there for entertainment. but he spoke in a strange vernacular, his sentences sounding like riddles. he’s a particularly handsome jester who can make everyone laugh and their cheeks red. carefree and copes with jokes. he remembers interacting with the young red prince a few times, who grew close to him because he was one of the few people the prince was allowed to see. however, the jester could see that the prince was not happy and longed to experience beyond the castle walls. so what did the court jester do? what a fool shouldn’t do: tell someone. the purple cat, che’nya. the mischievous child said he would take care of it. cater thought he did the right thing until he saw the prince, kicking, screaming, crying, in the hands of the black knave. the jester felt an immense guilt eat away at him and he was shunned from seeing the prince. the queen believed it was the jester’s fault for his carefree attitude had rubbed off onto her precious son. and for that, he was severely punished. part of him was relieved and satisfied with the shrieks of the queen when she learned that her son had run away. he would watch as the queen pretended her son was sick, locked away in the castle, unable to show himself to his citizens. she was pretending everything was fine, knowing that the people would turn on the queen upon learning of her mistreatment. after years of groveling at the queen’s feet, cater was finally appointed as the royal court jester. life seemed to be going well until you enter the kingdom with a shocking announcement: you’ve found the lost prince.

ace trappola

the common people’s champion. swords, ladies in waiting, chivalry. all tales he’s heard since he was a child. he wanted the glory, the riches, the luxury. his father told him he was meant to be a blacksmith. but why only be a blacksmith when he had both magical and physical talent? he watched an old knight train one day and would come back every day to watch him, mimicking his movements from the bushes. one day, the young boy came to find the knight there. except, he was behind him. the man, old and retired from his life as a knight, tells him that he’s always known the boy was there. ace begs him to train him, wanting to become a knight so badly. with reluctance, the man begins to train the young boy. he’s proud of his skills but one after, he runs into a boy with red hair who easily bests him. his pride hurt, his swears he will become better than boy with the red hair. ace was intent on keeping that promise, practicing and mastering his craft for years. his mentor told his apprentice that the life of a knight was not what it seemed by ace wasn’t deterred. when there was an announcement of a tournament, meant to recruit new members of the royal guard, he took his chance. every single one of his opponents was good but after fighting for a week straight, no rest, he came out on top, wearing that shiny silver armor and holding the sword of his mentor. he was the people’s champion and was chosen by the queen to be in the royal guard. but ace noticed something...odd. the crown prince was nowhere to be seen. he was never assigned to watch over the prince. but staring at a portrait of him had ace thinking and eventually realizing that boy who bested him as a child was really the crown prince! but where was he? where had he gone? ace was starting to get adjusted when you come in, asking for his help in tracking down the lost prince and bringing him home.

deuce spade

the royal alchemist. descends from a family who have served as the royal alchemist for generations. his magic is incredibly strong and he was sent to the most prestigious magic academy in the continent. he grew up comfortable, a little rowdy, little rough around the edges. and he was prepared to serve the crown prince as his royal alchemist. however, on the day he ascends into his mother’s position, the prince is nowhere to be found. the queen says it’s nothing to worry about. but in his two years of being the royal alchemist, never has deuce once seen the prince. it’s suspicious. something is off. and then he’s approached by you and, of all people, ace trappola, asking for a tracing potion to help find the lost prince.

POMEFIORE

vil schoenheit

the acting monarch. his mother married the widower king who has a son named neige leblanche. he grew up as a commoner with his mother, using his magic and theatrical skills to make extra money on the side. one day, the king visited town and noticed his mother’s striking beauty. everyone says vil looks exactly like his mother. it was soon that they were married and he was introduced to the lifestyle of a royal. but he knew, behind closed doors, people looked down upon him. he wasn’t the king’s true child so he would never be able to compete with the throne. when the king passed away, vil’s mother was chosen to be queen. but a bottle of bad wine caused her to collapse and fall intensely ill. watching her pass away, he was extremely distraught. neige was still too young to ascend the throne and vil was older. as much as they didn’t want to, they needed an acting monarch. so the step-prince was given the position. the small taste of power had him hooked and he was introduced to a world of political conflict and secret bloodshed. wanting to keep the power, vil read through as many books on the law as possible to keep his position, using his trusted assassin rook hunt to take out any adversaries. and then you come along and accidentally discover something malicious: neige’s aunt, the king’s sister, sanctioned the death of the second queen. and your mistake was telling the acting monarch of your discovery.

rook hunt

the assassin. a descendant of a notorious underground family of assassins and huntsmen. on the surface, he appears to be like every nobleman there is. he’s beautiful, eloquent, and well read. unknown to most people, he works directly for the royal family, taking out political adversaries who dare to challenge the monarchy. he is particularly close with the acting monarch, vil schoenheit. rook is adept in every poison, weapon, and item possible. a spoon can become a weapon of death if he needs to be. though somewhere deep down, all the assassin wants to do is retire from his life of bloodshed and live in a cottage in the woods, away from people and where no one can find him.

epel felmier

the secret aristocrat. was the bastard son of an aristocratic man. the shame was too much to bear so he was given to a local apple farmer who raised him like his own son. his beauty was truly something to behold but it had people suspicious. how could the son of a farmer possibly be this beautiful? on a sunny day while epel was carving his apples to sell them and help his father make ends meet, he is suddenly approached by a wealthy looking man with a piece of paper. it was sudden how epel was sucked into the scene of the aristocracy. he was his father’s only biological child and was set to inherit all of his father’s wealth. but epel didn’t want it. why want something that he never asked for? besides, if he had a choice, he’d share the wealth with his fellow townspeople. he grew to resent the world of the aristocracy as they continue to suffocate him with frills and lace.

SAVANACLAW

leona kingscholar

the royal tactician. second in line to the throne but always underestimated. what good is he as a royal prince for his entire lifetime? his nephew is next in line as king and is very annoying. but his strategies always work. extremely intelligent and good at predicting people’s movements. but his brother never takes any of his suggestions. except...oops! an accident causes his brother’s demise but his nephew cheka is too young to take the throne. so leona stands in place of cheka until cheka becomes of age. promises to share the wealth of the elite, which is a promise he keeps. but the aristocracy isn’t so happy about his decision. it’s for the betterment of his kingdom. he has a strategy and it’s going exactly as planned.

ruggie bucchi

the conniving thief. grew up poor. resents the aristocracy and wants to watch them burn. he attempted to steal from the second prince one day and got caught. impressed, leona offered to teach him everything he knew about magic. punishment was extremely risky so ruggie had no choice but to accept. what happened was far greater than he expected. he learned the tactics of leona, learned how to read people, and eventually became leona’s trusted friend. he operates outside of the palace, listening to the gentle simmering of discontent with the current king. he steals something of value from you when you visit and you chase him down, constantly stopped by his magic. and yet you somehow manage to keep up and find a way to beat his tactics. he respects you for that and returns what he stole with a smirk on his face. when you look up, he’s already gone, having disappeared from the alleyway.

jack howl

the young knight. saw the leona kingscholar fight on the battlefield once and became inspired. wasn’t hard to begin his training as a knight as he hails from a family of knights. shows a sense of naivete in his worldview. is assigned to be a guard for the royal tactician. leona sees his interest in tactics and begins to teach jack on how to be a better one, how to outsmart his enemy. the young knight finds kinship with the royal tactician unbeknownst that he is a pawn in leona’s game.

OCTAVINELLE

azul ashengrotto

the granter of wishes. he can grant anything you wish for! for a price of course. grew up by the sea but was poor. family barely made ends meet. so he decided to hone his magic and get into a prestigious magic academy by demonstrating in the city. after graduating, he became a granter of wishes. you must sign a contract if you were to want something. he takes money but if your wish calls for it, something of value, greater than money could ever provide, must be sacrificed. he’s charming. but don’t fall for it. he’s dangerous and you must never let your guard down.

jade leech

the royal botonist. was born by the sea but was separated from his twin brother. was taken in by an family of botonists. he joined their ranks. he supplies herbs and everything necessary for the royal apothecary. has a particular fondness for mushrooms which his family finds odd. not a big fan of seafood. walks into a seaside town to do some research where he meets a man who looks very similar to him. after conversing, the chance encounter takes jade to the archives of the town where he discovers that the man is his long lost twin brother, floyd.

floyd leech

the pirate. born by the sea and separated from his twin brother. unlike his twin, he was taken in by a pirate crew. has a unique affinity with water magic which he uses to his advantage. not as refined as his twin brother. a lot more rowdy and teasing. definitely flirty. the women in town desire him. the men blush when he talks to them. everyone appears to be attracted to this man. your face turns beet red when he approaches you, earring hanging from his ear. he runs into a man who looks eerily similar to him where they converse. before floyd sets out on his next adventure on the seas, the same man stops him with a birth record. he reveals that he is his twin brother jade.

SCARABIA

kalim al-asim

the crown prince. carefree and joyous. the people absolutely love him. he’s your childhood best friend after all. always dresses elaborately. but doesn’t take his duties seriously. always threatened by his own brothers because of the line of succession. but to some extent, he just doesn’t want it. he doesn’t want the throne. he wants to explore the world just like you. and even with you.

jamil viper

the civil servant. next in line to be the advisor for the future king, the crown prince. worked his way up with his intelligence. impoverished, looked down upon. stole bread, stole fruit, and, most importantly, stole books to try to learn how to read. one of the only ways he could climb was to learn to read so he could study and take the civil service exam. however, he got caught by a scholar when trying to steal a book. instead of being reprimanded, the scholar offered him a place for him to stay where he would teach jamil everything he needed to know to pass the exam. why? jamil couldn’t fathom the answer until he passed where the scholar told him they look out for each other. it was a silent understanding. to some extent, he resents the crown prince. kalim has everything jamil ever wanted. and he would throw it all away, just like that!

IGNIHYDE

idia shroud

the hermit. resides in a house far from other people even in his own kingdom. resides in the home with his brother ortho. people seek him out for life changing spells that come at a deep cost. is it truly worth it to go see the hermit? you hear tales of how frightening he is but when you stumble across him, you learn he’s really just awkward and doesn’t like to be around people. and perhaps one reason why is because he was born to a family cursed by witches long ago.

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levi-my-beloved · 3 years ago

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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.

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slytherinsnekxvii · 4 years ago

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this isn't my best work, but it's still pretty good for something i wrote when i was 15 after having a half a year of writer's block. anyways, ahem, presenting the fic in which severus says fuck it after the lake incident and just doesn't go back to hogwarts but potentially gets dragged into the war anyway despite living in the muggle world for like,, three years, part 1 (aka the only chapter i wrote bc my writer's block came back oops):

It starts simply, like most things do. It starts with a few words, tossed out without care and full of childish conviction. It escalates to brawls in the corridors and duels in the dungeons--if you could even call them that when it was four-on-one and most encounters left him reeling. It continues until he's twitchy and hypervigilant and awkward, always on the lookout for an attack, ready to bite before anyone could bite him.

It ends much the same. The events leading up to this are a production fit for the theatre, if the crowd is anything to by, but the ending itself is quite simple. Gasping for air near the shore of the Black Lake and battling a headache that hurts almost as much as the sharp press of his heart at the thought of what he'd done to Lily, he simply gives up. He picks himself up, tells himself this is the end of it and goes about collecting his belongings.

His wand comes to his hand easily enough with a mumbled Accio. His bag does, as well. Its contents, on the other hand, have to be collected by hand. His textbooks and ink are strewn beneath the tree, mostly, but the loose parchment and his quill are lost to the wind. He snatches up what he can find before someone gets it into their head to come further humiliate him and turns to head back into into the castle. Only to be smacked in the face by a bound sheaf of parchment and a quill. It's suspicious, and he's tempted to burn it then and there. It's his, but they were definitely scattered about the grounds two seconds ago. He doesn't burn it. He hesitates, puts it in his bag and returns to the castle, intent on making his way to Gryffindor Tower.

The apology doesn't go well. Lily isn't interested, refuses to hear it. He returns to the Slytherin dorms, drops into his bed and thanks Merlin that they'll be going home soon. Cokeworth is God-awful, but at least there's only one man trying to kill him there and only one woman for him to disappoint.

So, he waits it out. Spends his final classes looking over his shoulder and staring blankly at his parchment every time he remembers that they tried to kill him and they humiliated him and they got away with both. He shrinks into himself, avoiding the corridors at all costs, skipping meals to avoid being in the Great Hall and spends as much time as possible in the Library and the dusty old Potions Lab on the Fourth Floor that no one knows about, losing himself in research so he doesn't have to interact with his Housemates. He sits alone at the Leaving Feast, refuses to touch his plate until Evan Rosier falls into the seat next to him and bothers him into eating. The Headmaster dismisses them, says that they'll see each other come September and lets them filter out onto the train.

He ends up sharing a compartment with Mulciber, Avery and Rosier even though he's barely spoken to any of them since the incident. Evan needles him about everything and nothing the whole way to King's Cross, and when they get there, Evan claps him on shoulder and that's goodbye.

He gathers up his things, goes to meet his mother so they can Apparate home and not waste what little money they have on transport. Eileen's cheeks are sunken, her arms rail thin, her dress loose-fitting. He'd still rather see her than anyone even loosely affiliated with Hogwarts. She nods at him, he nods back. They go home.

He spends his summer making himself useful. He does odd jobs for the neighbours, is grudgingly polite to his father, takes care of his mother. By the time term rolls around, people are talking about that Snape boy. Strange, and quiet, too, but he works well, doesn't he? September first dawns bright and early, and Severus doesn't go back to Hogwarts.

He studies at home instead, nose buried in his mum's old books. He plants the few ingredients he has hidden away in his trunk at the back of the house and uses what grows to brew medicines and weedkillers and anything he can think of after experimenting a bit. Mr. and Mrs. Smith down the street both swear up and down he's working magic on their little garden and their old bones.

He feeds cats, delivers packages for the grocer, takes tables and nightstands home to cast Reparo on. Someone tells the pub owner about him, and the next thing he knows, he's frying chips and learning how to mix drinks even though the most complicated thing anyone ever orders is a pint of the beer that they have on tap.

It's not a bad existence. Eventually, slowly, his mother starts coming back to herself. She takes over the brewing when he isn't around. Annotates his annotations and even makes a trip to Diagon Alley for more ingredients to add to their garden when Severus forgets to write Narcissa to ask her to send a few more.

Severus is old enough now to drag his father home from the pub behind him when he's done working. One evening, they come home and Tobias nearly trips over the end table that Severus is meant to be fixing for Mr. Williams three houses up. Severus works his wand out of his boot and goes to cast a spell, but Tobias grumbles and bats his hand away. Drunk as he is, he still digs out his toolbox and gets to work. The job turns out almost decent.

By December, Severus is at the pub, feeding cats on his break and making deliveries when he has the time. Eileen is brewing and Tobias is doing carpenter's work fixing and building wardrobes, cupboards, cabinets and everything else. It keeps him busy enough that some days he doesn't see a drink at all. It's not much, but there's a little food on the table at the end of each day, and Severus thinks that he's probably better off than he would have been at Hogwarts.

Sometime around Christmas, his mother talks him into getting a Muggle education and writing his NEWTs. He writes the O-Levels for his Muggle exams in January. They're a breeze, given how well-read he is. He sees Petunia at the store shortly after, and she sneers vaguely in his direction. He hears her condescending voice in the back of his head and decides to sit the A-Levels in May out of spite.

His birthday comes and goes, the NEWTs come right after and he aces each and every one of the written exams. The practicals are spread out across the following weeks, and he's leaving the Ministry after his last exam to find that the date coincides with that of a field trip for the Sixth Years at Hogwarts.

He watches them a little, tearing his gaze away after he catches sight of a tanned arm draped over a shoulder touched by a red braid. The students mill near the doors for a while and so, Severus looks around for escape routes, eyes skipping hurriedly from door to door until they rest on a Ravenclaw who'd also taken the January NEWTs. All kinds of people had been there, adults who hadn't passed when they were younger and needed to retake the exams to get jobs, teenagers who had family fortunes waiting for them whose parents wanted them to at least look like they were competent, and overachievers--like Severus assumed the Ravenclaw was--who wanted to know where they stood before the actual exam. He jerks his chin toward another door, this one proclaiming to lead to the "Apparition Division". Severus nods once at him and makes his way toward it.

There's a one-day course for Apparition, apparently. The woman at the receptionist desk doesn't even bother looking at him, just points him in the direction of the Training Room with her nail file. He stays for nearly the rest of the day, until they're finally done. He gets his license and is quietly pleased to see that the building is nearly devoid of life when he leaves. He goes home.

May and June come around and bring with them the A-Levels. He finds them only marginally more challenging than his O-Levels and returns to his routine. It's a nice routine, which takes him all the way through to July of the next year when Lily starts coming in with Black and Potter and Pettigrew and Lupin. The first time it happens, he leaves the counter so fast that the patron he'd just given a glass of water to is convinced he teleported. He's already taken his regular break to go feed Mrs. Jones' cats, so he steps into the kitchen and tells Jimmy he's taking a smoke break. Jimmy snorts and reminds him that he doesn't smoke.

He fidgets, trying to think up a way to avoid going back out, when the ruckus they're making makes Jimmy look through the little window and see the lot of them crowded around a little table. He gets a peculiar look on face for a bit, before he asks Severus if they have something to do with why he doesn't go to his fancy school anymore. He doesn't need an answer, just tells him to keep an eye on the food and steps out to man the counter. Severus stays late, frying chips and washing dishes until the early hours of the morning when Jimmy pats him on the back and kicks him out.

It keeps up until September comes around, and by then, Severus has taken so many smoke breaks that he's actually started smoking. He keeps smoking long after they're gone.

He goes back to his routine until it's broken again by a letter that comes by owl. It's a short letter, coming from a Potions Master whose apprentice had been overseeing the exams. It claims that his work was the best either of them had seen in years and after asking around, they'd found that he was unbound to any Master and was highly recommended by the Malfoys. It ends with an offer. Severus would think himself foolish not to accept, so, he does. After that, two days a week are dedicated to Flooing to Master Diogene's laboratory to fulfil the requirements of his apprenticeship. It finds its own little nook in his routine and so he continues until June of 1980.

He's preparing to go to the pub when there's a knock at the door. It's not so uncommon anymore, so he thinks nothing of it, only that he hopes it doesn't take too long. His shift starts in half an hour. He pushes his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, where they perpetually are these days, and decides he'll roll them up properly later. He opens the door.

"Good afternoon," a very pregnant Lily says, and standing next to her is the Ravenclaw from the Ministry, back straight, arms clasped behind his back, his entire being alert.

"Good afternoon," he replies, awkward. After a long moment of silence, he asks, "Can I help you?"

"Depends on whether or not you let us in," she says.

Wordlessly, he steps aside, sliding the three pairs of shoes nearer to the wall in order to let them pass. "Do you want tea?"

"No," she says, at the exact same time her Auror friend says, "Thank you."

He gestures them into the little kitchen, where they sit at the little table where he and his mother and his father take their meals. He tugs his wand out of his boot, flicks it so that the cauldron bubbling away on the stove scoots aside but doesn't spill. The burner beneath lights on its own. He puts the kettle, already full, on to boil. "So," he begins, absentmindedly rolling up his sleeves. "Is there something you need from me?"

Lily smiles, strained. "Can't I just visit an old friend?"

"Sure," he says, quietly. "You made it very clear that you would prefer if we weren't, though."

Her expression twists. "And with good reason," she grits.

He says nothing. The kettle whistles. He searches for the boxes of tea, sets about mixing two cups of mint. He puts them both on a tray with milk and sugar, as well as the small container of honey kept for special occasions. He puts it on the table.

"I'm sorry."

She doesn't say anything, just watches him with bright, green eyes aflame with old anger. She picks up one of the teacups and starts doctoring it to her liking. Her Auror friend follows suit. It really is obvious, Severus thinks, watching the man scan the room from top to bottom, corner to corner. He sighs. "Why are you here, Lily?"

She glares at her tea. The Auror shifts uncomfortably. Severus sighs again. "You know, when people visit old friends, they usually don't bring Aurors with them."

"Trainee, actually. This is my last year." He grins sheepishly. "That obvious?"

Severus nods.

He leans over the table, stretches out a hand. His right, Severus notices. He leans over and shakes with his left.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt," the Auror trainee introduces himself.

"Severus Snape, but you already knew that."

"Ah, yes. Of course."

Lily continues to glare at her tea. Shacklebolt fidgets. Severus stares, adjusts the heat on the burner below the cauldron. Silence prevails. The door creaks open, just then, and Eileen comes in, stirring rod in hand. "You'll be late if--oh," she says, noticing their guests. "Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon," the other three respond with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

"Well, if it isn't Lily Evans. It's been quite a while, hasn't it? You look well," Eileen says, nudging her son out of the way so she can poke at the mixture in the cauldron.

"You as well," Lily mumbles. "And it's, ah, it's Potter now, actually. Lily Evans Potter."

"Ah, I see. My mistake. Congratulations are in order, then, Mrs. Potter."

"Congratulations," Severus echoes.

"And you're a Shacklebolt, yes?" Eileen continues, her hands methodically sprinkling ground lavender into the cauldron. "Elodie's son, I should think. You resemble her quite a bit."

"Yes, ma'am," the trainee replies. "Grandmother says I'm nearly a carbon copy."

Eileen hums, lowers the heat under the cauldron. She takes out the stirring rod, examining the clinging lavender paste before wiping it off and placing it on the counter. "I suppose I'll leave you it, though Doris just passed, and she said that Jimmy has a full house, so, do try to hurry. It's already nearly four."

"Yes, Mam."

She leaves, and once more, silence settles over the small kitchen. Severus looks at the clock on the wall, sees that it does, indeed, say that it's minutes to four. Eleven minutes, to be exact, and it's a ten minute walk to the pub. He starts gathering the tea things, has just taken Shacklebolt's empty teacup when Lily clears her throat.

"Are you a Death Eater?" she asks.

"No," Severus tells her, and takes her teacup. Ten minutes to four.

"Prove it," she says, glaring.

Severus sets down the tray and leans across the table, arms outstretched, palms up, forearms exposed. The skin on either arm is pale, smooth and utterly unmarked, save and except for the scars one is bound to get when their preferred work involves knives and hot cauldrons.

"You keep regular contact with Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy, as well as Regulus Black and Evan Rosier, all of whom are suspected Death Eaters. Why?"

Severus' eyes narrow. "Lucius is sponsoring my Potions Mastery. Narcissa, for whatever reason, enjoys my conversation. Regulus and Evan both seem to think that I'll drop dead if I don't speak to them at least once a week and I haven't been able to disabuse them of the notion--though, not for lack of trying."

"So, you aren't planning to become a Death Eater?" Seven minutes to four.

"I'm not," Severus says, biting down on something rising in his chest. He returns the tea things to their proper places, washes the cups and sets them to dry. When he looks at them again, Lily's glare has softened into an unwavering stare.

"Are you certain?" she asks, and Severus grits his teeth.

"Oh, no, not at all. I only left the Wizarding World to live in a Muggle neighbourhood with my Muggle father, work for a Muggle and feed old ladies' cats and fix their husbands' cabinets because I thought it would make it easier for me when I decided I wanted to murder them all. Obviously," he snaps, throat closing around the words as soon they've been forced out of his mouth. His jaw clamps shut. Three minutes to four.

"You're being an a—" she starts, but then she bites her tongue. "Why... why did you leave?"

He stands silent for a moment. "Reasons I don't believe we have time to discuss. It appears that I'm late for work, I'm afraid." The clock reads three fifty-nine. By the time, he reaches the front door, it will be four o' clock. He starts walking.

"But–" Lily begins, standing.

He gestures them onto the porch while he shoves his feet into his boots. "Terribly sorry to leave in a hurry like this, but duty calls. Things to do, people to see. Enjoy your evening, Mrs. Potter. Auror Trainee Shacklebolt." Four o' clock.

"Really–"

"Until next time, Mr. Snape," Shacklebolt interjects, and with a stiff nod, he and Lily make their way towards the Apparition Point they'd used and Severus is walking down the street. He exhales, slowly, carefully at the quiet, telltale crack of Disapparition off in the distance. He picks up the pace and hopes that'll be the end of it. He knows it won't, though. Until next time, Shacklebolt said.

It isn't the end, of course. It never is. There's a knock at the door just before he's ready to leave the next afternoon, and he contemplates just not answering the door and staying at home for the foreseeable future. There's enough food to last at least a week, and he could always just tell Mrs. Havisham that he wasn't feeling well. The news would make it around the town and back within the day. The knock sounds again. He sighs and gets up to go answer it. "Can I help you?"

"Only if you want to. May I come in?" Shacklebolt asks.

Against his better judgement, Severus lets him in.

#severus snape #snapedom #pro snape #fic #i didn't expect anyone to take me seriosuly but someone did and goddamn it i'll be damned if i don't give them something to read #anyways have fun #probably a bit ooc #but that's what makes aus fun amirite hehe #alright that's enough from me

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solomonish · 3 years ago

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Hii I saw astrology and divination talk and got curious! If you are into it, do you have any even vague headcanon of what Solomon's relevant(?) placements could be? This topic always makes me go 👀 and its funny that even ancient demons got their lil sun sign listed on their profiles lmao.

Completely disregard this if u dont like astrology though oh 🙈😳 and also !!! hope you're having a nice day~💌

HELLLLLLLOOO my love I hope you meant big three signs because that's what I did lol! And no I did not BUT the moment I got the ask that prompted this I did wonder "hmmm what would Solomon's big three be?" and then this ask came in SO...I looked it up lol

I will warn you though that I don't know a lot about astrology other than my own sun sign (Aries) so this is all from a quick little search!! My descriptions of what they're about come from here so if it's wrong.........I tried <3

Solomon's Big Three

Explaining his Sun Sign - Sagittarius

starslikeyou describes Sagittarius like so:

"Born with the Sun in Sagittarius, you are gifted with an abundance of warmth, energy and positivity. Your sign is noted for a willingness to transcend the everyday by pushing boundaries, demanding freedom and seeking to explore unchartered horizons whenever possible. Your journey involves discovering all that is possible.

At a deeper level, your sign is also concerned with the cultural, philosophical and metaphysical frameworks which make life meaningful. Your life path involves searching for truth and then sharing that with others."

Honestly, I think this works for Solomon!! I think his energy and positivity are more calm, but he's very playful and welcoming just in general. Obviously he's all about exploring the unknown [gestures @ immortality] and I definitely headcanon that Solomon knows a little bit about everything. A true renaissance man...

IDK this was short I just wanted to address it lol. Onto the good stuff!

Guessing Solomon's Moon Sign - Scorpio

According to starslikeyou...

"Born with the Moon in Scorpio, you are likely to be sensitive and loyal, but have intense emotional needs...You are likely to give the impression of being perceptive, powerful, and transformational.

Scorpio is also a Fixed sign, suggesting that when you align your emotions with something you desire – be that a friend/lover or an anticipated outcome – you will be constant, enduring and unwilling to let go."

In terms of the emotional needs, I think this might be the weakest part of my argument - but hear me out. The website describes emotional extremes that may swing back and forth, as well as intense reactions to emotions. I could argue that Solomon does experience this - although I think he's gotten good at hiding it.

I wouldn't describe him as having mood swings, but I can think of a few instances where he has shown them. I think this would mainly take place in his anticipation of rejection. We've seen multiple times how he's willing to indulge in being with MC, only for a moment - happy, satisfied - but then he quickly realizes that they could reject him, that they might not want him, and he backs off and retreats again. This isn't exactly a mood swing, but it fits for my argument. He easily flips from accepting and eager to show affection whenever he has the chance to reserved and pulling away. From confident to almost insecure. Additionally, his emotional reaction to the possibility of rejection - or of returned feelings, like in the Threads of Fate devilgram - could also help my case. The website also argues that people with a moon in scorpio are self-aware, introspective, and private individuals, which definitely sounds like Solomon to me.

In terms of intimacy, the website accents a need for emotional honesty, and finding an inner transformation as you share more parts of yourself and expose your vulnerabilities. I've talked about this for long periods of time, but I really, really think that this is the type of beneficial relationship Solomon needs. He needs someone he can trust completely, someone who can get him to open himself up and be a little more free because they accept his past and the parts of him that are messy.

Also the website says this:

"Finally, the Moon here often also brings highly developed intuitive and psychic gifts. You may find yourself drawn to explore the mysteries of life, wanting to know more about magic, alchemy or anything occult."

And if this isn't Solomon, idk what is.

Honorable mentions i also considered: Moon in Gemini for emphasis on communication / knowledge exchange and intuition, Moon in Sagittarius for passion / creativity and a call to freedom, and a tentative Moon in Cancer for intuition and need for connections.

Guessing Solomon's Rising Sign - Aquarius

As starslikeyou says...

"Born with Aquarius on your Ascendant (or Rising), you will find a clearer sense of individuality is gained by stepping back to look at life from an objective perspective. A detached point of view allows for a logical assessment of the circumstances around you, giving you the ability to find, at times, lightning fast resolution to key issues.

This is the sign of the collective over the individual, the group over the singular. You are likely to have an especially broad view on society that allows you to mix with a great variety of people. Your awareness of group and social dynamics is paramount for your overall self-expression. Putting group endeavours first may override purely personal concerns.

There is likely to be a pronounced tendency to act in ways that will benefit the collective, rather than provide personal gain. This then is the rising sign of the true humanitarian, who gets what they need in ways that are socially responsible and considerate.

...You may also be drawn to arenas such as science, politics, communications or human resources, and have a strong social conscience. Usually open to scientific innovation, you can be an early-adopter or work with advances in technology."

This one really hit me as correct because of the whole collective over the individual part. Solomon acts as a sort of guardian for humanity, and he spares no expense to ensure the continued safety of humans. I understand that Solomon formed pacts beforehand and maybe for selfish reasons, but at least now he's put himself in the affairs of demons to make sure humans have some sort of voice. Now that he's in a position of power, he uses his leverage and makes his loyalties known. Demons probably wouldn't eye him so warily if they weren't suspicious of him turning on them or using them - and if he did so, it'd probably be for humans. Whether or not it's a side effect of his warped view on his own humanity, I definitely think he'd put himself in "harm's way" (though with him, the goalposts for that kind of shift compared to other humans) in order for the greater human good.

The sign also highlights intellect and the ability to make specific and well-thought out decisions with complicated information, as well as an impressive intuition. It describes those with this rising sign as idealistic yet practical, somewhat unorthodox or seen as eccentric (and paying the price for this perception), and a somewhat isolated and aloof front. Honestly, the further I read into the page, the more it reads like just an explanation of Solomon.

Honorable mentions i also considered: Rising Virgo for being humble yet sometimes self-effacing, critical and practical tendencies, and and urge to be useful over recognition. Also Rising Scorpio for transformation, charisma and perception, and insight.

ANWAY...I hope this is what you meant with this ask because if not I will feel SO dumb. But either way I hope you enjoyed, maybe even agreed, and I sure hope this information was correct!! And also....I hope your day was/is great too 😘

#obey me #obey me solomon #obey me swd #obey me shall we date #swd solomon #swd obey me #solomon #asked and answered #baalism

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nordleuchten · 3 years ago

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La Fayette in Les Misérables

Les Misérables is one of my absolute favourite books. I never get tired of it – funny coincidence, La Fayette is also in there. I have read the book in three different languages now and noticed that the amount of La Fayette varies in the different versions. The French original sets the precedent of course. The English translation (or, as there are of course several different translations, the English translation I read) featured La Fayette ten times (just as often as the French original). My two German translations feature La Fayette less often than the French and my English one. With that being said, I present to you the La Fayette-szenes in Les Misérables (Les Misérables by Victor Hugo, translated by Lee Fahnestock and Norman MacAfee, based on the translation by C. E. Wilbour, published by Signet Classics, 1987)

Courfeyrac had a father whose name was M. de Courfeyrac. One of the false ideas of the Restoration in point of aristocracy and nobility was its faith in the particle. The particle, we know, has no significance. But the bourgeois of the time of La Minerve considered this poor de so highly that men thought themselves obliged to renounce it. M. de Chauvelin became M. Chauvelin,.M. de Caumartin was M. Caumartin, M. de Constant de Rebecque simply Benjamin Constant, M. de Lafayette just M. Lafayette. Courfeyrac did not wish to be backward, and called himself simply Courfeyrac. (Marius, book four, The Friends of the ABC, p. 653)

So the bourgeoisie, as well as the statesmen, felt the need for a man who would say "Halt!" An Although-Because. A composite individuality signifying both revolution and stability; in other words, assuring the present through the evident compatibility of the past with the future. -This man was found ready-made. His name was Louis-Philippe d'Orleans. The 221 made Louis-Philippe king. Lafayette undertook the coronation. He called it "the best of republics." (Saint-Denis, book one, A few Pages of History, p. 829)

I can not give you a direct written example where La Fayette said “the best of republics” but the statement mirrors his early impressions on Louis-Phillipe’s reign perfectly.

These memories associated with a king fired the bourgeoisie's enthusiasm. With his own hands he had demolished the last iron cage of Mont-Saint-Michel, built by Louis XI and used by Louis XV. He was the companion of Dumouriez, he was the friend of Lafayette; he had belonged to the Jacobin Club; Mirabeau had slapped him on the shoulder; Danton had said to him, "Young man!" (Saint-Denis, book one, A few Pages of History, p. 834)

These doctrines, these theories, these resistances, the unforeseen necessity for the statesman to consult with the philosopher, confused evidences half seen, a new politics to create, in accord with the old world, and yet not too discordant with the ideal of the revolution; a state of affairs in which Lafayette had to be used to oppose Polignac, the intuition of progress glimpsed through the riots, the chambers, and the street, rivalries to balance around him, his faith in the Revolution, perhaps some uncertain eventual resignation arising from the vague acceptance of a definitive superior right, his desire to remain in his lineage, his family pride, his sincere respect for the people, his own honesty-all of this preoccupied Louis-Philippe almost painfully, and at times strong and as courageous as he was, overwhelmed him under the difficulties of being king. (Saint-Denis, book one, A few Pages of History, p. 841)

The distress of the people; laborers without bread; the last Prince de Conde lost in the darkness; Brussels driving away the Nassaus as Paris had driven away the Bourbons; Belgium offering herself to a French prince, and given to an English prince; the Russian hatred of Nicholas; at our back two demons of the south, Ferdinand in Spain, Miguel in Portugal; the earth quaking in Italy; Mettemich extending his hand over Bologna; France bluntly opposing Austria at Ancona; in the north some ill-omened sound of a hammer once more nailing Poland into its coffin; throughout Europe angry looks peering at France; England a suspicious ally, ready to push over anyone leaning and throw herself on anyone fallen; the peerage sheltering itself behind Beccaria to deny four heads to the law; the fteur-de-lis erased from the king's carriage; the cross tom down from Notre-Dame; Lafayette weakened; Lafitte ruined; Benjamin Constant dead in poverty; Casimir Perier dead from loss of power; the political disease and the social disease breaking out in the two capitals of the realm, one the city of thought, the other the city of labor; in Paris civil war, in Lyons servile war; in the two cities the same furnace glare; the flush of the crater on the forehead of the people; the South fanaticized, the West uneasy; the Duchesse de Berry in La Vendee; plots, conspiracies, uprising, cholera, added to the · dismal mutter of ideas, the dismal uproar of events. (Saint-Denis, book one, A few Pages of History, p. 843)

In an instant the little fellow was lifted, pushed, dragged, pulled, stuffed, crammed into the hole with no time to realize what was going on. And Gavroche, coming in after him, pushing back the ladder with a kick so it fell onto the grass, began to clap his hands, and cried, "Here we are! Hurrah for General Lafayette! Brats, my home!” Gavroche was in fact home. (Saint-Denis, book six, Little Gavroche, p. 956-957)

Hence, if insurrection in given cases may be, as Lafayette said, the most sacred of duties, émeute may be the most deadly of crimes. (Saint-Denis, book ten, June 5, 1832, p. 1052)

A circle was drawn up around the hearse. The vast assemblage fell silent. Lafayette spoke and bade farewell to Lamarque. It was a touching and noble moment, all heads uncovered, all hearts throbbed. Suddenly a man on horseback, dressed in black, appeared in the midst of the throng with a red flag, others say with a pike surmounted by a red cap. Lafayette looked away. Exelmans left the cortege. This red flag raised a storm and disappeared in it. From the Boulevard Bourdon to the Pont d'Austerlitz a roar like a surging billow stirred the multitude. Two prodigious shouts arose: "Lamarque to the Pantheon! Lafayette to the Hotel de Ville!" Some young men, amid the cheers of the throng, took up the harness and began to pull Lamarque in the hearse over the Pont d'Austerlitz, and Lafayette in a fiacre along the Quai Morland. In the cheering crowd that surrounded Lafayette, a German was noticed and pointed out, named Ludwig Snyder, who later died a centenarian, who had also been in the war of 1776, and who had fought at Trenton under Washington and under Lafayette at Brandywine. Meanwhile, on the left bank, the municipal cavalry was in motion and had just barred the bridge; on the right bank the dragoons left the Celestins and deployed along the Quai Morland. The men who were pulling Lafayette suddenly saw them at the bend of the Quai, and cried, "The dragoons!" The dragoons were advancing at a walk, in silence, their pistols in their holsters, their sabers in their sheaths, their muskets at rest, with an air of gloomy expectation. At two hundred paces from the little bridge, they halted. The fiacre bearing Lafayette made its way up to them, they opened their ranks, let it pass, and closed again behind it. At that moment the dragoons and the multitude came together. The women fled in terror. (Saint-Denis, book ten, June 5, 1832, p. 1059-1060)

Ludwig Snyder was a historical person who indeed existed and not a person that Hugo made up.

Alarming stories went the rounds, ominous rumors were spread. "That they had taken the Bank" ; "that, merely at thencloisters of Saint-Merry, there were six hundred, entrenched and fortified in the church"; "that the line was doubtful"; "that Armand Carrel had been to see Marshal Clausel and that the marshal had said, 'Have one regiment in place first,' " ; "that Lafayette was sick, but that he had said to them, 'I am with you. I will follow you anywhere that there is room for a chair' "; "that it was necessary to keep on their guard; that at night people would pillage the isolated houses in the deserted neighborhoods of Paris (the imagination of the police was recognized here, that Anne Radcliffe element in government)" ; "that a battery had been set up in the Rue Aubry-le-Boucher" ; "that Lobau and Bugeaud were conferring; and that at midnight, or daybreak at the latest, four columns would march at once on the center of the emeute, the first coming from the Bastille, the second from the Porte Saint-Martin, the third from La Greve, the fourth from Les Hailes"; "that perhaps the troops would evacuate Paris and fall back on the Champ de Mars"; "that nobody knew what might happen, but that certainly, this time, it was serious." (Saint-Denis, book ten, June 5, 1832, p. 1067-1068)

I could not find any historical reference about the chair-quote and I am pretty sure that Hugo made that up - however, it sounds very much like something that La Fayette would say - and Hugo and La Fayette probably knew each other, although superficially. Toward the end of La Fayette’s life, when Hugo was still a young men, there were different salons in Paris that both attended and it is quite likely that they both ran into each other during one of these meetings.

At this moment the bantam rooster voice of little Gavroche resounded through the barricade. The child had climbed up on a table to load his musket and was gaily singing the song then so popular:

En voyant Lafayette

Le gendarme repete

Sauvons-nous! Sauvons-nous! Sauvons-nous ! (Saint-Denis, book fourteen, The Grandeur of Despair, p. 1143)

This scene is not featured in my German version. It is mentioned that Gavroche sang a song but the text is not given in that translation.

They take you, they hold on to you, they never let go of you. The truth is, there was never any amour like that child. Now, what do you say of your Lafayette, your Benjamin Constant, and of your Tirecuir de Corcelles, who kill him for me ! It can't go on like this." (Jean Valjean, book three, Mire, but Soul, p. 1317)

La Fayette did not made it into the musical version of Les Misérables (neither in the French Original nor in the more popular English version) although he would have fit perfectly in there. I also have never seen him featured in any of the countless movie or TV adaptations - officially at least. Some adaptations that feature the funeral of General Lamarque have some extras running around that I sometimes turn into La Fayette - that was not the intended casting but it worked out for me nonetheless :-)

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dialovers-translations · 4 years ago

Text

Diabolik Lovers VANDEAD CARNIVAL ;; Sleeping Vampire ー Sakamaki Reiji

Source: Diabolik Lovers Vandead Carnival

Seiyuu: Katsuyuki Konishi

Audio: Here

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Reiji enters your room.

*Rustle rustle*

“...Have I woken you up? Aah, were you just about to sleep, perhaps? Perfect timing. Well then, is it laying comfortably?”

You frown.

"What do you mean ‘in what way’? I am obviously referring to the bed.”

You raise a brow.

“Can you not tell? It is a different one from usual, no? Haah...I suppose there is no point in saying these things to a slow-witted human such as yourself.”

*Rustle rustle*

"Hm...I see. High quality goods really make a world’s difference. The way it feels against my hand...I can tell straight away just from touching it. Yet, when it comes to you...”

You try touching the fabric too.

"Exactly. Is it different from yesterday, isn’t it?I had it upgraded earlier, while you were at school. I traded in another bedding in exchange for this antique bed. It has been imported from a well-known store in Western Europe so I was hoping to get your review as well.”

You slowly nod.

“Yet, I am disappointed...you gave me the one response I wanted to hear the least. I suppose I should have just left your bed as is if you are unable to tell the different either way. It is severly troubling how you seem to be on the same level as my other siblings.”

You ask how the others reacted.

“...Hah? What are you saying? I obviously only traded in our bed. I doubt those triplets would care about how comfortable the bed is or not. As for Subaru, it would be suspicious for him to even sleep in a bed. ...I do not need to explain why I didn’t bother with that good-for-nothing, right?”

You chuckle awkwardly.

“Either way, you are the only one who will sleep in this bed besides me. Therefore, I came to hear your impression first but...”

Reiji moves into the bed.

*Rustle rustle*

“I have decided to confirm the quality myself by sleeping in it. ...There is nothing strange about that, right? This bedding is mine. And of course, yours too, Yui. Therefore, I do not understand why I would need to get told off for sleeping by your side. Am I wrong? ...Yes, as long as you understand. That being said...It does not disappoint. It is lovely, and feels nice to the touch as well. The hardness of the mattress is perfect as well...Exactly my preference. How about you?”

You respond.

“...What a vague answer. I would like you to be a little more specific. For example...How well does your body sink into the mattress? If you were to state that you cannot quite tell because I am lying down next to you, that’d be the most trivial thing to fuss over. (1) ...After all, this certainly will not be the last time we sleep together.”

You seem a little surprised.

“Please think about the meaning behind my words by yourself...Fufu. What do you think? Don’t you think the way it feels when both of us are lying down at the same time is simply lovely? The sturdiness supporting the body, as well as this sensation of being tucked in snugly...It’s perfectly balanced, don’t you think?”

You frown.

“You can’t tell? Haah...That is highly troubling. You are aware...why I went out of my way to upgrade your bedding, no?”

You thank him.

“No need to thank me. Haah...It is such a chore to have to explain every single thing to people who take forever to understand. You must become more aware of your own position.”

You raise a brow.

“You’re prey, right? Therefore, I must ensure you get a proper night’s rest and remain well and healthy. It is your duty to take good care of your own body in this wonderful environment.”

You protest.

“...Fufu. I am not worried about your health. ...However, do you want me to suck blood from an unfit body? The state of your blood is a given, but also your skin is very important. If the wounds heal slower, it will definitely start taking its toll on your body. And eventually, this will lead to an overall worsening of your physique. I am sure you know that better than anyone else?”

You slowly nod.

“...Well, that being said, there are positives as well. If my marks were to remain on your skin forever...It proves that you belong to me after all. Even if you were to let yourself get captured by some other man and he rips the clothes off your body...As long as your body is littered with my marks, I am sure you will be able to make it out unscathed.”

You flush bright red.

“Why yes. If there were to be a guy out there quite as stupid as to ignore the many perfect and beautiful marks I put on you, I would have long gotten rid of him before he even gets a shot at approaching you.”

You ask him how he would do that.

“Fufu...Who knows? However, I shall ensure he disappears off the surface of this earth, no matter what it takes. However, you seem to love walking into you traps with your eyes wide open, so I would like to ask you to be plenty cautious. Spacing out due to a lack of sleep would be simply outrageous. In the end, be mindful to get enough sleep.”

You nod.

“That being said...Care to explain the way you dress for bed? No matter how good the bedding may be, it is utterly useless when you wear a nightgown made from such cheap materials.”

You explain.

“...You couldn’t help pick it up because the design was cute? You truly are a shallow person. It seems like there are still many aspects in which I will need to re-educate you. The word ‘negligee’ actually means ‘sloppy’. (2) If you were to wear such a cheap type, it will drop the quality of your sleep. Go ahead and touch my clothes.”

*Rustle rustle*

“Can you tell? Which fabric this is...”

You respond.

“Exactly. It’s made from silk. Once I felt just how smooth it is to the touch, I simply cannot choose anything above it. Of course the bedding and the pillow covers of this bed are made from silk as well. You had noticed as much, no?”

You are shocked.

“Seems like you are raising your voice in surprise...Oh well, I suppose it is fine. Silk ranks high even amongst quality fabrics, so it is perfect for clothing. I shall give you one in the future as well. When that happens...Well, I suppose I shall try and be mindful of the design as well. It is important I choose a piece which will suit you after all.”

You thank him.

“No need to express your gratitude. I know what fits you best better than anyone else after all. You want a night dress with a wide collar (3), no?”

You protest.

“You’ll get cold? No need to worry about that. If I were to suck your blood from the exposed skin, your skin will heat up in no time, and you will no longer experience any cold. It seems like this happens naturally to you when you wriggle around your body and raise your voice...”

You get flustered again.

“Yes, I am picturing your disheveled appearance right now after all. No point in denying it. ...Lift your face.”

*Rustle*

“Seems like you are misunderstanding something here. Good grief...You really continue to be so foolish. You need to fit the image of a prey, no? Do you happen to know what is the most important quality of a prey?”

You frown.

“Yet, why are you giving me that kind of look? I never said I was being considerate of you, did I? I simply said I would look for something which fits you. Isn’t it obvious I would judge them by my own personal opinon? Please know your place. ...However, well, I do have a fairly good grasp on your own preferences. If I feel like it, I will take those into consideration somewhat. I have no intention of stopping you from having large expectations. Please, be my guest. “

You giggle.

“...You. Why are you laughing? Please stop giving me those infuriating reactions. Haah...It is bed time already, is it not?”

You tell him you can’t.

“You are no longer tired? Please do not spout such nonsense. I am surprised you still dare speak those words after all the trouble I went through to explain everything to you.”

You ask him for advice.

“I see. I am glad you are thinking of ways which live up to what I’ve said earlier. ...A technique to sleep well, you say? If I had to start naming those, the list would be endless. If you want something simple, I suppose enjoying a hot beverage before bed would work just fine.”

You tell him you already did.

“...Hooh, you already had something earlier? That was a rather good idea coming from someone like you. And? What did you drink?”

You respond.

“...Tea, you say? Why did you choose tea out of all things? Just tellme. ...Do you feel like you’ve heard somewhere that it promotes a sound sleep?”

You nod.

“Haah...As to be expected, you always disappoint me. Did you not know that tea, just like coffee, actually suppresses drowsiness? No matter how relaxing the aroma might be, you must avoid consuming beverages with such effects. Now if you were to add (4) a little something into said tea, it could be a whole different story, of course...”

You tilt your head to the side.

“Yes, if you were lose conscious, you will find sleep right away. In that case, would you like to put that to the test right away?”

You shake your head.

“If you do not wish for me to make these kind of jokes, then please fix your own blunder first. Good grief. You really are hopeless to let yourself get tricked by those ridiculous rumors. If you continue to blindly believe random talk told to you by just about anyone, you will one day end up in serious trouble, you know? You should only ever...listen to what I say. ...No objections, I assume?”

You agree.

“Warm milk is strongly advised before bed. I suggest you try that from here on out. It is important you not only make a promise, but live up to it as well. ...Let us have milk delivered directly from a farm. Having a fresh serving every day seems ideal.”

You tell him he doesn’t need to go that far for you.

“I do not need to put in so much effort, you say? It seems like you are misunderstanding something? I do not intend to consider your feelings even one bit. ...This is simply me taking care of my prey. Good grief. How could you still not understand after I’ve made myself clear so many times? ...Haah. I do not like doing things half-heartedly. Even if said ‘thing’ is taking care of my prey...To do it perfectly, I have to ensure that there isn’t even the slightest mistake. I did not think I would have to go this far to ensure that you behave as I wish, but it seems like you are either very bad at understanding, or you are simply a natural at upsetting your Master...You really are a handful. ...If you understand, come on. Get some rest already.”

You ask him to leave.

“...Why must I get ordered around by you? On top of that, you are asking me to leave the room...”

You frown.

“...The answer is no. I changed the pillows today as well, so I will remain by your side until you fall asleep. It is quite common for people to have trouble sleeping when their pillow has changed after all. Well, you are an unfortunate person who seems to not even realize the fact...but I’d rather be safe than sorry. Well then, go sleep. Close your eyes...Yes.”

You close your eyes.

"...Why are you tending up?”

You ask how he can tell.

“I’ve seen your sleeping face so much I’m tired of it. Of course I would be able to tell. Put in some effort into falling asleep. For example, how about you rely on one of the many ridiculous rumors made up by humankind and try counting sheep? Well, I doubt such a technique will work...I do not understand why you inferior lot even bothered to come up with it. However, it might actually be a perfect fit for you. Come on, try it out.”

You start counting sheep.

“...Fufu. You’re actually doing it? You truly are a fool...to blindly trust such a laughable technique. Well, I suppose that is exactly why a ridiculous method fits you so well.”

You protest.

“...What is the matter? Why are you calling out for me in the middle of counting?”

You explain.

“You can feel my gaze even with your eyes closed? I do not see how that would be a problem. Why would I need to look away from the person I am observing? I will stay here until I properly confirm that you have indeed fallen asleep. Or are you perhaps troubled by my presence in some way? If that were the case, I must ask for your reasoning. Come on, tell me.”

You reply.

“It’s embarrassing? ...What are you saying? I do not understand why you would feel ashamed from me being by your side like this. Give it some thought. A prey who would feel embarrassed by their own Master makes no sense, does it?”

You try and explain.

“I see...You have a different reason. Well, you do have a point that looking at things from a one-sided perspective is pure nonsense. Then what other reasons can you give me? Are you perhaps embarrassed because being in the precense of such a skilled, capable Master such as myself is making you once again realize how incompetent you are? Perhaps, it is shame towards your own inability to fulfill your duties as a prey? Or maybe, it is me gazing at you from up close like this...while you are well aware of the strong feelings of affections you harbor towards me?”

You flinch.

“Hooh...Seems like I got it right.”

You open your eyes your eyes again.

“I never gave you permission to open your eyes. Fufu...Are you trying to sneak a peek like that? If you are going to look...You might as well look me straight into the eyes, no?”

You avert your gaze.

“What seems to be the matter? You wanted to watch, right?”

You reluctantly nod.

“Very well. Right...This is a great opportunity. Let us make sure you will no longer (5) become flustered by these kind of situations. I shall make sure you grow used to it from here on out. Well then, lock eyes with me...Do not look away, keep on gazing strongly into my eyes. ...Pardon me.”

Reiji grabs hold of your wrist.

*Rustle*

“Your pulse seems somewhat accelerated. ...I fear for what is to come. Scooting even closer without breaking eye contact, might be even more effective.”

You try and get out of the bed.

*Rustle rustle*

“Woah there. I will not give you the option of running away....I am still holding onto your wrist after all. I could simply tug you to my side, but where is the fun in that? Come on, please move closer yourself.

You move closer.

*Rustle*

“More...Closer...What are you dawdling for? I don’t remember telling you to stop?”

You protest.

“You feel like our lips will touch at this rate? Fufu...Is there a problem with that? There is no problem at all. Please continue. ...Or are you perhaps opposed to coming into contact with me?”

You hesitate.

“Why are you complaining now that we’re already so close, we can feel each other’s breath? ...I want you to kiss me. ...This is part of your training. Be sure to heed my orders at all times.”

You shift around.

“What are you hesitating for? ...I shall not go easy on you even if you stall time.”

You sigh in defeat.

“Seems like you finally understood? ...Spare me your words of determination, but get to acting right away.”

*Smooch*

“...Haah.”

You look away.

“Yui. Why are you averting your gaze? You can kiss while retaining eye contact, can you not?”

You tell Reiji he is simply teasing you.

“Yes, of course, my initial intention was to simply gaze into each other’s eyes. However, if I continue training you like this, who knows how many more hundreds of years it will take until you get there. Therefore, one should simply overwrite one’s shame with an action which is even more embarrassing. Do you not feel the same way?”

You hesitate.

“After all, I am not asking you to give me a deep, passionate kiss. Personally, I do not mind just a quick peck which only lasts for a second...But I suppose I shall leave it up to you in the end. I am sure it will help convey just what kind of sentiments you hold for me. For one, I do not know how you truly feel about me. If I have simply been imagining things, then feel free to show me that right now.”

You frown.

“Why do you look so sad?”

You close your eyes once more.

*Smooch*

“Nn...”

You open your eyes.

“Is this your answer?”

You nod.

“...No, I suppose it works. I cannot say it is enough, but I understand now. Well then...Nn...”

*Smooch*

“Do not look...away...Nn...”

*Smooch*

“I will not let you claim you are embarrassed, you know? You are the one...who initiated this kiss after all. I shall make sure you grow completely used to it...Nn...”

*Smooch*

“Hah...What is wrong? If you flush that red, it will affect your blood pressure. As blood vessels, humans are disappointingly fragile, so please be careful. However, could you please not start breathing heavily in such an obscene manner from a little kiss? I want you to feel relaxed, not bring you pleasure.”

You apologize.

“I have read somewhere that one can be soothed by touching their lips, forehead or hands. Do you...believe that?”

You nod enthusiastically.

“Hmph. ...Why do you give me such an exhalirating response? ...If you believe those words to be true, then please control your pulse and relax. ...And then, you should ensure that you will be able to sleep soundly.”

“Oh? Have you forgotten already? I came here to manage your sleep schedule. Therefore, I must remain fully aware of my main objective and make sure that I complete it. Do you feel like you’ll be able to get a good night’s rest?”

You shake your head.

“I see. You are a troubling individual. In that case...Let us try touching each other a little more. I do not like the ring of the word ‘skinship’ very much, but I suppose it cannot be helped.”

You smile.

“...Please do not let it get to your head. This does not mean I shall allow any and all actions from you. Well, I will admit that feeling your warmth like this is not uncomfortable.”

*Rustle*

“Excuse me? Why did you grab my hand without permission?”

You explain.

“Your head? ...Like this?”

Reiji pats your head.

*Rustle rustle*

“Fufu, what expression are you making? You look happy...Like a dog getting its fur ruffled. I am fairly certain you are the only person alive who would welcome this hand of mine with a smile on their face.”

You enjoy the head patting.

“...Hmph. Good grief, now that you have learnt this relaxing technique, I fear that I will have to continue laying down by your side every night from here on out...”

You chuckle.

“I shall continue stroking your head like this for a while. ...Goodnight.”

You close your eyes.

“...Haah. ...I get thrown off when you’re with me. You truly are an odd individual...To be defenseless slumbering in my arms like this...However, I would have never thought it would be this soothing to sleep side-to-side. It is something I did not need to know. Yet...I wonder why? It makes me feel strangely warm inside...As if I am being satisfied. Things should have never turned out this way, but I suppose there is simply no helping it at this point.

All of this is your fault, Yui...I shall take the liberty of sleeping by your side tonight. I pray that even in your dreams...You will be able to rest peacefully.”

ーー THE END ーー

Translation notes

(1) The word 詭弁 or ‘kiben’ was kind of difficult for me to translate because if you look it up, you get stuff like ‘sophist. However, apparently it can only mean to fuss over trivial things, or to find fault in trivial things, hence my translation.

(2) The word ‘negligee’, originating from French, is often used in Japan to refer to a nightgown. The word literally means ‘neglected’ in French.

(3) Literally he says ‘which leaves the neck and shoulders wide open’. Pretty much the kind of nightgown Yui wears in the games/anime.

(4) 盛る or ‘moru’ when talking about drinks is often used in the sense of ‘drugging someone’s drink’.

(5) Literally he wants her to ‘graduate’ from her shame. This is an expression often used in Japanese to refer to someone no longer resorting to a certain (bad) action or habit.

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #reiji sakamaki #vandead carnival #diabolik lovers translation #sleeping vampire

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followthebluebell · 5 years ago

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FIP: Feline Infectious Peritonitis

Sprinkles contemplates some birds. We’re re-doing the catios right now, so they’re all closed off. I think she’s looking forward to being outdoors again.

I’m putting a cut here because this is a LENGTHY READ and, in case of further developments, I’d like to be able to easily update this article.

In October 2019, she was diagnosed with ocular FIP (Feline infectious peritonitis), which is a mutation of feline coronavirus (FCoV, which is very distinct from SARS-CoV-2, the virus that causes COVID-19). FCoV is ubiquitous in the cat population: almost every cat has it or is exposed to various strains of it. Most cats get over it just fine with only mild diarrhea. In a small percentage of cats (we’re uncertain on the percentage, which I’ll get into later, but it’s theoretically somewhere between 5-10%), it goes fuckwhack apeshit and mutates into FIP.

We don’t know why it spontaneously mutates. There seems to be a genetic component to it. It’s believed to be more common in purebred cats, but we’re really not sure--- since FIP is a diagnosis by exclusion, there often is a hefty vet bill attached to the diagnosis and a person who can afford to buy a purebred cat from a cattery is more likely to be able to afford that bill. It MAY be triggered by stress. It’s much more common in younger cats, often appearing in kittens ranging from 4 months to 4 years. This doesn’t mean older cats are safe; I know of at least one case in a 12 year old cat.

Sprinkles was diagnosed at 3 and a half months. She didn’t have a particularly stressful event before developing symptoms. She’s not a purebred. I don’t know anything about her genetic history, so I can’t cross that off the list.

Mickey, my second FIP kitten, was diagnosed at 4 months. I know slightly more about his health records but it’s still scant. He arrived with an unusual skin ailment: sarcoptic mange. Hypothetically, this could indicate an already delicate immune system that left him vulnerable to this sort of FCoV mutation.

FIP is deadly and remains, to this day, the most horrifying disease I’ve ever personally encountered. Thankfully, FIP itself is NOT contagious. FCoV is highly contagious but, as previously mentioned, it’s fairly common in the cat population. There was a study done to see if separating kittens from their mother at 7 weeks (approximately the period when a mother’s antibodies begin to wear off and the kittens have to begin producing their own) would prevent cats from catching FCoV from her. This was effective but the social drawbacks are too heavy a cost for it to be considered regularly.

There is a vaccine for FCoV but it’s largely ineffective and most vets don’t recommend it.

FIP comes in two primary forms: wet (effusive) and dry (non-effusive). Usually, FCoV exists only in the gastrointestinal system. It’s really the only place it can replicate itself with ease. Once the virus mutates, it can’t replicate itself as well, but it CAN infect macrophages. Macrophages are highly mobile white blood cells. They go pretty much everywhere, and ones infected with FIPV (Feline Infectious Peritonitis Virus) will carry the virus along for the ride.

The early symptoms are vague. These cats are lethargic, listless, have low or no appetite, weight loss, and a fluctuating fever. The first symptom I caught in Sprinkles was complete avoidance: she was actively avoiding other kittens and other kittens were avoiding her. Mickey’s only symptoms were lethargy and diarrhea. I only got suspicious about possible FIP because the other kittens in his playgroup didn’t have any diarrhea at all.

And this is where we see a split in the forms of FIP.

Effusive FIP is characterized by the accumulation of fluid within the abdomen and is more common. It happens very quickly. Cats with effusive FIP develop breathing problems rapidly. The fluid drawn from the abdomen is usually straw-yellow. Effusive FIP is said to be more common, although only one of the 5 cases I’ve seen in the last few years was wet FIP.

Thankfully, effusive FIP has a few distinct traits that makes it easier to diagnose. It’s important to remember that FIP itself is generally a diagnosis by exclusion.

Measuring the protein in the effusion is a good first step. If it’s less than 35g/l, FIP is generally ruled out.

The albumin to globulin ratio is considered next, via a blood test. If it’s less than 0.4, FIP should be considered.

Finally, examining the cells in the effusion is valuable. If they’re primarily lymphocytes, FIP is excluded.

Non-effusive FIP is more difficult to spot, because the symptoms are so varied. Granulomas (inflammatory cells) form in various organs, which produces an extreme variety of symptoms. The most commonly affected symptoms are the ocular and neurological symptoms.

Ocular FIP happens when the virus crosses the blood-ocular barrier and is characterized by slightly opaque white films on one or both eyes; these don’t cover the entire eye. They’re often just a small section. This was the first distinct symptom I saw in Sprinkles. It’s considered a distinct enough sign that her ophthalmologist was able to tell me that she was 99% certain it was FIP.

Neurological FIP is my own personal hell. The virus crossed the blood-brain barrier and infects the brain. The first symptom is usually a limp or a slight tremble in the head. The paralysis often begins in the hind limbs and it travels upwards. The cat eventually loses all mobility. If the cat is lucky, they’ll begin to have seizures instead and die soon afterwards. Like I said, it remains the single-most awful thing I’ve ever seen.

Non-effusive FIP is harder to diagnose than effusive FIP, especially if the cat fails to develop ocular or neurological symptoms. In these cases, the only symptoms the cat has are fevers, diarrhea, and other non-specific issues.

Once again, the best bet is to consider the albumin to globulin ratio. The same rule of ‘if it’s under 0.4, FIP should be considered’ holds true.

Unfortunately, checking for antibodies is fairly useless. A positive FCoV test just means the cat has been exposed to FCoV.

FIP is deadly. While there are some isolated cases of cats seemingly recovering from it, I think it’s more likely that those were simply misdiagnosed cases. As I’ve said before, FIP is a diagnosis by exclusion, so a misdiagnosis can happen fairly easily. A cat with wet FIP is gone in days. A cat who’s unlucky enough to develop neurological FIP may linger for weeks until they die of starvation, oxygen deprivation as the lungs themselves are paralyzed, or dehydration. Ocular FIP generally spreads into the brain, causing seizures.

Sprinkles is very, VERY lucky. I had been following the study very closely and I had an acquaintance who recently started treating her foster cat for FIP. I was able to get into contact with some folks and obtain experimental treatment for my kittens.

GS-441525

In February 2019, there was a very promising study on a specific drug called GS-441524. Most of the cats involved with the study made a full recovery. The company (Gilead-Sciences) behind the drug wasn’t interested in getting it FDA approved for cats out of concern that it would affect its approval for human use. See, if it’s used officially for cats, Gilead-Sciences would be obligated to report any negative side-effects and that could impact getting it approved for human use down the line. “One of the rules in drug development is ‘never perform a test you don’t have to, if the results could be problematic,” isn’t an uncommon saying. It’s one of the reasons why I fell out of research and development myself.

I had some pull and was able to get experimental access to this drug for Sprinkles and, later, Mickey.

Both kittens went through three months of daily injections and a further 3 months of observations before they were deemed FIP-free. After seeing 3 other cats die from it, it’s been a blessing to see them recover. They’re both especially lucky that they finished their treatment cycle JUST before COVID-19 hit American shores since I couldn’t, in good conscience, continue using a very promising antiviral in cats when it would likely be needed by humans.

It’s definitely not a perfect system. Three months of daily injections (or pills) is not ideal for the average owner for several reasons. In addition to the difficulty of injecting a cat with an EXTREMELY painful drug daily, it also requires a lot of math; the dosage has to be adjusted daily to take weight gain into consideration. Even the concentration has to be adjusted at times. I haven’t used the pills at all, but I know a lot of people have had problems with cats biting through the pills. In addition, the pills seem less effective against neurological or ocular FIP.

Gilead-Sciences has refined GS-441524 into GS-5734 (named Remdesivir), which is supposed to be more efficient. Hypothetically, the addition of the phosphate groups should make it easier for it to get across barriers and be absorbed more easily. Hopefully this will result in a shorter treatment time, although I suspect it will be more expensive than GS-441524. This is already a substantial cost attached to GS-441524, with the treatment of a single cat or kitten over 1,000 USD.

As of writing (April 20, 2020), neither Remdesivir nor GS-441524 are available to the average public legally. Remdesivir has been approved for use in humans with COVID-19 in emergency cases.

#work #cat #FIP #long post

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ghstandpucks · 4 years ago

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Cutting Edge ~ Nathan MacKinnon Ch. 6

aHey everyone! I hope you are all doing well and staying safe and healthy! I had fun writing this chapter, though it is kind of a filler to get the story where I want to go. I hope you all enjoy it!

Also shout out to @avsfans95, @pumpkinpatchmakar, and @silkybiscuit for your kind words and tags when you reblog. I love reading them and I’m so glad you guys are enjoying the story!

Let me know what you think and if you would like to be added to the tag list! Thanks!

Prologue Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5

The Avs won the game against the Coyotes 3 to 1, with Nate scoring the final goal for the Avs. You had been standing on the bench between Tyson and J. T. when he scored and almost bounced right off of it in your excitement. Thankfully Tyson was mindful enough to grab your arm and then help you down before you twisted an ankle. When Nate got back to the bench, he gave you a huge smile that made butterflies erupt in your stomach once again. You wanted to run over to him but knew that would not look professional, so you settled on tapping his shoulder pads like you did earlier after Andre had scored. When the game ended, you waited outside the locker room while the team showered and changed. Coach Bednar stepped out of the room to find where you had gone off to, as he thought you would like to accompany him and a few of the players to their post-game interviews. “You did great today Y/N. Nice call with Burkakovsky’s goal,” he complimented you.

“Thanks Coach. I’m glad I was able to help,” you smiled. Bednar smiled and nodded, then looked at you thoughtfully for a minute.

“Just do me a favor and be careful when you stand on the bench. I already have to worry about my players getting hurt, I don’t need to worry about you too,” he chuckled. You laughed and nodded back.

“Of course. I’m sorry if I shouldn’t have done that…” you tried to apologize, but were cut off.

“I didn’t say that. I’m just asking you to be careful is all.” Bednar clarified. “If that’s what you need to do to get your voice out there then go ahead. Gabe has already told the guys to look out for you. You have definitely won them over Coach Y/L/N.” You smiled, and then followed Bednar as he motioned for you to come along to the interviews. When you got there, you stood in the back with him watching Gabe, Andre, and Nate take their seats. They were the three that scored today, so you assumed that’s why they were being interviewed. The questions came at them, from how they thought their team was going to perform this year, how off-season training went, and what they were looking forward to this season. They all answered in a way that left you in awe of the three large men, Gabe obviously charming everyone in sight, both women and men. Then a question came up that you did not expect.

“How is it having a figure skater as a coach?” a male reporter asked with a snicker. You could feel your face flush, slightly unnerved by his tone. You knew there were people opposed to the presence of figure skaters on the team as soon as the idea went public, but you weren’t thinking of the questions that would be asked to the players about it. You also did not miss the way Nate’s eyes shot straight back to you, his jaw becoming slightly tense at the question. Gabe was the first to answer.

“Coach Y/L/N has been a great addition to our team. She is highly skilled and has an eye for details that I think as hockey players we don’t always notice. She is also the reason we first got on the scoreboard today, so we are very thankful to have her.” Gabe stated with no room for interpretation. You smiled thankfully at him and he nodded slightly. Nate relaxed a bit, not realizing how protective he felt over you until that question came up. He could hear Gabe’s words from the game in the back of his mind, and he knew he was screwed.

~ ~ ~

Once back at the hotel, mostly everyone retired to their rooms as the team had an early flight to San Jose for a game the following day. You had showered and changed into a pair of leggings and your Team USA sweatshirt when you heard low voices and a knock on your door. Curious as to who it could be, you looked out the peep hole before swinging the door open laughing at the sight in front of you. Tyson and Cale were standing there with what looked like every potato chip bag they could get out of the vending machine and happy smiles. You looked at them suspiciously. “Can I help you guys?”

“We’re trying to figure out what chips are the best and since there is only two of us we need another judge. And since you are a coach, we figured you might be impartial,” Tyson explained.

“What if I pick a different flavor than either of you?” You asked, leaning on your doorframe.

“Then we all argue but we get to eat the chips in the process,” Cale countered.

“So?” Tyson asked, nodding toward your room. You huffed but giggled, opening your door for the both of them to walk through. Tyson dropped all the chips onto the bed, sitting on the edge while Cale pulled over the desk chair. You leaned against the head board, your knees to your chest and looked at everything they brought. “You know what would be fun, if we Instagram lived this,” Tyson said taking out his phone. You looked at Cale and laugh as he just stared at Tyson.

“I just want to eat the chips,” Cale mumbled.

“You are so weird,” you laughed.

“Coach, be quiet so I can make introductions,” Tyson said back, and you threw a bag of chips at the back of his head as he started talking. “I’m with Cale and our coach, Y/N Y/L/N who is a rude person and just threw a bag of chips at me…Yes she is the Olympic figure skater. She’s not as nice as she seems people, she made Nate skate laps the other day,” he panned his phone toward you and you just shrugged. He kept asking you and Cale questions from the chat as you all passed the bags of chips around, voting on ones you liked better over the others. You were almost in hysterics at Cale throwing a few chips at Tyson over a disagreement on the better flavor when your phone chimed next to you. You opened it to see that Nate had text you.

Nate: Was I not invited? You laughed and went to text him back when another message came in from him. Don’t laugh at me! You looked up and saw that you were in the corner of Tyson’s live feed.

Y/N: Do you feel left out? You teased him.

“Who are you texting Coach? You look all happy,” Tyson called you out.

“It’s none of your business Tyson,” you said, then felt a new bag of chips hit you straight in the face. “You are such a pain in the ass!” you laughed as Tyson faked shock. Cale doubled over as Tyson turned back to his phone.

“I told you people she’s not as nice as she seems!”

“He’s not that great either!” you yelled from your spot on the bed, picking your phone back up.

Y/N: Come save me?

Nate: Burky and I are on our way. Want anything? You smiled again, thankful Tyson and Cale were distracted by the chips and answering random questions.

Y/N: I’m good. No more chips though lol

Around 10 minutes later there was a knock on your door. Cale got up to answer it as he was the closest. You smiled as Nate and Andre walked in. Andre grabbed a bag of chips and sat on the floor while Nate made his way over to you, handing you a Minute Maid pink lemonade. “You remembered,” you said quietly, scooting over so Nate could sit next to you. He gave you a small smile. Of course he remembered you liked pink lemonade, beside water and orange juice it’s the only other thing to drink in your fridge at all times. The guys might give him crap for being unobservant, but he pays more attention to you than anyone knew.

More chips were passed around, no one agreeing on what was better. Eventually Tyson grew tired of Instagram Live and turned it off, but not before a few questions came in as to why you were sitting so close to Nate. You hadn’t thought about it. Sitting cross legged, your right knee was resting on the top of his thigh as his legs were stretched out on the bed. Both of you had grown use to some sort of physical contact when you were around each other that it simply didn’t phase you. Apparently though, some people were too observant for their own good. Knowing Nate was more of a private person though, and not really knowing himself what was going on between the two of you (though he did speculate there had to be something), Tyson fielded the questions by either laughing them off or not acknowledging them.

“You guys, I never want to see a potato chip again,” you whined, leaning into Nate an hour later. It was around midnight at this point and you were ready for bed. Nate chuckled and patted your leg.

“Yeah this wasn’t my smartest idea,” Tyson said, falling back onto the bed.

“Which idea has been?” Andre chirped him. Tyson reached up and grabbed a pillow, nailing Andre with it.

“Hey don’t throw my pillows,” you mumbled, grabbing another pillow and smacking Tyson with it. He went to throw it back at you, but Nate stuck his arm in front of you and got it away from Tyson. Half an hour later the guys all started gathering their trash, mostly because you threatened them with more laps if they left your room dirty. You said goodnight to Tyson, Cale and Andre, walking to the door with Nate following you. As the guys walked out, Nate hung back a second.

“I’ll come by tomorrow morning. I think we’re getting the continental breakfast before heading to the airport,” he said in a low tone, mostly so the guys couldn’t eavesdrop in the hallway. You nodded, vaguely aware that he was taking too long in the room, but also not caring entirely. Would it really be that bad if the team knew something was going on? Nate leaned forward and kissed your cheek, causing your face to turn bright red. “Sleep well Y/N.”

“Goodnight Nate,” you whispered, closing the door behind him. Nate walked out into the hallway to find Tyson casually waiting a few feet away while Andre and Cale were walking. Tyson motioned to the now shut door.

“You and coach?” he asked. Nate kept a straight face and walked past him.

“It’s none of your business,” Nate said, and Tyson’s jaw dropped.

“She was texting you earlier! I thought there was something there. I mean you did bring her hiking with us…” Tyson rambled walking next to Nate.

“Again, it is none of your business,” Nate said, giving Tyson a look that quieted the younger man.

That next morning you had your bags all packed by the time Nate came knocking on your door. He grabbed your hand and you walked to the elevator. Dropping it again before you got out of the elevator, you had breakfast with the team. After eating, everyone loaded onto the bus and headed to the airport. Landing in San Jose that afternoon, the team checked in and everyone went about their own business, getting ready for the game later that night. A short while later you were standing in the tunnel with everyone about to take the ice when you heard a familiar voice. “Is that my little Y/N?” You turned around with a big smile.

“Brian!” You ran over to the bald older man and gave him a hug.

“What about me?” A female popped out from behind him.

“Kristie!” you gave her a hug also. The figure skating coaches for the Sharks started to tell you about their experiences. Yeah, you were good friends with Olympians Brian Boitano and Kristie Yamaguchi. “Wait so are you both coaching tonight? I thought you were taking turns with the team?” you asked them.

“I’m coaching tonight. Kristie is just here,” Brian said.

“Bret and I came to see the game because I wanted to see you,” Kristie filled you in. She was married to former pro hockey player Bret Hedican. “How is everything going for you though? Congrats on the win last night!” You smiled at them.

“Thank you. It’s been good! I’ve been enjoying working with them.”

“Is there a reason why number 29 keeps looking over here to check on you?” Brian asked in a lower tone with a chuckle. You turned around and caught Nate’s eyes, smiling softly and waving him over.

“No. I think they’re just becoming protective of me,” you said off handed. Kristie gave you a knowing look though. She was married to a hockey player after all. Nate walked up beside you, and you introduced him to the two figure skaters. He shook their hands and smiled as you said how much you admired them growing up. After that it was time to get ready to head out of the tunnel, and you said your goodbyes to your friends. But not before Brian turned to Kristie, telling her he needed to try something.

“You’re going down Y/L/N!” he shouted down the hallway. You turned around quickly.

“Bring it Boitano!” Brian laughed and ran back toward you, giving you a high five and running back off to his team. You laughed and turned back toward your team, a few of the guys staring at you.

“Please never do that again Coach. You need to learn how to chirp better,” Tyson teased you. You rolled your eyes dramatically and followed the guys out of the tunnel. It was fun being able to see Brian coach his team during the game. You also saw his horrified face after you stood on the bench for the first time that game. Nothing was wrong though, EJ had put his arm up behind you so you wouldn’t fall. The game ended, 2-1 Avs. During the last period you told Kadri how to switch up his footwork and he scored. You knew how Brian and Kristie skated, so you were able to modify and work around it. Also, the fact that the team trusted you enough to make the changes you suggested made you extremely happy.

After the interviews ended and you had said one last goodbye to Brian and Kristie, you boarded the bus with everyone and headed to the airport. Since the flight wasn’t too long, the team was scheduled for a red eye to get everyone back home to Denver before their home opener in four days. You had settled into your seat after takeoff, earbuds in listening to some music and staring out the window when you felt someone sit next to you. Looking over your shoulder, you saw Nate siting there with his own earbuds in. “It’s too crowded back there,” he said quietly when you took one of your earbuds out. You nodded, and threw the other half of your blanket over his lap. From years of traveling, you always brought a blanket with you. He smiled and grabbed your hand under the blanket, giving it a reassuring squeeze as he reclined the seat a bit and closed his eyes. You could only imagine how tired the team must be. You casually turned back to the window, relaxing into what was left of your two in a half hour flight.

Tags: @bqstqnbruin @avsfans95 @andreiaafaria

#nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl x reader #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #hockey imagine #nathan mackinnon x reader #nathan mackinnon imagine #nate mackinnon x reader #nate mackinnon imagine #Cutting Edge

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sunsetinmyvein · 4 years ago

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You Better Keep Your Mouth Shut

A fic for someone other than Matty? Miraculous, I know. Thanks for adding some diversity to the mix @robinrunsfiction with your request from the prompt list. :P

Why were family events so awkward and stifled? Was it just a prerequisite of getting together with extended family that by default there had to be repeated pleasantries, uncomfortable questions and weird plus ones? Or was that just my family? Thanksgiving was never fun for this exact reason. The food was nice, but having to mentally prepare for at least three days prior for my aunt’s annoying speeches about what she had already accomplished by the time she was my age was not. But it was only once a year. I only had to grin and bear this for just twelve hours, once a year. I could do that. The best bit of this whole weird gathering was that my sister had decided she required a plus one this year. Apparently, she was fed up of the berating from our grandparents about when she was going to get a stable boyfriend, so she had dragged some poor outsider into this mess. However, that outsider happened to be someone that I already knew. Instead of choosing someone from her own social circle (she thought our parents might get suspicious if it was someone that they had already met), she chose someone from mine. Spencer was my best friend, and she had decided to “date” one of his good friends, Ryan.

It was pretty obvious that they weren’t actually dating. They were overdoing it. The constant hand holding, the sappy remarks, the sweet smiles - it was sickening. Anyone who was paying attention would be able to notice that all of this intimacy was entirely surface level. There were no stories about how they met, no retelling of funny dates, no actual kisses exchanged. My family seemed to buy it, but I wasn’t. I knew full well Spencer would’ve told me if Ryan started dating my sister. But it definitely gave the extended family something new to discuss and fuss over. I’d only met this guy a handful of times in passing over the years and he seemed fairly reserved from what I had seen. Spencer usually talked highly of him. But here he was, fake dating my sister and trying to charm a family that wasn’t his own. The whole charade was leaving a bitter taste. My family were shitty to deal with, sure, but it was still pretty underhanded to deceive them like this. I thought better of my sister than to pull a stunt like this, and I thought Spencer kept better friends than this, too. Apparently not.

“What do you do for work, Ryan?” I heard my dad ask as I tuned back in to the dinner conversation.

“Yes, Ross. Enlighten us.” I chimed in, putting my phone down to hear his answer. I had been texting Spencer to ask if he knew about this or not (he didn’t), and to cross check what Ryan was saying. So far, everything he’d said tonight had been a lie. Where his family lived, what he was studying, he was painting the picture of a perfect boyfriend.

“Is there a reason you never say my first name?” He asked with a frown.

“Well, from the brief time that I’ve known you, I just don’t think that we’re familiar enough to be on a first name basis.” I answered with a fake smile.

“He’s your sister’s boyfriend!” My mother chastised.

“Well, he should act more like it then.” I muttered under my breath.

“What?”

“Nothing.” I quickly dismissed. “So?” I asked, turning back to Ryan.

“I’m an intern at a law firm.” He absolutely was fucking not.

“Oh, that’s good!” My uncle beamed. “Must be lining you up for a good paying job?”

“Yeah, I hope so!” The dark-haired boy laughed nervously.

“What firm are you at?” Now this was going to be interesting.

“Uh…” His wide-eyed floundering made it clear that he hadn’t been prepared with details to support his lie. Thankfully, my sister quickly came to his aid and rattled off some firm that she had heard of. Good save.

“That’s a really good place. They’ll set you up well to take care my little niece here.” He said as he placed an affectionate hand on said niece’s shoulder.

“Only the best for my love.” Gross. I needed to get some air or I was going to throw up all my turkey from how soppy that was.

“I need a drink.” I sighed, excusing myself from the table.

Sure enough, as soon as I started pouring something into my glass, Ryan walked into the kitchen too. I couldn’t even get one moment of peace this evening. Great. He wandered aimlessly around the room, opening a few cupboards before turning to me.

“Hey, where’s the-”

“You’re not in love with her, are you?” I interrupted.

“I, uh… Yeah, I am.” He tried his best to defend himself, while also vehemently avoiding my gaze.

“No, you’re not.” I said, shaking my head.

He cleared his throat and glanced at the doorway before speaking, “What makes you say that?”

“I know my sister well enough to see when she’s faking it.” I answered simply.

He let out a long sigh, looking torn about whether or not to admit it. “Look, could you just keep this between us?” He said eventually.

“Why would I? What’s in it for me?” I scoffed as I kept making my drink.

“I dunno. I’ll give you fifty bucks or something.” He said with a shrug.

“You’re trying to bribe me for my silence?” I laughed loudly; Ryan quickly shushed me in response.

“No, I- ugh. What do you want?” He grumbled in frustration. “Can’t you just drop it?”

“Why are you even doing this?” I frowned, dodging his question. “Actually, never mind, do I even want to know?” I added as I placed the tonic water back in the fridge.

“I offered to do it as a favour when she suggested asking someone.” He replied, still looking around the kitchen for whatever he was after.

“You instigated this?” I asked in surprise.

“Yes. To help your sister out.” He said with a nod. Hm. I supposed maybe he wasn’t such an asshole after all. “Got it!” He said, proudly holding a jar of relish as he left the kitchen.

As expected, the silence was short lived. When Ryan left, my mother came in looking like she was on a mission.

“What’ve you got against that boy?” She asked in a stern tone as I poured the gin into my drink.

“I just don’t think he’s good for her, is all.” I answered vaguely.

“Why?” She interrogated. I shrugged, but apparently that answer wasn’t good enough. “Why?” She repeated.

“They don’t seem like they’ll be together long.” I tried my best to dodge her question. She stared at me for a long moment before deciding that was acceptable. And thankfully she dropped the topic before I spoke on it any further.

“Can you bring the pie in with you?” She asked sweetly as she grabbed a stack of dessert plates.

“Sure.” I mumbled as she walked out. Before I even moved to grab the pie, I poured myself a straight shot of the gin. I was going to need something strong to get through this evening.

By the time I finally came back into the room, Ryan was in the middle of regaling some story to try and get my family to like him more. But it was only a matter of time before he put his foot in it. “I was at practice the other day-”

“Practice?” My dad asked in curiosity.

“Band-” He realised what he’d said as soon as the word left his lips. But he’d said it now, there was no taking it back. “Band practice, yeah.” He admitted sheepishly. I saw my uncle share a look with my dad over this new information. A junior lawyer in a band? They were right to be suspicious.

“You’re in a band?” My sister gawked. She didn’t even know he was in a band with Spencer! What, had they exchanged all of five sentences before tonight?

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I could put you on the guestlist one night, if you’d like?” He offered with a smile.

“I’d like that.” I piped up.

“Oh, I… Yeah… Okay.” He stumbled, looking like he hadn’t expected me to take him up on that. Maybe it was the gin going to my head, but I suspected maybe I could have a little fun with this to make tonight a bit more interesting.

The drinks did indeed make things much easier. They also made a lot of this funnier. I watched Ryan and my sister fawning over each other during dessert, and it was no longer gross, now it was just humorous. After my dad cleared away the plates, they were exchanging romantic comments and staring at each other wistfully.

“Gosh, when’s that gonna happen for me?” I asked with a faux dreamy expression.

“Huh?” Ryan asked in confusion.

“When will I land myself a boyfriend like you?” I elaborated.

“Maybe if you had kept your last job you might’ve met someone there.” I heard my aunt say. But her passive aggressive comments weren’t going to sway me this time.

“It’s a shame Ryan isn’t single.” I pouted. Ryan choked on his drink as I said it, instantly spluttering all over the table. He excused himself and ducked to the bathroom, leaving me trying very hard to not break into hysterics. I suspected I hadn’t been too far off the mark when I picked him to be quite shy, because it seemed that legitimate flirting (not fake flirting) was something he couldn’t handle.

It was pretty easy to carry on like that once I got the ball rolling. And by some stroke of dumb luck, my parents saw it as me warming up to Ryan rather than me messing with him. Whenever the night was nearing its end, I kicked Ryan’s shin under the table to catch his attention. He looked over at me with an exasperated expression, obviously fed up of having to tolerate my antics.

I leant in before speaking, making sure I had his full attention, “I really, really want to kiss you right now.” I said quietly.

His eyebrows shot up in shock, his mouth opening and closing a few times while he clearly tried to think of what to respond. “I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic.” He eventually settled on. I just shrugged. “Why would you want to?” He questioned.

“To start drama.” I chuckled.

“Do you do this stuff at all of your family events?” He asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Only the boring ones.” I grinned.

“Remind me to never help your sister out again.” He sighed as he turned back to the conversation happening on the other side of the table.

My fun didn’t last too much longer after that. The sun had well and truly set, and people wanted to get home, which was my cue to leave. I wasn’t going to hang around here longer than I was obligated to. Once everyone had grabbed their leftovers and sorted themselves out, we were left with the awkward goodbyes on the driveway.

“It’s been a great evening.” I said, before grinning in Ryan’s direction.

“It’s been… an evening.” Ryan sighed.

“Aw, you didn’t have fun?” I asked with a laugh.

“Lovely to see you!” My uncle said, cutting my teasing off as he and my aunt exchanged their parting pleasantries.

“We’ll have to do this again sometime.” I said as I opened my car door. Ryan gave me a look like he’d sooner pass out before stepping foot into this house again.

#Ryan Ross x Reader #Sunsetinmyvein #Sunsetinmyvein prompts #Sunsetinmyvein requests

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1kook · 5 years ago

Text

netflix & chill

summary If you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality. warnings grinding, 2 seconds of sub kook, oral (f), cum eating, vanilla but [ passionate ], unprotected sex, dirty talk tags use of the oldest trick in the book (“your hands are sooo big”), shy oblivious AND gentleman jk? pick a struggle, brief ment of app developer kook, evil and conniving oc wc 10.2k !! wow!!

will I ever write a serious jk fic? NO. this entire thing was based off this pic of jungkook which i’ve said before that i would print out in sepia filter and crumple and stuff in a drawer n then tell my kids 35 years from now was a long lost lover i met on a cruise to the bahamas and never saw again ty to mia more @daechwlta for being there during my brief crisis over this fic 🥺

When Namjoon had first not so subtly mentioned the idea of setting you up on a date, it was with a faux air of disinterest that you had masterfully pried the details out of him. Namjoon has a friend, he said, a friend who was kinda sorta attached to his hip. And while Namjoon loved the kid, he also thought this friend could use some social interaction outside of Namjoon.

Now you and Namjoon weren’t exactly the most conventional of friends for him to be proposing blind dates to you at whim. He was your senior at school, your mentor in your scholarship program, an educated man studying for his masters. So when he’d first uttered the words you were immediately on the fence. Sure, the two of you knew each other well and probably got along better than most mentor-mentee pairings among your year, but you doubt Namjoon knew enough of your tastes to offer you up for a blind date.

According to Namjoon, his friend was a kid in the same year as you, making him not so much as a kid as he was your classmate. You brushed it off at first, spewing some bullshit excuse that you’d rather focus on your studies, and how dating was a distraction to your education, as if you hadn’t spent the weekend prior binge watching some Spanish novella while you dutifully ignored your essay.

The second time Namjoon mentions it you agree on the spot. Life on campus could only be interesting for so long, so you might as well make the best of it and go on as many stupid dates as possible.

Namjoon is over the moon.

He tells you he’ll pass your phone number on over to that friend of his—“Jeon Jungkook”—and promises you you won’t regret this because his friend was amazing, really. And for Namjoon to sing his praises for just any underclassmen was unheard of. In fact, besides you, you don’t think Namjoon knows many other students younger than him, and if he did, you hardly doubt he would regard them so highly.

So he gives his friend your number, and so ends your weekly meeting with your mentor. You only realize on the walk back to your dorm that you forgot to ask him about some club at school, the whole goal of this week’s meeting, but by then you don’t really care, the whole conversation fading into the background.

In fact, you forget about the whole ordeal until Friday night rolls around and you’re once again, binge watching another novella on your laptop, when your phone suddenly vibrates.

You were by no means a loser at school, a friendless nobody, but you were also not the outgoing, school-spirited student on the front page of your school’s website, and thus had nearly every app that could produce a notification on your phone muted, every text thread silenced. The only notifications and messages you allowed were from your email and from your roommate, and considering the fact Doyeon was face down in a puddle of her own mid-semester tears right across from you, it was probably your email.

Much to your surprises, it isn’t that “Monday’s Class is CANCELLED” email you were hoping for, but instead some unknown number in a text notification. You roll your eyes, click it open thinking it’s a reminder from some store or from some guy claiming to be from your bank, only to pause at the words written inside the little grey bubble.

hey its jungkook!!! joon gave me your number to I guess ask you on a date soo are you free tmrw night??

The excessive punctuation reminds you a little bit of your kid sister back home and the dorky emails she’ll send you from time to time. It’s with that memory and a smile on your face, that you’re suddenly reminded of what exactly this message is saying. “Oh shit,” you mumble, moving to sit up and reread the text. Doyeon complaining loudly in the background has you reading it twice more before you understand it, and by then there’s a fluttery feeling in your chest.

You were by no means easily swayed by people, but this guy had received praise from Kim Namjoon of all people, so he definitely had some prestige to his name. He doesn’t seem overbearing from this one text he’d sent, but he also didn’t seem completely disinterested.

You try to match his nonchalant energy, letting him know you were in fact free and down to meet him, just to let you know more details.

You won’t lie, there’s a giddy feeling bubbling within you at the prospect of getting all dolled up, hitting the town, pawning a free meal off some unsuspecting college soul, and maybe even hitting it off. It’s been a while since you’ve dated, sue you.

Jeon Jungkook’s response crushes those dreams as well as hurdles you straight into a nightmare.

cool!! was thinking i could cook for us at my place, drink a little wine, maybe Netflix and chill a little bit??

You are blown away by the absolute gall of this man, to butter you up by painting a pretty picture only to reduce you to a mere booty call. The fact he had felt confident enough to say all that within the same sentence blows your mind.

Did this Jeon Jungkook, who you had no idea of what he looked like, who had no idea of what you looked like, seriously just invite you over for some quote unquote Netflix and chill?

Who, in the ever living hell, was this guy who so sleazily invited women over to fuck with no qualms about who they were?

You’re offended that Namjoon would set you up like this, pawn you off to such a greasy friend. But then again, you guess not everyone knows their friends thoroughly, because this Jeon Jungkook flirtatiously inviting your over for some sex sounds nothing like the golden boy Kim Namjoon had raved about earlier this week. You click your phone off, tapping the device against your lips as you ponder how to best rip this jerk to shreds via text.

It’s amidst Doyeon cursing out her statistics teacher that an idea hits you.

Tomorrow was Saturday night, and as far as you knew, you really didn’t have anything else going on for you anyway. You’d take Jeon Jungkook’s offer, let him cook you a free meal and drink some of his wine. He mentioned having his own place, and vaguely you remember Namjoon saying he lived alone, hence his introverted tendencies, so you could slip in and out without doing that walk of shame through a boy’s dorm hall.

Not that there would be anything to feel shameful about. In fact, if you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality.

Ha! That would certainly teach the asshole not to use his poor, unsuspecting friends to reel in nice girls like you into one night stands.

You could practically feel the devil horns begging to poke out of your skull, the forked tail wiggling behind you, as you click your phone back on and text Jeon Jungkook a great!! what’s your address :)

——

Saturday morning and afternoon are as boring as they usually are. You do a little homework, and spend thirty minutes filling Doyeon in on your master plan, which she eats up and even gives you some pointers—“and then you can be like, ‘you sick freak, as if I’d let you near this 5-star, Michelin reviewed, Gordon Ramsey approved coochie’ and throw the whole plate at his head!”—before getting ready for your little date at Jeon Jungkook’s.

You try hard to look good, harder than you would have if he hadn’t offended you by reducing you to a booty call, and Doyeon helps. She does your eyebrows all nice and natural, dusts the thinnest shin of liquid highlighter across the high points of your face, the whole shebang until you’re looking like a sexy, glowing goddess. You shimmy into a pretty dress, nothing too fancy nor too casual, and even pull on those strappy sandals you’d bought on sale last winter before blowing a kiss to Doyeon and meeting your Uber downstairs.

You don’t quite remember what the reason behind Jeon Jungkook living in such a swanky neighborhood a few minutes from campus was, if it was from a job you vaguely recall Namjoon mentioning, or if it was just purely hereditary, but his place is nice. It’s a connected townhouse, something you’d expect a newly wed couple to live in and not some douchebag third year.

Worse comes to worse, you get banned from this rich neighborhood after humiliating one of its residents in his own home, not that you’d ever make it big enough to live here anyway.

You’d texted Namjoon sometime that morning to let him know you were meeting his friend, an ominous text with an even more ominous smiley face attached to it. But it seems Namjoon is easily blinded by underclassmen he trusts, if Jeon Jungkook’s assholish feats and your own suspicious behavior is anything to go by, because he texts you back a polite have fun! he’s a little shy, so it might take a while for the ball to start rolling hahahaha.

Shy my ass, you think closing the door of your Uber behind you. You double check the address that had been texted to you, walking up to the neat townhouse and knocking against the polished door.

It’s a little chilly, and you hope finding an Uber is easier later tonight when you make your grand escape. It’s between these thoughts that the door swings open, revealing the most handsome man you’ve ever met.

He’s attractive, disgustingly so, with dark hair and light brown tips to contrast, tickling his cheekbones. His dark eyes are round and imploring as they meet yours, gaze almost innocent and doe like as he takes you in. He’s got this soft, blue turtleneck on, and it looks like it should be a seasonal sweater reserved for the holidays but he pulls it off nicely on this premature spring night. His pretty pink lips move, and it takes you a second to realize he’s talking.

“___?” He says, and his voice is deep, yet soft in its own unique way. You nod, like a stupid bobble head, because your throat constricted the moment this beautiful angel opened the door. “It’s cold outside, come in!” He urges you, out stretching his palm to make sure you don’t trip over the slight step up the door as he brings you into his home.

“Hi,” he exhales when you’re finally inside, standing a little too close to you in his small entryway.

“Hi,” you finally choke out, a little dazed by how handsome he is, and the sudden realization that you’re supposed to throw your glass of wine at him tonight because he’s a douchebag dawns on you. You blink yourself out of your stupor, taking a step back and gesturing towards your sandal clad feet.

“Oh!” Jeon Jungkook exclaims at the sudden realization. “I forgot to set out a pair of slippers for you,” he sheepishly admits, before he excuses himself to go get some. There’s a tiny ottoman pushed against the wall, beneath a long mirror, that you take a seat on it, carefully unstrapping your sandals.

All the while, you’re deep in thought.

It makes sense that someone like Jeon Jungkook was so forward in inviting you over for sex during your first interaction. Realistically speaking, the guy had it all. He lived alone in a swanky townhouse in a wealthy neighborhood (you finally remember Namjoon saying he did some app developing for major companies—yeah, still in college but already making it big because he was that good), and looked like the blueprint for the perfect man, someone who’d impress your parents. On top of that, the man was was a 21st century Adonis. You hadn’t missed the flash of ink on his knuckles, or the way his jeans had hugged his legs.

He’s making his way back now, inspecting the slippers in his hands, and you don’t miss the way the jeans are pulled taut around his thighs in particular.

Yeah, he definitely knew his way around a woman’s body, there was no way he couldn’t have.

You slip your feet into the slippers he places before you, wiggling your toes around, before glancing back at Jungkook. He smiles warmly, a little beauty mark beneath his lip making itself known. He takes your hand, pulls you up onto your feet, and begins guiding you down the hall and to what you assume is the kitchen.

“I didn’t know what you liked, and I figured asking you three hours before you came over would be too awkward,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. He glances at you again, and upon seeing your inquisitive stare, quickly turns away with flushed cheeks.

Oh this man knew the game, and he knew it well.

Jeon Jungkook still thinks he can play that cute campus boy being set up by his senior card now, after he’d shown you his true colors last night via text. But he has a big storm coming. As much as you could admit he was good to look at, you would not be fooled by some pretty face and tasty food. No, you came here with one goal and one goal only, and that was to give Jeon Jungkook a piece of his own two-faced medicine before running off to tattle to Namjoon.

You reach the kitchen and the heavenly smell of Alfredo sauce swarms your nostrils. “I… I’m still new to cooking, so I hope you don’t mind some Alfredo pasta,” he admits, shy smile adorning his features as he avoids your gaze once again to toy with the dish towel by the sink.

You creep closer to the counter, where two meticulously presented ceramic plates sit beside a wine bottle, and the glands in your mouth suddenly go into overdrive in their rush to make you salivate, and you choke out an overly eager, “it looks amazing!” before you know it.

Okay, you came here with two goals.

——

Jungkook carries the two bowls in his big hands to the dining room beside the kitchen, and you follow behind with the bottle of wine and two glasses as you set the table together. The utensils are already there, but Jungkook runs back into the kitchen anyway to return with some fancy cloth napkins for the two of you.

Just as you're tugging a chair out to sit, Jungkook beats you to it. “Ah, let me,” he smiles, and your heart thunders nervously in your chest as you return the expression, brushing your hands beneath you before sitting down and letting him push you in. Jungkook takes his own seat in front of you, and before you can dig in he calls out to seemingly nobody, “Alexa, dim the dining room lights.”

The overhead lights dim, and with their overbearing glow gone, you can finally appreciate the battery powered candles snuggled neatly into a little bowl on the table between you two. You ooh appreciatively, and Jungkook looks proud of himself.

Then, he says, “Alexa, play…Date Night Playlist.”

You blink, and a soft piano tune begins filtering through a speaker he’s hidden somewhere in the room. Even with the fake candles being your main source of light, the flush on Jungkook’s cheeks is evident as he gestures towards you to eat.

You won’t lie. Jeon Jungkook was extremely endearing.

This much becomes evident the further you get into the meal. As small talk devolves into full fledged conversations and story telling, his shy demeanor slipping away but still sticking to the edges of his personality, you begin to have a more difficult time connecting this Jungkook to the one who had less than 24 hours ago asked you to come over and “Netflix and chill” with him.

But the more you speak, the more distant that image begins to feel. For one, Jungkook does put on a fairly reserved aura for you, telling you about his job but refusing to brag about it even when you egg him on. He has no qualms gassing up his friends, Namjoon in particular, who Jungkook claims is his role model for some unknown reason, given the fact they are neither in the same major nor in any of the same clubs. They’re friends, point blank period, but Namjoon is very obviously a star in Jungkook’s eyes.

Additionally, he’s quite embarrassed to admit why Namjoon had been so set on getting Jungkook to date, but eventually tells you it’s because Jungkook’s last girlfriend had been during your freshman year—two whole years ago! It makes you wonder what he’d been doing since then, if he’d used the time to fully invest in his work or if he’d been mingling around, unbeknownst to his friends, which would explain the flirtatious offer that landed you here.

Still, a part of you refuses to believe last night’s Jungkook and tonight’s Jungkook were one in the same, and if they were, what had made this shy man so unabashedly invite you over for some sex. Was this act all a ploy? Or maybe, was he purposefully trying to ward you away by coming off as a gentleman now that he’d seen your face and wasn’t interested in you anymore?

Apparently it’s neither of the two, and you don’t realize this until you finish your meal and make your way into his living room to finally get down to the long awaited Netflix and chilling. It’s only when you sit down on the couch, smack dab in the middle, because at this point, you’re not gonna throw your wine at Jeon Jungkook like you planned, he was too nice. And if this niceness was an act to get in your panties, you didn’t care at this point. He was hot, achingly so, and at least you’d get a good fuck out of it.

But as you said, apparently not. Because Jeon Jungkook sees you purposefully take up the entire middle of the couch, sultry eyes staring him down, and decides to sit flush against the armrest, somehow leaving a good foot between the two of you, despite the fact you’re sitting next to each other.

Your brain can’t work fast enough to comprehend the situation, before he’s asking you what you want to watch. “Um,” you say, pointedly staring at him and not the screen. “Tr-Transformers?”

The way Jungkook’s eyes light up is insane, already round eyes nearly popping out of their sockets as he eagerly rushes to select it from whatever streaming service he has, probably not even Netflix, all the while chattering on about how much he loves that series, and is so glad you do too.

The whole time, you’re struck by the oddness of his casual tone, the way he’s overly invested in the 20th Century Fox opening, and how he’s very carefully avoiding intruding in on your personal space.

The last point in particular has you wanting to pull your hair out, because you want Jeon Jungkook intruding in on your personal space. You want him pressed so tightly against you you can’t breathe, you can’t move, until you’re drowning in him as he finally lives up to his promise of some Netflix and chill, because you want him, and you want him so. very. bad.

“Oh, I forgot the popcorn!” Jungkook exclaims, and you jump at the sudden volume of his voice, because he’d been pretty silent as he avidly watched the first few minutes of the movie. “Sorry,” he chuckles, and his leg brushes against yours as he shuffles between you and the coffee table on his way out. You vaguely hear the popping of the popcorn in the kitchen, but you’re too distracted by your suddenly overwhelming thoughts.

Okay, one thing was for sure, and that was that Jeon Jungkook definitely had no fucking idea what the phrase Netflix and chill meant, because the way he’d zeroed in on the movie and the popcorn, and not you, was unheard of on such invitations. You deduce he probably heard it somewhere, and, now understanding the true nature of Jungkook’s sweet and shy personality, made no such perverted connection to the phrase.

Which meant he most definitely did not demean you to a mere booty call, like you’d deluded yourself into believing, someone he could hump and dump with no regrets, before calling Namjoon up to thank him. Which meant he’d had no ulterior motives in meeting you tonight, just planning to get to know you at the suggestion of his friend, and had—unbeknownst to him—successfully wooed you thus far.

Which was great! If you turned a blind eye to the evil, conniving plans you’d made without even meeting the guy, and the subsequent flood of self-inflicted disapproval when you realized Jeon Jungkook was a sweetheart who definitely did not deserve having a glass of wine thrown at his face after making you a home cooked meal and giving you the full Olive Garden experience, with his dimmed lights and candlelit dinner and piano music on the background.

Yeah. Perfectly fine.

The only problem now was that you had become so dangerously smitten with the man that you wanted to sleep with him. You wanted that Netflix and chill, needed it like it was the last slot in a daycare class and you were a soccer mom of five wanting to get at least one kid out of the house for the summer for the sake of her own sanity. You were desperate.

No, you scold yourself. This was fine, this was good, this was perfectly okay. If anything, this just further made you enamored with Jungkook, because it proved how gentlemanly he was by not trying to sleep with you on the first date.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to, the devil on your shoulder crooned.

The microwave in the kitchen stops, and you hear the sound of cabinets opening as Jungkook pours the popcorn into a bowl. On screen, the main character is meeting a bunch of giant cars-turned-robots, you don’t fucking know.

But the devil was right.

Jungkook hadn’t offered to sleep with you, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to. Furthermore, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be seduced into wanting to, your evil brain suggested, and the hope that had slithered it’s way into your chest from the very moment Jungkook had opened the door, took that fact and ran with it.

“What’d I miss?” Jungkook says when he returns, popcorn bowl in hand.

“Oh, um, he was with the car,” you offer, trying to stop the nefarious smirk from slipping onto your features. Jungkook laughs, cute and airy as he shuffles past you.

He’s too absorbed in the screen, not looking as he sits down, closer than last time until his thigh brushes yours and he jerks back in embarrassment. “Oh, sorry,” he flounders, goes to move away but you act fast.

You grab onto his upper arm with both of yours like an octopus, keeping him flush to you as you gaze up at him with wide eyes. “No, it’s okay,” you rush to assure him, loosening your hold as he tentatively relaxes beside you. You glance down at the popcorn bowl in his hand, swiping a piece to pop between your lips. “It’s easier for us this way,” you say, and you’re pulling that straight out of your ass, because you hate popcorn and have literally zero desire for it and wouldn’t have reached for it anyway if you weren’t trying to convince him this was all for popcorn sharing purposes.

Jungkook’s eyes briefly flicker down to where you’re munching on that popcorn, your lips, before he’s quickly averting his gaze. “Ah, y-yeah,” he agrees, and though he tries to relax back into the couch, you can still feel the tension of his muscles as he settles beside you.

With his eyes no longer trained on you, you snuggle closer into his side resting your cheek against the soft material covering his shoulder, finally letting that devious smirk slip onto your face. You keep yourself close to Jungkook, loving the way his warmth permeates the thick sweater he’s wearing, even if he’s still overly into the movie. You know he’s seen it before, because he keeps telling you random tidbits like, “they use this in the next movie!” Or “he ends up becoming really important in the sixth movie,” and you want to listen to this endearing nerd’s commentary, you really do, but once your brain is stuck on horny, it is stuck on horny.

He doesn’t even eat a lot of popcorn, setting it down not ten minutes later onto the coffee table. You release him as he moves forward, but quickly latch onto him again when he sits back down.

Much to your surprise, Jungkook is way more relaxed then, shrugging you off to rest his hand on the couch behind you, and you inwardly squeal at the prospect of getting to cuddle up to his body, and not just his arm. You cuddle in close to him, leaving your slippers on the ground as you tuck your legs up onto the couch cushions.

Jungkook is so warm and firm, and you know it’s your horny brain speaking, but you swear you feel a tight set of abs underneath the palm you rest on his stomach, and you give an experimental brush over the area. His heart picks up, you hear it by where your head is leaning against his chest, and you tilt your head up to give him a curious glance. His cheeks are red, and he doesn’t look at you even though you know he sees you, so you decide to kick things up a notch.

You sigh loudly, peeling yourself away from him to properly level him with a pout. “Jungkook, aren’t you hot in this?” You ask, pinching the wooly material between two fingers and pulling it from his skin. Jungkook finally looks away from the screen, nibbling his lower lip as he takes in your quizzical expression.

“Um, only a little… but it’s fine!” He rushes to say, and you recall from your conversations over dinner that Jungkook doesn’t much like people fussing over him, so you quickly change gears.

You press a hand against your cheek, the same one that had been resting against his shoulder earlier. “Oh, well… it’s really itchy,” you announce, and his eyes widen, one hand absentmindedly reaching to clutch the material at his chest. “It’s making me really itchy,” you emphasize, and part of you feels bad for taking advantage of his caring nature, but this is all for the greater good, you convince yourself. “Do you mind taking it off?”

“I, uh, yeah,” he agrees, reaching for the hem of his sweater before carefully peeling it off. When he pulls it over his head, you can’t help the triumphant grin that overtakes your face, though you quickly mask it when he finally frees himself from the material. “Better?” He says once he’s clad in only a plain black shirt.

“Mm, much,” you sigh, and nearly soak your panties then and there when a tattooed sleeve comes into view. “Woah!” You exclaim, snatching his wrists up to examine his skin. “What’s this?” You marvel, tracing every inch of delicious skin with your predatory gaze. Jungkook huffs out a laugh, and you glance up to watch as he rubs the back of his neck in that same embarrassed way he’d done multiple times throughout your night together.

“My tattoos,” he says, and then seems to realize the simplicity of his statement and rushes to add to it, “I hope you don’t mind?”

You hum, shifting onto your knees to face him as you continue tracing over a huge tiger lily by his forearm. “Why would I? It’s your body,” you say, and watch the nervous glance melt off his face as he regards you with something new. Something akin to wonder as he lets you trace over more of his ink, nodding along to your words.

“Yeah… yeah!” He agrees, and you grin at his sudden zeal. He chuckles, physically relaxing beneath your touch, and it’s probably the most relaxed he’s been all night as you continue rubbing your hands over every tattoo on his skin, and then purposefully focusing on the ones near his bicep. “Sorry, ‘m just used to people pushing off their own opinions about them onto me,” he explains, and for a moment, the horniness that had been fueling you all night fades away, and you let your hands trail down, past his wrist, until you’re sandwiching his hand between yours.

“Fuck what anyone else thinks,” you tell him, eyes hard as you imagine anyone imposing their stupid thoughts on Jungkook, who was too good for this world. “If you think they’re cool, then they're the coolest thing in the world.”

He smiles at you, and you’ve seen this smile about a million times tonight—when you first came in, when you talked about yourself at dinner, when you mentioned this stupid movie—but it has something swelling in your chest. Something too intimate for a first date, so you quickly move to repress it.

Glancing down at his hand in yours, littered with smaller tattoos across his knuckles, your brain whirls into action. Bringing it up between the two of you, you turn his hand over to line your palms up. “Wow, your hands are so big,” you sigh, slowly reverting back to dirty thoughts as you twist yours and Jungkook’s hands this way and that. He snorts, bends the tips of his fingers over yours just to hear you ooooh again.

“Yeah, they’re pretty big,” he agrees, completely ignoring the film playing on the screen, which is a huge win in your eyes considering how deeply he’d been watching it earlier.

Finally, you see an opening and pounce.

“Well, that means something else is pretty big too,” you murmur, chancing a glance up at his face. His face is the perfect definition of composed, and you can tell when exactly he processes your words because those little pink lips part in surprise, red slowly filling the apples of his cheeks. You let go of his palm, letting it slide between your fingers until it falls limp beside him.

Jungkook watches you with wide eyes, as you raise yourself up onto your knees. “Jungkook?” You mumble, giving him no warning before you’re throwing a leg across his lap, knees pressed into the couch on either side of his thighs.

“Y-Yes?” He stutters, brown hair falling away from his face as he stares up at you. You flash him a sweet smile, and you can tell it relaxes him because his fists unclench beside him.

“You’re a really nice boy,” you sigh, and when you’ve scooted your knees a little closer to his ridiculously thin waist, you finally let yourself sit. You find yourself right before his crotch, which he desperately tries to hide as he shifts around, but can’t with you on top of him. You let your hands flutter to rest at his shoulders, and he gulps. “You’re so sweet and cute,” you add, relish in the flush that climbs up to his ears. “But I’m a little sad you invited me over to Netflix and chill, but won’t do just that,” you pout, a finger tangling itself in a soft strand at the back of his head.

“Huh?” He stutters, eyes nearly bulging out when you wiggle around again. “I-I’m sorry?” He huffs, and when you move too close to his crotch, where his jeans are slowly growing more and more strained, he panics and reaches a hand out to steady your waist.

You feign confusion, flashing him another pout as you duck closer until your noses bump against each other. “You know what it means, don’t you, Jungkook?” You inquire, eyes falling dangerously lidded as you swallow up every inch of his appearances.

He stutters, hands moving up and down as if he doesn’t know where to put them anymore. But you know exactly where Jungkook can put those hands, and you waste no time catching his wrists in your hands to guide him towards your hips. “No?” He breathes, fingers flexing against you, and you smile sweetly at him.

“It means,” you purr, shifting forward until you’re flush against where you need him most. You can barely contain the whimper that climbs out of your throat when you finally feel the rough material of his jeans against your panties. “It means you wanna fuck, Jungkook,” you exhale, tossing your head back as your body basks in the slight reprieve, the way Jungkook squirms beneath you aiding greatly in providing that sensation you craved.

“It’s nothing more than an excuse,” you huff, placing a hand on the back of his neck to steady yourself. At your touch, Jungkook jolts, thighs jumping beneath you and you stifle another groan when the zipper of his jeans prods against your core. “For you to fuck my brains out while some s-stupid movie plays in the background.”

You’re not sure when, but sometime during that last explanation your hands had fully delved into the thick tresses of Jungkook’s hair. You give an experimental tug, and poor Jungkook, so lost in all that you’re telling him, lolls his head back for you easily until the long expanse of his neck is available, soft creamy skin yours for the taking.

You pounce, kissing the skin gently at first, before sprinkling in a handful of nibbles. He’s sensitive, devastatingly so, as he gasps at a particular suck. You suction your lips on the spot below his ear, carefully biting down on the skin as he unravels beneath you. “Will you do it, Jungkookie?” You murmur against the shell of his ear,

He nods eagerly, and his fingers hurt where he’s pressed them deep into your waist, like he’s trying to brand you as his with his mere strength alone. “Y-Yes,” he exhales, hips jerking when you swipe your tongue over the pretty mark you’d left on his perfect skin.

You smother your smirk against his neck, grinding down on him once again. “Yes what?” You tease, and let his strong hands roll you against him afterwards.

“Yes, I-I’ll…” he stumbles, eyes dazed as he watches you through hooded lids. You raise a brow at him, shifting in his lap. It’s enough to kickstart him back up, and he’s biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. “I’ll fuck you, I’ll fuck you just like you want,” he rambles. He surprises you when he begins rutting up against you, so animalistic and uncontrolled, nothing like the sweet Jungkook that had indulged you over dinner. “I’ll make you come, p-promise,” he rasps.

You smirk down at him, hoping he doesn’t see the metaphorical horns sticking out of your head the further he falls into your trap. Before he can say anything else, you surge forward, slotting your mouths together for the first time that night.

It’s no surprise that Jungkook kisses just like he speaks, carefully like he’s afraid one hard press of his lips will ward you off. His lips are smooth, a fact you’d hyper-fixated on all night as he spoke, but before you can ponder on that any further, something hot and wet is prodding at your lower lip.

The gasp you barely manage to contain ends up escaping anyway when Jungkook’s hand comes up to cup the side of your face, tilting your head to the side as his tongue slithers into your mouth. You become obsessed with the way he touches you, every bit the gentlemen he’d been all night, fingers just barely pressing into your cheek like he doesn’t want to mess up your makeup. His other hand, snuggly wrapped around your waist, pulls you tighter against him until your chests are pressed together.

And that tongue. That tongue of his that leaves no room for argument, quickly shutting down any attempts of yours to overtake him. He’s graceful about it too, one nudge enough to convince you he’s got this, he’ll take care of you. You whimper, a sound Jungkook swallows before he’s biting down on your lower lip.

When he pulls away, his lips are red and glossy, and you wonder if yours are too. “Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he sighs, gazing at you like he can’t believe you’re there in front of him.

Before you can say anything else, he’s burying his face in the crook of your neck to brush kisses over your skin. “Let me eat you out,” he begs, but his voice is so silky and smooth that it doesn’t sound so much as a plea as much as it does a suggestion. He licks a stripe up your neck, and you jump in his hold.

It’s at this moment where the sudden realization hits you, the feeling of having the reins yanked out of your hands. You so vividly controlled every aspect of Jungkook just a few moments ago, when you’d had your own mouth on his neck, and carefully coaxed him into some sex.

But it seems Jeon Jungkook isn’t as soft or as pliable as you had dubbed him to be, and if the way he’s begun subtly rolling your hips into his crotch is any sign, he certainly wasn’t the submissive type either. Which leaves you wondering, exactly what type of person was Jungkook in bed?

Well, you had all night to figure that out.

“Hey,” he whines suddenly, ripping you out of your thoughts. You glance down at him, registering the bored set of his eyes and the unimpressed quirk of his lips. “Pay attention to me.”

You blink, lips twitching. You can barely muffle the giggle that tears itself from your throat, leaning your forehead on his shoulder as your body shakes at his suddenly childish words. Jungkook chuckles too, as if suddenly realizing how out of place his own statement was. “Sorry,” he smiles, cheeks pleasantly rosy and you can’t even stop yourself from kissing him silly.

Jungkook, bless his heart, let’s you rain down a good three kisses on him before he’s pushing you down on the couch beside him. There’s still a slight gleam in his eyes, but the rest of his face schools itself into a hungry expression as he drinks in your body laid out before him. “Let me eat you out?” He asks again, voice but a soft whisper.

You nod, heart beating loudly in your chest as he shuffles down until he can press a kiss to the tops of your thighs. He hasn’t even done anything that intense yet, but you already feel the muscles in your leg ready to spasm just from his proximity.

He’s mouthing at your skin, nudging your legs apart, and you, usually so confident in your sexuality, can’t find the courage to look at him as he so lovingly carries out his ministrations.

As if sensing your sudden bout of shyness (you! shy! Doyeon was gonna tease you about this for the rest of your life once you recapped this for her), he places a soft kiss just below where the hem of your dress begins, before pulling back and uttering, “this okay?”

You hum in response, face warm from just imagining how good he must look down there, peppering your skin with kisses. Your heart nearly rips itself out of your chest when a strong set of fingers wraps around your wrist suddenly, sliding over and around your hand until he’s tangled them with yours.

At this, you nearly break your neck trying to look at him, only to be met with an amused smile. Jungkook gives your hand a squeeze, and you barely get to appreciate the schoolgirl flood of emotions in your chest, when suddenly his free hand comes out of left field, cupping the back of your knee to push your legs further apart, before gliding across the expanse of your thigh to push your dress up.

If Jungkook holding your hand was enough to make your heart skip a beat, Jungkook pressing a chaste kiss to your panty-clad mound was enough to send you into cardiac arrest. Your leg twitches at the sudden touch, a gasp catching in your throat at the delicate path he kisses over your panties, until he’s flicking his tongue over your clit. “Oh,” you moan, and against your better judgment, your free hand is tangling itself in his silky strands.

Jungkook smirks, what sounds like a tiny chuckle muffled as he continues mouthing along your sex, until your panties are soaked both from your arousal and his saliva. Your little thong stares him in the face, and he groans at the sight, glancing up at you with those wide eyes of his like you’re his entire world. “Can I?”

Jungkook gives your clit one final kiss, before he lets go of your hand, and you can’t help the whine that leaves you upon the lost contact. Jungkook eats it up, pressing a kiss turned smile against your knee as he tugs your underwear down. It coils up as it goes, until he’s pulling a tightly twisted maroon thong off your ankles, and tossing it off somewhere behind him.

If his mouth felt good through your panties, it feels even better without. You mewl when he brushes his lips over your clit, plush lips working your sensitive bundle of nerves, sly tongue occasionally creeping out to toy with you further. “Jungkook,” you cry out, back arching. He licks and slurps likes he’s a starved man, and you're the first meal he’s ever had. You want to sob from how good it feels, his tongue flicking over your bud like he just can’t get enough.

He pulls away to catch your gaze, doesn’t let it go as he runs a lone finger over your slit, coating the digit in your own arousal, before carefully plunging it into your warm, wet heat. “Is this good?” He rasps out, watching your facial expressions carefully as he wiggles his finger deeper into your core, his other hand wrapped around your thigh to keep you still. You moan, feeling like a boneless heap of organs beneath this insanely handsome man who can’t keep his hands off your quivering pussy.

His fingers don’t let up, slowly pulling out before plunging back in. The room fills with disgustingly wet sounds, but that fact drifts to the back of your head the faster his fingers go. Your eyes roll into your head, your body twitching with each press of his fingers.

“Is it good, pretty?” He repeats, and since you’re not looking at him anymore, the sudden lick against your clit has your back arching and your thighs quivering with surprise. “Tell me it’s good, ___,” Jungkook croons, and you nod in a hurry.

“It’s good!” You cry, moaning loudly when he slips another finger into you, scissoring the two inside of you. “It’s so good, Jungkook—y-you’re so good,” you moan, and nearly cry actual tears when he curls his fingers inside of you, pressing down against the most sensitive spot within you.

Jungkook doesn’t let up, continues licking and slurping against your sensitive bud, even when your orgasm hits and you’re begging him to stop. He doesn’t let you go until he feels the warmth coat his fingers, feels the wetness begging to seep out of your plugged pussy. He lets you go then, only to move closer to your hole and replace his fingers with his mouth. There, he carefully catches and collects the cum that trickles out, mouth warm against your trembling body.

Your body quivers with each long drag of his tongue over your sensitive cunt, and you’re about to ask him to stop, when he finally pulls away and pushes himself over you, arms caging you in as he stares down at your withered form. “Kiss,” you manage to gasp out, and Jungkook raises an eyebrow in question. “Kiss me,” you repeat, and then, thoughtfully, “please.”

Jungkook complies, leans down to connect your mouths in a sweet kiss. You’re blinded by the delicacy of it all, that you in no way see coming the sudden substance that slides down your throat from his own. You choke at the sudden intrusion, belatedly realizing it’s your cum he’s pushing down your throat, the cum he didn’t swallow.

“That’s it, pretty,” Jungkook croons, licking up the residual come that hadn’t made it into your mouth. “See how you taste for me. Isn’t it sweet?” He murmurs, pushing his tongue into your mouth as if he regretted not saving any for himself. It’s the first time you’ve had your own pleasure in your mouth, so you’re not exactly sure how to feel. What you do feel is the overwhelming surge of arousal at seeing Jungkook rave about it and lap it up inside your own mouth.

He kisses you for a few moments, mouth moving languidly along yours. One hand reaches down to rub soothingly at your inner thigh, like he’s coaxing the feeling back into your body after lulling you into one of the most heavenly orgasms of your entire life. You whimper when he bites down on your lower lip, like you’re still too sensitive to reciprocate, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. He lets you go, licks over where he’d bitten like an apology.

After a few minutes of just this, of feeling like the most cherished girl in the entire world, Jungkook finally pulls away and levels you with a dashing smile. “All good?” He asks, hands still trailing up your waist until they’re framing the swell of your breasts, where he gently circles your nipple.

You nod, dazedly staring up at him and it’s at this exact moment that you realize there’s something stiff poking at your hip. You glance down, and Jungkook glances down with you, until you’re both staring at the hard on he’s hiding beneath his jeans. Jungkook chuckles, low and dark by your ear as he experimentally presses it against you.

Before you can stop yourself, your hand is untangling itself from around his shoulders and slithering down his front. You cup his erection, his shaky exhale giving you the courage to toy with his belt buckle until it’s undone and you're battling with the button on his jeans instead. You put up a good fight, but in the end the angle is too tight for you to properly undo it, and Jungkook brushes your hands away with a soft kiss to your lips.

He pushes himself off you, and you’re immediately craving the warm press of his body against yours the second he’s gone. “Get that dress off for me, pretty girl,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head, rendering you completely speechless as you gawk at his body. Jungkook glances down at you as he goes to undo his pants, a shapely brow raising in your direction and a soft quirk of his lips gesturing for you to do as you’re told.

You spur into action, wiggling the dress up and over your breasts until you’re pulling it over your head and letting it drop beside you on the floor. You’re just in time to see Jungkook push his jeans down his hips, a classic black Calvin Klein underwear band glaring back at you.

The chance to marvel at Jungkook’s thin waist framed by that tight underwear is gone as quickly as it came, and you’re greeted with an even more mouthwatering sight when he pushes the elastic band down, and that big cock you had alluded to springs out of its confines. You groan, subconsciously rolling your hips into the air as you take in the sight of his cock, mushroom tip swollen and flushed. There’s a thick vein that runs along the underside of it, one you only see when Jungkook grasps his dick in his hand and tugs upward like this isn’t his true form, and he can get bigger.

“Ready?” He asks, biting down on his lip as he continues to stroke himself. You nod, wiggling closer to him until the backs of your thighs rest on top of his, knees knocking against his waist. He grants you one more of those kind smiles, before he’s leaning down to press a hand beside your head, the other lining himself up with your soaked entrance.

Running his cock over your folds one last time, collecting as much of your cum as he can, he brushes a kiss against your cheekbone before he’s pushing in. You moan, throwing your hands around his neck as he pierces through the initial ring of muscle surrounding your warm heat. “Holy shit,” you choke, mouth dropped open as you pant like a dog against his shoulder. “J-Jungkook,” you cry, legs tightening around his waist the closer his body presses against yours.

Once he’s at the hilt, pelvis flush against you, you can’t help the series of whines and mewls that escape your lips from being so comfortably filled to the brim.

To your surprise, Jungkook is the first to speak. “Fuck,” he groans, breath hot against your ear. He sounds fucked out, once silky voice raspy with need as he grinds his hips against you tentatively. “This is what you wanted, isn't it?” He huffs, both hands coming down to wrap around your waist, your back arching under the wonderful hands that find themselves squeezing every inch of your back in an effort to pull you closer.

His mouth brushes against yours from this new position, and Jungkook puckers his lips, tongue coming out to lick at your bottom lip. You nearly cry when he finally pulls his hips away, relieves his cock from your tight heat before surging back in. “Wanted this from the moment you walked in, didn’t you, sweetheart?” Jungkook grunts, repeats the same motion until he’s picked up a steady pace of pushing and pulling, each roll of his hips sending a shock of ecstasy crawling up your spine.

You nod, eyes screwed shut as pleasure warms every inch of your body. It’s even worse to not see, because every sound and every touch is magnified tenfold, until you’re drowning in sensations. Jungkook’s choked groans, the slide of his hips, they all become too much too quickly and you’re choking back a sob.

“Fuck,” he groans, glancing down at your withered form like an animal as he picks up his pace. His hold on you tightens, never letting your body move away from him and he begins jack hammering in his thrusts, swallowing your cries with his lips. “Had me thinking you were a nice girl,” he huffs, and you wonder if he knows how tightly he’s holding you, how this grip will most likely leave you with fingerprint bruises tomorrow morning. But then again, you don’t care. All you care about is Jungkook’s voice and his body, guiding you toward completion. “But all you wanted was a quick fuck.”

You steel yourself to look at him again, and when your eyes finally open and focus, you’re wishing you hadn’t because Jungkook looks so hot over you. His pretty eyes, the ones that had led you into a false sense of comfort throughout the night and tricked you into believing he would be easy to bend to your every whim, are hard now. “Isn’t that right, doll?” He spits, and you whine when he punctuates this question with a particularly brutal thrust of his hips. His balls slap against your ass, and you squirm beneath him as you begin to feel the beginnings of an orgasm build in your core.

“I-I thought—“ you stammer, tone pitched from the way he jostles you with every thrust he gives. “Y-You wanted that,” you weekly defend, canting your hips down in a feeble attempt to progress this along.

He snorts, captures your lips in a rushed kiss where he wastes no time snaking his tongue inside your mouth. His saliva trickles into your mouth, and you whine as he purposefully lets it happen, pulls away just the slightest to pucker his lips and let a thick trail of spit fall straight into your open mouth. Satisfied with his little stunt, he rams his cock against you once more.

“If you wanted a quick fuck,” he says, nearly loses himself in your pussy, “you came to the wrong guy, sweetheart.”

You’re too caught up in the nice drag of his cock against your pussy, the tip of his cock stopping him from ever pulling out completely, that it takes you a second to process his words. “H-Huh?” You choke, teary eyes flickering across his face wildly as if the answer will be right in plain sight.

But all you’re met with is the soft pull of his lips as he flashes you a smirk, pearly white teeth tugging at the pink flesh, as he levels you with a glare of his own. Before you can question him further, he’s letting go of your waist to hike your knees into the crook of his elbows, his pouty lips growing further away as he leans back.

This shift has his cock nudging up, rubbing against the hood of your clit where a bundle of nerves he’d only briefly brushed before sits. You shriek in pleasure, writhing beneath him as the sudden sensation hits you full force. “Jungkook!” You sob, his hips slowing to a grind as he watches your face crumble beneath him.

“You like that?” He murmurs, rutting his hips against you shallowly. The change of pace, the rabid piston of his hips slowing to this, has your body melting into his touch. You barely manage a nod, eyes fluttering open and shut as his hips move sensually against you.

His cock brushes against that sensitive spot with each roll of his hips, and you’re a mewling, puddle of emotion by the third thrust. “Pretty girl,” he hums, letting go of one leg to place a hand above your mound, thumb circling your clit until you’re trembling beneath him. “Did you think I would fuck you and kick you out?” He husks, watching your body like he’s a lion and you’re his prey.

Your brain is far from comprehending anything at this point, reduced to a mere mass of nothingness as he continues moving against you, fingers rubbing your clit in all the right ways.

“Well, you were wrong about that, doll,” he huffs, and you’re blessed with the sight of his head lolling back as he loses himself in the tight grip of your pussy, skin glistening with sweat, trailing from behind his ear and over his neck, until you’re watching a pearl roll over his collarbones. “I don’t do that,” he informs you, and he pinches your clit between two fingers, hard enough that you almost miss his next words as you moan. “No, baby, I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he spits, and you whimper at his words. Finally, he lets go of your knees, right as you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm and you moan out in protest as he ducks down to cage you between his arms again.

“Please,” you beg, voice hoarse as his hips slowly return to their pace from before. He’s still not pulling out as much, keeping his thrusts shallow as he kisses a trail up your neck and over your jaw.

“Gonna fuck you so good, you don’t ever want to leave, pretty,” he says, kisses the corner of your mouth as his hips pick up pace. You wanna cry, feeling so warm and cherished in his arms, his voice telling you how good you’re doing as the coil in your stomach tightens and tightens until you’re begging him for more. “Do you want that?”

“Yes! Yes!” You sob, rolling your hips against his like a madman as you chase your high.

Jungkook hums, smile smushed against your lips as he watches you desperately writhing beneath him. “Yeah? You want that?” You nod, mewls swallowed by his kisses. “Then cum for me, pretty girl.”

You whimper, just as he bucks into you once more, and suddenly you’re falling apart. It starts in your lower back, the ecstasy climbing it’s way through your body until you’re quivering and sobbing in his embrace, muffling your sounds against his shoulder. The muscles in your entire body tighten painfully, until suddenly a wave of contentment washes over you, and you’re too weak to even hold onto him anymore, arms flopping back onto the couch cushions beneath you.

The whole time, Jungkook mutters encouragement against your jaw, keeps his thrusts short but quick, guiding you through your orgasm. When you’re done, he presses an open mouthed kiss beneath your ear, pulling away to look at your boneless frame beneath him.

A few pistons of his hips later, and Jungkook is coming inside of you, cum coating your walls as he hammers his way through his orgasm. He pulls out when he’s done, and you instantly feel your mixed arousal drip out between your thighs.

Woozy from the wine and the two orgasms, you fall asleep soon after.

——

“Good morning,” you murmur, standing at the doorway leading into the kitchen, an area you’d only been able to find after stumbling around the upstairs of the house in confusion.

Jungkook whirls around, wide eyes taking in your appearance. You clutch at the hem of the big t-shirt you’d pulled on, the only article of clothing you saw that was thrown over a chair in a bedroom you didn’t dare snoop around. “Morning,” he exhales, calculating gaze never leaving you as you tiptoe over to him by the counter.

He doesn’t say more, spluttering into action when you peek over his shoulder to see what he’s up to. “What’re you making?” You inquire, and his hands begin fidgeting with the knife.

“Oh, um,” he stutters, and perhaps he’s overly aware of your presence so close beside him, because he suddenly doesn’t remember how he’s supposed to cut an avocado. Cute, you think. “Just, um, toast with avocado spread…”

You hum. After a moment, it seems Jungkook is able to quell his nerves, and he carefully slices the avocado open, spreading its innards across the toast. He hands you the first piece, which you take after masking your own surprise, and soon after he’s turning away from the counter as the two of you eat in silence.

After a few thoughtful munches of bread, you speak. “Thanks for carrying me to bed,” you say, refusing to look at him.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, almost a little too fast and you barely bite down a grin as he rambles on. “Wasn’t gonna leave you on the couch, especially not when you were so tired after… ah, yeah.”

It’s the reserved way he carries himself that gives you the balls to look at him. His ears are flushed adorably red, like when you were at dinner last night talking about his job, and all you wanna do is pinch his cheeks. “Yeah,” you agree, and then add with an air of faux shyness, “you were really cool last night.”

It’s the little devil in you begging to jump out, curious to see how far you can push Jungkook before he shifts into that suave version of himself from last night, and you would feel bad had the corner of his lips not tilted up in amusement.

He chokes out a laugh, mutters a “yeah?” and you don’t stop yourself when you jump into his arms and kiss that avocado spread right off his lips.

——

On Tuesday afternoon, Kim Namjoon is in the midst of delivering another sermon-like speech on the importance of utilizing your student ID when visiting any of the Starbucks within a two mile radius of your school, when you spot a chestnut head of hair from the corner of your eye.

“Sorry, Joon! My ride's here!” You yelp, shoving your notebook into your bag as you stumble over yourself in your haste to leave.

Namjoon blinks. “Huh? I thought you lived on campus?”

You nod, that giddy feeling starting up in your chest as he comes closer to where you and Namjoon have taken up residence on a table in the commons for your weekly meeting, and by the time he reaches the table Namjoon is still in the midst of questioning you.

“Jungkook,” You say, all dreamily and dazed, and you know this because Doyeon caught you with this same exact look on your face after he dropped you off at the dorms Sunday afternoon.

Namjoon startles. “What the f—“

“Hi,” Jungkook beams, leans down to brush a kiss against your cheek, which only serves to make you even more ditzy and dumb in the face of this handsome man. “Oh, hey, hyung.”

“What’re you doi—“

“All set?” Jungkook asks you, completely ignoring whatever his beloved senior was saying in favor of taking your bag off your shoulders. You nod, have to swallow a giggle down when he takes your hand in his. “Bye, hyung.”

“Bye, Joon!” You barely remember to throw over your shoulder, too busy wrapping yourself around Jungkook’s arm to hear Namjoon blabber in shock.

“Kids these days,” he huffs.

[ part 2 ; hulu & woohoo ]

#jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #goldenclosetnet #ksmutclub #jjk smut #bts smut #mine

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