#female blonde under thirty
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Birdie
John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader
Summary: A rare night out in London has Bucky coming to terms with his feelings for you.
Word Count: 2.9k
Tags: mechanic!reader, songbird!reader, female!reader, she/her pronouns used, drinking culture, cursing, mutual pining, moderate bouts of denial, insecurities, women supporting women because it's what we deserve, let's pretend that The Old Therebefore is an ancient Appalachian folk song in this universe, maybe she's a Mary Sue idgaf, I just wanted to write something happy so LET ME LIVE, WWII era, there's no Y/N but reader has the nickname "Birdie"
A/N: Yeah, I'm obsessed with Masters of the Air. I had to write something for my mans before the creative procrastination literally killed me. Please leave a like, comment, or even a reblog if you're so inclined :)
You can read my OC version of this story on AO3!
Songs Mentioned in This Fic:
Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy by The Andrews Sisters
G.I. Jive by Johnny Mercer
The Ole Therebefore (Accapella) by Rachel Zegler
Disclaimer: I own nothing. This story and any recognizably named characters are based solely on dramatic portrayals of the characters from the series, not the real individuals they represent. All the respect to the actual service people who fought and died in the Second World War. Also, don't copy my writing without explicit permission. That includes you, you AI sonuvabitch.
Your heels clicked on the cobblestone streets, turning into the pub you’d heard so much about. You were out celebrating a very rare weekend off. The Brass had somehow allowed you and twenty other mechanics from base two days leave, so you took advantage of the opportunity and headed straight to London.
Your two best girlfriends from base were with you. Teresa was one of the toughest nurses you’d ever come across. She could give you a wide grin, crinkles around her hazel eyes, and reset a broken bone without breaking a sweat. It helps that she was already working towards becoming a nurse back in New Mexico, the war just sped along that process. You had bonded over your love of books, giving each other recommendations almost weekly.
You’d met Irene on the boat to England. She puked on your shoes almost thirty minutes exactly after leaving the port in New York. You gave a small grin, offering her a handkerchief and a piece of ginger candy and the rest was history. Finding out that she was a fellow mechanic was the icing on the cake. Coming in at a whopping five foot two, the spritely blonde could easily be found in a crowd with her loud Appalachian accent.
It seemed almost like fate for the three of you to have found each other. Being some of the few women on base naturally made you close, but you were closer with Irene and Teresa than any of the others. That’s not to say that you weren’t friends with any of the men, because you were. Friendly.
All three of you were dressed to the nines, in contradiction to your everyday work wear. You all got ready together in your hotel room, giggling while you applied makeup here, spritzed some perfume there. You all felt confident and were ready to have a good time. You spotted some familiar faces and made your way over towards them, your friends linked arm-in-arm with you. Lemmons was the first to greet you.
Of the fifty men on the ground crew, Sgt. Ken Lemmons was the most welcoming of them all. From the get-go, he didn’t care if you were a man or woman. He just wanted to know that you were capable. You were sure he had to go through some hazing because of his age, which probably changed his perspective on gatekeeping the job. This made earning and maintaining respect a lot easier for the women on your crew. We all came over with the same goal, it was better for all if we just helped each other out.
“Hey Birdie! Nice to see you out and about.”
Ah, the famed nickname. You tend to hum and sing under your breath when elbow-deep in a project. It helps you pass the time and clear your mind. Of course, the rest of the ground crew quickly caught on to this habit of yours, which quickly earned you the nickname “Birdie”. You, of course, never sing solo in public, so this confuses anyone who’s not around you while you’re working. But the name stuck, so here you are. Birdie.
Chairs are quickly cleared for you and your friends, which you all graciously take. You go up to buy some drinks, knowing what your friends like, and quickly return with your drinks of choice. Conversation flows, laughs are shared, and a few drinking games are played over the next hours. Teresa soon speaks up on a topic you’d been hoping to avoid.
“Do you think he’ll be here tonight?”
You shrug and look into your drink, “Dunno. Why does it matter?”
Irene, the ever supportive best friend that she is, backs up Teresa. “What do you mean ‘why’? This is your chance to finally make a move!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You quickly deny, taking another sip.
An unladylike snort leaves Irene, “My ass! You and Major Egan have been making googly eyes at each other when you think the other’s not looking for months. I’m saying it’s time for you to perk your tits up, buck on over and ride that—!” You slam your drink on the table, pressing your hand over Irene’s mouth, heat rising to your cheeks in embarrassment.
“Are you insane?” You whisper harshly, looking around to make sure no one overheard you. You seem to be in the clear, which makes you calm down a bit. Irene pushes off your hand, takes a swig of her drink, and consults the person who started this whole conversation.
“Am I wrong?” You look to Teresa, who cringes slightly in agreement.
You gape at the pair of them. Normally, you were the median between the two girls who had vastly differing opinions. But this is what made them come to a consensus? Unbelievable.
“Look, I’m not saying that I don’t want to.” You start, which makes your friends nod encouragingly at you. “It’s just that… Is he really as interested as you think he is?”
They both groan and slump against each other, like they’d just run a marathon. Teresa sits up, scooching your chair in closer so that the three of you were in a private triangle, cut off from the rest of the group.
“Let’s look at the facts here, okay?” Teresa starts to tick off a finger with each point she and Irene make. But you seem to always have a rebuttal at the ready.
“He brings you coffee every morning.”
“I thought he does that for everyone.”
“He constantly fixes his hair when you’re around.”
“He takes care of his appearance!”
“He walks you to the mess hall every day for dinner.”
“We just happen to be going the same way. And we happen to have the same dinner schedule.”
“He read The Hobbit when you said how much you loved it.”
“He’s an adventurous guy, it’s an adventurous book, what’s not to like about it?”
“You two literally will walk and talk outside alone for hours.”
“A man can’t have a stimulating conversation with a woman?”
“He laughs at all your dumb jokes.”
“Hey! They’re not all dumb. Like, the one with the goose and the—”
“Point proven. Anyways! He has your picture in the inside pocket of his jacket.”
That one stops you in your tracks. You brain tries to justify this meaning but comes up blank.
“He…” You struggle with an excuse. “He…” Your best friends give victorious smirks in your direction.
“He… likes the extra padding in his jacket?” You stutter over what is possibly the most pathetic, sorry excuse you could have ever come up with.
“When are you gonna admit to yourself that he likes you? Like, actually truly likes you?”
You gave a sad sigh, letting the insecurity you were feeling deep down come to the surface. “I just… He’s just so…” You had stomped down your feelings for so long that it was becoming hard to articulate what exactly you’re feeling.
“He just seems so unreal. Like, of everyone he could have chosen, why me? I mean, I know I’m great. But you’ve seen the other girls on base. They’re all so beautiful, smart, classy… and none of them are covered in engine oil ninety percent of the time.” You looked down at your hands, specks of grease and oil peeking out from beneath your nail beds. It seems like it would never completely wash out, no matter how hard you scrubbed. You hadn’t even painted your nails for this weekend, knowing it would be money wasted come Monday morning when you’re back on the clock.
Teresa and Irene share a look that you don’t see, then come forward and grab each of your hands.
“The words you just used to describe those girls. All of that is you, Birdie. That and more. You being a mechanic doesn’t make you any less of a woman, and to hell with anyone else who thinks otherwise.” You nodded in agreement, Irene’s words of encouragement slowly washing away your anxieties.
Teresa spoke up next, “You deserve someone who will rearrange the stars and the whole night sky for you. And I’m more than willing to bet that Major Egan is up for the job.”
“Besides, none of that 'unreal' stuff. At the end of the day, John Egan is nothing more than a man. If he can’t look past his nose and his d—" You gave a squeak to cover up the vulgar word Irene was about to blurt in public. She rolled her eyes fondly and continued.
“If he can’t see what you’re worth and make the effort to treat you a hundred times better than that? That’s on him. Not you. You know what you deserve, and you deserve everything you want. Absolutely everything.”
You sniffed, happy tears coming to your eyes. You brought your best friends in for a hug, thanking them profusely.
“Don’t sweat it,” Teresa grins into your shoulder “every girl needs to be pulled out of her well sometime.”
You pull back from the hug, grabbing your glass and tipping your head back, finishing the rest of your drink. “Even if he’s not gonna be here, let’s have a ball!” Your girlfriends cheer as the three of you go to the bar for refills.
One drink turns into two, which turns into a few more, and suddenly you’re buzzed. Your group are having a rambunctious time, Irene dancing by the local piano player. Once Irene looks over to you, she stops and whispers in the player’s ear. He nods, then starts a new tune. Irene starts up her voice, walking over to you and Teresa, encouraging you to join her.
The alcohol has loosened you up enough that you don’t feel the nausea you usually associate with being perceived, so you join in the harmonies you and your friends have practiced in your bunks at night.
He was a famous trumpet man from out Chicago way
He had a boogie style that no one else could play
He was the top man at his craft
But then his number came up and he was gone with the draft
Soon the whole pub was jumping and dancing along to the tune as you brought a new vibe to the pub. It was like a spark that started an entirely new night and everyone was eager to go on forever.
One song turns into an entire set, which ends with a full rendition of G.I. Jive, which had everyone singing along. It was a magical moment; made you feel like you were a part of something important.
Irene sidles up to you, giving you a hug. She says in your ear,
“I think it’s time to slow it down a bit. How about you sing that song I taught you.”
She means an old Appalachian folk song that’s been in her family for generations. You had heard her sing it one night and immediately loved the dark, but strong nature of the lyrics. It was an honor to learn it from her.
“I don’t know, it’s your family’s song and…”
“And I can’t think of anyone better to sing it to these soldiers.” You gave each other a look, her slight eyebrow raise gave you the courage to nod in acceptance. She smiled, hugging you again, her voice yelled out to the crowd.
“Birdie’s gonna sing solo!”
The announcement is met with raucous applause, Irene and Teresa shoving you towards a dodgy looking table. Crank offers a hand up, which you take gratefully. As you find your bearings on the tabletop, you quickly spin around and find all eyes on you.
The crackling energy in the air seemed to simmer, the fast-beating hearts of the pubgoers recognizing a moment to acknowledge you. Nausea starts to make an appearance, but a deep breath quells the sensation within you for the time being.
You take another deep breath. Inhale, exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
You close your eyes, open your mouth, and sing.
Meanwhile….
Majors Gale Cleven and John Egan walk down the familiar street, one eager to catch up with his fellow countrymen’s alcohol intake, the other just happy to spend time with his friends. They were arriving later to the festivities due to being caught up in filling out reports. By far the worst part of having a higher rank was the paperwork.
“It’s pretty quiet.” Buck acknowledges. “They’re usually rowdier by this point.”
Bucky sniffs, shrugging off the concern. “Ah, it’s probably nothing.”
As the two men approach the pub, they find that a crowd has formed. Soldiers, civilians, RAF, USAAF, old, young— people had obviously stopped to watch whatever was going on. It was dead silent, save for a voice singing. Was there a radio show on or something?
A familiar face peeks out at them from the crowd, DeMarco quickly waving them over.
Bucky is quick to question, “Hey, what’s going on?” but is immediately shushed by nearby crowd members. Buck cringes in apology, despite not being the one to disturb the peace. His best friend, ever unshaken by the opinion of strangers, carries on.
DeMarco leans in, whispering, “Your girl’s taking us all to church.”
“My girl..?” Bucky’s nose scrunches in confusion. He makes space through the crowd and quickly makes sense of DeMarco’s words. It was you.
I’ll catch you up
When I’ve emptied my cup
When I’ve worn out my friends
When I’ve burned out both ends
Standing on a tabletop, watchful eyes sat all around you like baby ducks flocking to their mama. You were captivating everyone with each note and word that flows from your mouth. Damn, you've got a set of pipes— a voice that belongs on the radio, in concert halls, on Hollywood records. He had no idea.
His little Birdie.
“Wow.” Buck mutters in awe from behind him, and Bucky couldn’t be more in agreement.
When I’m pure like a dove
When I’ve learned how to love
He hadn’t noticed before, but her eyes were closed. Like she needed to concentrate on each and every breath she took, every single movement her body made, before letting them out in an angelic melody.
As if by divine intervention, her eyes pop open and lock on his as she belts “how to love”
It could’ve been an eternity, for all he knows, the amount of time that they spent locked in each other’s gaze. The world pauses around them, everything frozen. Her eyes were already the kind to knock a man clean off his feet with a single gaze, but he thinks- for a brief moment- that his heart completely stops beating.
John Clarence Egan would swear every day from then on, until his dying breath, that the course of his life was altered in that very moment. He knew how it would continue from then on, and how it would end. How he wanted it to end.
Then the world starts back up and carries on.
Right here in the old therebefore
When nothing is left anymore
Her final hums are joined by a short blonde woman who stands nearby, another face he recognizes from base.
The applause that picks up after the end of the song is near deafening. The star of the hour gives a shy smile, a quick curtsy and is given a hand to step down from the table.
Everyone soon starts mingling, the normal chatter of the bar returning. But Bucky is stuck in his spot, dumbfounded. In all the conversations you’d had together, somehow this never came up. He should’ve put two and two together, as he recalls overhearing your hums one morning as he made his daily coffee delivery to you. But you had been caught off guard, so much so that you tripped off the ladder you stood on and fell. Luckily, his quick reflexes kicked in to catch you before any serious injuries occurred.
Remembering the sensation of his hands on your waist and thighs, face just inches from yours, sent his brain into a tailspin. That’s not even considering just how damn cute you were when, after a beat, you turned away from him and playfully mourned the cups of coffee that were splattered all over the hardstand.
“John. John?” A hand waving in front of his face knocks him out of his reverie. He blinks once, twice. Then looks to his best friend.
His voice comes out uncharacteristically weak in response, to which he then clears his throat and corrects. “Yes—yeah?” He pops the collar of his sheepskin jacket to try and hide the rampant red of his ears that signals the heat radiating from them.
Buck just shakes his head and gives him a knowing smile. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Egan. Never thought I’d see the day.”
“See what day?” Bucky starts to consciously return to his body, leaning on the bar.
“The day when a girl finally knocks you on your ass. I knew you had a thing for her, but that?” He points to his face and motions to indicate where they had just been standing. “That’s something else. That’s something real.”
Bucky gives another shrug in response, to which Buck throws back an unconvinced frown. He turns his head to gaze over the pub patrons and is distracted by you once again. Any denial he was about to spout immediately dies in his mouth when you lock eyes with him again and give him a dazzling smile. The world starts to fade away again.
His heart pumps faster in his chest at the sight. Damnit. He sighs, telling his best friend the truth he’s been privately wrestling with for a while now, all the while keeping his eyes locked on yours.
“I know, Buck. I know.”
Bucky smiles back at you and is elated when your face lights up. You give him a wave.
“She kinda snuck up on me.”
#masters of the air#mota#john egan x reader#john egan x oc#john bucky egan#john bucky egan x reader#bucky egan x reader#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#john egan x female reader#bucky fanfic#bucky egan fanfiction#mota spoilers#ken lemmons#gale cleven#buck and bucky#buck x bucky#john egan#bucky egan#crank cruikshank#charles cruikshank#curt biddick#buck cleven#gale buck cleven#harry crosby#bubbles payne#hbo war#hbo war fanfic#hbo war fandom#hbo war oc
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀rekindled, john price
divorce can either turn dark or be a smooth ride down lala land. john and you've been divorced for a while now, but it's not really much of a secret that he just can't stay away from you. especially when he has returned from being whisked away with task force 141.
♔ ˖ ✧ — general warnings: female reader, her/she pronouns, female anatomy described, black reader written in mind, ex husband!john, established past relationship, john and reader have a set of twins, reader gossiping with her friends, italics means a flashback, profanity usage, slight second chance lovers trope // smut warnings: oral (f.receiving), standing position, dirty talk, possessive!john prince, some love bombs are dropped, breeding kink, description of making out // word count: 4.4k, // ao3 // minors dni.
YOU AND YOUR EX-HUSBAND DIDN’T REALLY LEAVE ON A BAD NOTE. But You didn’t leave on a good note either. Your marriage just slowly became dull. Of course, you still had your beautiful twin boys that seemed to steal that charming smile John had. However, you were fully aware that attempting to stay together for the sake of the kids—did more harm than good. The divorce was finalized and the two of you were okay with co-parenting, actually, you’ve been doing it for over a year now. It’s been working well considering what John did for a living, so the majority of the time the boys were with you. When he came back home, they stayed with him.
It was okay. You were okay being newly divorced, having a nice paying job that you enjoyed, your two sons striving in academics and extracurricular activities, and you even oddly joined a book club also. The book club was filled with different types of women. From the women married to rich bachelors to the freshly divorced who snuggled up with their pool boys after the children slept. They were quite an odd crowd to hang around, but you were genuinely happy. Although you couldn’t relate to your husband buying you a brand new Mercedes or having a sultry affair with your child’s teacher, this group of women knew how to have fun when they wanted to.
Maybe that’s how you whine up at the town’s local bar with them. After realizing how hot and steamy the chapters of this month’s book club book were, you and the ladies decided to go into town for a drink or two. It’s the least you guys could do after a long week of student-teacher conferences and football tournaments.
“Do you ever miss him?” Blonde-haired Cheryl asked as she down a shot of tequila. Her face scrunched up as she picked up the lime slice to suck on. “You know? John?” She adds to ensure that her question was meant for you.
“What is there to miss? We divorced and went our separate ways. Our boys are happy, and that’s all we care about.” You answered truthfully.
“And what if she told you he just walked in right now as we’re speaking.” Thirty-two-year-old Sheila asked. Her brown skin glistened under the bar light as she leaned back into the booth seat. She twirled her finger around a coil on top of her head before letting out a drunken dreamy sigh.
“He isn’t coming back to town until next week.” You answered. The two women stared at you as if you’d grown another arm out of your body. You were sure it was because they drank too much, but Sheila had pointed at the figure that stopped to greet the very popular bartender that had seen everyone who stepped foot in here at their lowest.
You followed where she was pointing, and your breath hitched in your throat. There John was chatting with the bartender—completely making up for the lost time of him not being around. Your teeth nibbled at your lower lip as you quickly turned around before he could fully notice you. You watched as Cheryl placed her head in her hand with a cheeky grin on her face.
“What?” You asked as you leaned forward to capture the straw in your alcoholic beverage. “It’s not a big deal; he could be here to meet someone. You know, we’ve divorced you guys. He’s allowed to date.”
“Mhm, okay.” Sheila laughs. “Why are you suddenly so fidgety? You can’t even sit straight now.”
Now it was Cheryl piecing the pieces together. She’s been with you from the start of the divorce and even asked her husband to be your lawyer. She and Sheila knew you so well. Yes, she knew that you haven’t gotten laid since the divorce, claiming so many times that it’s messy to introduce a man in your life so soon. Despite you and John being divorced for a while now. But Cheryl was calling bullshit. She then covered her mouth in complete shock as the alcohol gave her a boost of realization. “You didn’t!?” She shrieks loudly, and that causes some people to glance in the table’s direction.
“Did what?” Sheila asked as she looked at her before popping another peanut in her mouth.
“You gave him some, didn’t you?” Cheryl asked. She collected the untouched tequila shot meant for you and downed it with ease. “You gave John some before he left and didn’t even tell us. Here I’m thinking you were practicing abstinence?” Her manicured fingers pointed at you like you were on trial for the Salem Witch Trials.
“What? That’s nonsense,” Now you were taking huge gulps of your drink. Even took the skinny black straw from the drink and down it until it was burning your insides.
“She did. She sees him and suddenly can’t sit straight. Don’t even want to see him. So, she must have enjoyed it.” Sheila laughed. “Spill the details now, or I’m throwing this peanut at your forehead.”
You couldn’t even lie your way out of this. What they were saying was true. Before John had to leave, right after dropping your sons back off to you—one thing led to another, and you found yourself gasping out his name and seeing stars in the moment's bliss. You hated to admit that was what you had thought about since he left. When your eyes closed to go to sleep, you visualized that moment of him being in between your thighs that night. Your cheeks even heated in embarrassment as you sat here trying to deny it happened. Having sex with your ex-husband was messy, especially when you have been telling your friends that you've been going out on dates and attempting the dating pool again.
“He dropped the boys off, and it just happened, okay?” You threw your hands up in defeat. “One thing led to another, clothes being torn off—you guys know the deal.”
“But did you feel anything, or was it just sex?” Cheryl asked.
“Like, did he fuck you with meaning or like a one-night stand?” Sheila asked.
“Sheila!” Cheryl shrieked as she playfully smacked her arm.
“What, Cheryl? I think this is an important question to ask, considering the circumstances. If he fucked her like a one-night stand, he just wanted a last little taste so he could go on about his life. But if he fucked her with some meaning, maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t want to let go just yet.” Cheryl had taken a sip of her vodka tonic and gave you a grin. “So which one was it, Y/N?”
Which one was it? You couldn’t even remember. You sat twiddling with your thumbs as the memories of that night came swirling around your brain for you to remember.
“They’ve been playing all damn day, so I figure that would be ready for bed when they get here,” John commented as he tucked one of the children in.
You only hummed at his response as you leaned down to tuck your other son in. It was good that they were going to bed at a reasonable time since they had school the following morning. You just were grateful that John was being a responsible parent and returning them at a good time that worked for both of you. As you two left the twins' room, you felt like this feeling was a little too familiar. The tucked the boys in, the each giving them a kiss goodnight and then sneaking out of the room not to wake them. It felt strange now, knowing with the divorce finalized—the two of you didn’t go to the shared bedroom together. Instead, John would share his farewell and just leave.
You were still getting used to your home's subtle silence now that John wasn’t here. You knew that if he were still here around this time—you would hear the laughter of your three favorite boys playing video games or watching television. But now it wasn’t like that. You no longer heard John’s loud laughter that echoed through the halls, no matter how hard he tried to keep it down. It was just silence.
“I’m going away for a couple of weeks, possibly a month max.” John breaks your thoughts as he stops you from going further down the hall. He noticed the grasp he had on your hand and quickly dropped it.
You were used to talks like this. Once again, it was different with you two being divorced this time. Your lips form a straight line as you realize that you’ll have to give your sons the talk. “Did you tell the boys?” You asked.
“Of course, they took the news quite well. Shockingly,” John chuckles as he rubs at his facial hair before sighing. “I just wanted to let you know also.”
“They’re not our little babies anymore; they’re getting so big.” You admitted. “But I appreciate you telling me,” You added.
He gives you a grin of satisfaction before he shares his farewells to find his way out. However, now it was you stopping him from departing. “Just return back to us—I mean them, in one piece.” You gave him a genuine smile that you knew he had to return.
“And if I don’t?” John turns to take a step forward, once again closing the gap between you two as you stand in the hallway.
“I’m going to come to save you myself if I have to. I am not going through these boys' teenage years alone, you smug asshole.” You said as you were trying to bite back a grin.
John glances at you with a twinkle in his eyes. His heart pinged at the sight of that grin. Some days he found himself questioning what went wrong without realizing that nothing can go wrong in a relationship. However, people can outgrow each other. They can just realize that it wasn’t working out anymore, and John was trying so hard to attach that statement to the two of you. He just couldn’t. The captain couldn’t let you go. He was quite upset that he let you go—that he sat and let the divorce happen.
“So please, John Price, return in one piece quickly.” You repeated. You noticed his eyes glancing at your lips and soon staring back at you. He did that when he wanted to kiss you. You’ve known him for years to tell that.
“And if you want one last kiss, just get it over with, John.” You threw your hands up in defeat, knowing that this would only complicate and confuse things. But then again, this could be the last time you see him.
With that, he’s kissing you. He’s kissing you so hard that you forget to breathe for a second. Your fingers grasped at his shirt to get him closer. Your back was pushed against the wall as John deepened the kiss. His tongue glides across your lower lip, aching to taste you. His guess was you were drinking wine before he dropped the kids off because, on Sunday nights, you spent it drinking wine and indulging in a bubble bath. Of course, he remembered that. He knew you more than he fuckin’ knew himself.
Your lips parted without a fight or fuss just to let John in. His tongue slithers in your mouth, and you can’t help but moan at the feeling. John’s kisses always took you to another universe. They were so intense that they made your knees go weak. They made you sit and think about them. They had you wanting more. Maybe this kiss and the fact that you haven’t been laid since the divorce had you eager for more. His lips disconnect from your lips to kiss your jawline and then to your neck. His facial hair tickles you, and you bite back a childish giggle as you notice how fast he moves. His hands lingered in the pastel pink silk robe that seemed to loosen each second.
“Fuck, I missed this,” John whispered before he planted a kiss on your swollen lips again.
“We’re going to wake the boys. We should go into the room,” You said between the subtle breaks of the kiss. “They’ll question why you’re still here, you know?”
“We’ll figure that out when we get there.” He leads you to the master bedroom that once was shared by you two. The scent of John still lingers around even though you even redecorated the room to your liking.
Your back pushes against the room door to close it shut as your eyes watch John tugging the shirt he wore over his head. Your teeth got caught in your lip as you took him in. From his broad shoulders to the battle scars. The sight of him had your panties wet and forced you to clutch your thighs shut. He took two steps to be closer to you again, his eyes taking in your features. From your coils that fell in your face due to your wash-n-go style to those eyes that put him in a trance every time he looked at you. His hands travel down to untie the knot of the silk robe.
Your skin is now garnished with goosebumps as soon as the crisp air in your room hits your skin. Your nipples had already hardened from just the sight of John, so they immediately poked through the silk fabric. John’s mouth watered at the sight of you. He always thought you were the most beautiful woman he had seen. His tongue wets his lips before he gets on his knees without a word to help you step out of your panties. He’s prompting one of your legs over his shoulder without a care, and without warning, he’s indulging in your taste. The flat of his tongue gliding across your wet folds. John missed this. He missed being between your plush legs, hearing you whimpering his name and clawing your fingers through his hair.
His tongue flickers at your clit, which got you talking. Your hand went up to muffle your moans, but as soon as you felt John’s tongue trace the outline of your entrance—you had lost any grace to keep your voice down. Your knees buckled slightly at the feeling of him in between your thighs. John ignored your pleas and cried about how good he made you feel. The only thing on his mind was the thought of tasting you. Making you come so good that when he left—he was the only thing on your mind. Was that selfish of John? Probably so, but he didn’t give a damn.
Teasingly he placed a kiss on your thigh before going back in. His nose nuzzled at your pubes as he took his index and middle finger to insert inside of you without warning. He let his tongue flicker at your sensitive bud as he thrusts his fingers inward. Your juices dripped down his slender digits as he fingered you. His eyes make eye contact with you as he’s curving his finger just to hit that spot that causes you to yell out his name.
“John baby, please. I’m about to-“ Your words stopped abruptly when you felt him remove himself from you. Your orgasm blew away as quickly as ever as John stood up off his knees. He’s staring at you with so much lust in his eyes—it was the same look he gave you the night the twins were conceived.
His bulge was noticeable in his pants; you took it upon yourself to tug him closer in a heated kiss. The taste of you now encrypts your tongue while you undo the button on his pants. You let your hand rub at his bulge, causing him to groan in the kiss. As you were helping him out his bottoms, his callous hands fully tugged the silk robe off. The robe decorated the brown wooden floors alongside John’s clothes, and with each passing minute, you became whole again.
He lifts you up easily, and a chill goes down your spine at the feeling of his cock brushing against your entrance. You were expecting him to carry you to the bed. You wouldn’t have minded him taking you in a missionary position where you could feel extra stroke; he put his all in. Or doggy style, where you could muffle out his name in the fluffy pillow. But instead, he’s using the door to lean your back upon, and with one hand holding you up—he using his other to help guide you upon his cock. Your arms snake around his neck in a strong grasp from the feeling of his thick cock stretching you out and the fear of him dropping you. You two had never done a position so vulgar, so this came as a shock to you. But the only thing you could do is indulge in the glorious feeling of John.
It was such an amazing feeling. It felt like John was the only thing you could stutter out. How his hands guided you up and down his cock had your eyes lolling in the back of your head. Your teeth nibbled on your lower lip to muffle your moans because you didn’t want to wake the boys. With each thrust upward, you felt your juices dripping down your thighs. When you made eye contact with John, you didn’t think you could get any wetter than you already were. He looked so wonderful like this. Balls deep inside you, uttering how well you’re taking him and how beautiful you look. Were you falling back in love with him, or was that just the way he was fucking you that had your brain all mushy inside.
“You haven’t been giving this pussy to anyone else, have you?” John questioned through his rhythmic thrusting.
You couldn’t muster up an answer until he fully tugged himself from thrusting upward inside of you and slamming himself back into your wet pussy once again. This time repeat the question so you can answer him loud and clear.
“No, I’m all yours, John.” You whimpered out with tears of pleasuring, staining your lash line.
You leaned in to kiss him deeply, your fingers combing through his hair, just wanting to feel closer to him. Although your bodies were already swapping sweat and intertwined closer than ever, it just felt right at the moment, wanting to be closer to John. His thrusting became quicker, and you knew he was most likely about to cum. You could always tell when he was about to come.
Cause when John came, he came a lot. Big heavy loads of his cum just oozed out when he came. He had a thing where he would always come inside you unless you told him not to. But it didn’t shock you; he told you before you two got engaged that he wanted kids. You always joke that it was why you were graced with twins instead of one child.
His face would get as red as a tomato, and the only thing you could hear him say as he cast soft kisses upon your neck and collarbone was your name.
“Y/N..Y/N..I love you, Y/N.”
When the two of you were being tugged down by the intense feeling of your orgasms, you quickly went to tug on your rob. Your skin felt hot, sticky, and you smelt like him. You were shuffling in embarrassment as you collected John’s clothes off the floor and shoved them in his hands. You couldn’t even progress the fact that he uttered those words to you.
“You must get out of here before the boys see you.” You were avoiding looking at him because you knew you would want more. You knew you couldn’t say those words because it would further confuse you.
You were expecting him to argue against your words, but John collected his clothes and started to put them on. The two of you were silent as you sat on the bed, attempting to collect your thoughts. You had just slept with your ex-husband and enjoyed it. Actually, you were eager for me.
And the last thing John said to you before leaving the bedroom you once shared was to give the boys one last kiss for me.
You leaned back into your seat, watching as your two friends were a giggling mess.
“I can’t believe you kicked him out afterward. You could at least let him sleep in the guests' room.” Cheryl said.
“Hell, he had his head in between her thighs. Might as well sleep in the master bedroom.” Sheila adds.
Sheila would finish her drink and check her phone, “Oh shit, the wife has come to pick us tipsy stranglers up.” She says as she looks at you. “I mean, you can always ask John for a ride. Considering you already…you know.”
Cheryl snickers as she tugs her jacket on and collects her belongings. “Sheila, we have to be serious. He can’t know what we know. Now I’m heading to the ladies' room before we leave; you coming?”
“Oh yeah,” Sheila says.
“I’ll meet you two outside.” You slipped on your jacket and moved by the crowd in the bar to exit. Purposely avoiding the direction that John was near.
It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see him. You just knew seeing him would mean you’ll bombard yourself with feelings that you've been thinking about since he left. You’ll be forced to think about how maybe letting him was a huge mistake.
As soon as you stepped outside, you called the babysitter for your sons to let them know that you were on your way home. Your back leaned against the brick wall waiting for Sheila and Cheryl—of course, they would take forever in the bathroom when you needed to run away from someone. You tugged your jacket further on your body once you felt the crisp nightly breeze brush by you. Suddenly, you could feel someone standing next to you. And you knew it was him.
For one.) he probably saw you leave in such a hurry you would think you left your oven on at your house or two.) Cheryl and Sheila didn’t actually go to the bathroom. They most likely drunkenly approached him and said that you were waiting for him.
“We need to talk.” It seemed you two said at the same time.
Now you were facing him, the sound of the bar door was pushed open, and your two friends bubbly stumbled out, arms linked with each other as they walked towards Sheila's wife's car.
“Bye, John,” Cheryl drags out his name with a childish grin, not hiding that she knew you two slept together. “Y/N? Are you coming? They can drop you off also.”
“She’s in good hands, Cheryl. I’ll make sure she gets off safely.” John gives her a half grin, and you look at your friends, trying to telepathically tell them not to leave you alone with him.
But Sheila only winked at you before wishing her farewells to you and John and dragging a tipsy Cheryl away. Now the two of you were alone. Just you, him, and your thoughts about that night before he left.
“We should get going. The babysitter is waiting for us—I mean me.” You said, and with that, you followed John to his car.
Too many memories hit you all at once when you were in the passenger seat. The scent of John, obviously. The one crayon marking from one of the twins was on the dashboard. The driver's side that you occasionally would glance at John and watch him drive. He’ll always catch you staring before you look away in embarrassment. Gosh, you couldn’t forget the times that seat was reclined back, and you climbed on top of him like a hormonal sex-deprived woman. But you shouldn’t be thinking about this at the moment. You wanted to have a clear conversation with him without anything sexual getting involved.
“Is this the part where we awkwardly talk about what happened?” John questioned. His eyes stared ahead on the road, and you just felt so little in his car.
Facing your feelings head-on as soon as that question comes out. Your fingers toyed with the bracelets that decorated your wrist before speaking, “We had sex. What more is there to say?”
You could hear your ex-husband tapping at the steering wheel. He clicks his tongue before speaking, “That’s what it was? Doesn’t seem like it, but okay.” He makes a turn, and you take note that he was purposely taking the long way back to the home you two once shared.
“Okay?” You asked. “Is that why you’re taking a long way home? Come on, John. We’ve taken this route before when we want-” You stopped midsentence realizing what you would say.
It was the same way he would take where he would pull over after a romantic date, and the two of you would engage in a heated quickie. He would take the same route if you two needed to argue a little longer to prevent your sons from hearing it when you were home. The last time you took this route, your lips parted to utter the word divorce; the rest was history.
“Because we need to talk. You know more than I know that what happened was more than just sex.”
You grew silent, slowly slumping in your seat. “But what’s next if I say I felt more?” You asked. Your arms cross over your chest, sighing. “We can’t just get together.”
“Why not?” John stops at the red light, forcing you to meet his gaze.
Oh, that gaze. He knew what he was doing. He knew that right now, the way his eyes drank in your looks as if you were the finest bottle of whiskey made your heart flutter in your chest. You looked away, not having an answer to his question because there weren’t any. Deep down, you wanted to give you and John another try.
It was only right that you rekindled the old flame that blew out.
After a minute of silence and the low hum of whatever generic pop song was playing on the radio, you asked. “So, how does this work?”
“I guess we take it one step at a time.” He gives you a reassuring smile that you return.
“One step at a time.” You repeated before finally relaxing in your seat.
One step at a time at rekindling your marriage.
━━ ♡ TAGS // @takemichiluvr @astennu @maydayaisha @introvered-violinist @diorlov3er @xintothewoodswegox @erieniee @photosbyameil @monstas1ut2 @princessd4isyjr @indiecursor @pranksterfan13 @mommiej @sweetsummerpie @caramelanins @alinvert @blackwolfqueenzz @attemptedgull @arctic-writes @h0rror-wh0re @yoshimurah @honeyhoneyyyyyy @hellshedevil @shamelesshoefairy @koresflora
#john price x reader#john price smut#cod x reader#cod smut#call of duty x reader#call of duty smut#video games smut#video games x reader#female reader#black reader#cod x black reader#cod x y/n#cod x you#cod imagine#x black reader#john price fanfiction#cod fanfiction
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Birthday Boy
Dad!Jake “Hangman” Seresin x female reader
Summary: It’s Jake’s birthday and you have a very special gift for him.
Warnings: this is just a mega fluff monster (i think, anyway). Jake’s all happy being a dad and being in love with his lady and everything. Maybe cursing. Didn’t double check. Allusion to eventual smut that is not in this fic. Just to be safe:18+
Notes: can be read alone, but contributes to the Oh, Baby world as well.
Words: 2422
Oh, Baby Masterlist
Masterlist
*turn on notifications for this blog or @seresinhangmanjake-library if you would like to keep up with my writing*
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Thirty-four. The number was speckled throughout his house. It was strung together as part of a lengthy banner that was taped to his wall; scribbled in green icing across the center of the vanilla cake you’d baked him with an equal number of rainbow-colored candles sticking out the top; and in the form of two massive shiny, floating balloons in the corner of the living room—Rooster’s addition to the decor, supposedly meant to tease Jake but were obviously brought for your daughter, Eve’s, amusement. And the little girl loved them, immediately crawling across the carpet to stare up at the mirror-like mylar that reflected her fascinated face.
Jake had joked two weeks prior that he was getting old, so you’d taken it upon yourself to plan a party that reminded him of his younger days…his very young days. You’d gone all out, including everything for a kiddie party but the clowns and ponies.
Initially, you weren’t sure how he’d take the surprise—he could see the worry in your twisted features when you observed his wide eyes and gaping mouth—but Jake only grabbed you around the waist and kissed you until everyone grew bored of watching a couple so lost in themselves. No one had ever quite done anything like this for him before. He’d had birthday parties, sure, plenty as a child, but not a single one after his mid-twenties, and never thrown by a woman he loved.
You’d still kept it small. Inviting your shared friends, a few other pilot buddies, Penny and Mav and a couple of the Hard Deck bartenders—one of whom was the pretty blonde Rooster had yet to completely get over despite the year that had passed since first meeting her. Clearly you knew something the rest of them didn’t when it came to the woman because you spent a good bit of time trying to push her and Rooster together. And if Jake could tell by the occasional glances he shot the two, it looked like some progress had been made. Good, Jake thought. He wanted his friends to have what he had.
By far, it was the best party he’d been to, fully surpassing the unknown number of wild nights he'd dedicated to getting hammered in college. Jake liked the intimacy of it all, even more so after it had died down and most guests returned to their own homes, leaving just you and his team remaining.
“Well,” Rooster began after taking a sip of the beer that you’d made sure to pour into a polka-dotted plastic cup, “I hope you enjoy being old, Hangman.”
Phoenix tucked her finger under the elastic band holding the cone-shaped hat to Rooster’s head and pulled it a good few inches away from his face before releasing it. It slapped harshly against his skin and with a frown, he rubbed his palm over the fresh sting.
“If he’s old, we’re all old,” she scolded. “And you should be nice to the birthday boy.”
“The birthday boy’s got enough nice things. He’s got his lovely lady.” He winked at you and you rolled your eyes with a chuckle. Then he extended his finger to lightly tickle Eve’s cheek. “And he’s got this little nugget.”
When his daughter giggled in his arms, Jake pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her hair. He smiled contently before turning his head to connect his lips with yours. You both grinned into the kiss, that usual fluttering blooming in his stomach as you placed your hand on his cheek to draw him in closer.
“Ok,” Payback just short of shouted, trying to pull your and Jake's attention back to the surface. “You know other people are here, right? And you’ve got a child in your arms.”
Separating from Jake, you looked back to your group of friends. “That was an innocent kiss.”
Fanboy snorted and took a bite of his cake. “It was no peck,” he mumbled around a mouthful of sponge and frosting.
Jake reached behind you to rest his hand against your lower back, but it lasted there all of five seconds before traveling lower to settle on your ass. "Well, that’s as innocent as we get," he said.
“Pathetic,” Rooster playfully scoffed. “Be less in love with each other.”
“Not a chance, man.”
Everyone released a mocking groan at the sappiness, but Jake only snickered and leaned over to kiss your temple. It wasn’t the first time his teammates had joked about your supposed ‘nauseating’ obsession with one another, but underneath, their love for the two of you together was more than supported.
“We should probably go,” Phoenix said. They all nodded in agreement, hugging you and Jake before giving extra special goodbyes to your daughter. Then they were gone—so much like a herd of wild animals or a school of fish migrating in one giant mass.
Jake blew out a breath. He wasn’t old, but it didn’t mean the man didn’t feel the exhaustion of the long evening.
“Tired?” you asked, extending your arms for Eve.
He handed the girl over to her mother and shook his head. “No, I’m fine.”
“Good, because your night is not over yet.”
Jake’s eyes followed the movement of your finger drawing a line down the row of his shirt buttons. He looked up at you. “Is that right?”
You winked, and as you turned on your heel to go put Eve to bed, Jake began to throw forgotten used cups and plates into the trash. They littered the area but he expected no less. His friends had a habit of bringing a tornado with them just to vanish when time to deal with the aftermath.
“You don’t have to do that, baby,” you said, stepping back down the stairs. He felt your arms snake around his waist a moment later and squeeze. “Come with me instead.”
Taking his hand, you led him to sit in a dining chair and settled yourself onto his lap.
He knew his gaze was burning as it roamed over the features of your face. The only time it wasn’t was when he made sure to tamp down his desire in front of his daughter. But his baby girl was asleep now, and nothing stopped him from unveiling the entirety of what he felt for you.
He was fully prepared to capture your lips in a kiss, but you stopped him when you said, “I got you a birthday present.”
Jake cared; he did. But you’d already given him so much and his neediness for you blocked out any ability to think of what could possibly be more important than you on top of him; he inside of you.
He hummed lowly. “Does it happen to be lacy?” he asked. His fingers slid along the smooth skin of your thigh, pushing up the hem of your dress. “And under here?”
“Yes,” you grinned as you tilted your head down to brush your nose over his. “But I got you something else, too. Something better.”
You hopped up, slipping from his grasp before he could blink and disappearing around the corner into the hall. He instantly felt the gaping hole of your absence; the chill now coating his skin from the sudden loss of your warm body. He wasn’t a fan.
“Honey, I’m not sure there’s much better than you all dolled up in lace,” he called after you.
You returned with your hands tucked behind your back, a sweet smile on your face as you once again took your seat atop his thighs. Jake rose a brow at your barely contained excitement when you whipped an envelope out and held it in front of his face. He leaned back a bit to get a good look, but the crisp, white folded paper was blank.
“What is this?”
“You have to open it and read.”
He did as told and took it from your hands, lifting the unsealed flap and pulling out another folded sheet of paper. One of his arms snuck around your waist, holding your body flush against his again—tighter this time so you had no chance of escape—as he began to read aloud.
“Petition for a change of name of a mi—” Jake’s voice caught on the syllable. His whole body, organs and all, briefly froze within him. A swallow strained his throat. “Minor,” he finally finished. He let the word settle on his tongue and when his brain regained functioning and fully processed the weight of its meaning, his eyes flicked over to yours. “Are you serious?”
Nodding with surety and cupping his cheek, you said, “I want to change her name. You just have to agree and we’ll sign some papers.”
The tears began to cloud his vision, fuzzing the words on the page as he read them again and again. “So, she’d…”
“She’d be Eve Seresin.”
Jake had imagined it before, dreamed about it. His sweet family—a small unit of Seresins that might one day grow into a decent sized bunch. You and he outnumbered by a group of little ones. But since your baby girl was such a surprise and you’d had Eve without him there—without him even in the picture at the time—her name was yours. Jake was fine with that. Of course, he was. It only made sense, and he wasn’t going to demand his daughter take his name just because you and he were officially together. But he couldn’t deny how the thought of his baby girl being a Seresin in name delightfully tightened his chest. He wouldn’t be too terribly upset by his woman sharing his name, either.
With your free hand, you brushed away the escaped salty droplet that slipped down his cheek. He met your eyes again.
“Honey, are you sure? Just because she doesn’t have my name, doesn’t mean—”
You shook your head. “I know, but your family name means something to you,” you said. “Besides, I imagine we’d be doing this sooner or later, and with Eve starting daycare in a couple of months it’s really the perfect time.”
You’re amazing, you know that? He thought about saying it every time he looked at you. Every time he saw you walk through the door, or take care of your daughter, or when you crawled into bed and cuddled up to him. And moments like this, when you expressed your devotion in such wonderful, unexpected ways.
Jake put his hand on the back of your neck and pulled you down for the kiss he’d been desperate to give you. It was a pattern of long kisses between short kisses, with some kisses making their way to cheeks and jawlines, and eventually, his lips found the sweet, delicate skin of your neck, sucking red marks into the flesh. He liked those marks—made sure to give them to you often—a new one for every old one that disappeared. He was especially adamant about it once you’d started back to work at the bar, remembering all too clearly the wide range of drunk men that went far out of their way to hit on you. But you were his now. You shared a daughter, you had a future, and he didn’t need other guys thinking they were going to get lucky with his lady. And though you didn’t give him the satisfaction, he knew you secretly loved it, too.
You moaned, your head naturally falling to the side to open access to more of your skin, and Jake gripped your neck a bit harder, holding you still as he took a gentle bite.
“I love you,” he whispered against your neck, licking over the fresh mark to soothe the tenderness before lifting his head. “And you gave me a wonderful gift.”
The glimmer in your eye—he lived for that glimmer. That little shine of pride. “Yea?”
“Yea.” He smiled softly. “Any chance you want to get your name changed, too?”
That smile morphed into a pout, his bottom lip slightly puckering.
“Don’t puppy-dog-eyes me, Seresin.”
“But Honey, I can get a wedding together so fast.”
You rolled your eyes and shook your head, but your lips were struggling to stay in a straight line. They begged to curve upwards; to part and bare your white teeth in the perfect smile that had taken him to his damn knees the first time he saw you.
Jake loved when he could get your smile to break through any emotion you were feeling or trying to portray. He was convinced that was one of the reasons you worked so well together. Crying, irritated, exhausted—didn’t matter what it was, he could find some way to get you to crack a smile. Now was no different.
He knew you weren’t going to say yes; your relationship was officially only six months old and you’d always lived by a hard line of being with a man for a year before getting married. He knew this before you even slept together, back when you were friends exchanging innocent thoughts about potential futures. But that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy hinting at the subject every once in a while.
“We’ll talk about it,” you said, moving one of his stray blond locks back into place. “But let's start with our daughter’s.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
He accepted your kiss—your promise that when he asked you that question for real, you would say yes. That was enough for him. When you were ready, he would get down on his knee and present the ring he’d had made a month ago, and you would start another chapter. But for now, everything he had was enough. More than enough. More than he could’ve dreamed of.
“Would you like to have your other present now?” you asked.
Your finger slowly traced the neckline of your dress, pulling down just a bit to reveal the lacy trim of your bra.
Jake took in a deep inhale through his nose and let the exhale fill his cheeks as it left his body. Just under that dress was a layer of thin, intricate material in a deep shade of red just barely covering some of his favorite parts of you. Swallowing hard, he replaced your finger with his and pulled the front of your dress lower to expose more of the garment. The lace barely contained the swell of your breasts, and he instantly hardened beneath you, cock straining against the zipper of his jeans.
With his eyes still glued to your cleavage, he nodded. “I would absolutely love to have my other present now.”
#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin x female!reader#dad!jake seresin#dad!jake seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake serein fanfic#jake seresin fic#top gun hangman#top gun maverick#jake seresin x you#tgm#tgm fic#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin fluff#jaks seresin imagine#jake hangman seresin x you#jake hangman x reader#jake hangman fic
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The Rockstar, Her Husband, & Their Dagger Ducklings 🐥🎸 | TGM Imagine
Takes place after the events of TGM
TGM Masterlist
Read ‘It’s A Long Way To The Top’ first before this!
Characters & Pairings: Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x 80s Rockstar!reader (romantic), Bradley Bradshaw x reader (mother/son-type relationship), Dagger Squad (platonic) Hondo (platonic)
Content Warnings: fluff, profanity, mentions or past drug use & alcohol, 80s references, found family troupe | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 5.3k
Premise: everyone loves a found family story. The one tells the what it looks like when you put a married couple, in which the husband is the Navy’s most famous pilot and the wife is the most iconic front-woman in rock n roll history, with their sorta adopted adult children that are the Navy’s best of the best pilots. Join Maverick, his rockstar wife, and the dagger ducklings on just some of their rock and rollin’ adventures.
Requested 📨: yes/no
Note: As soon as I finished IALWTTT I immediately started thinning about doing a little mini blurb about Mav, his rockstar wife, and the dagger squad as they become a little family. Plus I thought of how they would be if they were at the Rock n Roll HOF induction 😉 hope y’all like this and let me know what you think! -Bee 🐝
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There is only one word that could describe best what it’s like when a 60 and 58 year old couple decide to unofficially adopt seven 30+ year olds as their surrogate children…..It’s madness.
Well it’s madness about 80% of the time just because they’re basically teenagers in adult bodies whenever they get together. For example, Mav and Y/n really got a taste of what it was like when the daggers were in the same room just the night after the concert when they invited them over for Saturday dinner. The barbecue was going, drinks were passed around, music was on full blast and things were calm…..until it was time to sit down at the table.
“That is not how I got my callsign, Seresin!” Nat chucked a celery stick at the blonde. The conversation of call signs came into play about thirty minutes into the meal with Jake taking it upon himself to tell the stories he personally witnessed or heard from others. He had just got done explaining that Phoenix got black out drunk in flight school, threw up all over the dorms but managed to clean it all up, and then woke up in time the next day for training.
“That’s what I heard, Trace,” he defends with hands raised, laughing as the others try not to receive the wrath of the firebird.
“And who was your source?”
Jake doesn’t hesitate to throw him under the bus, “Rooster.”
“Dude!” The pilot shouts, causing Y/n to do an expression of, ‘nooooo.’
Nat threw a celery at him, “What the hell, Bradshaw, that’s not what happened.” Rooster sends a glare to Jake, before facing Nat with a look of plea, “forgive me, Nat. But that’s what I remembered happening.” Her reaction is one that reads, ‘are you serious?’
“You were just as wasted as I was! How the hell did you manage to remember that?”
“So you did black out and showed up in time for training?” Fanboy asks with slight awe. There was no way in hell he’d be about to do that. If it were him, he’d likely still be in bed and get chewed out for missing.
“Look,” she sighs, “the event itself happened, yes,” she ignores the sounds of ‘damn, Phee,’ ‘I knew it was true,’ the glare they receive causes them to shut up. “But I already had Phoenix as my callsign. That isn’t what gave me it, but people were just like, ‘no wonder they say you rise from the ashes.’ So, you can forget about that being the origin cause it wasn’t.”
Murmurs sound and then Y/n politely asks, “How did you get the name then, hon?” This time Nat blushes and tells the truth, “I used to be obsessed with the X-Men comics as a kid. And well….Jean Grey was my favorite character so I dressed up as her Phoenix form almost every Halloween for five years. Word got around and the rest was history.”
The rest of the night was full of laughs, games, and conversation.
“I am open about the fact I did…dabble in the white powder during my late teens-early twenties,” Y/n nodded when the question about her past drug use arose. The information was public that she and other band members smoked weed early in their careers and experimented with harder substances. In an interview with the Rolling Stone magazine shortly after the band went on hiatus Y/n confirmed the last time she used drugs was in 1988.
“Unfortunately it was common in the 80s—especially in the industry, I mean the amount of people you met who did it was longer than Santa’s list. When you have young, vulnerable kids who are new to the scene and having to migrate the spotlight like we did things tend to happen,” she waves a hand to emphasize her point. “But I only did it in social settings. It was only a few times really and the last time I did a line I swear I saw God. When I tell you it was like witnessing the Big Bang in real time—I-I immediately cut it off after that. It was so bad—never again.”
At one point Jake asked, “tell us your top five favorite moments in your entire career.”
“Oh God,” she laughed, turning to Mav who had the same expression. “Only five? That’s gonna need time to think but……” she starts counting off with her fingers, “in no particular order: the Super Bowl, duh. The first ever MTV Video Music Awards—you just had to be there. Smoking a blunt with Snoop Dogg after the 2001 Grammys,” she paused when they all hollard with cheers. “Performing with Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr,” Bob made an audible sound like it was the coolest thing he’d ever heard. “And…..oh gosh there’s so many more—SNL, winning the Oscar, making out with Matt Dillion after The Outsiders premiere,” Mav rolled his eyes at that knowing she was teasing him. Of course he knew she’d been with Hollywood heartthrobs before they met, men and women alike. Mav wasn’t insecure or anything. They’d been together for so long he had nothing to be insecure for. It was just that he had met Matt Dillion in the 90s…..and could tell the actor still had lust for his woman.
Y/n couldn’t help but tease him knowing Pete was obviously jealous the night she introduced the two at a party they attended. It was just a friendly encounter with Y/n having her eyes for the pilot, disregarding the affectionate gaze from her former fling. “He won’t stop staring at you,” Pete pouted when he caught Matt’s eyes for a fourth time, once again checking his girlfriend out. Chuckling, Y/n made herself comfortable in Pete’s lap, pulling him closer so they barely had space as she went in to kiss him after saying, “Let him stare, baby. He had a chance and he missed it. Now he’s in the past and you’re my present and future.”
Yeah, Matt left the party shortly after that display.
Y/n kissed blushing Pete’s cheek and took a moment to think, “But I gotta include the first time we played at The Garden. I think that’s the moment when I really felt like I was a rockstar.”
The dogs were having a grand time with all the attention they were getting. Goose spent most of the time on Bradley’s lap, with Y/n scolding the man for feeding the pup some of the plain chicken wing meat. Plans were arranged for the upcoming months which included Mickey and Jake’s birthdays, Halloween and of course, Y/n’s HOF induction. The daggers were under the impression only Mav and possibly Rooster would get to go in person to the event, so they worked on meeting up to watch the live feed together.
Little did they know their resident rockstar was already conspiring.
Speaking of Halloween, the party was a night to remember when the holiday arrived. It had already been established that Mav and Y/n knew how to throw a party. Mickey and Jake’s birthday were just two examples in which the dagger squad, the band, and their close friends were thankful Y/n’s closest neighbors were quite the walk away. Halloween, however, was where the couple got to shine.
Not only were they best dressed as Jack Skeleton & Sally, with their dogs all dressed up as bats, but their entire home looked straight out The Nightmare Before Christmas. The front lawn was like a graveyard, with a giant inflatable pumpkin. Inside was spectacular with the sunken living room transformed into a dancefloor. One could expect the daggers were trying not to lose their mind with the amount of stars they met. Duran Duran was there, which was expected since the two bands had been friends since the 80s but also because of the induction in just a few short weeks.
Robert Downey Jr. was in attendance with his family—Fanboy pretty much shit his pants when he realized who Y/n was introducing him too. The Marvel junkie in him was going crazy. “Hey, buddy, nice to meet ya. Any friend of the Mitchell’s is a friend of mine,” Robert shook his hand, the pilot’s mouth a gape causing Y/n to chuckle and pat his back, “I think we broke the poor boy, Robert.”
Nat found herself having a drink with Carrie Ann Moss from the Matrix, who she was dressed as her iconic character. “Nice outfit,” the actress complimented with a genuine smile. Nat didn’t know how she managed to find the words to speak, but somehow said, “t-thank you. Wow um—it’s an honor.” Before she knew it the two women were talking with Carrie Ann telling her all the behind the scenes info of her most renowned sci-fi trilogy.
Fucking Serena and Venus Williams was there. Coyote just about had a heart attack and texted his mother right after meeting them saying, “You’ll never believe who I just met, ma.” He then proceeds to send the selfie they took to his family group chat. They were losing their minds just as he was.
Payback’s fan girl moment came when he ended up being challenged in a dance off with the one and only Janet Jackson. What made it better…he was dressed as Michael Jackson from his Thriller music video. It’s probably what had the singer challenge him when the song ‘Scream’ she did with brother came on. The costume Janet had involved a mask, so the man didn’t even know who he was dancing with until the song came to an end.
“Does he know that’s Janet?” Y/n came up to her husband, grinning at the sight. Mav shook his head, “I don’t think he does.” When the mask revealed the face hidden behind, Reuben forgot what the hell was even happening around him. “Holy shit,” was all he could say, grinning wide as she approached with a nod of respect, “You got moves, kid.”
Jake came up and slapped him on the back, “That was fucking awesome!” Payback was still in disbelief, exhaling with awe, “I just dance battled Janet Jackson…. while dressed as Micheal Jackson, to the song Scream by Micheal and Janet Jackson…I’ve won at life.”
Rooster, as usual, was the life of the party. A lot of the guests he already had the privilege of meeting years before. So one could imagine how stunned his friends were to see him nonchalantly shooting pool with fucking Dave Grohl from the Foo Fighters. “You’ve gotten better since the last time we played,” the guitarist chuckled when Rooster hit the winning shot.
“Ain’t no better place to become pro than in a Navy officer bar.”
“Guess you’ll have to teach me a thing or two now, kid.”
Beach days were reserved for dogfight football. Ever since that first time playing it the pilots couldn’t play it any other way. Hondo or Y/n would be ref and there would be times where the band would come out with their kids so they had more players.
“Ready….set…” Y/n blows the whistle and the balls are tossed to their respective quarterback. The speaker blasting music would muffle out due to the shouts and cheers, Y/n squealing when Mav would lift her over his shoulder whenever he scored. “Pete Mitchell put me down!” A slap to his jean clad ass would result in her being tossed in the water. “Hey! Oh you little—,” the pilot was yanked down, falling into the upcoming wave to the sound of his wife’s laughter.
Sometimes the dogs would join in on the fun at the private beach. It always ended with Rooster, Mav, and Coyote chasing after Goose and Ice, the mutts stealing the balls in the middle of the game. Sweet Bella was always on her best behavior, cuddling with the younger kids who opted out of playing. “Goose, get back here!” “Ice, now is not the time!”
Four days before the induction ceremony, Y/n gathers her ducklings to the home for their monthly barbecue. “Gather ‘round, ducklings,” she taps a spoon to her wine glass. “Gather ‘round.”
“The Queen has something to say,” Rooster adds when they take too long to circle the table, resulting in Y/n to lightly smack his shoulder in a motherly way. He feigns hurt, mumbling, “rude.”
The rockstar calls the attention back to her, “It has come to my attention that you all have made plans to watch the live feed of Saturday’s ceremony. Well, I have some news I’d like to share….” She gestures for Pete, who brings over a literal silver tray with eight black and red envelopes neatly lined up. Each envelope had the pilots callsign in silver sparkly lettering.
“Was this your idea?” she muses at the silver tray, Pete and Rooster grinning like children who were presenting an art project.
“We thought it was fitting.”
“You two,” she sighs though there is amusement in her tone. “When I call your name please retrieve your present. But don’t open it till I say so.”
“What did you do?” Nat accuses when she’s the first to receive the envelope. Lightweight in her hands, she examines it closely while the others get theirs, but does not open it like instructed. Hondo is the last to get his, taking his place back between Javy and Mickey.
“Consider this your holiday present from Mav and I,” Y/n leans into her husband when his arm goes around her. “We both split the costs—though I insisted it all be on me since It was my idea,” she looks at him with a knowing look.
He just kisses her temple, “You know I wouldn’t have let you when you already do so much, honey,” Pete looks at his pilots, “But we hope you all like it and accept the offer.”
“If this is what I think it is,” Jake starts to say, catching onto what the couple were implying. Y/n’s little indication of the ceremony is what really had him suspect. “Then I’m going to scream.”
Nat quickly catches on, gasping, “I swear to God, y’all better not have.”
“Better not have what?” Bob innocently looks at the couple, who were both grinning wide. Y/n couldn’t take it any longer and allowed them to open the envelopes. Sure enough Jake screamed, but it was more of a dramatic one. With him were Mickey, Javy, Payback and even Bob was shouting. Nat immediately embraced Y/n in a hug while Hondo did the same to Mav. Before long the entire group was in a big dogpile with the pups getting in on the hype.
“You guys are unbelievable!” Nat shouted amongst the chaos, double checking the papers to see they were in fact what they were. It was a ticket to the Rock ‘N’ Roll Hall of Fame induction ceremony taking place that Saturday at the Microsoft Theater “Wh-what!? How!?”
“I’ve had them ready since July,” Y/n told her, laughing at Nat’s jaw dropped expression.
“Thank you so so much!” Nat hugs her again after the guys express their words of gratitude, “I don’t think we can thank you enough—I mean you’ve already done so much for us. Now this!? Honestly I don’t know how we’ll make it up to you.”
“Don’t think about that,” Y/n assured, moving to the side when a play fight broke out between Mav, Rooster, and Jake with the dogs. “It makes me happy to do these things and that we get to share them together. You guys are our family now. Not just mine and Pete’s, but also the Romantics. And I would want nothing more than my whole family to be in attendance Saturday night.”
“It would be our honor,” Nat squeezes her hand, still in disbelief that she got to call the woman a friend and was privileged to experience things she never thought she could. When Saturday came Nat had to pinch herself. Sitting in the stands of Microsoft Theater with her best friends, dressed in a sparkly pantsuit and in absolute awe.
The squad was close to the stage but in the stands since the floor was where all the tables were. From their position, they could see Y/n and Pete with the Romantics and their managers. Front tables were basically reserved for the inductees. The year's inductee lineup was insane. Absolute icons: Duran Duran, Pat Benatar, Dolly Parton, Eurythmics, Lionel Richie, Eminem, Carly Simon, Judas Priest, Jimmy Jam & Terry Lewis, Harry Belafonte, Sylvia Robinson, Jimmy Lovine, Elizabeth Cotten, and Allen Grubman.
Those who had passed were to be honored by singers and the inductees present would perform. One by one the inductees were honored. Personal friends, fans, or colleagues gave speeches for the artist/group they were inducting. Dr. Dre inducted Eminem, Robert Downey Jr for Duran Duran. In between performances took place with the crowd on their feet and singing along to iconic songs that defined a generation.
Hearing Dolly Parton live was a moment they’d never forget. So many things could be crossed off their bucket list, including seeing Dolly Parton. Together they shouted the lyrics to ‘Sweet Dreams’ by Eurythmics at the top of their lungs, the guys rapping along with Eminem. Nat felt like a teenager again singing along to Pat Benatar’s ‘Love Is A Battlefield,’ & ‘Heartbreaker’. They rocked out to Judas Priest, Duran Duran, and Loionel Richie. Everyone was having a blast and then the moment they were all waiting for came.
To induct Y/n and The Romantics, the crowd screamed in joy when Ryan Reynolds approached the podium. At the table the band were in a heep of laughter already. It was fitting having the movie star induct them considering their songs were featured in the Deadpool movies and they made a cameo in Deadpool 2. Ryan was not only a big fan of the group but had become their friend.
“Hello, hello, greetings and salutations fellow rock n rollers,” he starts, the audience roaring around. Payback brought his thumbs up to whistle. “It’s an honor and privilege to be here tonight with you all, and it’s a mega blessing to be inducting this next group,” his attention lands on the Romantics, the cheers getting louder, “which is safe to say has been long overdue.”
“Damn right!” Rooster shouts, which actually catches Ryan’s attention, the movie star pointing in his direction with a curt nod.
“Now if you’re a child of the 70s like me and had your teenage years in the decade known for religious cults and a substance sharing the name with a popular soft drink,” he pauses at the laughter that rings out, coughing lightly before continuing, “then you should know who Y/n and The Romantics are.” Microsoft Theater rumbled with the reaction of the crowd. “If you don’t,” Ryan shrugs, “then you must be living under a fucking rock.”
The camera pans to the band, Y/n with a hand over her mouth covering the massive grin she had beneath. Her bandmates were just as joyous as they watched Ryan give his speech. “At just the ripe age of fourteen, these young cats hit the streets of Atlanta and sang tunes for all ears to hear. It was 1978. The Camp David Peace Accords was signed, the first IVF baby was born, NASA unveiled their first group of women astronauts, and Japanese explorer Naomi Uemura became the first to reach the North Pole. For a bunch of freshmen in high school, their lives changed when their rendition of ‘Cry Baby’ by Janis Joplin was heard by the right person passing by.” Ryan pauses once more to let the audience cheer, at the table Pete takes Y/n’s hand in his, giving it a loving squeeze.
“Though they released their first single on New Year’s Day of 1979, the new decade emerged with a new spice to rock music. It skyrocketed these kids to stardom with their unique sound and a frontwoman with a voice that sounded like an angel rebelled from God to become a rockstar,” Y/n smiled shyly when the camera panned to her, blowing a kiss before it went to her friends. “They were every rock n roll hater’s worst nightmare. With their leather and glitter, Y/n’s iconic split dye hair and swooning every person they met, the launch of MTV in 1981 made Y/n and The Romantics overnight sensations…. and the celebrity crushes of every young Hollywood heartthrob,” Ryan smirks, nodding with the hollars of the audience.
“The way people are when it comes to securing Taylor Swift and Beyoncé tickets, was the same for us trying to see The Romantics live back in the day. You can best believe seeing grown men and women cry when they were unable to get seats for the farewell tour. I think I even witnessed a fight break out in the ticket line.”
“Oh my God,” Y/n giggled, hiding her face in her hands. Glancing at her friends they had the same reaction: flustered.
“By 2002 The Romantics had sold over 150 million records worldwide and accumulated so many awards I can’t even list them all in this speech. I’ll just name a few: an Oscar for Best Original Song,” whistles and hollars sounded at his pause between each award, “twelve Grammy awards. Over a dozen in MTV Moonmen. Billboard’s Artist of the Year. The AMA Icon Award. Ranked number 15 on the Rolling Stone list of 100 Greatest Artists of All Time—cited as the greatest influence on rock music of the 20th century.”
Ryan adjusted his posture, “I can confidently say that when the news broke of their hiatus, hearts shattered across the planet—including mine,” he faked a voice crack, causing the audience to chuckle. “It felt like my parents were getting divorced—s-sorry,” he wiped away a fake tear, Y/n leaning over her chair in a heep of giggles. “It was an emotional time for me and fellow Romantics.”
“But though they were no longer releasing music their spotlight never dimmed. The members ventured out in other projects and started families. Fans might have recognized keyboardist Ronnie Jensen as Detective Josie Adams on Law & Order,” the camera panned to Ronnie, the woman throwing up a rock n roll gesture with her hand to the cheers. “If you look at the writing credits on some of the 2000s best hits for modern pop rock artists and groups, you may find the daughter of rock n roll's name at the top.” This time the camera went back to Y/n’s smiling face, the rockstar giving a nonchalant shrug.
“Oh and let’s not forget that if you watch any superhero or action movie you’ll hear ‘Thunderstruck’ on the soundtrack.” That had the crowd go wild. “And if you listen to ‘Highway to Hell’ while diving…nine times out of ten you will be pulled over for reckless speeding. Believe me, I would know.” Danny and Evan were capping their hands by how hard they were laughing, wiping away tears that brimmed in their eyes.
“Around this time two years ago we were at the height of a global pandemic. The world was shut down and there was little to hope for in those hard times. But one random day I found myself shitting my pants when the first thing I saw on twitter was The Romantics trending worldwide. I thought one of them had died honestly and was too scared to look as a panic attack arose until my lovely wife Blake slapped me and said, ‘they're getting the band back together you fool—stop crying and get it together.’ I then proceeded to faint for a different reason.” Ryan caught Y/n’s eye and he broke out into a laugh, forgetting what he was about to say next. “I-I fuck I’m sorry.” The audience laughed with him.
“T-their comeback album ‘In Rock We Trust,’ hit the the top of the Billboard hot 100 within minutes of release—going platinum in just a week. Their debut single, the title track, remained number one on iTunes for eight weeks straight and every radio station lost their minds. It’s no surprise they took home the Grammy once again for ‘Best Rock Album’ and ‘Record of The Year.’ And now 43 years after the release of their first single, they have finally earned their spot in the Rock ‘N’ Roll Hall of Fame.”
As the audience screamed the lights dimmed on the stage so the video montage could play for all eyes in the theater. Those viewing at home would get a full screen picture of the video while those in attendance all shot their eyes to the Jumbotron. Down below, stage crew motioned for The Romantics to get ready for their performance that would happen once the video was over. Y/n kissed Pete, the man telling her good luck as the band did the same to their loved ones before they all followed the stage crew to their positions.
The video montage consisted of clips starting from the Romantics first starting out at just 14 and 15 years of age all the way to present day. Watching them go from shy kids to rockstars selling out stadiums and racking up award after award. Some clips were of their music videos, others were celebrities gushing over the band, including Cameron Diaz and Ralph Macchio. “I love them so much,” a young Cindy Crawford said, blushing when she added, “I just wanna party with them and have a good time.”
“They are the band of our generation,” praised Molly Ringwald on the red carpet of the 1988 VMAs. “Seeing them perform tonight is gonna be the highlight of my life.”
Their songs played over the video showing a montage of the band's most iconic performances. One of which was the 1992 Billboard Music Awards where it was raining outside and they still performed. Y/n was completely soaked with her makeup smearing down her cheeks and hair in disarray, not to mention she was wearing a white tank top with no bra and leather pants. It made headlines with people and the media trying to degrade the rockstar. A clip with Diane Sawyer trying to humiliate Y/n played, showing the woman smirk as she shrugged and said, “why were your eyes there the whole time, Diane? Did I make you look at my chest? No, you and everyone else did that on your own.” The clip immediately cut to the Super Bowl Halftime show, regarded as one of the best performances of all time.
When the video ended, the spotlight shined back on Ryan and the cheers grew louder, “It is my honor to induct your Rock ‘N’ Roll Hall of Fame Class of 2022 members, ladies and gentleman gave it up for Y/n and The Romantics!!” Evan’s opening riff sent the crowd wild, everyone on the floor to their feet and the daggers whistling against the noise. Strutting up to the front of the stage, Y/n brought the microphone up to her lips and sang her heart, “Hey yeeeeahhhh, are you ready?” She smiled and winked at Pete.
“We be a guitar band. We play across the land. Shootin’ out tonight, gonna keep you up alright.”
”You hear the guitar sound, playin’ nice and loud. Rock you to your knees, gonna make your destiny.”
“In rock we trust, it’s rock or bust,” she belts the chorus, the audience singing with her. It was their first single back as a band, one that dominated the radio for weeks on end. The theater echoed with the final line of the chorus, “In rock n roll we trust, it’s rock or bust!”
After the song ended they immediately went into the opening of ‘Highway to Hell,’ which had the entire theater in a frenzy. “Livin’ easy, lovin’ free. Season ticket on a one way ride. Askin’ nothin’, leave me be. Takin’ everythin’ in my stride.” Pink was head banging, so was LL Cool J. Duran Duran were dancing with Y/n pointing at them before going over to the side of the stage where her ducklings were going crazy. “Don’t need reason. Don’t need rhyme. Ain’t nothin’ that I’d rather do. Goin’ down, party time. My friends are gonna be there too,” she shook her shoulders with each pound of Danny’s drums.
“I’m on the highway to hell!” Everyone screamed/sang. “On the highway to hell,” Y/n shook her head side to side. “Highway to hell.” Rooster whistled on the last line, “I’m on the highway to hell.”
“Y/n, you’re an icon!” Jake shouted, cupping his mouth with his hands. She must’ve heard him cause she laughed into the second verse.
The rest of the ceremony the energy was off the charts. The Romantics shared the stage with Duran Duran, singing their 1988 collab which had jaws drop and in absolute hysteria. All the inductees gathered at the end of the ceremony, all now official members of the Rock ‘N’ Roll Hall of Fame. It was truly a sight to behold.
The holidays passed with more celebrations. Before long the band were releasing more songs and an album at the end of the summer. By 2024 they were back on tour and this time the daggers would attend shows without telling Y/n to surprise her. They had really become a family in just the two years they’d known each other.
“Oh this is a great song,” Jake practically moaned at the opening chord of Kenny Loggins’ Danger Zone. He and the daggers were on the floor of the Staples Center, Y/n had spotted them not too long into the show and forgot her own lyrics cause she was so excited, “My ducklings are here! Ooh this next song is dedicated to them.”
Pulling on some aviator sunglasses to go with her camo pants and combat boots, Y/n shrugged on her husband's bomber jacket, “Revvin’ up your engine. Listen to her howlin’ roar,” she pointed a finger and drifted from side to side, “Metal under tension. Beggin’ you to touch and go.”
“Highway to the Danger Zone. Ride into the Danger Zone.” She shimmied her shoulders, “C’mon let me hear you!”
“Headin’ into twilight. Spreadin’ out her wings tonight. She got you jumpin’ off the deck. And shovin’ into overdrive. Sing it!”
“Highway to the Danger Zone. I’ll take you right into the Danger Zone.”
At the end of the song Y/n took the jacket off and threw it back over the railing to Pete, the man catching it in his hands, “Thanks for letting me borrow that, baby.”
That night of the show was just a few days before Y/n’s 60th birthday. She couldn’t help but awe when Pete and the squad came out with the band's families, their managers and crew with a small cake and balloons to sing ‘Happy Birthday.’
“You guys,” she wiped a tear away after blowing out the candles. Kissing Pete on the lips, she welcomed his hug and heard him say into her ear over the noise, “Happy birthday, baby. I love you so much—more than my P-51.” She threw her head back as she laughed, kissing him again before saying, “I find that hard to believe, Maverick,” she teased, kissing his cheek, “But thank you for this. You’re everything a woman could ask for.”
“Happy birthday, Y/n!” Rooster blows into the noise maker, placing a party hat on her head. The squad swarm around the couple, the confetti blasting into the crowd.
The moment felt like a full circle. Just two years prior Pete’s 60th birthday brought them all together. Now here they were celebrating her 60th, on stage with her friends, family, and fans. She really had it all.
But not to worry. There were sure going to be more memories and adventures of the rockstar, her husband, and their dagger ducklings.
………………..
TGM Tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan @caitsymichelle13 @poppyalice2001 @cutelittlepotatofry @luckyladycreator2 @americaarse @elenavampire21 @back-tooo-black @phoenixssugarbaby @gizmodear
#Spotify#pete mitchell x reader#pete maverick mitchell#pete mitchell imagine#pete mitchell x y/n#captain pete mitchell#dagger squad#dagger squad x reader#dagger squad imagine#Maverick x reader#top gun imagine#top gun maverick#top gun maverick fanfiction#top gun maverick imagine#rockstar!reader
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The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood
Series Summary: Lori "Babycakes" Tate swore she would never date a biker but when her life is in danger, she is put under the protection of a small club known as The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood. She suddenly finds herself attracted to not one, but five bikers.
A reverse harem, biker AU.
Part One Summary: After her parents death, Lori is back at the club she grew up in and finds herself being sent away with an attractive but completely unknown biker.
Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC, Walter Marshall x OFC, Mike x OFC, Geralt x OFC, August Walker x OFC
Word Count: Approx. 3.3k
Warnings:
Series Warnings:
Reverse harem, age gap (OFC 23, ages range from 23 to mid 40s), oral sex (male and female receiving), unprotected p in v sex, anal sex, group sex, masturbation, praise kink, mentions of body fluids, drug use, recreational drinking, sex work, criminal activities, mention of death, violence, use of weapons, mentions of war, mentions of abuse, angst, fluff, probably a lot more that I will add as they come up.
Part One Warnings:
Mention of death, drug use, violence, body fluids, slight angst, blink and you'll miss it implication of smut.
Authors Note: I've been working on this story for about nine months, maybe more? I keep thinking I'm going to forget about it, but it keeps worming its way back into my brain and the only way to purge it is to write it and post it, so I woke up this morning and decided fuck it, post it.
I have a heap of people to thank for discussing the story with me and for beta reading. Because it's been such a long process, if I have forgotten you, I sincerely apologise. So thanks a million to @amberangel112 @henryobsessed @littlefreya @nashibirne
I hope you enjoy it!
Divider made by me. Edited by me, there will be errors.
Masterlist
Parts Masterlist
Part Two
Lori
When I noticed the gathering started winding down and some of the out of state clubs began to leave, I was able to breathe a little easier for the first time in two weeks.
Although I thought it unlikely that the uneasy truce of a wake would be disturbed by anything more than a punch up, I still worried about it and the subsequent attention of the media and the cops. I had hopes that my face wouldn't be plastered all over the news, but it seemed a little unlikely given the scrutiny that the funeral had been under. I was under no illusions that my brother would escape unscathed.
Thinking of my brother made me glance at Nate.
I sighed; It was a good thing the media weren’t here now, and the cops were too chicken shit to try and breach the walls of the compound.
With a rolled-up $50 note up his nose and two women hanging off him, Nate was the epitome of the biker stereotype. His dirty blonde hair hung to his shoulders, his face was hardened and scarred, making him seem older than his thirty years, as did the tattooed cursive on his forehead just beneath his hairline.
Nate took his hit, throwing his head back and wiping at his nose. He grinned as he sniffed and handed the note to one of the girls. I could hear his snort across the room and above the thrumming beat of the dance music; his nostrils must be fucked.
From what I knew, he’d been like this for days, and although normally he tried to hide the extent of his drug habit from me, the fact he was openly high and allowing one of the girls to rub his crotch showed how far gone he was.
I’d like to think his behaviour was a one off, that it was his way of dealing with Mum and Dad's death. But I doubted it.
So much had changed since I last spent any time at the clubhouse to the point where it was almost unrecognisable. The common room used to be homey despite being in an industrial building; carpeted with soft sofas, plush rugs and sturdy wooden coffee tables. Now it was like a nightclub, complete with stripper poles, black and red leather sofas, smoky glass topped tables, and neon lights.
I hated it.
Crossing my legs, I started to get angry. I used to love coming here when Dad was President, seeing all my uncles and their families. Even memories of the sweets and sodas the guys used to sneak me behind my mother’s back wasn’t enough to calm my mood. Thoughts of the last few times I was here were too vivid. Seeing what my father and brother had become and the way my uncles had stopped seeing me as a little girl made me stop coming here about five years ago. It was also about the time Mum had finally decided to divorce Dad.
I’d had enough, seen enough. Nate didn’t even appear to be on planet earth anymore; he won’t notice if I slip out. I’ll just go home, have a long bath, maybe call Jake and invite him over.
As stealthily as I could, I got my bag and nearly made it to the small cut out of the closed roller door when a Prospect laid a hand roughly on my wrist. His fingers dug into my skin painfully and he pulled my arm with a short jerk, bringing me closer, until my body bumped into his.
“Hooks wants a word,” he said, all smug and grinning as if this idiot knew what Nate would want with me.
I didn’t know him, but I knew a million like him, and he thinks he knows me. He thinks I’m just another girl, one of the desperate groupies who hang around hoping to tame a wild biker or use them for drugs or clout. He obviously didn’t know Nate was my brother, or he’d never lay a hand on me.
Looking down at my wrist, I smirked before raising my eyes, letting as much of my anger seep through as I dared. I may have been out of the life for years, but I still knew how to play the game.
“I suggest you remove your hand, Prospect before…”
I didn’t get to finish my warning as a fist smashed into the boy’s face. His nose made a sickening crunch followed by a crimson spray of blood which splattered on the floor barely missing my heels.
The fist belonged to Hustle who was grinning like a Cheshire cat at the chance to expel some pent up aggression. He was Nate’s Sergeant at Arms, his enforcer, and my father’s before that. He loved a bit of a fight, but he wasn’t crazy, his violence was usually held on a tight leash.
“Fuck off, pup,” he growled. His eyes danced, obviously not 100% sober, but it was alcohol rather than drugs that Hustle preferred.
The Prospect held his nose and his tongue, but the fiery hatred that burned in his eyes couldn’t be hidden.
“Hooks wants her,” he managed to say, spitting blood onto the concrete floor.
“I’ll take her to her brother,” Hustle said, amused at the way the Prospect's face went white and his eyes widened. Hustle chuckled as the Prospect mumbled apologies to me and scampered away.
“Think he’ll make it?” I asked Hustle when he turned back to me.
Hustle shrugged, it wasn’t really his decision to make but being a senior member of the club, his opinion had weight.
“Takes a punch like a champ, that’s a good sign.” Then he smiled at me, “You alright, Babycakes?”
I mirrored his smile, I couldn’t help it; until two weeks ago no one had called me Babycakes in years. I had almost forgotten the nickname until I was suddenly and violently thrust back into this world.
The name had been bestowed on me when I was a kid. I had complained bitterly that everyone else I knew had a cool nickname and I wanted one too. I can’t remember who first called me that, it was probably Hustle himself. He was one of the few guys in the club I still trusted, he never made a pass at me as I grew into a woman, and that had meant a lot to me at the time. It still did.
“Yeah, I’m good. What does Nate want?”
“Dunno,” Hustle lied smoothly.
I rolled my eyes at him, and he shrugged again. He’d defend me against anyone, but his loyalty was to the club before anything and anyone else, including me.
“C’mon,” he said, putting a soft hand on my upper back and guiding me gently but firmly to my father’s old office.
The room was one thing that Nate hadn’t changed in the years since he’d slowly taken over Dad’s empire. The office was still clad in rich wood panelling, painted blood red, with black accents. Various memorabilia filled the room including a large fresco of the club’s Colours which drew the eye to the wall behind my father’s dark timbre desk. I remember when Dad commissioned it, he had been so proud to show it off.
Nate was standing near the desk, talking to another biker I’d never met before. I didn’t remember seeing him at the funeral, but there were a lot of out of towners there.
He was good looking enough, with close cropped hair, a scruffy dark brown beard and bright blue eyes that seemed intelligent but still had that familiar aura of danger that I used to think all men possessed. Physically broad and well built, he didn’t strike me as a guy who indulged in vices the way Nate and most of his club did. He seemed fit, if a little soft around the edges; he had the body of a strong man rather than a bodybuilder. His thick arms were visible below the sleeves of his black t-shirt, revealing black and grey tattoos of engines, flames, smoke and skulls. Memento Mori was written in cursive across his throat, though it was partially hidden by his beard. My Brother’s Keeper was etched along one forearm and Never Alone across the other, both in the same elaborate script and gaudy silver and gold rings encircled nearly all his fingers. He would make an imposing figure to anyone who hadn’t grown up with men like him.
His jacket was hanging on the back of one of the chairs in front of my father’s desk. I couldn’t place the colours, except of course for the 1% patch. He had to be from out of state, I knew all the clubs in Nevada, but I had never heard of The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood and the large wolf’s head howling at the moon was too recognisable for me to have forgotten a patch like that.
Out of Town nodded towards me as I entered the room. I thought I saw a flicker of recognition in his eyes; maybe he had been at the funeral after all. He seemed polite and business-like on the surface, but his eyes studied me intently, lingering briefly on my breasts.
To be fair though, his gaze was practically that of a gentleman’s in this world so I let it slide and nodded back to him before lazily flopping on one of the leather sofas, hoping my casualness would hide my apprehension.
“What do you want, Nate?” I asked, hoping I sounded terse rather than worried.
“I need to talk to you about some things,” he said, sounding surprisingly level-headed considering the copious amounts of drugs he’s been taking. The words ‘functional addict’ crossed my mind.
“I’ve been here all day, hell, I’ve been around for nearly two weeks. You’ve had all that time to talk to me, now I’m tired and I want to go home. Can’t we talk about it tomorrow?”
“The contact only just got finalised,” he explained.
“A contract?” I shook my head. “No. You know I don’t want to know anything about—”
“This contract is about you,” Nate interrupted.
I blinked and looked from Nate to Out of Town to Hustle and back to Nate. “Excuse me?”
“For your protection,” Nate added.
“I’m not in the life, I don’t—”
“Neither was your mum, Babycakes,” Hustle said softly.
I felt a sudden chill at Hustle’s words. I could believe that in my brother’s drug-addled state he was being overprotective, or plain paranoid, but Hustle wasn’t prone to exaggeration.
Hustle had loved Mum and not in a way that was disrespectful. He seemed to admire her, respecting her fidelity and steadfastness. There weren’t a lot of women like Mum in the circle’s Hustle ran in. Most women wanted to play the bad boy game, they liked the danger of a biker, the excitement of an untameable man. Love was rarely long term, and Hustle knew that as well as anyone after three failed marriages.
It wasn’t just the women who didn’t stick around, most of the men couldn’t keep their cocks in their pants. Even Dad had been known to screw around on occasion while he was still married to Mum. It was the life and it was another reason I avoided it.
“You said she was collateral damage, you said she wasn’t a target,” I said to Hustle, unable to keep the accusation of dishonesty from my tone.
“New information has come to light,” Nate responded and I turned my ire towards him with a glower. He raised a finger at me and continued, “Specific threats against all our families. Most of the guys have already moved their women and kids out of state, and since I don’t have a woman or kids, the threat is on the last of my family. You.”
I knew where this was going now. The past two weeks had been intense and not just because of my parents death. Everywhere I went I needed permission from Nate and if he did let me leave, it was with Hustle or one of the other senior club members. I thought it was because of the cops or media attention.
“Fuck.” I dropped my head into my hands.
It’s not the first time I’ve had to leave the state. Hell, once a few years ago, Mum and I had to go to Canada and stay with a friendly club up there for three months. Anger boiled in me, I thought I was out, free from this shit. I should have known better, no one ever truly leaves the life.
“How long?” I asked.
“Until the threat is eliminated,” Nate said matter of factly. I could have smacked him.
“Fucking hell!”
“I’m sorry, Lori.”
I looked up at Nate. He never apologised and although it seemed genuine, it didn’t diminish my anger. He obviously felt guilty about something and I wondered how much to blame he was for what was going on; how badly he had fucked up? However, the appearance of regret in Nate’s eyes was fleeting, and he became cold and business-like again.
“This is Syverson,” Nate pointed to Out of Towner, “His club specialises in protection. You’ll be going with him to their clubhouse just outside of Dallas and waiting it out with them.”
“Texas? Across half the fucking country? Come on, Nate, really? I thought you meant New Mexico or California.”
“It’s where I live,” Syverson finally spoke up.
His voice surprised me. He was a southerner and his drawl was subtle but it was there, and his tone was soothingly deep.
“We take long term protection cases back to the clubhouse. It’s secure and well fortified and more guys to share the load,” Syverson smiled at me. I suppose he meant for it to be reassuring, but it came across as patronising.
“You’ll leave tonight,” Nate said. “All the clubs leaving is good cover; no one will notice another biker and his old lady heading out.”
“Wait, we’re going on his bike? To Dallas? That’ll take a week!” My thighs and hips groaned at the prospect. That’s a long time on a bike and I haven’t ridden that far in years.
“Three days, if we make some headway tonight,” Syverson said and like a mind reader he added, “We’ll stop plenty to stretch your legs, sugar.”
I raised my eyebrows at ‘sugar’, but Nate didn’t blink. Hustle gave him some side-eye that Syverson caught but ignored. That was interesting. Despite never hearing of him before, for Hustle to let it go meant this guy, or his club, or both, had some serious clout.
Looking at the three men I could see no way out of this; my shoulders slumped and I gave up. My parents were dead, my brother was a criminal and a drug addict, and I was being pulled back into a world I thought I had left behind. I wanted to cry, but I knew I couldn’t show any sign of weakness, so I stayed angry instead. I figured it would be better to give in and go with Syverson and try to worm my way home later. I knew Nate well enough that if I tried to fight him he wouldn’t be above handcuffing me to Syverson and basically allowing him to kidnap me.
I looked again at Syverson. He stared back at me, not trying to stare me down like a lot of bikers do, but as if he were trying to show me he had nothing to hide. His eyes didn’t waver as they held mine, no sign of shifty glances, no sign that he wasn’t who he appeared to be. He was either trustworthy or an extremely good actor. Not even my brother could look at me like that.
“I’ll have to go home, pack and change,” I said, waving a hand over my black dress. There was no way I could get on a bike in my tight pencil skirt and maintain any dignity. “You’ll let me do that, right?”
Nate grinned and nodded. “Hustle will drive you home in the van, Syverson will follow, get you packed and then you’ll leave tonight.”
Gritting my teeth I dipped my head to Nate. He returned the gesture and I saw again the brief look of guilt in his eyes. I glanced at Hustle, but he was already walking out the door.
I followed Hustle and Syverson through the clubhouse and got into the van, barely registering what was going on. I had too many thoughts in my mind and I was already mentally making a list of what to pack. I knew I’d have to pack light, bikes weren’t exactly ideal for hauling luggage.
I clenched my fists in frustration as Hustle drove out of the compound. Three days on a bike, plus God only knows how long I was supposed to be at the clubhouse. There was no way I’d have enough space for all the clothes and other things I would normally take like books, my laptop and my hair straightener.
I sighed heavily and looked out the window. It was already dark and I was a little hungry, but my anger and nervousness masked most of the pangs I felt in my belly.
“It's going to be okay, Babycakes,” Hustle said, confidently “The Club’s been through shit like this before and we’ve come good.”
“Back when you had Dad,” I pointed out, “He always had a cool head for situations like this.”
“Hook’s is up to it.”
“Yeah? Think he’ll lay off the coke long enough to think rationally? It was probably something dumb he did to get the Club in the shit in the first place.”
“Babycakes,” Hustle said with a warning tone in his voice.
“Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me he didn’t fuck with the wrong guy or get too greedy. Tell me exactly why I’m being shipped off?”
“You know I can’t tell you that.”
“Of course not. I’m just a fucking mushroom y’all keep in the dark and feed me shit.”
Hustle chuckled and I stared daggers at him, crossing my arms and raising my eyebrows.
“You’re cute when you get angry, Babycakes.”
“Fuck you,” I growled, but my lips twitched and I had to suppress a grin, Hustle was just too damn likeable.
I stared out the window again and saw in the side mirror that a single headlight was following us. It must be my ride.
“What do you know about him?” I tilted my head towards Syverson riding behind us. “Do you know anything about him?”
“Supposedly ex-military, but that's just a rumour. They're all supposedly ex-something, but…” Hustle shrugged.
“No one knows?”
Hustle shook his head.
“Do you know anything about the club, The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood? I’ve never heard of them.”
“Not much, except that they’re small, selective and secretive. They’ve got a good reputation, powerful despite their size, specialising in protection and a few other things.”
I nodded slowly. It didn’t make sense to me that a small nonaffiliated club from halfway across the country would take me in. Always before when I was sent away, it had been to a branch of my fathers club, or one they were heavily associated with. It must be costing Nate a fortune for the club to work with him.
“It’s bad isn’t it, Hustle?” I asked softly, feeling a small spike of fear working its way into my gut.
“Just do what they tell you to and you'll be fine, Babycakes.” Hustle laid a gentle hand on my knee and gave me a fatherly pat before putting his hand back on the wheel. “They’ll take good care of you. They’re to be trusted.”
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𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄
: ̗̀➛ word count: 11.3k
: ̗̀➛ pairing: levi ackerman x reader
: ̗̀➛ notes: our favourite sneak peak is in this chapter guys :))) but i also need to address something about the taglist. if you are currently on the tag list (or will be in the future) if you ever have the intention of changing your username, you must let me know right after you’ve changed it (and also tell me what your previous username was). this is so that i can change your name on the taglist with ease without having to wonder why it doesn’t work when i haven’t been told that your user has changed. i can’t go through the hassle of trying to figure out what your new name is as it’s time consuming and a waste really (because i usually don’t manage to find the name in the end). that’s all, hope you enjoy this chapter!
: ̗̀➛ summary: ranked as number 38 of the southern division for the 104th training corps as of now, you’ve lost all motivation to continue your journey on taking back number ten, your rightful position that would have (for sure) impressed captain levi. the commandant has taken note of your drop in skill and takes matters into his own hands, regarding your favourite higher up, of course..
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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
today was a bad, bad day.
and the day after that too.. and the day after that also.. you were in dire need of some comfort, but found none; it wasn't all too surprising when you really thought about how you were now sat at number thirty-eight, no where near your rightful spot at number ten. could you help yourself? no. could someone else help you? potentially. perhaps the company of captain levi praising you for ranking thirty-eight for the southern division of the 104th cadet corps — instead of making random remarks at you like he had during the exams — might cheer you up?
but even that sounded quite unrealistic.
his expectations were high, you didn't need a genius to help you comprehend that. you'd heard things about him before you had even met him: that apparently he had his own squad handpicked by himself, that supposedly all of the members included ranked from numbers 1-10 during their own cadet corps, that maybe there was only one female out of the entire group (which hadn't bothered you then, obviously, for you didn't even know the man) and it did not bother you now either, not when you were benched at the corner during your hand-to-hand combat training due to unleashing your rage at reiner who (though jokingly) made a comment about your current position.
which ultimately led you to have marco now at your side, rubbing your back soothingly and lightly scolding you for your actions.
"what did he say that made you explode at him like a ticking time-bomb?" marco asked you gently.
you did not answer. your eyes were trained solely on the figure of reiner who was rubbing his backside in pain, his mouth moving as if he was talking to someone, but you were unable to lip-read. the sight almost made you chuckle. almost.
"hesaidihadpotentialorsomethingidunno," you mumbled lowly.
marco coughed, confused. "i didn't get that."
you sighed exaggeratedly, leaning away from marco's touch to grumble under your breath once more, begrudgingly.
"i still didn't quite catch what you —"
"he said i had potential!" you snapped, wincing when you realised just how wrong you had been. still, you were angry, and unfortunately for the blonde brute, he had been in your way.
expecting another more firm scolding, or even a carefully crafted lecture, both of which you never received, you turned your gaze to glare at marco instead, pondering on why he was so silent. he did not cower under your gaze like others might, instead, it was almost as though he was relishing in it, a lazy smile plastered over his delicate features that practically screamed you (in a gentle manner) 'no-i-am-not-scared-of-you'.
your gaze softened at the sight.
"it was a praise," said marco, finally, "what was so bad about that?"
"he was laughing!" you argued defensively, mildly shocked at marco's reaction. it was almost as if he was teasing you. "and you are too."
"i'm just surprised," he corrected, hands raised in mock surrender. "i mean, for someone who's been complaining about being so tired for the last couple of days, you sure flipped him over your back without a struggle."
you scoffed.
"and he weighs a lot, too," he added, pinching your cheek (in response, you threatened to bite his finger off).
so marco wasn't entirely wrong. you walked around the grounds of the training corps as if you were a ticking time-bomb, a count down representing just when you would explode again, but worse.
you'd heard what the other cadets had been saying, and although it would not usually bother your happy self, now it was more annoying than ever — it irked you to no end. still, you kept your silence, choosing to stomp around and keep your anger buried well inside you like a rotting body in a coffin. however, this did not keep it hidden.
there was one particular day where everyone had been gathered at the mess hall eating their lunch. it had just struck noon and you found yourself hungry.. but not for food. you didn't exactly know what you were hungry for, but on this day, you (and everyone else around you) became well aware of how aggravated you had become, and you pinned that all down on when ymir had grasped your shoulder in a particular manner that had you moving backwards and forwards against your will, to praise you.
"i know i told you to slack off a bit, but you were really committed, huh?" she laughed, clapping you on the back encouragingly. your front jolted forwards, stiff. "thanks anyway!"
"haha, yeah.." you sheepishly laughed, watching as she marched away from you (you could have sworn there was a little skip in her step), "you're.. welcome.."
the boiling fury wasn't present then, obviously, but it made its appearance not long after.
and that's when the whispers slyly travelled to your ears.
marco and jean both had spent quite some time trying to get you to sit with them and eat, but by their tenth (or was it the fifteenth?) try, they had given up, letting you be. so you found yourself walking around the mess hall, swallowed up by your thoughts, a moving vexation to anyone near. you had circled the hall more times than you could count, but after a particular number of circles, someone at the table had spoken up. not to you, of course, they wouldn't be stupid enough to do that (not when no amount of discipline could keep you in check) but about you.
"has anyone noticed how pissed y/n's been?" you heard connie lowly ask the table.
you tried not to look, keeping your head straight and eyes downcast, continuing your walk.
"have you only just noticed?" you heard a more womanly voice respond: immediately, you were aware that it had belonged to sasha. her question was then followed up by the sound of cutlery clashing against each other, and then lots of protests after that.
"shit, sasha, you didn't have to hit me for that!"
sasha ignored connie and went on to say more about your newly adopted attitude. "she wakes up early just to sit and glare. i thought it was because of extra training, but —"
"y/n and extra training aren't compatible," jean countered smoothly.
"but i remember her training on the grounds in the morning with you and marco not too long ago," said a lighter male voice: armin, you could tell. "or maybe my memory's not serving me right —"
"you should give yourself some credit, you saw correctly," another voice added, and this one pissed you off: eren. you had been holding quite a grudge against him since the stupid thing he pulled during the exams.
"bold of you to assume that she came willingly," jean replied, and that was followed by many murmurs of agreement.
"she's just angry," said marco.
"i'll say," a deep voice commented: reiner. he sounded way too amused for your liking. did he need to be taught another lesson? "the little lady can fight."
"i'm holding that against you forever," chortled connie, and the rest of the table was now laughing, but you could also hear that reiner was too, a deep chuckle emitted from his chest. "she showed you —"
"if she can do that to reiner, just imagine what she could do to you," said sasha, but her voice was extremely muffled. you came to the conclusion that her mouth was full.
"jokes on you, i'm not on her bad side!"
idiot, you thought, knowing that everyone was currently on your bad side whether they had spoken to you or not.
"for your own sake, i hope none of you are," commented jean, and as much as you hated him entertaining this conversation, you appreciated how he was correct.
"hypocrite," you heard the stupid green-eyed boy voice. just the thought of his smug face made you want to punch something.
"not again," sighed armin.
"what did you just call me?" jean shot back. for once in your life, you were siding with him.
"you heard me," said eren, the idiot being unable to back down, "you're always on her bad side!"
"yeah, and wanna know where that got me?" jean challenged loudly. "cleaning horse shit, that's where. you should be grateful i'm even warning you about it, jaeger. you're not on her good side either."
"what did you do?" a cooler female voice asked: it sounded to you like mikasa. you figured that she was directing the question to eren.
"nothing!" proclaimed eren.
the urge to turn around and swing your arm at his neck was growing more tempting, equivalent to an itch at the spine you couldn't exactly reach. how dare the little punk lie about what he'd done?
on instinct, you whipped your head over your shoulder, glaring daggers at the particular table at the centre of the mess hall that housed all the people that thought it was okay to talk about you as if you could not hear them despite their low voices. sasha yelped when you had made eye contact, connie began coughing profusely, jean (though his back was to you) had stiffened up, shoulders raising in tense movement, marco was gulping down large amounts of water, mina was fixing her hair (though you noticed there was actually nothing to be fixed), franz kefka began laughing shakily, armin began playing with his food, nac tias turned away, eren's ears went pink, and reiner and bertholdt were now conversing in a conversation that had little to do with you — although you noticed how their eyes would dart back to you every once in a while. mikasa was the only one being normal.
you turned away, continuing your walk, but keeping your ears open.
"way to go, idiot," you heard jean curse, "now she knows we're talking."
"how is this my fault?" demanded eren, offended.
"shout a little louder, won't you?" jean snapped. "it's not like she's only a few feet away from us —"
"isn't it your job to calm her down?" a bemused sasha asked, her voice lowered by the plate on her face. when you looked, you caught sight of her snacking on the crumbs left over. "i mean," she began, slamming the plate onto the table dramatically, "what kind of a friend are you, huh? oh, not you, marco. i meant horse-face —"
"you don't see me calling you potato girl every time!" exploded jean, scandalised. "so quit it!"
"to answer your question," intervened marco, nervous, "even though it's not for me, y/n has a good way of pissing jean off in ways that even eren can't —"
"stretch," commented jean, bored.
"okay, so maybe not as much as eren —"
"you talk about me like i'm not right in front of you!" exclaimed eren, and the urge to leap across where you were currently standing to strangle him to death had only grown at the sound of his loud voice.
"i'm gonna punch you," jean threatened, and then you heard multiple voices of protest over eren's own challenge of 'oh yeah? bring it on'.
commotion was now sounding from the mess hall; it wasn't helping the little voice inside of your head urging you to throw a tantrum worthy of shaking away all the attention from the eren-and-jean drama to focus on you. so, angrier than you had been when you first walked in, you stomped away, making little attempt to create the loud noise from the meeting of your heel and the floor, yet it sounded anyway, some people turning around and watching you instead of the rowdy table at the centre of the room.
only, the second you had passed the double doors, your forehead clashed against the rough harnesses belonging to someone who was tall enough to tower over you. groaning as you took a step back to rub your pained head in annoyance, you opened your eyes to find the culprit you were willing to hit, only to be met with your arch-nemesis: keith shadis.
of course it had to be him. it just had to be him to be the one hurting you some way or another, and it only irked you more that he had managed to do it in your lowest moment.
you knew you couldn't raise a hand against him. after every single problem you had fallen into, none of them would amount to this if you even tried to make them. even on your weirdest days, you knew better than to attack the commandant (even if you had an entire plan made at the back of your head where you were sure never to be caught).
"what did you do this time?" he asked, sounding so confident that you were the cause of the argument behind you.
that made you smug.
he was wrong.
"it wasn't me," you told him coldly.
"i've heard that more times than i can count," he responded, glaring daggers at you, "and not once has it ever been true."
okay.. fair, you thought to yourself reluctantly. still, at least now he truly was wrong.
and then an idea rose to your head.. a brilliant one, one that would have your victim begging for your forgiveness, knowing never to mess with you again.
"it was eren," you stated quickly, attempting to form the most honest face possible.
the commandant regarded you with little emotion, raising a thin brow at you so that the lines on his forehead became much more prominent. you fought to keep your face truthful.
"jaeger?" he said skeptically. "what did —"
"he was going to start a fight," you informed him knowingly. technically it wasn't a complete lie, it was half the truth really.
"with —"
"with jean."
"biased."
"no it's not!" you argued, almost, nearly stomping on his foot in fury. you didn't, of course, knowing better. "when have you ever seen me side with jean, huh?"
he looked up, eyes searching the ceiling above you as he delved deep into thought. you waited impatiently, scanning his shrivelled up features in a silent fit of rage. could he take any longer?
he looked back down at you, shrugging. "i suppose not.. like the odd thing you are, you don't ever seem to side with your own friend when he's in a mishap with that jaeger."
you smiled, radiant and true. he wasn't lying, of course, for every time jean and eren would begin arguing — in order to piss your friend off a little more, for the sake of it — you would always cheer eren on at the back; he also thought it was weird, you could tell from the way he would scrunch up his brows at you at the end of everything without actually saying much, but you didn't seem to mind. so long as you got to see jean and that funny pout he'd make when he was annoyed at you, you were content all the same.
"i can tell you what happened from beginning to end," you announced proudly.
keith raised a hand, a gesture for you to halt.
"you won't even get to the end with how much you crap you spew," he said, and you found yourself frowning at him, contemplating whether to fart in his face once more (to remind him just who he was talking to) or leave him be. you decided on the latter.
that did not mean you wouldn't show him some attitude, though.
you pushed your chin in the air, hands clasped behind your back as you stepped to the side to leave.
"stop right there, scum," he ordered, and you obeyed, halting in your place. he continued. "stay here while i sort this shit out. move an inch and you'll find yourself cleaning again."
you said nothing, eyeing him blankly. he waited, as if expecting you to do something. very well then, if that was what he wanted, and you liked a bit of a challenge, too.
you raised a hand, your pointer finger lifted, and poked the air.
"are you hard of hearing?!" he shouted, the mess hall going quiet. it seemed that the cadets in there had finally caught on to his silent (well not so silent now) presence. "i said, don't —"
you poked the air again.
he shook his head, sighing to himself.
"what was i expecting?" you heard him grumble, before you were left with a bit of ringing in your left ear after he parted his bottom and top lip once more. "JAEGER!"
you grinned. now this was a sight you yearned to see.
turning on the spot, you revealed the smug look on your face, met with the bewildered looks plastered over the faces of every single cadet surrounding the rowdy table at the centre of the room. several people began scattering away like a herd of sheep in a farm. at the middle of the once-present huddle, were jean and eren, both standing side by side, yet looking out of breath.
when jean had made eye contact with you, he looked as though he was about to be sick, a type of green coating the expanse of his pale skin. you rolled your eyes: it was obvious that he was assuming that you were on eren's side and attempting to get him in trouble with keith again.
stupid jean.
"GET OVER HERE," keith demanded. you stepped away, silently cursing at whoever gave this man a voice louder than a rooster.
eren hesitated.
"TODAY!"
with a sideways glance at his two best friends, eren swallowed down any form of anger he had left in him and held his head high, walking over to the commandant and forming the salute position.
"sir."
keith, with both his hands clasped behind his back, walked forward so that he was almost nose-to-nose with the brunette boy. you watched in glee as eren was met with the sight you had been faced with a million times. this was a taste of what he basically had you go through previously. stifling a chuckle, you pursed your lips when you saw eren grimace.
"WHAT WERE YOU DOING, BOY?"
you could sit back and watch this all day. it felt relieving watching someone else other than yourself getting in trouble.
"i was.." began eren, who seemed to be struggling to find the right words.
he hasn't got a clue in the world, you thought, satisfied. with keith, nobody was right but himself (how narcissistic of the bald bastard), but it worked in your favour in this very case. poor eren is under the impression that there's some sort of answer he can pull out from the abyss where keith would release him, where keith would accept it and he could go about his day again.
he couldn't be any more wrong than now.
"WHAT, JAEGER? YOU WERE WHAT?"
patience also wasn't something that keith possessed.
you had cursed this fact multiple times, but for once, it tasted like honey on your deprived tongue.
"i —" stammered eren, growing frustrated with himself, "i was defending myself, sir!"
"defending?" repeated keith, and there was something about the lowered tone of his voice that unlike everybody else, you recognised.
you knew keith like the back of your hand. if he was beginning to grow agitated, you would know. if he was delighted (though it was a rare occasion) you would know. if he was exhausted, you would know. if he was feeling merciful (again, a rare occasion) you would know.
so unlike everyone else, all of whom were expecting him to let eren be without a punishment — you'd heard nac tias whisper just now about how 'jaeger got lucky' — you became well aware of what was going to happen to eren.
and you were beyond ecstatic.
"how could you possibly be defending yourself, jaeger," started keith, face hardening like stone, "IF YOU WERE THE ONE WHO STARTED IT?"
the look on eren's face was enough to have you slap a hand over your mouth to prevent a single sound slip; if only you were as good of an artist as jean was, you would have begun drawing his face right now, have it hung on your bedroom door to look at every morning.
his muscles had softened, eyes going hazy and distracted, jaw un-tightening, lips parting, brows un-knitting.. before they went back to being more firm again with only one difference you could note: his fists were clenched.
"but i didn't —"
"I HATE LIARS!"
and before eren could even begin to explain himself, keith strode forward and grabbed eren by the back of his neck, forcing him to walk along with him as he lead him to the exit of the mess hall right where you were residing.
as they made their way past you, you and eren had made eye contact, one where you could see the fire burning behind his viridian eyes, and he could see the light shining behind yours: he was well aware of how fucked he was now, and you thought it was best to rub it in his face even more.
so, leaning back against the wall, you winked.
or tried to, at least.
the thing was, you were good at everything you tried.. apart from winking.
it was a gamble, really, choosing to do the one thing you could not do in a victorious moment like this. your wink came out more like a hard blink or so, perhaps something even worse (judging by the confusion written all over eren's face as he left, his lips silently moving: you read it as 'what is she doing?').
"yo, why's your eye twitching like that?" connie called out from the distance.
"fudge," you uttered under your breath, facing the crowd of people now staring at you.
"your eye," clarified connie, pointing at you, "it was —"
"i was winking!" you interrupted, disgruntled.
"that's your wink?" he asked, and he did not give you time to respond before he began howling with laughter, clutching onto sasha's arm to prevent himself from falling.
you stared at him, a neutral face with no emotion. his laughing went on for what felt like hours before sasha shoved him off her and he fell. sitting himself upright (still laughing) he choked when he met your gaze, holding his mouth and practically pinching it.
"i'm not — i'm not laughing —"
"liar. he totally was," sasha helpfully commented.
it seemed as though he had realised the severity of his actions. tough luck for him, then.
"you're next," you threatened icily.
and as the mess hall began going back to normal — with a few glances at armin and mikasa, both of whom did not seem angry (like how you expected them to be) — jean and marco were back by your side, one more brooding than the other.
"i'm at loss for words," said marco, shaking his head. "i can't believe —"
"i can't believe it," said jean, expressing his surprise by placing a hand on your shoulder and gripping tight enough to crease your ironed jacket. "you sided with me, for once. thanks."
you shrugged his hand off you, scowling at him. "i didn't do it for you," you revealed, scoffing.
jean blinked.
exchanged a blank look with marco.
and then blinked again.
but then he began smiling, and he looked disgusting doing it. you wished you had some sort of magical ability to wipe the smirk off his face. no wonder he's got no bitches, you thought, grimacing at the way his brows began wriggling at you.
"yeah, sure," he said, too confident for your liking.
"stop making that face," you told him firmly, "you're gonna make me eye-vomit."
jean didn't speak to you for the rest of lunch.
not that he could even if he wanted to anyway. for keith had returned not long after and gave you an earful for moving away from where he had left you. growing annoyed at your life once more, you left him to shout at nothing when you stomped out of the mess hall, ignoring his calls of your name for you to return.
but he was that persistent, you were actually surprised.
usually, you were able to accurately predict the commandant's next move, mainly because you had become familiarised with everything he would do. yet today, somehow, you were wrong. assuming that he would punish you later for ignoring him, you were left with your mouth opened agape when you heard a pair of footsteps following you out of the mess hall. perhaps it was another cadet who had finished their lunch..
wrong.
because he was still calling after you.. and threatening you too.
you turned around, a hand over your eyes to shield yourself from the intense gaze of the sun, staring at the tanned man with narrowed eyes, blinking profusely up at him.
"let me make this CLEAR," he started, furious, "KNOW YOUR POSITION, SCUM. AND POSITION NUMBER THIRTY-NINE SHOULD, IF ANYTHING, LESSEN YOUR CONFIDENCE!"
you stayed silent. or opted to, at least, because holding your tongue was never an easy task for you.
"actually, it's position number thirty-eight," you corrected, disappointed at his stupidity. "get it right."
"big difference."
"well, actually, i believe —"
"i don't have time for opinionated statements," declared keith, sniffing loudly. no grace and decorum, clearly. "even more so that they're coming from you."
"if you're done insulting me, kei—"
he had straightened up, almost daring you to finish the last two letters. you knew better than to end up like eren, of course.
"i'm willingly here to talk to you for a reason, you little shit," informed keith, staring down at you in a way that you knew would make little krista shiver and cry. "i'm not impressed."
you waited.
and waited.
and then could wait no longer.
"er.. what do you want me to do about that?"
"I'M NOT FINISHED!"
"all right, geez man, it's not that personal," you quickly mumbled, stepping back because at this rate, with how often your ears fell victim to the constant yelling, you were positive you'd go deaf in your mid-twenties (and that's if you're lucky).
"YOU, CADET L/N, COULD HAVE DONE MUCH BETTER THAN NUMBER FOURTY!"
"it's thirty-eight —"
"WHY ARE YOU SLACKING?" he demanded, the whites of his eyes dominating. "HAVE YOU GRADUATED YET? WHAT REASON IS THERE FOR YOU TO RELAX?" keith took a deep breath in and used it to form his next statement. "you dropped thirty places —"
"twenty-eight places, actually —"
"SHUT IT!"
you pursed your lips apologetically, allowing him to continue.
"the scouting legion might accept anything after ten but I. DO. NOT!"
you raised your eyebrows. there were many things about today that had you spiralling in confusion. yes, your ranking is definitely not the best, but you had been watching the commandant carefully (not for the reasons anyone else might be thinking, like watching for trouble) and you had yet to see him approach a cadet who had gotten much lower than you and scold them like now. what made you the exception?
"well that's inevitable," you defended yourself calmly, "someone has to be past ten. after the first ten positions are taken, everyone else is automatically placed past ten, what would you do then?"
"YOU ARE NOT WORTHY OF A POSITION PAST NUMBER TEN, MAGGOT!"
he was shouting praises at you, now? were you to be flattered or offended? were you to cry or laugh?
"er.. thanks?"
"extra training, four in the morning tomorrow, on the training field. do not be late."
"four in the — but i didn't agree to this!" you exclaimed, scandalised. "but that means i get no sleep at all.. regular training starts at eight!"
"TOUGH!" spat the commandant, shrugging. "it depends on just how nice your trainer is."
you pondered for a moment. "that means it's not you then, is it?"
"do you honestly believe, in your right mind, that i would lose an extra three hours of sleep, for you no less?" he questioned, and now fully paying attention, it did make sense, for the enmity between you two was not unrequited after all.
you responded by shaking your head, expecting him to say something after that. when he didn't, you decided that you would ask him about your queries.
"so who is training me?"
"another higher up," he responded vaguely.
you frowned. "yeah, but who?"
"do not chase him away."
you blinked, raising a brow at him skeptically. one, how did he even come to that conclusion? and two, he had completely disregarded your previous question, answering another that you had not even been curious about. unlucky for him then, because you could tell that he desired nothing more than for you to shut up; he had only piqued your interest, resulting in more questions fired back at him.
"why would i chase him away?"
"do you really want me to answer that question?"
"why else would i have asked it?"
"it's a massive jab at your damn ego."
"i don't have a big ego! you're the one who —"
his glare, if possible, had hardened even further. perhaps it wasn't the right time to pick a fight.
you cleared your throat awkwardly.
"do i know this person?"
"what's his name?"
"have i at least seen him before?"
"have i ever been reprimanded by him?"
"what's his —"
"IF YOU DON'T KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT, CADET, YOU'LL WISH YOU HADN'T EVER STEP FOOT IN THE TRAINING CORPS!"
you gave him the dirtiest look you could muster, and that threat was not correct at all. for one, you would never back down without a fight, and secondly, it was because you had decided to join the training corps that you had seen captain levi, something that you would never regret, so no amount of fear or punishment could drive you to that wish.
could keith be any more wrong today?
he usually always was wrong when it came to you, but the numbers had increased significantly after this conversation.
without a second word, keith had decided that he had had more than enough of seeing you today, and turned away, marching down the field and into the mess hall. you had decided that he was probably going to torment the other kids now, partly because you had put him in an even more sour mood than usual: you felt no remorse when you heard yelling from a distance. the cadets had really annoyed you today, too.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
you woke up just before four in the morning to freshen up as you usually would do.. but earlier.
mumbling curses and profanities, you made your way over to the training field. it was empty, despite it being four o'clock sharp. typical. whoever your trainer was, he had no regard for etiquette, clearly. you could have decided to come in late, too, but decided otherwise. how hypocritical.
you settled yourself against the brick wall beside the double doors belonging to the mess hall, head tilted back as you gazed up at the night sky. sunrise had not arrived yet, so the stars were still present, glimmering and glittering where they sit against the clouds, dark as the colour of his hair. you wondered whether he was also watching the same stars as you were now, the thought bringing a warm and gentle fire to light up at the centre of your chest where your heart hid behind. the fairy-tale suggestion made no sense, of course. it was four in the morning, he was most likely asleep right now.
you became envious of the fact that you could have been sleeping right now, had it not been for your commandant and his petty rivalry with you.
distracted and dazed, the one thing that pulled you out of your stupor (and the way in which your eyes had been super-glued to the sight above you) footsteps could be heard approaching from in front of you somewhere, the heels of someone's boots clashing against the concrete floors. you averted your gaze immediately, met with the sight of your trainer..
it was instructor claude duvalier!
keith had really gone out of his way this time, it seemed, for the instructor standing before you governed the northern division of the 104th. you were residing at the southern division.
however, before you could say anything as you pushed yourself off the wall, his neutral expression formed into one of horror at the sight of you.
"you?" he cried, looking outraged, scandalised, and betrayed all at the same time.
you were going to politely introduce yourself, before he began shaking his head, taking several steps back. you, on instinct, began taking those same number of steps forward, confused.
"they never told me it was you i had to work with!"
well that wasn't very nice, you thought, beginning to grow agitated and galled.
"well i don't wanna work with you either, then!" you announced, folding your arms over your chest as you sneered at him.
"i don't care!"
"neither do i!"
"he told me it was a 'cadet who was capable'!"
you raised your eyebrows, offended. "you think i'm not capable?"
the instructor was now a great length of distance away from you. he tutted. "the ranking speaks for itself —"
you don't know what came over you, but your eyes flashed. blinded by red, you stomped over to him, furious and indignant, ignoring the look of panic flashing across his features.
"well let me speak for myself," you threatened, getting no where because he dashed away the second you uttered the final word. you contemplated running after him, but thought against it, already fatigued and breathless.
keith was going to give you an earful in the morning.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
"i thought you'd be tired."
"why?"
"you had training today, didn't you?"
".."
"..didn't you?"
"y/n —"
because exams had finished, the timetable had gone back to its usual, dull schedule, and jean, marco, and y/n were currently sitting in the classroom answering practice questions that had previously appeared in their exams. they weren't just any questions of course, only questions that that all cadets commonly got wrong.
"what did you do this time?" groaned jean, who had actually been focusing on the work for the first time. ever since the exams, there had been a new glint in jean's hazel eyes: you chalked it down to being a newfound determination to one-up marco on the list of rankings. because of that, during the classroom sessions (which had been revealed was his weakest) he would keep his head down and only look up to subtly join the conversation between you and marco, answer questions from the teacher, and — perhaps — insult you here and there.
you scowled, wishing that marco wasn't sandwiched in between you so you could kick him. the seating plan used to be different: you used to be placed in between jean and marco, but it had become clear that you and jean could not stop fighting, hence distracting the entire class and annoying your teacher. so, naturally, you had been forced to migrate to a different table, a different seat. this hadn't happened once, of course, because you had somehow managed to distract people everywhere you went. with little patience and a whole lot of tiredness, your teacher finally came to the conclusion that only marco could bring some form of peace between jean and you, which resulted in you reuniting with your friends, but marco separating you.
"i hate how you assume i'm to blame," you told him, brows closing in on each other as you leaned forward into marco's side to speak directly to jean.
jean lifted his pen up to continue writing, eyes trained on his question paper as he spoke. "because when is it not you?"
"now," you answered, irate, "honest!"
"i don't think she's lying," said marco, helpfully. "so what happened, then?"
you re-told the story in one simple sentence.
"he ran away from me."
you did not appreciate the way jean did not bother hiding his laughter. at least marco was biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from even smiling, but jean made absolutely no effort to stop laughing. you had the inexplicable desire to scrunch up your own question sheet and throw it in his open mouth.
"only you," sputtered jean, barely recovering from his rude laughter, "only — you!"
the class had ended not long after, and as you all packed up ready for your break time, you noticed eren (who had been sitting a couple rows up in front of you) looking back and sending you weird looks. you'd seen him trying to catch your eye beforehand too, but ultimately ignored him. you had no doubt in your mind that it most likely had something to do with how you had gotten him into trouble the day before. had it been anyone else, they would have backed off by now, not try to annoy you even further. what will it take for this guy to learn his lesson?
you had been the first to finish packing up, standing behind your tucked in chair as you waited for your slow friends to hurry it up already. however, the drumming of your nails against your chair had come to a halt when your teacher had called out your name abruptly. you lifted your head just the slightest bit to show him that you were listening.
"commandant shadis has called for you."
quiet sniggering sounded around the room; jean had started it, which encouraged others to continue it.
"he's waiting outside for you."
good, you thought to yourself as you walked out of the classroom, thankful, because when he begins to shout at you, at least it won't be in the presence of everyone else.. excusing the fact that they would probably hear him regardless.
sure enough, there he was, standing in his usual straight posture that made him look as stiff as a board. he did not look too pleased, either (not that he ever did, to be fair).
"sir!" you stated, doing the usual salute, a closed fist over your heart with your other arm resting against your back.
"i'm going to ask you very politely," began keith, sounding as though he was containing himself like he would explode if he didn't at least try, "what the hell happened?"
would playing dumb work?
you supposed not.
you decided to stick to the truth.
"he ran away from me."
keith blinked, seemingly tired. you noticed something new about the look on his face, however, as if he wasn't at all too surprised with this information, as if he actually believed you without a doubt, something that he had never actually done before.
his hand came up, and you actually had to think whether he was going to strike you down in anger, but waiting for the blow was useless, especially when you saw that his hand was pressing against his own face, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he shut his eyes tight, the lines pulling at each end of his eyes to emphasise his age.
after what seemed like ten dawdling years, the time in which people were now exiting the classrooms, he looked back down at you, sighing. "did he say anything before he ran?"
they never told me it was you i had to work with!
"yeah," you said, nodding. "he was quite rude, actually —"
"in the report he gave me," interrupted keith, exasperated, "he mentioned how you threatened him —"
"i have no regrets."
"WELL YOU SHOULD!"
you didn't know what else you expected but to be yelled at. you winced nonetheless.
keith sighed loudly, reminding you once again just how dramatic the male species was.
"i've found you a new trainer," he informed you firmly. "do not chase this one away, do you hear me? unless you want to end up back in the stables again for a longer period of time, cadet, i suggest you FIX UP!"
"so.. who's my trainer?"
"find out tomorrow, four in the morning."
"but —"
"ARE YOU DEAF?"
"already on my way there with how much you scream in my ear," you grumbled to yourself, walking away after giving him a much more lousier salute.
you hoped this new trainer would actually stick to being your trainer, whoever they were.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
you were most definitely not an early bird by any means. if you had any opportunity to sleep in, you would take it without question. hell, even if you weren't allowed to sleep in, you'd do it regardless of the consequences. it had come to the point where a higher up would have to pour water over your face to get you up and running (there had been a time where you had pretended to be in a very deep sleep, even when it was pretty obvious that no one would be able to sleep through keith's bellowing).
but here you were, up and early, strict on four o'clock sharp as you paced up and down the training field. you had admired the stars merely five minutes earlier as you had nothing to do. perhaps this would have been a little more enjoyable if you were accompanied by jean or marco (you would never let jean know that this had ever come to your mind anyway — everyone knew his ego was higher than his ridiculous height). the mere thought of him made you want to spit on the poor ground.
but four o'clock sharp was definitely valued by your new trainer, a man you had never seen before. he appeared through the dark shadows of the trees that were illuminated by the light the moon gave off to create colossal shapes of blackness over the grass.
exhausted as you were (for you had woken up before four in the morning twice in a week now), you did not bother asking the man who he was, what his occupation at the training corps was, what he ranked during his time here. you simply could not be bothered to, fatigue shown in your face and body (your posture has never been more worse).
so, you went straight for it, asking him what he expected you to do and how to do it.
"so, teach, what am i doing first?"
he was a bit of a buzzkill, you had decided, for he quickly reprimanded you for calling him 'teach'. and not saluting, too.
"twenty push-ups!" he demanded, voice raised yet not loud enough to penetrate the walls hiding the area where the rest of the cadets were peacefully sleeping behind (you envied them so much).
but just because you were tired, that did not mean that you would stand for getting into trouble first thing in the morning (before regular training even begins, that had to be a world record, right?).
"i never did anything wrong, why should i do push-ups this early? i'm tired."
looking thoroughly surprised and irked, the man rose his bushy brow up to reveal the lines on his forehead. it looked like lined paper, and you had an odd sort of desire to simply write over it: buzzkill teach.
"pardon you?" the trainer coughed, brows furrowed to form a deep crease in between.
you froze.
had you said that line out loud?
judging from the stiffness of the man's body and the way in which he was now placing his hand over his forehead told you the troubling answer. you wanted to kick yourself. you apologised several times, but he was simply not having any of it. moments later, he ordered you to do five laps around the field. normally, you would groan and show your dislike for such a tiresome exercise, yet you felt terrible about that comment you had accidentally made, that you silently went for it without complaint.
not for long, though.
one and a half laps in and you were dying, throat constricting and lungs practically collapsing. your legs came to a stop, chest burning for air, heaving forward and back as you took in deep breaths. buzzkill teach had spotted your halt, and had several things to say about it.
he came forward, demanding that you start running again even if one of your legs fell off. he insisted that you leave it behind, even. well that sounded ridiculous to you, and you being you..
well you had to express it. you just had to.
"that's stupid," you stated. "if one of my legs get detached from my body, i'll sue you."
"you'll what?"
"sue you," you repeated, rolling your eyes. "did you not hear me the first time?"
"push-ups, NOW!"
"no."
you were growing really frustrated with buzzkill teach, particularly when he had begun shouting at you not even half an hour later for some reason.
"you think i wanted to be here?" he began, when you had refused to climb up a tree. apparently it was a survival technique or something. "i'm the only one that agreed to train you knowing that it was you, everyone else refused!"
you blinked up at him. "was that supposed to evoke sympathy from me?"
he let out a loud growl of frustration.
you were growing to dislike this man; you knew, deep down in your heart, that you were spiteful with people that you disliked (just look at keith). so, when he had revealed that the first thing you would be properly training for would be hand-to-hand combat -- seeing as he was 'scared' to let you approach odm gear for odm training -- you felt the light from the moon radiate against your skin, allowing you to glow with glee.
"don't do that," he said, as soon as he caught sight of you grinning. "it frightens me."
you tried stopping the curl of your lips, but it was simply inevitable.
you held so much dislike for this trainer of yours, buzzkill teach, that you knew you could vent it all out on HIM through hand-to-hand combat. he probably was not alerted of how good you were at it. although he was a professional (more qualified than you, that was for sure) you eyed his physique, and his mannerisms, and the way he behaved, and the odd stance he took before you fought him, and you knew that this one was certainly in the bag.
you won. of course you did.
and when he was on the floor, you did not stop, pulling him closer to you by the collar and narrowing your eyes at him.
"you look good with that black eye," you told him.
training ended very quickly after that, and when you waved goodbye to him, referring to him as buzzkill teach, he did not reprimand you for it at all.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
keith was not happy with you the next morning.
still, he insisted that you wake up at four in the morning tonight, claiming that he had found a new trainer for you.
"are you pulling these trainers out of a hat or something? how do you find so many?"
"get out of my office."
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
when your alarm had woken you up mercilessly, you felt groggier than usual as you secured your harnesses over your shirt and shoved your arms through the sleeves of your smooth jacket. it was only once you had passed your bedside table again to look for a hair tie, you knew just why: it took you several moments to realise the mistake you had made, blinking at the time that read 3:30am.
like a fool, you had set your alarm (by mistake) to wake you up thirty minutes earlier than expected, leaving you an extra thirty minutes to do absolutely nothing. that time, you realised, could have been best used for some extra sleep.
sighing to yourself in frustration, you aggressively shoved the hair tie into your front pocket, mentally noting how you would wear it once it was time to go out. right now, you had lots of time to spare.
eyeing your bed with a look of desire, you contemplated just lying back and resting your eyes, but decided not to in the end. you knew where it would lead you: in a deep slumber, snoring just like sasha was across the spacious room. you would kill to be in her position, face squished against the soft pillow and body hidden beneath the thick covers.
you became envious very quickly, and whilst you had been wallowing in your self-pity, you had lost track of time. the next time your eyes wandered over to your clock, all you five senses had become buzzed in alarm: it read 3:58am — it usually takes a bit around five minutes to make it down to the training field from the barracks.
jumping off your bed with little regard for the noise you were making (had sasha just turned over on her bed?), you dashed out of your room, heels smacking against the sleek wooden floors as you made your way down the corridor to the training field. perhaps if you took off sprinting, you would make it there in less than five.
heart pumping, with a new stitch forming in your mid-section, you leaned a hand against the wall outside, catching your breath. when you looked up groggily, you were sure your eyes were deceiving you. maybe you had somehow hit your head on the way down here, or maybe you were hitting the next stage of crazy, but was that your new trainer? the little man in the distance, looking irritated and as though he would want to be anywhere else in the world but here?
your husband, levi?
what was going on?
but you couldn't dwell on it any longer, because as you made your way closer and closer to him, he directed his infamous scowl towards you instead, a small crease formed in between his dark brows that were knitting together the longer his stormy, grey eyes were on you.
"you're late," he informed you, clicking his tongue disapprovingly.
really? you thought to yourself, unsure. "what time is it?" you asked, and you were thankful that your voice sounded steady despite the internal conflict going on inside your head.
he threw something at your chest which you (on instinct) grabbed with your hand, pulling it up to your face to examine. it was a pocket watch, and it read 4:01am.
you raised a brow at your lover, turning the pocket watch over so he could see what sight you had been previously met with.
"it's been a minute," you told him when he had remained silent.
he regarded you with little emotion. "a minute too late."
"it's one minute —"
"you're still late —"
"fashionably," you corrected, gesturing to your clothes.
the captain's eyes raked over your body, and you flushed despite yourself.
"the uniform is a requirement," he stated not long after.
you nodded. "fair point, but have you seen the way some of the cadets here wear it? it's all scruffy. what's their excuse when i'm up four hours before regular training and i still clean up nicely?"
he seemed too tired to even argue with you on that, opting to give you a dirty look instead. you smiled nonetheless, which he casually chose to ignore.
"you turn up even half a second late tomorrow, and i'm leaving you here alone. understood?"
you said nothing: he glared at you.
you still said nothing: he exhaled shortly.
"what's wrong with you? you need to take a shit or something?"
you shook your head.
"then what? hurry it up, we're already behind."
"you do realise that i sleep here, right? so you can't actually leave me behind if i choose to —"
"it's an order."
you shrugged. "i have free will."
he tilted his head sideways to regard you with a look of something between annoyance and tiredness. even without the light from daytime to help you decipher the calculating look on his face, you could still see the gears turning in his head, rotating as he stared not even at you, but as if he was staring straight through, directly through your own soul. if he wasn't who he was, you might have been a little intimidated.
"free will to disobey orders?" he challenged, not exactly pleased but not exactly harsh either.
you took this time to stall, slowly, leisurely, and steadily placing the pocket watch he had handed you in your back pocket. his eyes kept darting from you to something else, you could not tell what it was, but you hoped that he hadn't spotted you skilfully stealing.
he seemed to have decided that talking to you was a mere waste of time, for he promptly turned away and announced that you had to run three laps around the wide field as a warm up; you choked on your own spit.
"why aren't we starting with stretches?" you asked, startled. "we always start with stretches —"
"are you questioning my orders?" he interrupted icily. despite the fact that he was facing you, back against one of the colossal trees, it was as if he wasn't actually looking at you.
you exhaled, defeated. "no."
"no?"
"sir," you finished, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.
perhaps it would be better to see the brighter side of things, like you usually chose to do. captain levi was not keith, so there would be no reason to defy his commands. furthermore, he was captain levi — you'd do whatever he asked even if it was to lick mud off his boot.
so, smiling, you spent the next twenty minutes or so running around the training field, the sky barely turning even a single shade brighter as you continued. every time you looked up, admiring the stars and the very precise placement of each one against the smoky clouds, you'd hear the captain bark at you to focus, he event went through the trouble of calling you an imbecile, too. how nice of him.
after half of the second lap was complete, your legs wobbled, and an annoying stitch was beginning to form at your side. had it been anyone else from the 104th, they would have continued running even if one of their limbs had fallen off, but you had more self-respect than anyone.
so you dropped to the floor, stomach flat against the concrete with your cheek resting against it. he wanted you to complete three laps? what a joke. you loved that man, truly, you did, but this was only proof that you needed to spend more time together. he clearly did not know you well enough as he truly believed that you were capable of completing that monstrosity of an order.
the concrete felt cool under your skin, a scarce contrast to how warm your body felt. if only you could just lie here forever —
but a force was now pulling your head up by your hair (and it was not gentle at all). before you could even let out a groan of protest, there was a voice in your ear, deep and familiar.
"what do you think you're doing?" captain levi demanded, harsh.
you shut your eyes, wanting to feel the coolness against your cheek again. however, when you tried to drop your head, you felt a sharp pain tug at the roots of your hair: the captain was still holding on for dear life, it seemed.
"i can't do it," you admitted, still trying to lower your head. "three laps is too much."
he did not miss a beat when responding. "and that's why you're nearly at the bottom of the ranking list."
you raised your head, turning to look at him with a frown. you had not realised just how close he had gotten, so when your eyes had lifted to stare up at his, you noticed how he had leaned back ever so slightly. even so, you replied as if you hadn't noticed.
"thirty-eight," you said, begrudgingly. "that's not near the bottom —"
"anything below ten is near the bottom," he declared, pulling on your hair as if to drill the thought into your head through painful discipline.
you yelped, a hand flying up to grab at his — which was extremely unrelenting, you had to add — to ease the pain. not even a second later, he loosened his iron grip, your hair slipping through his fingers as you dropped. you awaited the pain that would come when your skull crashed against the hard ground, yet it never arrived.
instead, your forehead met the soft palm of captain levi's hand, a protector, a barrier, even, between you and the concrete beneath you.
you laid there for a moment, unmoving. you expected him to leave you there, removing his hand, yet it seemed that he had no intention to, for he remained, perhaps for a minute or so, before slowly taking his hand back. slowly, maybe, to warn you that your head would be meeting the ground again: you raised your head to help.
"could have given yourself a concussion," you heard him say, and the sound of shuffling that filled the next few seconds of silence told you that he was standing now, now longer crouched over you, "idiot."
"i could have lost both my legs, actually," you corrected, staring up at him. he was glaring, as per usual. "and it was because of your order, making me run three laps —"
"which you haven't even completed," he interrupted, arms folded over his chest with a sneer on his face. "you have half a lap to go."
"but —"
"stop wasting time."
so, reluctantly, you got up, dusting yourself off (he tutted when all that dirt came flying off your clothes with each pat), and you completed the last half of your laps.. not without some scolding, though. every time you began skipping instead of running, he would make very.. creative.. violent threats about what he would do to you. on one occasion, you actually laughed when he said he'd break your legs and use them as blades for the coming-expedition.
isn't it just so cute when your husband wants to show you off to everyone? you thought so too.
the second you reached the finish line of your three laps, he could not let out a single syllable before you dropped again, spent.
"are we done yet?" you sighed, exhausted.
"it's only been.." he began, but paused, as if realising something. the scowl he wore the entire time you had been here had turned to something worse. "oi, where's my pocket watch?"
you tensed; you hoped he did not catch you looking guilty.
"i've got a stitch in my side," you complained, praying that he would not notice the way you were attempting to change the conversation and direct his focus elsewhere. "hey, can you give me a massage?"
"like hell," he scoffed, annoyed. "now give it back."
you sat up, legs outstretched and elbows holding your weight. you grinned.
"give what back?"
"you know what."
"really?"
"don't act stupid."
"it's not an act."
"i have never met anyone who proudly admits to being stupid."
"well now you have."
"shocker," he said, and something about the tone of his voice told you that he was finally giving up. "i'm so surprised it's you."
you observed his perfect face.
"i don't even know if you're being sarcastic or not," you revealed truthfully, lifting an arm up. he raised a brow at your hand but made no movement to touch it. "help me up?"
"no."
"buzzkill."
"what did you just call me?"
you laughed, at last deciding to stand up on your own.
"so erwin told me you're always so unbothered —" you told him, as if telling a story.
"when did you get time to speak to him? —"
"and hange mentioned how you basically never react," you continued as if you hadn't heard him, "and all it took was being called a 'buzzkill' for you to be offended?"
"no, you brat," he denied swiftly, "you refuse to give me back my pocket watch."
"i don't have it," you lied, looking over your shoulder dramatically. "it must've fell when you made me do those three laps —"
"are you blaming me?" he asked, as if challenging you to a verbal contest with a higher up.
you looked him in the eye. "karma's a real female dog."
his eyebrows actually rose up at that comment, the first sign of real emotion you had seen from him today.
"did you just state the definition of 'bitch'?"
"i don't swear," you answered, clearing the confusion if there had been any. "it's improper and not very lady-like."
one brow of his raised higher than the other.
"you care about being lady-like?" he questioned, as if it were something supernatural and unbelievable.
your brows began knitting together, looking up at the captain with offence.
"why wouldn't i?" you questioned, folding your arms over your chest.
but it seemed that the captain had no interest in indulging in such a conversation with you.. or indulging in any conversation with you, for his usual scowl deepened and his posture (if even possible) straightened further.
"correct me if i'm wrong, but i've been told hand-to-hand combat is your forte."
"mhm," you hummed, nodding. "i've taken down guys that are much bigger than me."
"i don't doubt that," he replied, calm. "you already disarm people verbally."
you raised your brows.
"i don't know what that means."
"doesn't matter," he commented, "do you think you could handle fighting against me?"
you blinked, almost completely stupefied at the question. usually you were the one rendering people speechless with your questions and statements, so it had completely shocked you that you found yourself in that position other people were usually in: at loss for words.
you knew why you were hesitating, though, unlike everyone else who had once been in your shoes. captain levi wasn't that tall, though you could tell he had a nice build under all the clothes he was wearing, but size really did not matter, not when you (much smaller than reiner) managed to flip him over your back with ease. after all, facts quite literally prove that captain levi is humanity's strongest soldier. if size ever mattered, then the many titans he had managed to slay would have never been killed under his watch.
but, foolishly, you pushed the statistics at the back of your mind, smiling as you answered him.
"yes."
he raised a brow. and for once in your life, though you enjoyed the night in a way no one else could, you wished that it had been slightly brighter — you could have seen the look in his grey eyes, then.
captain levi thought to humour you for a bit. "what makes you so confident?"
you shrugged.
"i've only ever heard that you were good at fighting titans."
"you think you're a challenge after the titans?"
"no," you responded, "but you need odm gear to finish the titans off, don't you? hand-to-hand requires no weapons."
captain levi did not look impressed, nor did he look unimpressed with your response. he was a closed off book with a lock preventing any form of penetration, therefore you were unable to read him and understand what he means when he says such vague things, or even when he stands idly by, offering no reply to your thoughtful comments.
"ok," he settled on saying, his shoulders lifting slightly in what looked like a half-shrug.
and then you found yourself on the floor mere moments after he had declared that you fight him. you went easy on him, because there was no way you could actually bring yourself to injure your special man, yet it seemed that he did not hold the same regard for you.
"are you even trying?" he spat out, exasperated. "there's no way you were able to take down people that possess ten times your weight with that."
you were on your feet quicker than you had ever been. perhaps you ought to actually try this time.
"you didn't let me marinate my advances yet!" you complained, turning away from his watchful gaze. "i have to stretch before i do anything."
he kept his gaze set on your back, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "are you going to go out in the real world and tell your opponents to halt the fight just so you can stretch?"
whilst stretching your arm, you craned your neck over your shoulder to eye him blankly.
"why wouldn't i?"
he pinched the bridge of his nose with his eyes shut, a crease forming between his brows where they closed in on each other, almost as if he had completely given up with you.
"stretch, then," he ordered, enervated.
when you were done stretching (the time in which you tried to gain his attention with more obscene movements — he did not go through the trouble of stopping himself when he asked if you keith had taught you those; you stopped angrily) you faced him once more, both of you taking your positions.
"ladies first," he had said, aloof.
"well apparently i'm not so lady-like, and you have very nice feminine features, so —"
he threw the first punch. it landed directly on your nose. you stumbled back, surprised.
"ow!"
but you had no time to complain, because he was charging at you again. you prepared yourself this time, grabbing onto his arm that swung at you with both hands and then kicking him in the stomach. he let out the smallest of grunts, which told you that you weren't doing too bad, before you went in for a second kick which he stop by grabbing your raised leg with his free hand.
there was only one solution then:
with both your hands occupied by that one arm of his, and your one leg held in his free hand, you decided you would bend yourself backwards so he would go flying over your top.
it worked, of course, but he had a swift landing, unlike everyone else you had competed with. that did not mean that he hadn't stumbled ever so slightly.
because he did. and then he turned around. and you knew what you would do then.
you ran at him, practically tackling him to the floor, and you landed on top of him, with a victorious look painted over your face when you caught sight of the baffled expression painted over his.
you straddled his hips, laughing at his startled face. you would have preferred it if his hands were placed on your hips, but instead, they were spread out on either of his sides, like the arms of a literal star.
you grinned. "did i win?"
the disconcerted look on his face had since then been replaced with a look of annoyance.
"no," he stated, putting emphasis on both letters in that single word.
you sent him a look of defiance. "that's not playing by the rules!"
"there are no rules," he shot back, visibly irritated. "now get off of me."
begrudgingly and reluctantly, you clambered off of him, sitting beside him as he sat up, dusting himself off.
"the floor is disgusting," he stated, grimacing. "you took me by surprise."
"no one's ever just.. floored you?" you asked, curious. he shook his head. "not very smart. it's my go-to move."
"why?"
"'cause the reaction is funny."
"well your hand-to-hand is fine."
"just fine?"
"don't push it."
"sorry."
he stood up, glaring at the floor.
"we don't have to work on that then."
and your heart dropped. it was the only part of training where you could actually find a reason to touch the captain without refusal. if you did not train for hand-to-hand, then you would not be able to touch him ever again.
a light bulb rose over your head, clicking on the second you had started planning. if you were bad at hand-to-hand, that meant that you had to keep practising regardless.
so just pretend to be bad at it.
"round 2!" you declared excitedly, standing up and placing both your hands on your hips.
captain levi had already decided what his thoughts were on that. "no."
"why not?"
"it's a waste of time, you already know how to —"
"one more time!" you pleaded, stepping forward. "one more time!"
and that was how you found yourself on your back, staring up at him with pain shooting up your spine. you did not play it lightly like you thought you would need to, because he was relentless either way.
captain levi clicked his tongue in distaste.
"you're doing it on purpose."
"huh?"
"i should've known."
"i'm confused."
"when are you not?"
you blinked up at him, baffled as your chest heaved up and down. nobody told you that the captain was that good at hand-to-hand, and now you had to pay the price, spine burning with pain and stomach flipped over in exhaustion.
he stood over you, the pool of grey in his eyes darkening in realisation.
"get up," he demanded icily.
"help me up," you shot back, lip curling.
his eyebrows rose, and for the first time, you saw the tiniest bit of emotion protruding from the man you knew to be void of any feelings. he scowled, eyes narrowing as he nudged your leg with his foot.
"are you aware of just how annoying you are?" he asked you, still as monotoned as ever.
you laughed, taking him by mild surprise.
"not annoying enough to have you ignore me, apparently."
and you noticed, with satisfaction blooming in your drained body, how he did not bother denying it.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
i made my promise that i'd return in june, didn't i? :)
all characters belong to hajime isayama, apart from y/n, who i've inserted into the story myself.
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#levi ackerman#levi ackerman fluff#levi ackerman oneshot#levi aot#levi ackerman x reader#levi attack on titan#levi snk#levi x reader#levi x y/n#levi x you#attack on titan#captain levi x you#captain levi#aot levi#snk levi#captain levi x reader#SOANO#start of a new obsession
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Part two of yandere big bro Eren let's say reader has a secret boyfriend and one day Eren sees them on a date.
soft yandere!older brother!eren yeagar hcs (part 2) + how he reacts to you having a secret boyfriend [platonic]
TITLE: " LEARN YOUR LESSON " — navi. part one.
A/N: this took me so freakin long, i am so sorryy ToT i just got back from visiting my grandma, who's not doing so good. life can be rlly unexpected but i'm back baby!! the ending is kind of rushed bc i totally word vomit all over these hcs and can never find a good ending point lolol :( so idk sorry if it's just not that great. i hope u enjoy it anyway!
PAIRING: soft yandere!older brother!eren yeager x little sister!reader (platonic)
CHARACTERS: eren yeager (19), reader (15), reader's boyfriend (16)
☆ it's not often you meet guys your age—or anyone at all, really—inside of the little section of wall maria you live in with eren. after your disaster of an experience at the corps boot camp, you find that the trauma of attempting to befriend people has yet to leave you.
☆ you can't really recall ever making friends with anyone when you were younger; in fact, the only people you could actually consider friends are armin and mikasa, but even they get stonewalled by eren if they hang around you too often. you still don't understand why he's like that, but his overprotectiveness seems to have bred your tendency to be incredibly sneaky. now that's something you can thank him for in the very near future.
☆ of course, though, eren is naturally your closest "guy friend." you tell him everything, he's been there for everything, and he probably knows you better than you know yourself at this point. however, there is one thing you'd rather not talk to him about: your love life. you pretty much had no female influence in your life except mikasa, who somehow had even less capability of showing affection than eren, and what little memories you had of your mother were now fading into obscurity.
☆ your near non-existent social experiences leaves you lonely. you're at the age where romance should be the peak of your explorative endeavors, yet you don't have a single romantic anything under your belt. the thought of being lonely forever makes you sulk, but the day you receive an unfamiliar knock on your front door is the day you meet the end of your demise. it's the new boy from down the street.
☆ eren had stepped out to get some groceries for dinner, so that left you up to your own devices for a little bit. usually he told you to never open the door for anyone who knocks because 1.) he has a key, and 2.) if it's not him, you shouldn't be talking to them, period. something about him being concerned you'd get taken advantage of or kidnapped or murdered—he rambled on about the possibilities for like thirty minutes, you recall. anyway, it would be rude to not answer the door while someone is home, so you did the unthinkable: you opened the door.
☆ and standing before you was quite possibly the cutest boy you had ever laid your eyes on. he's a head taller than you with dark eyes and ash blonde hair, his lean form clad in modest yet stylish apparel. you're both frozen in place, staring at each other with varying degrees of embarrassment. you're suddenly all too aware of your homely pajamas and unkept hair—frankly, you assume he must think you're the ugliest thing he's ever seen.
☆ "uh, um.." he stumbles over his words. "i'm lukas roth. i, uh, just moved into the house that's, like, over there." lukas points to the once vacant house that sits at the very end of your block. renovations for that house were put on hold for so long that it remained abandoned for years, so it was surprising to hear it was finally moved into. excitement wells up in your chest at the prospect of a potential new friend.
☆ "hi, i'm [y/n]!" you stick a hand out for him to shake. "welcome to shiganshina." lukas stares at your hand, face flushing red as he moves to grab it. his hand is large and warm and you're totally internally freaking out at the skinship. you're basically holding hands! though as quick as it happens, it's over, and lukas is back to looking frazzled. he honestly looks like he wants to run away.
☆ "my mom wanted me to give the neighbors these." he sheepishly pulls out a bag of brightly decorated sugar cookies from behind his back, "uh, i hope you like them..."
☆ you're literally ascending. graciously taking the bag of confectionary treats from him, you excitedly begin to engage in conversation, completely disregarding your former shame of your disheveled appearance. he seems to loosen up after a bit of back and forth, thankfully.
☆ your small talk ends abruptly when you hear a woman's voice calling for lukas down the street. he bids you goodbye with a charming smile and promises to visit you again sometime (he stresses the "only if you want, though..." very shyly). the grin on your face is telling and you, of course, welcome it with vigor.
☆ as if on cue, eren emerges from the opposite side of the street. there's no time to duck back inside as he's already spotted you, and he immediately looks like he's going to chew you out with the way a dark look passes over his features.
☆ "who was that?" eren asks, glaring holes into the back of lukas's head as he walks down the block to his own house. "don't talk to weirdos when i'm not home. didn't i tell you not to open the door if it's not me?" you roll your eyes at his annoying demands and step aside so he can come in. he's carrying a bag of vegetables judging by the stems of green onion that peek over the top.
☆ you wait until lukas disappears from your view before you shut the door completely. you gush through a brief recount of the short conversation you shared with him, clasping your hands together excitedly. you even tell eren about how he asked to hang out (which you regret almost immediately after he sends you a sharp, unforgiving look). it just that you've never heard someone say that to you like, ever, so it's only natural that you can hardly contain yourself.
☆ now wait a minute, he asked you to what? eren watches with an exasperated deadpan as you practically float around the room in bliss, the cutely ribboned bag of sugar cookies with pink frosting dangling from your hands. he knew this part of your adolescence would come at some point, just not now. as much as he hates being the bad guy, there's no one else around who'll "crack the whip," so the speak. especially when it comes to boys and dating.
☆ "you're not hanging out with that boy, [y/n]." eren sets the bag of groceries down on the kitchen counter then leans against it with his arms crossed. you open your mouth to argue but you can't even get a breath in before he cuts you off. "no. that's final. you hear me?"
☆ you sit through dinner mumbling under your breath, but eren pays you no mind. is he being irrational? well, he doesn't deny it. a lot of things he does may seem irrational, but there's always a method to his madness. eren knows how boys are at your age and if they're anything like he was, they can only pursue you romantically over his dead body.
☆ as he expected, you don't bring it up for the rest of the night or even the rest of the week. all is well in paradise it seems, and the earth is still spinning on its intended axis. you're acting normally, joking around with him normally, and just... being you normally. honestly, it's a cause to be cautious—eren would be lying if he said he didn't at least somewhat expect an outburst or pushback of some sort. you are his sister after all, the hard headedness and rebellion runs in the blood.
☆ eren begins to grow kind of suspicious of your behavior. you're going outside a lot more with the excuse of doing laundry down at the river (even though you'll be carrying a basket that clearly has like two socks that don't even match) or needing some fresh air. he's not necessarily opposed to you going outside, just as long as he knows exactly where you're going and if it's an area that's within walking distance. eren pretends to find it incredibly bothersome if you were to wander off somewhere unfamiliar, but really that kind of thing makes him panic.
☆ and it's not like you're really breaking any of the rules he's given you. you come back before your curfew and you make sure to tell him where you'll be and for how long. he's at a loss, really. there's a nagging feeling in his gut that tells him you're up to something. however, unless he can find some solid evidence that proves you've been breaking the rules, he can't punish you without looking like an idiot.
☆ on one unfortunate day, eren follows you. it was bound to happen, of course, especially when the excuses you give him get lamer and lamer. nothing can bypass his ultra instincts. so right after you bid him goodbye and the front door shuts behind you, he leaves through the back and skillfully tails behind you. and to his utter and complete surprise, you don't go to the river. no, you don't even leave the block.
☆ instead of going down the path that leads to the river, you stop in front of lupin or luca's house (he hasn't even bothered to remember the kid's name) and knock on the door. you're giddily rocking on the balls of your feet, laundry basket secured between your arm and waist. not even a few breaths later, the door swings open and the boy he saw a while back leans down and kisses you on the mouth.
☆ yeah, okay, now he's furious.
☆ let's just say that eren is not happy with you. he's more frustrated at the fact that you lied to him rather than you having a boyfriend. which is almost equally as bad but lying to him is still worse. he's sort of hurt that you didn't seem to feel comfortable enough to tell him about your little relationship (of course he would have opposed it but at least it's miles better than going behind his back). it looks like the only reasonable explanation for your behavior is that this boy has been influencing you to do these things and betray his trust.
☆ that night, eren is waiting for you in the living room. he's seated on the couch with his arms crossed and legs folded, looking very, very upset. you already know what it's about, but you're totally prepared this time. you won't let him interfere with your love life—you refuse.
☆ you and eren engage in yet another argument. you're screaming at the top of your lungs about how controlling he is and how you just want him to leave you alone for once. he's yelling about how boys are no good and that lukas will just break your heart once he gets bored of you. it hurts your feelings and ends with you locking yourself in your room while eren apologizes, somewhat disingenuously, through the door.
☆ despite your passionate efforts, your theatrics don't work. look, honestly, you were foolish to think you could win against eren. you're not aware, but he's already pulled some strings and now the roths' are conveniently needed somewhere in Wall Sina. that boy is no good for you; it's become evident in the way you're acting.
☆ within the next few days, you receive the sudden news that lukas is moving away again. he doesn't tell you why or where he's going, but he looks obviously distraught and annoyed. you try to visit him but whenever you do, no one answers the door anymore. one time you had seen him down by the river but when you called out to him, he ignored your existence entirely and walked away. you're completely heartbroken from his negligence and silence.
☆ once again, eren takes the upper hand. he'll bring you sweets and comfort foods to soothe the heart that he inadvertently broke. you cry over lukas for a while but eren is there to cheer you up. you don't even get a chance to say goodbye to him when he moves the next week, only allowed to watch through shades of the window as he disappears into the horizon. you feel as though he's taken a part of your heart with him.
☆ eren told you not to hang out with that boy, but you did it anyway. he was right. and he hopes that, this time, you've learned your lesson.
#eren yaeger headcanons#yandere x reader#attack on titan headcanons#aot x female reader#yandere aot#yandere#yandere attack on titan#eren yeager#yandere eren yeager x reader#yandere aot x reader#yandere eren yeager hcs#aot platonic hcs#eren yeager platonic hcs#older brother eren yeager
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The Blacksmith
Our power polycule is together and all is well in Pelargir. Or is it?
Pairing: Halbrand/Sauron x Female Reader & Galadriel x Female Reader (with some light Haladriel/Saurondriel of course)
Word Count: 3k
Warnings: Some more light smut 😜
Links to Chapter One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Twenty-One, Twenty-Two, Twenty-Three, Twenty-Four, Twenty-Five, Twenty-Six, Twenty-Seven, Twenty-Eight, Twenty-Nine, Thirty, Thirty-One, Thirty-Two, Thirty-Three, and Thirty-Four!
Chapter Thirty-Five
The sound of birds flitted in through the window along beams of sunlight. Eyelids slowly opening, you took in the picturesque blue sky of this new day. The sleep from which you woke was heavenly, much like the view to your left. Halbrand lay peacefully next to you, his arm across your chest, his messy hair covering half his face. You grinned so wide, your love for him bursting out of you. Though it was then you remembered your other companion, the Lady Galadriel, and remembered the feel of her lips on your skin. Holding your grin, you turned your head to the right to drink her in, but were met with an empty sight. She was not in the bed.
Your stomach dropped and your mind began to buzz anxiously. Was the morning light too sobering for her? Had she regretted going to bed with you, with Halbrand? Perhaps it was too much for her, this you would understand. Elves generally only took one love in their long lifetimes, and Galadriel had already shared herself with her lost husband Celeborn. It broke your heart a little to think your actions last night might have hurt her.
Slipping delicately out from under your husband's grasp, hoping not to wake him, you treaded lightly out of your chamber to see if Galadriel was somewhere in the house. Thankfully, you did not have to search long. "I do hope you were planning to put some clothes on before going outside to find me." she spoke softly, humour in her tone. Turning in the direction of her voice, you saw her in the washroom, bathing in your tub, steam rising from her skin. You felt your cheeks redden a little, suddenly aware of your still nude form. "You can't be blushing now, not after everything we did." Maybe the morning was sobering for you instead.
"Come here." she commanded you, and you obeyed, wandering slowly towards her, feeling the warmth of the water in the air before it even spilled over your body. "How long have you been awake?" you asked as you stepped into the bath.
"Since before dawn." she admitted, gliding across to you, the sound of water splashing against the tub filling your ears. "I've been feeling rather restless, my mind will not quieten." You wrapped your body around her then, and she rested her head gently over your beating heart. "I've a good ear if you wish to speak. I think I owe you quite the listen, Galadriel." you chuckled lightly, running a hand through her damp blonde locks. She placed a gentle kiss on your breast and sighed.
"There's… just so much that has been uncovered… I've learned secrets about myself that not even I was aware existed. Or at least… secrets I had been desperate to hide. I followed you both all the way here, not only because I wanted to end your lives… but because I missed you. I wanted to see you both again. And I loathed myself for it. Part of me thought at least if I killed you that then not only would Middle-earth be free… but so would I. I would be able to move on with my life and keep my secrets hidden. Nothing prepared me for this. For the confusion I now feel."
"The last thing I wish to do, Galadriel, is cause you any pain. I have done my share of that already. If you would rather take your leave of us, of this city, I would let you."
Galadriel rose to face you, shaking her head profusely. "That is not what I wish." She gazed at you with determination, unflinching and serious. You raised your hand to her face, stroking her soft cheek, warm water trickling down your arm. She leaned in slowly, pausing at the shortest of distances from you, almost asking for permission. You acquiesced and let your lips meet, the same hand that held her cheek now held her head in place against you. The kiss was one of love, of pure adoration. Your way of reassuring the she-elf that she was cared for, wanted, and needed. That you were here for her to ease her mind however you could.
You felt her tongue begging entrance, and you let her in, deepening the kiss, your passion for each other growing. Both of you quickly became lost in each other, every touch containing a new spark of delight. Though after a few moments, Galadriel broke away from you. You watched her eyes as she did so, saw her gaze drift to Halbrand's wound on your neck, then followed her hand as it fearfully roamed up her wet body, finding her own gash. The she-elf's eyes darted around in panic, her breathing quickening.
"Are you alright, Galadriel?" You reached out to comfort her, but she recoiled.
"Forgive me… I… I need some solitude." With those words, she rose out of the tub, hurriedly moving back into your chamber. You could hear Halbrand's voice try to question her, but he got no reply. Then you yourself moved with speed out of the tub, making swiftly for your chamber. Though as you approached the door, dripping water with every step, Galadriel flew past you, the lace sleeves of her gown billowing behind her as she fled down the stairs and out into the sunshine.
You did not follow, only reaching for a towel on the rack just inside the washroom door. Wandering into your bed chamber you took in the sight of Halbrand, bare chested and dazed. You dried yourself a little and crawled onto the bed next to him, feeling your brow furrow with concern. Your love sat up against the headboard, unsurprised at the turn of events. "I think we… may have overwhelmed her last night." you declared. "I did not intend to upset her or make her doubt herself. Everything just… happened."
"It happened the way it was supposed to. The way it needed to. She is undergoing the same struggle as you when I told you of who I am. You ran from me too, remember?"
As always, your love was right about these matters. You thought back to how much turmoil you felt when you ran from Sauron that day in the woods, scared beyond belief. Confusion racked your brain so completely, you had felt so desperately lost. This must be nothing compared to what Galadriel was feeling at this moment. Her long life and experiences no doubt weighing heavy upon her.
There was however something else that surprised you all last night, and you had somehow forgotten about it until now. Not only had your feelings for Galadriel come forth, but it seemed other unmanifested emotions had also surfaced. Halbrand and Galadriel also cared for each other, longed for each other. Though witnessing your love proclaim as much had not been the shocking part. It was the she-elf, speaking of her desire for Halbrand, for Sauron, that was something you didn't think either of you could have foreseen. You couldn't help but wonder then, who she might love more, giving you an unexpected thrill at the thought of having to win over her affections. Though, you knew of course, who you loved more. There were just two different kinds of powerful love coursing through you for each of them now, incomparable.
"Then she will just need time." you stated, trying to reassure yourself.
Halbrand nodded, running a hand through your hair. "Speaking of time…"
"Yes?"
"Can we just lay here, all day, and do nothing else?" he smiled at you dreamily, the sun's rays twinkling in his hazel depths. Your eyes couldn't help but drift to the open door, and how you wished to see Galadriel walking back through it. Halbrand placed his hand gently on your chin, moving your head back to face his. It was then you returned your husband's loving gaze, letting him pull you close to him to capture a kiss. Moaning a little into his mouth, you removed your lips from his, but only for a moment enough to say, "Yes, my king. We can do that." Halbrand smirked at you before resuming the kiss, pulling your body onto his in the sweetest of embraces.
And the two of you did just that, wrapped up in the sheets and each others limbs, back and forth between conversation and copulation, as the sunshine outside began to fade behind the clouds. The scent of rain permeated the air now, a far cry from the spring like awakening of the morning, with clouds of grey varying in shades, only darkening as time went on. "We should probably go find Galadriel, my love." you suggested, ready to return to the world. "Before the rain gets too heavy."
"I suppose we shall. I had half expected her to return by now. Ready for round two." Halbrand snickered, before letting his mouth suck on your throat. You gasped in delight. "We're never getting out of this bed, are we?"
"That's the idea, my queen." he hummed into your skin, lips and teeth grazing you.
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
Someone was at the front door, you could just hear them rapping on the wood over the rain that was beginning to increase. For a fleeting second you considered it could be the she-elf, but she likely would not knock, it wasn't exactly her way. "Halbrand?"
"Yes…" He was continuing his kisses along your skin, trying to claim every inch of you. "…my love?"
"Would you be a kind husband and get the door?"
Halbrand laughed, ending it with a sigh. "If I must." He placed a final kiss on your lips, before exiting the bed and pulling on some trousers, wandering out of your chamber with no tunic on. Sure to give the knocker something to gossip about, the sight of their bare chested king. Taking the opportunity your isolation had afforded you, you decided to dress quickly, and desiring something comfortable you chose the plum dress. Taking a seat at the vanity, you gazed at your reflection as you gently combed your hair, detangling the messy strands your husband was responsible for.
You could hear voices coming from downstairs, all male, followed by the stomping of feet up the stairs and towards you. In the mirror you now saw your brothers standing in the doorway, both dripping wet from the rain. Noticing their expressions, you spun fast to look at them directly. Their faces were white as sheets, Azrahin was struggling to keep it together, his anguish clear. Târikun's tears attempted to hide themselves with the rain drops on his cheeks, but you watched them fall from his eyes. Halbrand walked over to stand beside you, placing a tender hand on your shoulder. You were thankful for his touch in this moment.
"What is it?" you asked, anxiety beginning to creep in.
"I'm afraid…" Azrahin began, but he paused, unwilling to finish his words.
"Brother… just say it." you implored him.
"I'm afraid we bring bad tidings, sister."
Your heartbeat began to race as Halbrand squeezed your shoulder, sensing your distress. "What has happened?"
"We… we were exploring the market… looking for some fresh fruit to snack on… and… and we overheard… we overheard a conversation we could not believe."
"They are plotting to end you both." Târikun chimed in, cutting to the chase and saving his older brother.
"Who?" Halbrand demanded, and you swore you felt the temperature rise in his palm.
"Many. It seems a revolt is nigh."
"Are… are you sure?" you stammered, going into shock.
Azrahin nodded gravely. "There was a small gathering, in a secluded part of the market. We counted twenty, maybe thirty citizens."
"Did you recognise any of the rebels?" inquired Halbrand, really asking if Galadriel was amongst them.
"Aye." Târikun admitted, bowing his head a moment. "There were two women at the forefront." Your brother turned his gaze on you. "One was your red headed friend I saw you with at the feast yestereve. The other… was Bronwyn." Olwenna. Bronwyn. Your stomach dropped sharply and you felt as if you might be sick.
"Bronwyn?" gasped your king, taken aback. "But why… what were they saying?"
"That…" Azrahin began, steadying himself. "That is the part I wished I didn't believe." He sighed, before revealing all to you and your husband. "Bronwyn claims she saw you kill Olwenna's husband. Garion was his name?" he asked Târikun to confirm, and he did so with a small nod. You and Halbrand locked eyes then, and for the first time, you saw fear in his hazel orbs. Tears were welling up in your eyes, and your husband reached for your hand, holding it tightly as Azrahin continued. "She saw something in the two of you that was… evil. A darkness swept over you, she said. She told everyone listening that the king snapped Garion's neck, and the queen gutted him to pass his death off as a casualty of the battle."
Bronwyn had witnessed the entire murder it seemed. How could you be so careless? No wonder she had recoiled from you as you tried to comfort her over Theo. "Then your friend told the crowd…" Now it was Târikun who wished not to speak, though he knew he must. "She told the crowd that… you massacred an entire village… barely a week ago… is… is this true, sister?" His voice shook as he asked the question, terrified for the answer you knew was coming. Releasing Halbrand's touch, you paced towards your brothers, using all your might to keep your tears from becoming you. "There is much I haven't told you. About me, about father, about mother. I need you to hear everything before you cast judgment. Let us go downstairs and-"
"No." Azrahin spoke for the pair of them, but they were both unobliging with your request. "Whatever it is, you say it right here. Right now." You felt Halbrand at your side once more, locking his fingers tightly with yours. You took a deep breath, and let the truth leave your body, entering your brothers ears, praying they would not run. They listened intently as you told them about your father and Waldreg, and how they carried out Sauron's plan to bring fire and ash down upon the Southlands; about how you were swayed to their devious way of thinking as a small child who didn't know any better. You told them about how that changed when your mother died, and how you've been seeing her in your dreams, though you were still unsure as to why. You told them that you and Halbrand were fighting a war within yourselves, that the light was winning, but some battles it did not. The decimation of that village was the resulting loss.
Their faces went through the gamut of emotions as they let each single word sink in, grasping what it all meant. "But why did this… darkness… only infect you? Why not us?"
"Because it was destined for your sister. As she was destined for me." spoke up Halbrand, wise when the time called for it.
"Don't worry, I think each of you has some darkness within." you stated, feeling your dismay from the other night return.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Târikun asked, offended.
You just sighed, deciding in the scheme of things right now, it wasn't worth pursuing. "Nevermind."
Silence permeated the air, with only a clap of thunder from above breaking it. Your brothers were thinking, considering everything you had said, before deciding what to do with the knowledge they had learned. "Are you both certain that you are on a path towards goodness? That you seek to atone?" asked Azrahin, needing to be sure.
"Yes. Wholeheartedly." you assured him desperately.
"Then why did you kill Garion?" Târikun interjected, not yet satisfied.
You looked to Halbrand, rage beginning to boil under his skin. He closed his eyes, gathering himself, no doubt trying to vanish the memory of what Garion did to you. And what he then did to him. His eyes opened, an intense gaze now on Târikun as he answered his question. "Because Garion tried to kill your sister." Halbrand chuckled lightly at your brothers stunned reactions to this. "Left that part out did they? How convenient."
"My love, perhaps Bronwyn didn't see-"
"She saw enough. All she needed." In frustration, Halbrand let go of your hand and began to pace the chamber rapidly.
"You said they are plotting to end us. Did you happen to hear their plan?" you asked your brothers, determined to put a stop to it before things got out of hand.
"They said that Bronwyn would call for you both, ask to meet you in the town square. Then, ambush you." revealed Azrahin. "After that, we'd heard enough, and ran here as fast as we could to warn you."
"And to figure out who's side we should be on." admitted Târikun. You took a hand of each of them, holding them up and close to your chest, eyes darting back and forth between them, pleading with them to see reason. "You are with us, are you not?"
The two men exchanged knowing looks, and without hesitation placed their other hands on top of your own. "You are our family. We're not going to abandon you. We will stand beside you."
"Until the very end, silly sister."
You smiled then, for what felt like the first time in forever. This news had been so daunting, so unexpected, you had almost forgotten how to. Suddenly your brothers pulled you into a tight embrace, and the three of you stood there holding each other, whilst Halbrand continued to pace the room, his fear taking hold. Realising this, you left the arms of your brothers and stepped towards your husband, blocking his movements, taking his hands in yours. "It's going to be alright my love. We will stop this uprising before it occurs. We will sway them back to us, back to the light." You placed a tender hand on his face, his stubble tickling your skin. Halbrand leaned into your touch and took a deep breath. "You are right, my love. We will."
In that moment, the storm ceased, water from the sky no longer crashing loudly upon the earth. And as if on queue, another presence entered your household, standing dripping in your doorway. Galadriel had returned.
Tagging: @denzit @heronamedhawks @pursuitseternal @coraleethroughthelookingglass @hikarielizabethbloom @restless-tides @imjustsuperweird @vaguelyvibin @gil-galadhwen
#halbrand x reader#sauron x reader#halbrand/sauron x reader#galadriel x reader#halbrand#sauron#charlie vickers#the rings of power#trop#trop fanfic#lord of the rings#lotr
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Steve Rogers female reader having a bad day
Bad Day
a/n: ooo my fav blonde baddie
word count: 1k
summary: things just weren't going your way today at all. that is until his smile shined through your dark pitiful raincloud.
warning: anything and everything you can expect from a bad day.
marvel-masterlist m.masterlist
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Your body ached as you slugged your way to the tower's elevator. It felt like you had an invisible weight of a hundred bricks on your shoulders.
Pressing the up button you waited for the ‘ding’ sound to cue your entrance to sweet relief. Once the doors opened and closed it felt like an eternity before you reached your floor.
Tony just had to make everyone’s rooms on the top levels. Completely away from the training and meeting rooms.
The locations where you spent most of your day. Regretfully.
It had been a mess the moment you woke up.
Which was an hour after you were supposed to.
Followed by not being able to find the pair to your favorite socks. Then also running out of the blueberry bagels that you oh so loved.
Moving towards your first meeting of the day, you crashed into someone when turning around the corner *eh hem* Clint *hem* when they came hurtling at you.
His excuse was that the Mcdonald's breakfast menu would closed soon and he needed his number two otherwise his day would be ruined.
Yeah, that's not the only thing he’ll ruin as the impact he made with you caused your latte to spill onto your new blazer and blouse.
And of course, it was a matching white set.
After that encounter, you had to sprint to your room and fling through your closet to find a scratchy old sweater which was the best option because it was laundry day. Then you had to run back but the elevator took seven stops on its way down to you making you late for your meeting.
Then for lunch, somebody took your name labeled bowl of soup.
Your mom had made you that soup.
The final thing to set you off was the sparring match between you and Bucky. The man was uncharacteristically cocky today and had an ego the size of the training room itself.
Obviously, he was spending too much time with Sam.
You weren’t in the mood for jokes but of course, the man had to keep on teasing you throughout the match. More than once, he said ‘Turn that frown upside down’ and took it quite literally as he would pick you up and body slam you down onto the mat.
Which leads you back to here.
Flopping face first into your bed sheet.
You didn’t move for a solid thirty minutes. The only thing coaxing you to do so was the ding of the elevator followed by steady footsteps announcing themselves across the wooden floor. As the door hinges creaked open, you turned your head, smooshing your cheek against the mattress to view who entered.
“Hi,” you greeted, your tone lacking emotion. Steve crouched down beside you.
“Hey,” he sighed with a light smile. Bringing up his hand and placing it on your back, he gently brushed along your shirt. “Everything okay?”
Pursing your lips you scanned Steve’s face before responding. The crease in his brow continued to grow the longer you took. Releasing a breath you nodded.
“Yeah, just tired.” Humming, Steve brushed a thumb over your cheek.
“Rough day?” he asked. You nodded again, closing your eyes from his hand's warmth. For a moment there was silence as you both sunk into the moment. Steve’s eyes darted across your features, a notable bruise was growing on your cheek as well as the bags under your eyes grew heavy. With a light grunt, Steve stood. Only for him to bend down and place a light kiss on the crown of your head. “I’ll run you a bath,” was the final thing he said before exiting the bedroom and heading down the hall.
The sound of distant water falling quietly met your ears. A small smile grew on your lips as you slowly sat up as Steve returned once more. Just as you went to stand Steve swiftly stopped you by picking you up and hauling you into his arms. A small squeak left your lips. A chuckle vibrated the man's chest as you scrambled to take hold of him. Smacking him, words fell upon deaf ears as Steve maneuvered you into the bathroom and placed you on the sink.
With weary eyes, you watched as he took micellar water and makeup wide into his hold.
Feet swinging you fought to control your grin. Taking your chin in one hand and the wipe in the other Steve began gently smoothing the damp object over your features.
“You’re such a sweetheart aren't you?” you teased lightly as he finished.
“Only for you,” he responded, kissing the crinkle between your brows after his cheesy declaration. Tapping the counter, he placed his hands on either side of you. The tip of his nose brushed against yours as your eyes grew lidded. Holding his gaze for a moment you brought your hands up to cup his cheeks. Gently Steve pushed forward to connect his lips with yours. Leaning closer, your chest pushed against his. Pulling back he began leaving a trail of kisses from your lips, across your cheek, and up to your temple.
Sighing in contentment you pressed your head into his neck. Rubbing your back once more, Steve slowly pulled away.
“You get in. I’ll be right back,” he stated, walking back towards the door. Taking the nob into his hold, he closed the space with a soft latch, disappearing behind the wood. Huffing out a breath you hopped down from the sink, stretching after doing so.
When Steve came back you were already in the tub, bubbles tickling your chin. In his hands were two glasses of wine. Shutting the door behind him once more he placed the glasses beside you.
“Mind if I join you?” Steve asked with a lopsided grin. Taking one of the cups into your hold your brows raised in question while you took a sip.
“I don’t know, Rogers. It might cost you.”
“How so?” You smiled brightly up at him.
“Grab some snacks and I’ll allow you to enter.”
Standing up straight, the man gave you a mock salute before turning to head out once again. Sinking into the warm water, you leaned back and trailed your eyes on him as he left with a soft smile.
#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x yn#marvel x reader#marvel x you#steve rogers
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[female, she/her] Welcome to Aurora Bay, [ERICA FAYE MANNING]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [KATHERYN WINNICK]. You must be the [FORTY-TWO] year old [FLOWER MERCHANT]. Word is you’re [LOYAL] but can also be a bit [GRUMPY] and your favorite song is [AC/DC - T.N.T]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [FISHERS COVE]. I’m sure you’ll love it!
TL:DR
- Oldest Keaton sibling. The family pressure drove her to leave town at 18 and move to Montana to work as a ranch hand.
- Got pregnant at 22 to a rodeo boy. Had the baby and the pair lived under the same roof for two years to raise their son. But her baby-daddy went and got married so their son mostly lived with him.
- Erica tried to be a good mom, was there for all the sports games and things. Her son is a good kid.
- She met Annie and eventually they got married. Things seemed good. But being who she is, Erica stuffed things up.
- Used 'coming to check on Nicole' as an excuse to dip from her messed up marriage and is now stuck in limbo because she hates Aurora Bay but doesn't want to go back.
Here is the full bio that's way too long:
The oldest of the Keaton siblings, Erica spent majority of her childhood as an only child, being the focus of her parent's attention - not something that she was particularly thrilled about. Their attention came with a lot of pressure, constant pushing to do more, to be more. Erica was relieved when her younger brother came along, thinking it would divert some of her parent's intensity -- but it did not. This pressure sometimes caused rifts between the siblings, since they didn't have anywhere else to take out their frustrations.
When Erica was seventeen, Nicole was born, and despite falling in love with the adorable baby girl, Erica had already decided that she was leaving. Which she did almost as soon as she graduated. She'd never liked the beach or the ocean and so fled as far away from that as she could, ending up in Montana. With her ingrained work ethic and competitive nature, the blonde found herself thriving as a ranch hand. The fact that this wasn't exactly what her parents had had in mind for her was of little bother to Erica. She'd spent the last eighteen years trying to live up to their expectations and now she was living her own life.
That life wasn't paved with the best decisions, however. At twenty-two, Erica met rodeo rider Jack. The pair had a whirlwind relationship, chasing the rodeo circuit and partying like their lives depended on it. Until Erica discovered she was pregnant. Not exactly surprising considering their behaviour, but it sobered them up real quick. Erica had never even considered children before, but she couldn't bring herself to end the pregnancy. Thankfully, Jack promised to be their for his kid, even though their relationship didn't survive the pregnancy. For the first two years, the pair shared a small cottage, finding a way to co-parent their baby boy Cody. But eventually Jack began a new relationship and moved out, getting married not long after. With his life becoming the more stable of the two, Jack took majority custody of Cody, though Erica spent as much time with her son as she could, taking him ranching with her on weekends when he was old enough, until he outgrew that and began filling his weekends with his own hobbies and sports.
They found their own sort of rhythm for the next few years, Erica attending all of Cody's sports matches, every significant high school milestone.
When she was thirty-six, Erica met her to-be wife. While she hadn't really had any serious relationships over the years, things with Annie just came easily and Erica found she enjoyed having a partner in life after being self-reliant for so long. The pair built a pretty comfortable life together, and Erica was thriving. Until a small thing somehow became a big thing, the blonde's stubborn nature kicking in and causing her to drive a wedge between the two of them.
So when Erica heard that her youngest sister was struggling, she used it as an excuse to leave the situation she'd created, saying she was just going back to make sure her sister was okay. But Erica found herself stuck in limbo, not wanting to go back to face the mess that she'd left behind while also hating Aurora Bay and the coast where it was located. When it was clear that Erica wasn't coming back in a hurry, Annie followed her to town in hopes of saving their marriage. Deep down, that's what Erica wants, she's just terrible at dealing with her emotions and admitting that she's wrong.
Currently Erica is working at a large flower farm outside of town, cutting and delivering raw batches to florists around the bay area. It's the closest thing the farming she can get, but it's definitely not the same.
@aurorabayaesthetic
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Little Girl.
Summary: Haunted by a sleepless night, you seek comfort from your beloved commander. Erwin Smith knows the best way to relax you. (~2.200 words)
Warnings: smut (mdni), age gap (legal), fem!reader, petting (female receiving), daddy kink, corruption kink, slight breeding kink, overstimulation, slight bondage
Requested by @erwinbestdaddy
At night, when all soldiers were peacefully sleeping, you laid wide awake in your bed and stared at the ceiling. A horrible dream interrupted your much needed sleep. Heavily panting you wiped away the sweat on your forehead.
It was just a dream, you tried to reassure yourself but the vivid images of Erwin bleeding out on the battlefield still flashed through your mind. How much time was left for you two to spend together? If the cruelty of this world won't take him away from you, time will for sure. After all, you were much younger than him, just turned nineteen, while he was already in his thirties.
You sighed.
When you joined survey corps, Erwin didn't pay much attention to you. To him you were just an underaged cadet – nothing more and nothing less. But after a couple of years, you matured and he grew fond of you, admiring your wisdom and diligence. Nevertheless Erwin never allowed himself to think about you in a romantic manner, even though your heartbeat rose in his presence as well. After the weight of his affectionate feelings for you became unbearable and he was afraid that you would slip from his grasp forever, he finally confessed to you.
From that day on you got into a secret relationship with your beloved commander. The thoughts about him inflamed a painful ache in your chest.
You needed to see him, you needed to see Erwin. Now.
For this reason, you finally stood up and trotted into the hallway. When you arrived in front of the Commanders office, you opened the door a crack in order to peek inside.
There he sat at his desk in all his splendor and signed the documents in front of him. The moonlight illuminated his blond hair strands magically and traced his cheekbones.
Because of his concentration, he didn’t notice you until you completely entered his office. Surprised, he looked at the beautiful figure in front of him.
“I can’t fall asleep.“, you complained, clasping your arms behind your back.
In your silky, light blue sleeping robe, you looked like a mystical nymph and the only thing Erwin could do was stare.
“Come here.“, he invited you, pushing his chair back so that you could sit on his lap as usual.
In a fluid motion you sat on the thighs of your lover. Hoping to relax you, Erwin started massaging your shoulders. After some time, he rubbed your upper arms until he stroked you forearms. Instead of calming you, his hands did the opposite. A heated arousal coursed through your veins, causing your breath to fasten.
With his gallant sense of detail, Erwin immediately noticed how you reacted to his touches – and because he was an exemplary man who didn’t want to keep anything from his girl, he took the next step.
“I know what would certainly relax you.“, he cooed, smiling slightly, while his hand loosened the ribbon around your waist, revealing the discreet underwear beneath it.
When you felt his fingertips caress your bare stomach, you couldn’t help but moan.
“I see you’re already enjoying it.“, Erwin smiled happily, pressing a kiss on your cheek, “But this is my office, so only my rules apply. But if I go too far, let me know, all right?"
You nodded.
“Words, dear.“, Erwin commanded, lifting your chin with his index finger.
“All right.“, you sighed confirmingly and pressed your lips on his.
While you caught him in a sweet kiss, his hand wandered to your panties. Once there, he slipped effortlessly under the fabric. When his fingers touched your sensitive bundle of nerves, you groaned in surprise, allowing Erwin to slide his tongue into your mouth. Full of lust he turned his tongue around yours without being able to get enough of you.
In the meantime, his fingers played with your weak point. The waves of pleasure that poured into your body due to his touch rose the volume of your moans. Suddenly he increased the pressure with which he rubbed your clit, sending you directly to your limits. You were forced to break the kiss, as your gasp took full possession of you. When you thought it couldn’t get any better, your high took you over.
Your legs became shaky and your delightful moans filled the air.
“I’m sorry, I’m so loud.“, you apologized ashamed.
“You’re doing very well, my little girl.“ Erwin praised the breathless woman in his arms, “You don’t need to apologise.”
You didn’t answer. Satisfied, he watched the cute little thing on his lap. He loved how you tried to avoid his gaze and how wonderfully your cheeks burned.
His good, little girl.
Smiling sardonically, he let a finger slide into you. Because of the heat and the tightness of your walls, his lips escaped an agitated gasp. While Erwin moved his fingers inside, you bit down on your lower lip to muffle your sinful sounds. He formed a knot in your abdomen that cried for release.
“Don’t worry, babygirl.“ Erwin soothed you, whispering, “The more embarrassed you are, the more pleasurable it feels.”
This sentence worked like a magic spell for you, as your walls suddenly relaxed, allowing his fingers to penetrate even deeper. He spread your walls and massaged the intoxicating point inside till your senses merged with pleasure. When Erwin additionally left some love bites on your neck, you reached you climax. This time you didn’t hold back, which is why you could enjoy every drop of this insane feeling. With the help of his finger movements, Erwin slowly rode you through your high.
“So good, you make me proud.“, Erwin proclaimed amused, pulling his fingers out of you and leading them to your lips.
Obeying his silent command, you took his fingers into your mouth and licked them clean. Erwin blushed shortly because of the desire with which your tongue circled around his fingers, his pants gradually becoming too tight for his hard member.
After his fingers were clean, he lifted you up to carry you to bed. Quietly panting, you clung to his shoulders, whereupon a wide grin spread over the corners of his mouth. His girl was pure and innocent, and only he was allowed to spoil you.
Arriving in the bedroom, he laid you down on his mattress. In a fluid motion, he removed the pretty bra from your breasts. Because of the cool night air goose bumps adorned your bare skin. With sensual kisses, he painted a trace on your cleavage down to your breasts. Erwin spoiled each one with his talented tongue. The excitement in your abdomen became more and more prominent. Desperate to get some friction, you started rubbing your middle against his thigh, which you were barely able to reach.
“Don’t get impatient, dear.“, Erwin scolded you, pressing your hips against the bed.
Then he continued to play with your breasts, but this time at a teasingly slow speed. His tongue rotated in a slow motion around your nipples, while his hands shyly squeezed your flesh. Still, he left your breasts sore because of the amount of time that had passed.
After Erwin was satisfied with his work, he stood up to undress. You watched him silently. The less clothes were left on him, the more aware you became of what would happen in a few moments. You have longed for that moment. Though you have been ashamed of your dirty thoughts lately, your guilty conscience faded in the presence of the naked perfection before you.
Only his green bolo tie was left on Erwin, that he was about to pull off, but before he could do so, you grabbed his hand.
“Keep that on, please.”, you begged, grabbing the emerald gem.
Your (e/c) eyes grew large with expectation.
“Everything my girl wants.“ he replied, gently stroking your cheek.
Erwin positioned himself on top of you, while you grabbed his bolo tie looking for support. You waited patiently for him to let his member slide into you, but nothing happened. He merely teased your entrance with his warm tip.
“Erwin, I-”
“Erwin?“, he asked with his fingertips running over your marked neck, “How do you call me correctly?“
The heat in your chest area became unbearable. You knew what he wanted to hear from you, after all you were his obedient girl.
“Daddy...”, you promptly corrected yourself, for which you received a warm smile.
After that small gesture, he gently entered you. Your walls were tightly wrapped around his member and pulled him deeper into you, even though you were still tight. Because of the immense pressure, two tears poured out of your eyes.
“Are you all right, sweetheart?“
Erwin gently kissed your nose tip as long as his hands wiped the tears on your wet cheeks away.
“Yeah, it-it just hurts a little.“, you stuttered, gasping for air.
Lovingly, Erwin put his large palm on your cleavage.
“Breathe, my girl, breathe.“, he requested, causing you to take a deep breath.
Erwin watched closely as you tried to catch some air. Your wellshaped breasts moved up and down. After a few more breaths, you slowly relaxed around his length, allowing him to sink the rest of his member in. When he was sure that you were used to his length, he pulled his cock out of you again.
Without a warning, he pushed it back into your center. At first his thrusts inside you were hypnotically slow, but Erwin increased his speed with every movement. Pure passion possessed your body, causing you to desperately hold onto his bolo tie. It was amazing how heavenly you felt around him. Erwin himself could hardly believe it, he was finally able to be one with the woman he loved above all else.
“Daddy, it-it’s so-”, you struggled between your moans, “So good!”
A deep chuckle escaped his chest at the sight of you. You were already ruined, even though he didn’t plan to finish any time soon. Your mouth was wide open, letting pass the most magnificent sounds while your delicate hands clung tighter onto his bolo-tie. You were close to your next orgasm, which Erwin could clearly feel. He himself felt the lust catch up with him. For this reason, he intensified his deep thrusts until the two of you finished at the same time.
Exhausted gasps filled the air as you looked breathlessly into each other’s eyes. With your last remaining strength you pulled him down by his bolo tie to touch his lips. It was a tired but gentle kiss that tasted like perfection.
“Does my little girl want to continue?“, Erwin ascertained, brushing your sweaty (h/c) hair from your face.
“Yeah, I want to, daddy.“, you confirmed, reaching for his forearms.
What an excellent girl he had. Smiling, he pressed your legs against the mattress till your knees touched the sheets. He knew he would drive you crazy in that position.
Then he began to move his cock slowly back and forth in you. Thanks to the warm substance with which he had previously painted your walls white, he was able to move easily in you. Within a very short time, his movements in you reached an unbelievable speed. The bed crackled loudly, but even louder were your moans, that you couldn’t hold back because of the intense pleasure.
“Your belly is already swollen.“, Erwin smiled, caressing your abdomen, “So pretty.”
He leaned gently down to whisper into your ear.
“Do you want me to make you even fuller?”
You breathed the air sharply in before finally nodding. This time Erwin let this silent answer pass, since you have already reached your limit, but soon he would teach you to beg and answer correctly.
“Good girl.“ he praised you, before picking up his previous speed.
The intense sensation in your abdomen sent shock waves over your skin. You had never felt anything comparable before. Only the climax that followed was more delicious. While your mind got clouded by lust, Erwin’s hot seed filled you to the brim. Your eyelids became heavy and your center was sore.
Of course, he noticed your exhaustion, pulling you carefully up so that you could sit comfortably in his lap. In this position, you felt his still hard member, which made you moan briefly.
“You are unique. I love you.“, Erwin declared, pressing a kiss on your lips to swallow your embarassement.
“Just a little more and we’re done.“, he announced, stroking your back, “Can my girl endure that?”
Bashfully, you looked to the side.
“Yes, but I’m too tired to hold on to you, daddy.“, you said, looking at him.
An idea flashed in Erwin’s brilliant mind.
All of a sudden, he pulled the bolo tie from his neck and tied the jewel around your wrists instead. Then he placed your cuffed hands around his neck so that you could hold on to him without actively grasping him.
“Is it uncomfortable or does it hurt?“, Erwin asked, closely inspecting your tied hands.
The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt you.
“No, it’s perfect.”
After this statement, Erwin began to push slowly and passionately into you. Your eyes were at the same level, which is why you two didn't look away for a second. Your breasts were pressed against his warm chest and your half-open mouths, only a few centimeters apart from each other, exchanged breaths. With each thrust you quietly gasped for air. You were glad that you didn’t have to worry about how to hold on to him, because now the last bit of strength has left your limbs.
“I am glad that I am yours – despite our difference in age.“, you murmured without breaking eye contact.
“I am glad that you don't care about that.“ Erwin replied, grabbing your chin and pulling you right away into a tender kiss.
He was a man who never regretted his decisions, but at this moment he felt regret for the first time for not revealing his love for you sooner. In that case you would have wasted less of your precious time together. But instead of being depressed about that fact, Erwin smiled – he smiled because it happened now.
After a few more strokes, he shot his hot seed into you, while you trembled uncontrollably. Only after a few minutes you two came to your senses.
“I’m happy.“, you smiled gratefully, “You make me happy.”
Moved by these words, he pulled you into a warm embrace.
“You make me happy too, and that’s why I’m going to take good care of you.”
#attack on titan#commander erwin#erwin smith#erwin smith smut#erwin smith x reader#erwin#erwin smith x you#erwin smut#erwin x y/n#erwin x you
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. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 ࿐ྂ
Pairing: Kurapika Kurta X afab!Reader
Sypnosis: A revisit to a certain place brought back a lot of memories. And under the bed of flowers, two people confessed their genuine feelings for each other.
Word Count: 1,215
It's been a while since I visited this place, it's always been welcoming. You lay down on the grassy field which was surrounded by colorful flowers. It was your heaven, the place which made you feel happy. Many flowers bloomed everywhere, they all had vibrant colors and some had fragrant smells. It was a perfect place to rest.
"[Name]? Is that you?" A certain blonde asked as he look closely at the figure. You only smiled as you turn around to see him, "Yup, it's me"
"Well, what are you doing here?" Kurapika asked as he sat down next to you, his blonde locks swaying with the wind. "I'm just visiting this place of mine again. What about you?" You replied to his question, and you look at him as you question back. "Well... I was looking for you..." He replied with pink blush dusting his face. "I saw your figure in this place and thought if it is really you. The others wanted to celebrate something with you"
"Hm...? What would that be?" You asked as you stared at the skies. The color sky blue was your favorite color in the world, it represents the clear sky, of course. But there is still more than one meaning of this color, sky blue is one of trust, honesty, and loyalty. It is sincere, reserved, and quiet, and doesn't like to make a fuss or draw attention. It hates confrontation and likes to do things in its own way. Yup, it truly resembles your personality. "Well... It's about Gon, he wanted to um... Well, he doesn't actually tell me about it. He just told me to find you because he wanted to celebrate something and needed you to be present" The blonde said, looking at the [hair length] [hair color]-haired girl with her locks swaying together with the wind too. "Hm... A secret, huh?" You muttered, "Well... I'm going later, let me stay here for a while"
The two stayed in the meadow for a while, staring at the blue skies while the fluffy white clouds floated above the land. Once thirty minutes passed, the female sat up and then picked one flower at her side. "What are you doing?" He asked, looking at her. "This is a yellow rose. Throughout history, yellow has been closely associated with the sun, making these roses excellent for cheering people up. Yellow roses send a message of appreciation and platonic love without the romantic subtext of other colors. The color represents feelings of joy and delight" You stated, giving him the yellow rose you had. "Platonic love, huh?" Kurapika mumbled as he studied the flower.
The female chuckled and then stood up, Kurapika looked at you with a questioning look. "Where are you going?" He asked. "Just stay here, I'm going to find some more flowers. Don't worry, I won't go far from you, Onii-sama" You chuckled and then walked away. "Please stop calling me Onii-sama" Kurapika flushed red. You loved to tease Kurapika much, the age gap between the two of you is only one year. When you met him at the hunter exam, he acted like a big brother to you and you sometimes call him Onii-sama. You had a deep feeling for him as your 'big brother', but because of this relationship, you consider him more than a big brother.
You really loved this place, this place was the inheritance of your mother. You are a manipulator. You manipulate plants and nature, especially flowers. This was your power, that's why you always care about this place. With your presence alive, this place will never wither, ever. You looked around the place and smiled as you notice a red rose. You went to it and then picked it up, roses are the symbol of love. That's what they say. But one flower can have different meanings, and this one had. One of the most universal of all symbols, the red rose represents true love.
Once you got what you wanted, you came back to the male who was laying on the grass. "Kurapika!" You called while walking to him. "What is that now?" He asked, looking at your towering figure. He blushed. "For you" Yo gave him the red rose then sat down next to him. "Um... Thanks..." He thanked you as he got the yellow rose from his side. "The red colors range from bright red to deep burgundy. Varieties include Charlotte, Forever Young, Classy, and Rouge Baiser. Red roses are given to those who you want to show love and passion, people who you have great respect for, and those who have shown great courage. The quantity can also have a special meaning. A single red rose shows love, a dozen shows gratitude, twenty-five shows congratulations and fifty show unconditional love. Two red roses are tied together to symbolize an engagement. The shade of the red has a meaning as well. Bright red means love, burgundy means unconscious love and dark crimson is used to show mourning. A withered red rose is used to show that the love is over. A red rosebud symbolizes youthful love and beauty" You stated as you looked at the skies, at him, then back to the sky. "The one I gave had this meaning; love. Since I gave you one, bright red rose"
"You can't say that you're the one who can give me this" Kurapika said, earning your attention. You looked at him with a questioning look. "This is for you..." He gave you two red roses tied together while looking away, but his blush is visible to you. You blushed at this. Two red roses tied together symbolize an engagement. Is this for real?
"That is so sweet of you, Onii-sama" You teased, but the blush is still plastered on your face. "I know that you're not ready for this. Teasing might not help" Kurapika told you, in a serious tone he has, but he also had this loving tone that would make your heart melt. You were speechless, yes, he's right. You were not ready for this, you two are still young. Well, that's what you always thought. You tried to let this kind of event lapse by teasing him. But it seems that it doesn't work. "Y-you know that I wasn't prepared for this kind of stuff..." You stuttered while looking away.
"I know, please take care of these roses until the right time comes. So you can remember it, our engagement" Kurapika smiled sweetly with eyes close. You looked back at him and then smiled. "Yeah..."
The two of you looked at each other's eyes for a while, unconsciously, you two started to lean slowly. Because this is your first time, you closed your eyes and waited for his lips to touch yours. Once it did, a tingling sensation ran down your spine. It lasted for a while when the two of you separate for air. "I love you," You said under your breath as you placed your head on his shoulder. "I love you too, my rose"
#fanfic#fanfiction#alternate universe#oneshot#one shot#reader insert#x reader#fluff#drabble#hxh#hxh 2011#female reader#hunter x hunter#hunter x hunter 2011#kurapika kurta#kurapika
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A performance needs an audience
Ship: Geraskier (+ a female sex worker)
Rating: E
Wordcount: 1.5k
Tags: exhibitionism, rimming, prostitution, pegging, anal sex, public sex, cunnilingus, oral sex
Read on AO3
Geralt should have known that seeing Jaskier play in a brothel would be different from his usual performances. For starters he was dressed sluttier than Geralt had ever seen him. Sure, with his open doublet and the shirt cut deeply to reveal his chest hair he was always dressed pretty slutty but this was a whole other thing. His trousers were extremely tight and he was wearing thigh high boots with them. He had gotten rid of the doublet completely and was wearing a silken shirt that was partly see through. Seeing all the people staring at Jaskier made something wild in him come out.
He knew he would be the one allowed to touch Jaskier in the end and it calmed him again. What he was wearing was certainly the right outfit for a brothel. The Passiflora was filled with various people, some watching Jaskier, some making out in a corner and some even playing Gwent, because apparently that was a reason to visit a brothel for some people. Jaskier finished his performance with a flourishing bow and left the makeshift stage to saunter right into Geralt’s arms.
“How was I?” he asked the Witcher.
“Unbearably hot,” Geralt breathed into his ear and bit down at Jaskier’s exposed neck. Geralt’s fingers started to trace over Jaskier’s body and slipped under the see-through shirt.
“I’ve seen at least ten people who seem to want to fuck you,” Geralt growled. Jaskier wrapped his arms around Geralt’s neck and pressed himself closer to the Witcher.
“Maybe we should show them that I’m spoken for then,” Jaskier answered.
“Mmhh I could fuck you right here against the wall for everyone to see,” Geralt suggested and he felt Jaskier shiver in his arms.
“God’s Geralt yes please,” he moaned. Geralt turned him around and pressed him face first against the wall then started to fumble with the laces of Jaskier’s trousers. He pulled them down a little to reveal Jaskier’s beautiful bottom. Geralt dropped to his knees and buried his face between the cheeks. Jaskier tensed for a moment in surprise before he relaxed into it. Geralt started to tease the rim with his tongue, enjoying the feel of trembling bard before him. Someone next to them whistled and a glance back showed him, they had attracted a small audience. His cock twitched at the realisation. He used his hands to spread Jaskier’s cheeks a bit more as he pushed his tongue in, breaching the tight circle of muscle. Jaskier was already panting heavily.
Jaskier fumbled in his pocket and pushed a vial into Geralt’s hand. Geralt pulled back a little and looked at the vial. Of course, Jaskier would not go to a brothel without having oil at hand. As if there wasn’t a huge supply here. But that way they didn’t need to get any. He got up and coated his finger to then slowly bury it in the spit wet whole. He pressed himself against Jaskier who was completely leaning against the wall.
“Looks like we’re quite the attraction, right now,” Geralt whispered, as he worked his finger in and out. Jaskier shivered under him and looked around at the people who had gathered around them. Geralt had seen at least two people with a hand in their trousers.
“Marquise Serenity might not be too happy about us fucking here without paying,” Geralt said as he worked a second finger in. Jaskier clawed at the wall but got himself under control quickly.
“Cynthia, wanna peg Geralt?” he called through the room. The blonde woman he had called turned around and cocked her head.
“Thirty crowns”, she answered with a smile.
“You’ve gotten expensive, but sure,” he agreed, laughing.
“Am I being asked as well?” Geralt whispered into Jaskier’s ear.
“Do you want to get pegged?” Jaskier asked.
“Yeah, of course,” Geralt answered. Jaskier knew his answer would have been yes and even if not he would have said it right away. Any reply from the bard was cut off by Geralt working a third finger in and finding Jaskier’s prostate.
Cynthia had gone into the next room and returned with a harness around her hips that had a phallus attached to it. In her hand she held a vial of oil. Geralt felt anticipation rise just from seeing this. She stepped up behind him and rubbed her hand over Geralt’s back.
“Hello again, darling,” she greeted him. It was certainly not the first time she had kept them company. The wooden phallus pressed against his butt as she started to prepare him with her fingers.
“You seem not to need a lot of preparation today,” she said as she slid a second finger in him.
“That’s because I railed him the whole last night,” Jaskier explained proudly. She laughed while Geralt exasperated buried his face in the crook of Jaskier’s neck. He pulled back his fingers and took hold of his cock, to push into the hot wet hole slowly. He looped his arms around Jaskier and pulled him against his chest. Cynthia had decided, he had been prepared enough now, she was right and was now also pushing the wooden phallus into Geralt. He stilled for a moment, trying to clear his head that started to cloud up from the combined pleasure before he started to move.
Cynthia grabbed his hips and started to thrust into him with much more force then Geralt had expected from her, pushing him into Jaskier with each thrust and he just let her lead the whole thing. He closed his eyes and wrapped his hand around Jaskier’s cock. For now, he had nearly forgotten the people who were watching them. He mainly heard Jaskier’s moans next to his face. Jaskier’s breathing got quicker and as Geralt had expected, he felt him clench around his cock seconds later, as he came in Geralt’s hand and painted the wall in his cum. Geralt followed after two more thrusts and leaned against Jaskier heavily panting, as Cynthia pulled out. Her hand was still lying on Geralt’s shoulder for a moment, before she unfastened the harness and took it off. Geralt pulled out and Jaskier turned around, taking in the audience they had drawn.
“Thank you for your attention,” he announced with a bow, before he pulled his trousers back up. Geralt had also laced his trousers again and turned to Cynthia.
“Are you interested in an orgasm as well?” Geralt asked. He knew most clients didn’t care if a prostitute also came but also not all of them actually wanted to, so he liked asking if they wanted. She grinned at him.
“Sure, I know the things, your tongue can do.” She surely did, he had eaten her out a couple of times before. He grinned at her, before he grabbed her hips and lifted her up above his head. Her legs over his shoulder and her back against the wall for a little more stability. She was not wearing anything under her short skirt which made the whole thing a lot easier. She whelped at being hoisted up but laughed and dug her hands into his hair. He shortly glanced to Jaskier who watched them with a grin. Then he turned his attention to the task at hand. He pressed his lips against the soft wetness and inhaled the overwhelming scent of arousal. He licked a strip between her folds which made her shudder before he focused on licking and sucking at her clit. Her legs wrapped around him and she drew him in closer, started to move against him. It was a little hard to breath like that but he didn’t mind too much, he could hold his breath for a while. He heard her moan and giggle above himself and her fingers were tugging at his hair. He was clearly getting hard again. Apparently Jaskier had realized the same because he felt the bard’s arms wrap around him from behind and cup his erection.
“Hello darling, nice to see you’re having fun,” Jaskier said as he started to move his hand and jerked Geralt off through his trousers. Geralt’s hips bucked into the hand and he moaned. He needed to hold himself back as not to dig his fingers into Cynthia’s thighs, he knew she wouldn’t appreciate the bruises like Jaskier did. Her movements became more uncontrollable as she came. She tapped his head to let him know to let her down again. With shaking hands, he lowered her back to the ground. They weren’t shaking because of the weight but because Jaskier’s hands were doing their job really damn good.
“Really don’t know what everyone has against Witchers,” Cynthia laughed and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m getting my pay, when your done here.”
She knew they wouldn’t try to get out of paying. And she left them. Geralt leaned back against Jaskier and closed his eyes as Jaskier’s grip strengthened and brought Geralt to his second orgasm. Geralt turned around and put his arms around Jaskier, pulled him into a kiss.
“Maybe we should finally go somewhere more private,” Jaskier suggested after the kiss has ended. “You probably want to change your trousers.” Geralt hummed and kissed Jaskier again before he pulled Jaskier to the door. On their way they handed Cynthia a coin pouch.
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Vagos pt.3 - Play nice ... or not
Part 1 Lassiter? More like Assiter!
Part 2 In the Chief's office
The medic clears her after a grueling thirty minutes of anesthetic-less stitchwork — even a local anesthetic would have sufficed — ordering her to rest, and to get the wound properly looked at in the hospital. Like that’s going to happen, she thinks, pushing off from her lean on the table, thankful that her gun holster is no longer digging into her back. She moves to give Smith, who is crouched over packing his equipment, a handshake. When she notices the blood still clinging to her fingers, she thinks better of it, opting to send the medic a nod, and a quick ‘ thank you’ instead. Jewel exits the conference room to the sound of Smith whistling some Top 40’s pop song, smiling to herself when he misses a note.
She takes slow steps, eyes searching as she walks. She spots a uniform exiting the restroom, and heads that way, wanting to scrub her hands clean. The fluorescents of the bathroom do her no favors, highlighting the dark shadows under her eyes, and the even darker bruise blooming across her cheek. Jewel grimaces at her reflection, wanting nothing more than to shower the dust and grime away. She scrubs her hands, taking care to scrape blood from under her fingernails, until they’re pink from the hot water. After a moment's hesitation, she bends to wash her face, wiping the blood from her split lip, and eyebrow. She hears the thud of a utility belt being hooked on a stall, as she pats her face dry, studying herself in the mirror.
Not my best , she thinks, licking her split lip, but definitely better than all that heavy makeup . Even without last night’s makeup, she looks a far cry better than she had walking into the precinct this morning, which is saying something given the impressive black eye and bruise high on her cheekbone.
She exits the restroom with a sigh, carefully slipping back into her leather jacket as she enters the bullpen on her journey to leave. She stops in her tracks when she spots Lassiter and O’Hara working at their desks, rerouting towards them, instead. Home, well the dingy apartment she’s undercover at, and blissful sleep.. after writing up my report, of course …will have to wait. She stops in front of Lassiter’s desk, standing patiently with her hands clasped behind her back. After a moment of him ignoring her, her boot begins tapping impatiently on the tile, eyes trained on his salt and pepper hair as he bends over a file.
She bites her tongue, hard breath pushing out of her nose, before turning away. “ Carlton ,” O’Hara chides, disapprovingly at her partner. Jewel makes a step towards the female detective’s desk, before turning slightly, pausing as Lassiter finally looks up, at his partner first, then locks eyes with Jewel.
With a put-upon sigh, his narrowed eyes piercing under his furrowed brow, he finally growls, “What do you want?” Jewel scoffs. So much for trying to smooth things out , she thinks, shaking her head before fully making her way towards O’Hara’s desk, watching as Lassiter throws his arms up, out of the corner of her eye.
“Detective O’Hara,” Jewel nods amicably, projecting her voice enough that Lassiter can hear, a slight smile pulling at her split lip. “I figured it would be beneficial if the team saw the case file I’ve been putting together.” She glances at Detective Lassiter, who perks up at her words, face blank. “Would you like access to my files? I have them backed up securely online.” She and the other female detective share a smile, before O’Hara nods, moving to raise from her desk chair. “Oh no, please, sit. Sit . I’m sure you’re on your feet enough around here.” Jewel ignores the protest she can see forming on the blonde detective's kind face, opting to walk around the desk instead, so they both face the screen.
Jewel leans over, fighting a wince at the stretch, as she logs into the encrypted site, ignoring the asinine argument about breakfast cereals that Spencer and Guster are having across the desk. Personally, she thinks cocoa puffs far outshine fruit loops , but she’s not going to entertain the discussion… not outwardly anyway, she has a reputation to maintain, afterall. She prompts O’Hara to enter her work email so that she can share the files to the computer. While she’s at it, she interrupts the debate, eyes turning to Guster, “What’s your email?”
“What about mine?” Spencer questions, offended. Guster puffs out his chest, a sneer on his face as he looks from her to Spencer. The two suck their teeth at each other, much like when she first arrived this morning, before Guster punches Spencer in the arm, promptly shutting him up. The psychic , she doesn’t buy it, whines, hand clutching his bicep.
“I trust his internet security more than yours, Spencer.” Jewel hears a soft snort behind her, turning to find Assiter a few paces away, nonchalantly rifling through a filing cabinet. She rolls her eyes, turning back to the computer to share the files with the psychic duo. After a few moments of listening to Guster’s boasting over Spencer’s whining, she tunes her focus to behind her, listening to files rhythmically moving back and forth, scraping against the metal. “ Head Detective Lassiter ,” she drawls out, “would you like to deign us with your presence, and be granted access to my files?”
“Might as well,” he replies, an air of nonchalance to his deep voice, as he slams the drawer to the filing cabinet, hands empty. She’s barely brought up the sharing page, before he’s bodily forcing her out of the way, leaning past her to type in his email. The jostling causes her to bump into the desk, the connection sending a jolt of pain up her abdomen. Gritting her teeth, she hums, forcing a steadying breath through her nose. Prick .
“How bad is it,” O’Hara questions, kindly, motioning toward her stomach. Lassiter’s typing pauses for a moment as he, haughtily, glances back at Jewel, before he returns to his task. She shrugs, forcing the pain down, as she takes a step away from the Head Detective’s proximity.
“Stitching would’ve been better with some numbing cream, but a broken beer bottle can only do so much damage.”
“That is so cool,” Spencer exclaims, earning a glare from O’Hara and Guster.
Jewel chuckles around a wince. “It wasn’t cool when they smashed it on my face before stabbing me with it, but I agree…pretty cool.” They all freeze, even Assiter, turning to look at her with wide eyes. Spencer is the only one to smile back at her, offering her a fist bump, which she hesitantly returns, before he makes an explosion noise.
“Badass,” he beams, giving her a suggestive once over. She smirks back at him, before turning back to the others, who still seem perturbed.
“Oh, before I forget,” she starts, pulling out both of her phones, “I’ll need your contacts.” She steps around the desk, handing her work phone down the line, “this is the undercover one, so don’t use your full names, and please never use my name.” They finish going down the line, exchanging numbers, before she passes her second phone to repeat the process. “This is my personal, I guess, for normal working matters. I don’t carry it when undercover, so you might have to try both phones sometimes. And my name,” she air quotes, rolling her eyes, “is Gem , so it’s easy to remember, though all the bikers call me Brandy.” If it were her choice, it would have been something much cooler, but unfortunately, the ATF created the cover without her input. Maybe next time.
“Really, Gem , and Brandy ” Lassiter intones, head rolling forward over his crossed arms, dark brows raised. “ Classy .” His sarcasm is thick, a mild contempt dripping from his cold voice. “Pretty sure I’ve arrested a few of those.”
“Wasn’t my choice,” she replies, straightening to look him in the eyes, “but don’t worry Head Detective , they’re supposed to sound like stripper names, it’s my backstory,” she sneers. They glare at one another, Jewel refusing to back down to the Head Detective’s cold eyes. She feels victory blooming in her chest when an angry flush starts to spread upwards on his neck. The reverie is broken, however, when she feels a large, warm hand tap her shoulder. She sends one last narrow-eyed glare, before turning to see the tall, dark haired officer from before.
He smiles at her widely, apprehension on his face, as he holds out a disposable coffee cup. “Thought you might need this.” She takes it from him gratefully, a small smile gracing her lips at his gangly great-dane puppy energy. “I didn’t know how you take it, so I figured a cream and sugar should be safe,” he pauses, eyes widening, “unless you're lactose intolerant, oh man .”
She cuts him off before he can fret too long, sipping at the hot coffee. “It’s perfect, and surprisingly thoughtful… Officer McNabb, was it?”
He nods, extending a hand to shake, “Yup, Buzz McNabb.”
“Detective Stewart,” she smiles, “Now, McNabb, is there a firing range here? And if so, could you help a girl out and lead the way?” The officer enthusiastically nods, stepping back to allow her to grab her phones, log out of the encrypted site, and nod a goodbye.
“Shouldn’t you be going to relax,” O’Hara questions, concern in her kind blue eyes.
“That’s what I’m doing.” Jewel chuckles, shaking O’Hara’s hand before sending a wink Spencer and Guster’s way, steadfastly ignoring the Head Detective’s eyes following her. Yes , she thinks, shooting off a few rounds is just what I need to relieve some stress .
“Wow Lassie,” Guster states disapprovingly, as she walks away.
“Lassiter, you simple, lanky, irishman,” Spencer continues, voice fading as she follows McNabb away, “You talked to her for less than an hour, and she already needs to shoot things.”
Jewel chuckles around a mouthful of coffee. She can’t hear Lassiter’s reply, but can imagine the disdainful remark he surely throws her way. As if I'm the one who started it, Assiter.
#carlton lassiter#lassie#lassiter#psych#Shawn spencer#Burton guster#juliet o'hara#Carlton Lassiter fic#psych fic#Carlton Lassiter/OFC#lassie fic#Timothy omundson#Timothy Omundson fic#Carlton Lassiter x original female character#Vagos fic
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“Who’s the New kid?” (The 1st chapter to my Jack x reader Series) The reader will be using She/Her pronouns for the sake of this story’s concept. Ty!-
summary: When your parents decided to enroll you into Graysmark school, you never expected to be the only fucking female there.
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“Holy shit..”
you muttered under your breath when you stepped out of your dorm, when you toured Graysmark, it didn’t seem as big as it does now that you have to stay there for a whole fucking term.
Your uniform was simple. It was a white button up shirt, a black skirt, white tights, black dress shoes, and a black blazer with tiny a gray “G” sewed elegantly onto the left side of your chest. As you stepped out of the doorway of your dorm, you suddenly felt extremely confused.
“Where the hell am I supposed to go..?”
You began to wonder down the hallway glancing at your surroundings. The walls were a dull, no, VERY dull gray. The flooring was an elegant, dark wood pattern that made this school look straight up fucking EMO.
After probably 30 minutes of wandering down this disgustingly dark hallway, you stumbled upon, what you assumed, to be the library.
You pushed the dark, wooden doors open and was met with the fucking Narnia of books. Walls aligned with Sage green bookshelves, in which had black and gold engravings in them. You gasped softly and smiled. This was nice.
“OH! Hello! You must be the new student, right?”
You turned around to face the unknown source who somehow knew who you were.
It was an older man, probably around 40-45. He had sandy blonde hair with a sliver streak in the middle. His hair was slicked back and he looked very neat, with a gray suite and a maroon tie.
“Oh, yeah, that’s me. I’m Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you.” You said softly.
“Oh, Good, Good! I’ve been awaiting the day i’d meet you, sweetie! My name is Mr. Lauder, and I’m the librarian. I’m so glad you took the opportunity to enroll at this school, this school is, well..Boy-heavy, is a good way to put it.” He said awkwardly.
“Oh..Okay..?”
you didn’t know what to say to that. You just remained quiet until the man stuck up more conversation.
“Oh, you have class soon, Miss L/N. You’re joining us as a Third year, right?”
“Yes, yes I am.”
“Perfect! You’ll be in class 71, Biology for your age.”
“My age?”
“Yes, Yes! We have different wings and classrooms for different years.”
“Oh. Makes sense.”
“Alright, Graysmark is a difficult school to navigate, so just walk down the hallway to your left, take the stairs up two floors, and 71 should be the second classroom on the right. Good luck!”
You repeated all that in your head one to many times in your head, desperately trying to not get lost in this damned school.
“Okay, thank you for your help, Mr. Lauder. I’ll see you around, I guess?”
“Of course, sweetheart!”
you smiled and walked out of the library, repeating the directions in your head as you walked down the hallway. You found the sleek, black stairs that seemed endless. You walked up the stairs, mesmerized by the elegance and cleanness of these stairs. You stopped at a window and looked out, the forest outside was…breathtaking, at best. You could stare forever. You glanced at the clock above the window and you nearly screamed, you were THIRTY MINUTES LATE TO FUCKING CLASS. ON YOUR FIRST FUCKING DAY.
“SHIT!”
You ran up the next flight of stairs and took the hallway leading to your first class. You stopped at 71 and knocked on the door loudly.
A Young woman with long, curly red hair opened the door and smiled warmly.
“Hello, Sweetheart! You must be our new student. Come in, Come in!”
You fixed your hair, straightened your posture, and glided into the room.
Your jaw nearly. fucking. dropped.
You were standing in front of a crowd of males, all staring at you with wide eyes.
“Class, this is Y/N, our new student. I know, I know, she may be a girl, but give me a moment to explain. As you know, we were accepting new students that would join us in Third year, but, what we didn’t tell you we were accepting female students. Just to change up the way we were doing things around here. And, since some people aren’t very fond of this school, only one female has been able to join us. Due to the school year beginning, the opportunity to enroll has been stopped and will begin next term. Please welcome dear Miss Y/N with open arms.”
you mustered up the courage to softly smile. You were so dumbfounded, but questions could wait. It wouldn’t be THAT bad, right?
“Alright, sweetheart, you can take a seat next to Mr. Korrapati.”
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How was the first chapter? I hope you guys enjoy! I’ll probably work on chapter 2 in a hour or so. Idk.
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( MARGOT ROBBIE + FEMALE + SHE/HER ) 🠒 DADDY ISSUES by the neighborhood is something that resonates with BONNIE BEAUFORT. the doctor at glen ellen’s hospital is glen ellen's very own LOST SOUL , who has been in town for 15 years.while they are only thirty, they can be very IMPULSIVE but if their friends mentioned them, you'd think they were more OPEN MIND. in a town where every one knows everyone, it's hard to keep a secret, but i think the killer knows that { ----- }, and it's bound to get out sometime soon. i wonder if the killer also thinks of the rush of a babbling creek, lipstick stains around champagne glasses, the smell of money, glint of blonde locks under the full moon like i do, when i think of them. ( a , 29 , gmt , she her , no triggers. )
FULL NAME: Bonnie Blue Beaufort
NICKNAME(S): Boo, Blue, 3B, B etc
BIRTH PLACE: France, Lyon
AGE: 30
PRONOUNS: She/Her
RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single
PERSONALITY: INFP
CHILDREN: 2 (twins)
SHORT BIO
tw: pregnancy, death, abuse, drugs
Bonnie was born in France, in a city called Lyon. Her mother died when she was born, and he never married again, but always blamed Bonnie for her mother's death.
She never had a good relationship with her father, in fact he was very abusive towards her.
At 15 she moved to the USA, to a small city, and her father with her decision to press a button to restart their lives.
Bonnie expected that her father changed his behavior, but he never get better. At the least in this new city, she had an uncle and aunt that is almost second parents to her and every time her father wasn't well, she had to stay with them.
She always was a very good student but her depression always took its way on her. She wasn't popular at school.
Bonnie got a full scholarship to a university to do medicine. She is a cardiologist.
One night she met a guy, which led her to pregnancy. Much to her surprise she was expecting twins.
When she was close to the birth of the twins, the babies' father in one night said he would buy a cigarette and he never come home.
She carries on with her life and raises the twins on her own.
MORE TO BE ADD SOON, WHILE I FIGURED OUT MY MUSE...
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