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#people will have no idea what this au is about unless they look at my past posts about it
middlingmay · 2 days
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Soldier!Bucky AU
This idea has been floating around in my head for a while, but:
Bucky was never a pilot before the war. He wanted to join the airforce when the war started, but it stressed Mama Egan TF out so he "settled" for the Army.
He climbs the ranks quickly, still becomes a Major quite young, and is aces at quelling disputes because he can turn anything into a joke (usually with himself as the butt of it, but people aren't arguing when they're laughing together, right? May as well be at him.)
The Brass are well aware of the less than stellar relationship the Army boys have, and as well as "cultural lessons" before they ship out to Britain and the rest of Europe, Bucky finds himself informally appointed as his squad's babysitter.
Which he doesn't like. Because the higher ups have mistaken his charisma for responsibility. Which Bucky hates more than those drab army coats.
Speaking of which, he still has the sheepskin! He won it off an airman at a card game, and refuses to wear anything else. He's gotten in trouble for this many times, but his superior officer more or less gave up after he used it to get his guys out of some trouble.
With the RAF. Who, yep, he still hates. Because he admires the fuck out of the US Airforce.
So the RAF are insulting some US soldiers in a pub, but pretending they're not. But Bucky notices the worst culprit is a lieutenant. And a fight is brewing because his guys are bored, and spats have been breaking out for weeks now, and his CO genuinely might shoot them all if there's another issue.
So he swaggers up to the RAF lieutenant, introduces himself as Major Egan (which tips his boys off to the fact he's up to something, because Bucky never pulls rank unless some shit is going down).
But he's still an American, so the RAF Lieutenant isn't entirely swayed, until he turns around to face Bucky (because of course he just walked on up behind the boy and he knows he's "a big lad" as that farmer's wife called him, and he enjoys taking people by surprise). RAF Lieutenant is face-to-neck with Bucky who's grinning down at him, and his fellow Brits mutter "No worries, Sir," and that's that.
Towards the end of the war, he's in Europe. Has been there for some time. Got separated from his men and captured by the Germans and still ran through the forest starving and afraid, and almost killed a kid, and faced down a blood thirsty mob and escaped from a pile of dead bodies with brain on his cheek - but he still considers himself lucky. Because he got away and rejoined his men.
And they're looking for POWs - their own and allied men. They've heard about the stalags and the camps and the death marches, and they're doing their bit not to lose a single man. And Bucky, who knows what it's like to be afraid and alone and close to death out here, is zealous about that mission.
They're about a day away from the Danube, when two men stumble upon their unit at night, frozen, shaking, barely able to keep to their feet.
Airmen.
American Airmen.
Bucky barks out orders and opens his canteen and holds it up to the man nearest him. Hair that might have been blonde. Blue eyes - like the song. And he had no idea then and there that he'd just met Gale Cleven, who was going to talk Bucky into doing something very risky and very stupid to save a column full of allied airmen - just because he looked him in the eyes and said softly, "Please, Major. I just left them alone - help me save my men."
It was the first of many, many dumbass things he would do in the name of Gale Cleven.
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darkstarlight82 · 2 days
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🎥Light, Camera, Cum🎥
💦Camboy!Keigo x Fem!reader AU💦
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I never thought that I would be one of "those people". I always thought that people like that where off. But when I saw my first cam boy I was hook. My roommate got me a one month membership of any guy I wanted for my birthday and oh was it an experience. I was so nervous at first and I had no idea what I was doing and I didn't want to look anything up online.
What if the government got a hold of my search history and put me in jail for something naughty. I just started a new job and this would look so bad. I was really scared so I put on the message bored that I was new and I had no clue what to do. Their was a really very nice guy that help me browse the website.
I don't know what came over me but I asked him "Do have a link for your part of the site?" I can't believe that came out of my mouth. I was so shocked at what I said. As I was about to tell him never mind when I got a message in my DM box with his name and a link.
When I clicked on it a web cam picture popped up and what I saw on my screen made my heart fall to the floor. There sat the most handsome, sexiest, fuckabel man I have ever saw. His hair was as gold as a field of wheat. His eyes could put the most richest honey to shame and his body OMG his body. A Greek god would blush and how hard and chiseled his abs were, and with that voice of his.
I thought that I was looking into a different world. We could take our eyes off of each other. I was the first to speak. "Umm... Hi do uh umm do I call you Keigo or do I use a different name when I talk.." My rambling was cut off by his heavenly laugh. "It's okay to call me Keigo my little song bird. If that is what you want to call me?" His voice was soft like velvet and smooth like silk.
I couldn't think straight, my mind was all mush. "I feel more comfortable with your name. Now I have a question and I want you to be honest with me. Can other people see us or is this just us on this link?" He gave me another heavenly laugh. "No song bird it's just you and me. It's like we are in a chat room. No one can see or hear us. Now I do have a room where it's a live feed, I have a donation box that shows the user and the amount they give me, but they can't chat with me unless they send me a DM." When I took a better look and what I could see of his room I could see that he has a lot of different toys and clothes. "Is all that from your donations from your other clients?" When he turned his head to look behind him my body froze and I felt my puss start to water. The muscles of his neck and side flexed in such a way, I had to bite me lip to quite the moan that left my lips.
And I kid you not. I saw his body shivering and his ears turn pink. 'Oh shit did he hear me. Fuck that was hot.' He cleared his throat and turned back you me. "Yes and no. A lot are from sponsors and others are from fans." Knowing what he does I know I should have expected that but for some reason that made me uncomfortable. "Oh well that's understandable." He could tell someone was off so he changed the subject real quick. "So....tell me a little something about yourself song bird." I could tell he was trying to pull me away from the awkward moment we just had. "Well was their anything you want to know, I'm an open book."
He made himself a little more comfortable at his chair. "What is the reason your here. A cute little thing doesn't happen to just show up it of the blue?" I shifted in my seat a bit felling a bit embarrassed. "My roommate got me a one month membership to see if I was going to like something like this." He leaned in his chair closer to the monitor. "Oh really what a nice friend. You want to know something? That's kind of hot." The way the word "hot" rolled of his tongue send a shiver down my spine. His words were like silk to me. "So let me guess you want to use you membership on me for the whole month?" I sat myself straight in my chair. I looked dead at the screen into his honey riched eyes, readying my resolve. "You better believe it and with how much I don't know what I'm doing you better go easy on me."
Again I swear I saw him shiver. "Alright my little song bird I will so nice...(I saw him rub is hand down his chest) and easy. My eyes where glue to the screen. His hands moved ever so softly over his body. "Hey song bird how about we go to somewhere more comfortable?" I looked at him a little nervous. He gave the oh so heavenly laugh. "I mean let's move to over beds. This will be a little more enjoyable for us both." I swallowed hard and shook my head 'yes' ready fast. "I guess someone is really eager." He said as he got himself onto his bed. Seeing him lay their his legs spread, in his black boxer-briefs shirtless his right hand on his thigh and his left hand one his abs, I stared to feel myself start to get wet.
"Don't you think your a little over dressed? Making feel like I'm some piece of meat. What a bad girl. If that doesn't change, I don't think you will get this present I have for you." He said to me as I see him take his hand and palm his self over his boxers. And to this day I still don't know how the hell I managed to get undressed so fast. Now as I say their in nothing but my bra and panties the whole experience was so real and I never felt more alive. "Is this better Keigo?" As his eyes ran over my body I could see his cock jump and become harder. "My god song bird your beautiful." He said as I watched him slip his hands into his boxers and started to rub himself. His words pulled something in my belly as I moved my heads to my breasts pulled softly as my harding nipples.
"Oh~ fuck song bird I'm the one that's supposed to get you all hot and bothered. Fuck this is new." I moved my hand down my stomach down to my pussy taking my fingers and rubbing them over my covers clit. "Fuck Keigo I'm so wet what do you want me to do?" Keigo's eyes blew wide with lust and need. "Shit that's my line but fuck that was hot. Touch yourself and tell me how good it feels." Keeping my eyes locked on the screen watching him go faster up and down on his cock I put my hand down my panties and ran my middle finger over my slit. "Oh holy fuck that feels good." He slowly removed his boxer. "Take off for panties and let me see how much fun your having." I shook my head and took them off and turned to the camera.
"How's this?" I asked as I put my fingers in to my hole. "Ohhh fuck that a good girl. So nice." I moan loudly at his praise. He moved his hand faster now as his tip leaked heavily with pre-cum. "Well shit (his voice was coming out in short breaths) someone has a praise kink. That is so sexy let me hear more my sweet little song bird. So good for me." I yelled out again. "Fuck fuck fuck Keigo this is amazing oh God." I could feel myself getting close and I wanted to see the god-like being in front of we reach his end and I wounded how pretty he would be. "Oh holy fuc..I'm cumming Keigo I'm cumming." He had his eyes fixed on me now watching as I squirted hard. "Oh shit song bird say my name again please be good for me and say it again." I felt myself cum again at his words "Oh Keigo yes.. so good for you fuck Keigo Keigo KEIGO!" As I came again I watched as this god of a man shot thick white ribbons of cum all over his abs and hand.
As I watched him clean himself up I had to ask him. "Why do you do this. You seem like a smart guy can't you find anything better?" He looked at me a little confused. "Well yeah I work at the college that's down the street from my house. I'm a professor their. 'Well shit I didn't peg him as that smart.' "I you don't mind me asking what school do you teach at?" I asked him as I was putting my clothes back on. "Oh I work at UA state. I'm the animal biology teacher." My heart hit the floor and I could feel the color leave my face. "No you can't be...." "Yeah I just start working their on Friday it was a bummer that I couldn't meet the Into to human science teacher. I hear she was really cute." As I looked at the screen I saw the most sexiest but terrifying shit eating grin on his face. "Trust me Y/N your secret is safe with me. I just hope that my little song bird will see me this weekend at my place and reenact what happened tonight."
That was when I first met my now husband and ex-camboy experience.
@arlerts-angel @side-blog-for-fics @tokyo-chainsaw-dragon @tomuraslut @i-literally-cant-with-this @tootiecakes234 @ambassadorarlert @katkusuo @katie91239 @xxj-t @romantichomicide95 @tired-teacher-blog @astriddestelle @sweetchildcloud @bleach-your-panties @pamakali @tojilovr @k1ssyoursister @lucysarah-c @xdyrknymphx @seireiteihellbutterfly @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @sixpennydame @shonen-brainrot @kazutora-kurokawa
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grandpuppyalpaca · 2 days
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I Want To Actually Write Some Fics
So, I'm finally moving to a dorm away from "home" in a few months, and I want to take the opportunity to finally start writing some of the fanfics that have been calibrating in the back of my mind.
Warnings in advance:
I will only be writing fanfic, not original works.
I have never shared or published fics before (Unless you count reading the occasional snippet in Creating Writing Club).
As of right now, I have no beta(s).
Don't know my college schedule/workload yet, so no ideas about how often I could post/update at the moment.
I likely won't be able to post anything until I have access to a computer at the college (presumably in August, sorry about that), because the closest thing I have to an unmonitored/unrestricted device at "home" is my outdated Kindle Fire tablet (where the secondary browser I downloaded to hide reading fics sometimes likes to crash every few minutes).
If you've read past all of that and are still interested in my possible future writings, here are the possible options for what I could actually post:
Azure Fingerprints: Title of a possible series based off of this idea (batman and megamind crossover). > (Time travelers have realized that Bruce Wayne will always, without exception, base his crimefighting persona on the first thing... – @grandpuppyalpaca on Tumblr)
Featuring (so far): a delayed start to "Batman's" career, SuperBat friendship, Bruce's poor social skills, the not-yet-"Batcave" getting turned into a babyproofed nursery, and lots of fluff and crack and FEELINGS. Not sure if other parts of the series would be other longfics in that world, or just little snippets of stuff.
2. Anna Elizabeth Wayne (Actual Title TBD): My take on an Annabeth is Bruce Wayne's daughter fic.
Featuring (so far): Show!Annabeth (Leah Jeffries is phenomenal), Reverse Batkids AU (with a twist or so), an Athena characterization based on Circe by Madeline Miller, GoodDad!Bruce, multiverse stuff (only a little at the moment), Siblings Bonding Over Weird Childhoods, and So Much ANGST. This one is reallllly complicated, so it might be a series just so I can include one of those "explanation of the writer's AU" pages. Not as much of a plot as it is ANGST, small ideas for individual scenes, and general vibes right now.
3. The Adventures Of Lulu And Hatchling: probably the title of first fic (probably backstory stuff) in what would likely be a series. Crossover between ACOTAR universe and PJO/HOO (I am NOT ACTUALLY merging the two worlds). Basic background is that Annabeth's mortal family are the descendants of an illegitimate child from a kept mistress of Tamlin's father, and Annabeth is the first person to have powers from their bloodline. Baby Annabeth gets sent to grow up with Tamlin (Watsonian reasons would be explained in-story), but Lucien unofficially becomes her main caretaker. She spends seven years in the Spring court (pre-Amarantha even coming to Prythian), then is returned home in time for all PJO relevant events to occur. This would NOT be a Complete Re-Write Of PJO Canon.
Featuring (so far): Multiverse stuff, Annabeth w/fae powers, Book!Annabeth description so she can look like Tamlin (Leah Jeffries is still phenomenal, fight me), Lucien's gradually increasing blood pressure, Found Family Fluff, Lucien being a good father/uncle/older brother figure, Tamlin not being a complete alphahole in the beginning, Eventual Tamlin Bashing anyway, Ianthe Bashing (once she joins the story).
Definite intentions for later parts of the story: Powerful!Annabeth High Lady!Annabeth, Consort!Percy (he refuses to become High Lord, especially when he can just vibe and technically hold the official title of Least Politically Important Person At This Meeting), Tamlin's manor getting abandoned and Annabeth employing people to help build a new one that she designs, Inter-Court Meetings between all the courts becoming a Regular Thing (bc I want to put all the little dudes in a jar, shake them up, and study the results under a microscope), Inter-Court politics, gradually undermining the patriarchy, Inter-Court friendships, Beron taking psychic damage from the sheer audacity of---, Everyone Bonding Over Hating Beron, Positive Social Change, and Me Adding My Own Additional Lore To The World Of Prythian.
Optional fun fact! The base story could take multiple paths after TTC, so it would be the most likely fic to eventually make me write one or more AUs of itself, so here's later random details of the story that may or may not be added depending on which timeline I write: Tamlin dies, Tamlin gets locked up in his own house and told that Annabeth is willing to talk to him once he's "being more rational". Beron has a brain aneurysm in the middle of an Inter-Court Meeting and dies, Percy and Annabeth somehow creating a plan to get away with sending Beron off for the Hunters and Amazons to hunt him for sport, Amarantha kills Tamlin and is shortly killed by Annabeth before ACOTAR would have happened, Rhysand and Annabeth become Very Fast Friends and make fun of people together, and Doreen Green (Squirrel Girl) becomes Annabeth's spymaster bc that would just have so much comedic potential, fight me (she's honest about that being her job [if not explaining the details of how she does it] and she's just so open and friendly and polite that it has to be a hoax, right? there's no way she's actually in charge of collecting real intelligence. she has a network of squirrels who pass info to her across the entire continent? oh right, because of the tail, very funny. some of us are actually taking this seriously, Tarquin).
4. Lightning Rod, Grounding Wire: Approximate title for a crossover AU where Agatha Heterodyne (Girl Genius) and Hunter (The Owl House) end up swapping places right before Barry would have gotten Agatha (exact explanations undecided, maybe Belos let the Collector get too bored?) and about the same time Hunter was created (with Hunter being a couple years older than her biologically). Longfic? Series? Who knows, not me(yet).
In the Boiling Isles: Agatha is initially raised by Belos in something a bit similar to the get in loser we're assassinating the emperor - elliptical - The Owl House (Cartoon) [Archive of Our Own] AU, but it's Agatha (Spark, Heterodyne, etc.) so she gets on the wrong side of the empire way quicker. I'm thinking that she wouldn't make it more than a couple years after her breakthrough (w/o Uncle Barry to build her locket) before she starts spouting Extremely Logical Treason in meetings. Mostly, Canon occurs but minus Hunter (I'm going off the theory that Belos had to reuse the same galderstone for each grimwalker, so in this he's permanently down one(1) clone child soldier) and with way more explosions.
Meanwhile, over in Europa: Barry quickly deduces that this Very Small Child isn't Bill and Lucrezia's, is definitely some kind of construct, and is likely part of some kind of plot by Lucrezia (the man's stressed, and 2ish out of 3 ain't bad). Barry's not the kind of spark who'll try to vivisect or euthanize the kid just to stop Lucrezia, so his best bet is hiding him away from the world. Hunter grows up considering himself a construct, in time gets left with the "Clays", and lives a somewhat less stressful life than Agatha would have pre-canon. Everything goes passably well for him until the first events of "The Beetleburg Clank".
Featuring (so far): The rapidly increasing blood pressure of Every Adult in this situation, young Agatha being a feral gremlin, Hunter actually having a childhood, if Eda had a a nickel for every time a semi-feral teenage girl built an interdimensional portal in her back yard she'd have two nickels, SO MANY mistaken identity shenanigans after Agatha and Hunter actually meet, eventual Huntlow and Agatha/Gil/Tarvek OT3, and Eda menacing All The Sparks.
Now that I'm thinking about it, the only one of these that wouldn't need an explanation page is number one.
I do have more ideas on all four of these (as well as other vague ideas still calibrating), but this post is pretty long so I'd need a request from someone before I give more info.
Please comment/reblog/@ me with your thoughts!
For future reference, my Ao3 account is:
Update: Okay guys, I tried to edit one of the words in the title of the poll and it wouldn't let me do that so I just remade the poll but forgot to set the length to one week. If you're still interested in voting, there's another poll pinned on my blog, or you can just comment what you're interested. Even after the polls end, I will be officially taking thoughts/questions/feedback up until August.
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myearts-uwu · 2 years
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WMMAP Baker!Myra AU post
Myra is the one in charge of baking small pastries like cookies at the bakery she works at in this AU and Anastacius prefers to be the unofficial taste tester of the bakery even though he’s in charge working at the front counter (His looks definitely attracted a lot more customers when he finally was able to walk around a bit and can work at the bakery).
While the owner of the bakery, Andrei, hates it when Anastacius slacks off during work just to taste Myra’s cookies, the young lady doesn’t mind it at all and lets him try one from each batch she made. When they have a close enough bond, she’d even start feeding him the baked goods she made.
... And when Anastacius finally leaves the bakery as well as leaving the main capital, he’s always reminded of the food Myra made for him and how he’d feel this... warm feeling whenever he sees her smile when he tells her that her food was delicious.
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its such a small thing in the scheme of all the things that annoy me about the show macgyver 2016 
but the thing that most annoys me might be in s1e6 wrench 
theyre talking the whole episode about the ‘peace talks at the un’ and they never specify any countries involved or what conflict theyre talking about
it seems like a massive multilateral it just really really annoys me that they repeatedly say peace talks and were supposed to just accept that oh yeah peace talks thats what happens at the un
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i-cant-sing · 27 days
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To that one thought about the different monarchs YES TO ALL
Ahahaha im so glad so many people liked that idea (OG post here), so ive decided to work on it. So, lets set the story okay? (also btw do not @ me with historical inaccuracies and dates because i simply dont care about all of this that deeply). This AU will have multiple parts, where reader gets to travel through different time periods (and some of them will be real historic figures, others would be created by me).
Reader is a scientist, was working on her time machine (which is just a small box with time/year slots on it), and decides to travel to the past to solve some mysteries, or perhaps simply for the love of history.
So, where does reader travel to first?
1180. Landing right in the kingdom of Jerusalem. And who does she meet?
King Baldwin IV- the leper king.
Reader wanted to see how leprosy, a deadly disease at the time, had affected the king, who despite his conditions, still managed to possess great military strategies and IQ. And how even though his people knew about his outcome, still pledged their loyalty and unwavering support.
You, a scientist of the modern time ofc brought along futuristic gadgets with you. Knowing how youd look in your present era clothes, you wore a watch that allowed you to change into clothes of old times, to blend in easily. All of your gadgets were concealed easily because of their "invisibility cloak" feature.
You made your way towards the castle, making sure to not let awe be apparent in your face as you took in your surroundings, thinking of all the questions youd like to ask the wise king. Of course, you had to make sure you dont do anything to disturb the historic timeline, because then it just might lead to disastrous results.
Getting into the castle was easy, after all you had equipment to sneak you in undetected. You looked around as the servants rushed around, talking about making the arrangements perfect for the feast. You figured out that the feast was probably for another victory the king had gotten, which meant that everyone would be too busy to notice you snooping around.
With everyone engaged downstairs, you had your way up to the king's study, where you opened the door only to be met with a tall burly man standing there, looking surprised to see you.
"Who are you?" He barked, and you got the worst vibes from this man.
"Uh- Im a servant!" You said,backing up a little, just in case you needed to make a run. The man narrowed his eyes as he looked you up and down. "A servant? No servants are allowed in the king's study!"
"The king sent me here." You lied. "And why are you here if servants are not allowed?"
The man's eyes widened in rage before grabbing you by the neck. "Because Im not a servant, fool! I'm his brother in law!" He shook you hard. "And I dont think youre a servant, if you couldnt recognise me! I will have your head, spy!"
"GUY!" Someone yelled from behind you, making Guy look up as his grip around your neck loosened. "Let her go!"
"Your majesty, she's a spy-"
"She's a servant. I sent her up to retrieve my papers." Guy let you go, as you quickly turned around to see him- King Baldwin. You bowed to him as you gave him a glance, noticing his piercing gaze through his iron mask. His gaze shifted from you to Guy. "And what were you doing here, Guy?"
"I was looking for Sibylia, your majesty." He said.
"In my study? My sister is waiting for you downstairs. Go." Guy scrambled away with his tail tucked between his legs, while you watched as the king made his way into his study, leaving you outside.
You took a step back, about to leave-
"Well, come on in." He called you. You ponder over it for a second before walking in. Look, how many times can you meet a historical figure like him?
Baldwin was sitting in his chair, his eyes looking at you through his mask. "So, who are you and what were you doing here? And dont bother lying, unless you want to be tortured for attempted assassination on the king."
You bit your lip before sighing. "Im Y/n L/n." Clasping your hands together, you took a deep breath. "I came here because... I wanted to know about you."
He rested his chin on his palm. "Why? Do you not know about the king of Jerusalem? Where are you from?" He's not vain, but he knows that his numerous victories have made him popular over the years. So why do you not know of him? Or his brother in law, Guy, who is very vain.
"Im from nowhere. For as long as I can remember, Ive been travelling from place to another. Of course, Ive heard about you, but... I crave to know more." You said, partly telling the truth because you do want to know more about him.
His eyes remained on you, the same intense gaze. "And why should I allow you to know more? Do you mistake yourself to be worthy enough to even be in the presence of a king?"
Shit. He was trying to put you in the corner. You had to play this smart.
You smiled softly. "Of course not. Then again, none of us are worthy of anything God blesses us with." You paused, letting the words settle. "Your majesty, I only wish to know more about you because I like to write. I like to write about history, and when one day, God forbid, you succumb to your illness, wouldn't you like to be known for more than just your victories?" You'd read about how Baldwin IV was a fan of history and stories.
His eyes stared at you- no, through you. Unmoving, he replied. "Man shouldnt be so narcissistic to have someone write about his deeds."
You gave a nod. "Jesus wasnt a narcissist. Neither was Mary, nor Abraham. Muhammad wasnt a narcissist either, yet theyre mentioned in books- holy books, nonetheless."
The room fell silent for a few seconds, before he spoke. "True. But why should I have you write it, instead of using one of my scribes?"
"Precisely for the reason you just said." You raised your head a bit. "They'd write never ending praises for you, portray you as this omnipotent ruler, make you look like a narcissit even. I have a keen eye, your majesty. I like to look at what there is beyond the surface. If you let me be your scribe, I could write about details you dont even know. Id write about your strengths as well as weaknesses, for the generations to read and learn from you."
Baldwin remained still for a few moments before finally standing up, walking directly towards you until he was face to face. His blue eyes shining bright under his iron mask.
"I will let you write, under two conditions. First- I approve what gets to be in the book. And second... you spy for me."
"Wait, spy?"
He hummed. "Well, not a conventional spy. You wont have to leave this castle and penetrate enemy territories to eavesdrop. I still dont trust you enough. No- you- you will spy on my court. I want to know what is happening, when, where, and who says what." Under his mask, he raised a brow. "Do you accept?"
You pretended to hesitate, when in reality this was the exact situation you wanted to be in. "Hmm... yes. I accept."
"Good." He walks back towards his desk. "I expect that it goes without saying- complete discretion." You smiled. "Of course, your majesty."
-
Months passed by as you worked for the king. He let you in on details, allowed you to ask personal questions, and in return you kept an eye on everything that happened in court. Listening on to what the servants whispered to eavesdropping on "secret meetings" of the nobles- of course, headed by Guy. Oh how you loathed that vermin's guts. No- he had no guts. A spineless creature, who blatantly talked of the king's eventual demise and all the ways he'd make the kingdom flourish again, how he'd show "no mercy to Salauddin and his muslims". You have no idea how Sibylla was attracted to him- a man who plans her brother's demise openly.
As for the king, working with him- or for him, wasnt all bad. In fact, it was quite fun. The amount of stories, the secrets youve been able to discover- none of it could ever be found in any history book. Most of all, you respect Baldwin on a whole new level now.
His struggles, ever since he was kid- not being a legitmate ruler, his parents being forced to separate, then being diagnosed with leprosy but forced to keep it a secret, the competition with his other sibling to be the heir, and of course, even when he did become the king, he still had to prove his mettle- his worth that he's worthy of ruling even with his disease.
With his life expectancy being uncertain and a huge amount of responsibility being shovelled onto him, he had to learn a lot and master various skills in very short time.
Heavy is the head that wears the crown.
Y/n could only imagine how isolated he must feel. Not being able to touch anyone, to have a significant other, to constantly win battles and do everything in your power to help the kingdom flourish, just for him to not even be alive to enjoy the fruits of his efforts. And worse, he's forced to give it away to his brother in law, that useless piece of shit.
Its one thing that confuses you about Baldwin. You know how persistent he is, how when he sets his eyes on something, he does everything in power and BEYOND to achieve it. For example, when he was only a child and had started to lose the ability to use his hands, he quickly learned to use his thighs to steer his horse. He did not let his disease hold him back, so how does a person as motivated as him simply allow his kingdom to be left in the hands of someone as incapable as Guy?
Then again, you suppose he's doing it for the sake of his sister. Baldwin adores Sibylla, and you could see why. Sibylla was his older sister, she took care of him, and she was forced to marry early because the court would only allow Baldwin to be king IF she were married, so that when Baldwin dies of leprosy, her husband could take care of the kingdom. Baldwin views it as the ultimate sacrifice, so even though he has tried to separate his sister from Guy, she has refused because she's in love with him.
God knows how. You wondered. Guy does not have any redeeming qualities, then again youre thinking like a 21st century woman. Woman of this time had the bar for men set below the deepest level in hell.
"So, what do you have for me today?" Baldwin asked you, snapping you out of your thoughts. You sighed, shaking your head. "Nothing new, really. Your brother in law, pardon my language your majesty, has been spewing shit about how he'll make the kingdom great again when you die. But when those nobles ask him how, he either has no answer and tries to cover it up by saying its a secret, or he'd say something so ridiculous- his ideas are bound to not only fail, but actually destroy the kingdom even more. I am surprised he doesnt give himself a headache by his own voice. God knows i get one whenever he opens his mouth." You complained, rubbing your temples making the king chuckle. Baldwin seemed to enjoy how informally you spoke.
"Guy is... something else. I apologise on his behalf." You could sense him smiling under his mask. You gave a small smile, but truthfully, your head was actually hurting a lot. You could only hope this was not a migraine developing.
"Would you like tea? Or wine?" He asked as he called in a servant. "Just water for me, thank you." You said, closing your eyes for a few moments as the sharp ache in your head increased.
Baldwin's eyes remained on you, a calculated gaze. "Are you alright? Should I call in the physician?" You shook your head. As if you could trust physicians of this time. "No, I'll be fine after I sleep." You have some medical potions with you that could heal your basic diseases and pains. A gift of modern medicine. But you'll have to use it discreetly, lest someone from this era discovers it and calls you a witch.
The servant soon brought in a chalice filled with water for you and you immediately took a sip of the cool water. Baldwin stood up as he walked over to the window, looking out into the dark night.
"Can I ask you something personal?" You asked. He hummed. You stared at his back, the white cloak he was dressed in. "Do you think if you never had this disease, would you still be a great king? A king who is so motivated to make his kingdom as successful as he can before his time is up?"
He looked back at you, and for a second you wondered if you had slighted him. But these past few months, you've learned to read his body language, despite how hard he conceals both himself and his thoughts.
"No." He said, turning back to the window. "I probably would've been a spoiled brat, I don't think I would've even been chosen to be king. I would've lost it to my half brothers." He tilted his head as he looked at a particular star in the sky. "I suppose my disease is a blessing. God blessed me with it to humble me. Had He not, I probably wouldn't be religious."
"And is that how you see your suffering? A blessing from God?" You asked as you pulled out the medical vial from your cloak and poured it in your chalice. Your headache had started to pulsate now and you needed this.
"I do. I have to serve my people, and my suffering has brought me closer to them and to God. And even with my disease, I was made a king. Isn't that divine intervention? My purpose on earth?" He said almost monotonously, as if he's had this conversation a thousand times.
You took sip of your medicated water, headache immeadiately reducing in intensity. "So... if you had the chance, would you still be the leper king? Or would you be healthy but... not a king? Just a man who gets to experience life like the rest of us, eat normal food, play with others, walk without having to wear a mask, or even fall in love?"
He remained silent, but his shoulders dropped ever so slightly. Tired? Or defeated?
"I prefer not to think about things I have no control over, Y/n." He finally turned around and his blue eyes looked at yours, though this time, there was something else swirling in them. "Finish your water and head to bed. I don't think you're well enough to tell me a story tonight." You smiled gratefully. Over these past few months, the king had enjoyed the modern world stories you told him. Some were literature classics, like Romeo and Juliet, others were straight up fanfic plots with details missing because he wouldn't have understood them anyways.
You were about to pick up your chalice when suddenly Baldwin fell to the ground.
"Your Majesty!" You rushed over to him, watching him tremble on the ground as he struggled to breathe. You dropped to your knees and attempted to remove his mask, only for him swat your hand away.
"No! You'll get it too!" He said, his eyes screwing shut in pain. He was worried about you contracting leprosy.
"Just- trust me." You pursed your lips as you moved his hand away and removed his mask, before removing the white veil underneath it, which was there to prevent his peeling skin and sores from sticking to the iron mask.
You didn't gasp when you saw his disfigured face. No, you'd seen it already when they constructed his face using modern technology. You touched his forehead with your palm, noticing how warm it was. This was one of his leprosy fevers, it was serious and quiet painful. But you already know he doesn't die until 1185 and it's still 1180.
"I'll go fetch the physician-"
"No!" Baldwin yelled, struggling to breathe. "No- just-" He suddenly whimpered as pain shot through every fiber of his body, making him dig his heels into the ground. Your heart wrenched at the sight.
"Its- too- hot- i-" you looked around before grabbing your chalice and bringing it to his lips, holding his head in your lap, you helped him drink the water. He drank it all, his forehead now covered in sweat and his face still contorted in pain. You held his hand and squeezed it.
"Its okay, Baldwin. I'm here. I'm right here." You whispered, his head resting in your lap as you gently wiped his forehead with your sleeve.
Baldwin stared up into your worried eyes, and that was the last thing he saw before he passed out.
-
Baldwin woke upto screaming. Opening his eyes, his blurred vision slowly cleared upto watch you and Guy screaming at each other, the latter had his hand clawed into your hair.
"WHO DO YOU THINK YOURE TALKING TO, YOU WENCH?!" Guy yelled as he shook you harshly.
"A SPINLESS BEING NOT WORTHY OF BEING CALLED A MAN!" You spat back, eyes red with rage.
Guy's eyes widened at the insult before he raised his hand to strike you, but was stopped by Baldwin.
"Guy! Let her go!" Both of your heads snapped towards the king.
"Y-your Majesty?" Guy couldn't believe his eyes. He survived?
"I said- let. Her. Go!" Baldwin commanded as he stood up and walked over to them, making Guy immeadiately let you go and bow to him. Baldwin's eyes landed on you, and you gave him a small bow.
"Leave." Baldwin commanded, eyes fixed on you.
Guy looked up from his his bowing position. "Your Majesty, I'm so glad you're well-"
"I said, LEAVE!" Baldwin's voice boomed, his eyes never leaving yours. Guy scrambled put of the room quickly, and you started to leave as well, but Baldwin grabbed your wrist.
"Not you." He said, those blue eyes piercing into you. "I- how long was I out?"
"2 weeks." You replied.
Baldwin let out small gasp as he let go of your hand and slowly walked towards the mirror in his room. It was quiet for a minute.
"What... happened?" He asked, looking at his reflection.
"Well, after you fainted, I called in the physicians and they took you to your chambers. They had prepared some medication but were hesitant to apply it on you, fearing they'd contract your disease. So, I convinced them to let me do it since I had already touched you. When I was done, your sister, princess Sibylla and Guy came. Guy asked the physicians when you would be dying, and the physicians said a few days and that this time- you may not wake up from your fever. While your sister broke down, and honestly I'm not trying to create problems for you guys, but you could ask anyone and they'd tell you just how much Guy beamed at the news. Anyways, they both left soon after that. Things were quite for a week, with the physicians coming in to give me the medication to apply on you. Then-" you paused trying not to show your frustration in your voice. "In the second week, Guy started fussing around and throwing tantrums since you didn't die yet. I mean, I was in your room but I could still hear him yelling at the physicians outside about how his coronation was being delayed because you were still here. It pissed me off, but you know me- I'm not one to get into family matters. So I didn't do anything. Then today-! Ugh, he came in while I was in your bathroom and I saw him grabbing a pillow and bringing it near your face. He stopped when I chucked your bible at him- so sorry about that but it was nearest thing next to me- and I just asked what he was doing. And do you know what he said? He had the nerve- THE NERVE to say 'I'm just trying to end his suffering, in fact you should do it. I can't risk contracting leprosy, I'm the future king!' And then I chucked your golden cross at him- again very sorry for that. And then we got into an argument and well- that's what you woke up to."
It was quiet again. You looked at Baldwin staring at his reflection, and for a moment, you thought he wasn't listening to you.
Baldwin nodded. "Okay. Thank you, Y/n. You may go to your room now. I will send in some physicians to check if you've contracted leprosy."
You frowned. "I havent-" but you stopped. How were you supposed to explain to him that you're "vaccinated".
In the mirror, his eyes shifted to you. "I know, but I'd like to know for sure. For my peace of mind."
You nodded. "Look, I'll go apologise to Guy right now-"
"No. There's no need. I'll talk to him myself. You've done enough. Please go to your room and wait for me." Baldwin gave you a small smile and watched you leave.
Moments later, he had a guard fetch the head physician in, who confirmed your story.
"Its true, your Majesty. Y/n risked her life to be with you for the past 2 weeks. She didn't leave the room and would apply medication on you herself, changed your clothes, wiped your sweat and even fed you some soup herself. She seemed very determined- almost as if she knew you'd recover. I'm ashamed to admit that I... I did not think you would." The physician even confirmed all the shit Guy had been doing, but Baldwin didn't need anyone's testimony to know that Guy was planning his downfall- and celebrating it. He wasn't surprised by that.
He was surprised by 2 things:
1. You hadn't contracted leprosy.
2. He was recovering from his disease.
"Its true. As you'd asked, I had done a check up on Y/n and I did not find any signs of leprosy... or any disease. She's as fit as can be!" The physician said in awe.
Baldwin smiled at that, looking at the mirror again. His own skin had begun healing. Many of his sores had already disappeared, and his complexion was returning to normal. And physical appearance was one thing, but Baldwin could even feel himself healthy on the inside. That constant ache in his bones was gone, the fatigue was gone, the suffering was gone.
But how? How could it just go away like that?
It's been 2 days since he woke up, and his health only seems to be improving at an exponential rate. And he's still trying to figure out how he got well out of nowhere. Closing his eyes, he tried to recall the events of that night.
All he remembers is falling down, fever enveloping his body so quickly, he felt like he was burning up, and then you were there and you helped him drink-
Baldwin eyes snapped open. It made sense.
He called in the guard and had him fetch his senior council members in his court room.
"I have 2 surprises for you." Baldwin said as he sat on his throne, looking over the members (Sibylla and Guy were also present), all staring and perhaps gawking at how well he looked now. "My disease is cured. I no longer suffer from leprosy." The court immeadiately fell into whispers and mutterings before going silent when he raised a hand. "I know it sounds impossible, but as you can all see, my health has not only improved but in fact I have become stronger. My body is no longer ridden with sores and boils. I no longer wear a mask, neither do I require assistance in walking. In fact, I am even able to use both of my hands to not only use a sword but also-" He pulled out a dagger and aimed it an apple he threw in the air, piercing right through it. "- I am no longer blind in one eye."
The court erupted in cheer, congratulating the king and praising God for saving Baldwin and the kingdom. From his throne, he could see Sibylla clapping in joy and wiping tears from her eyes as she smiled at him, while Guy looked at him in shock.
"Your majesty! What's the other surprise?" One of the members asked.
Baldwin smiled as he stood up.
"I have found a wife. She's the one who healed me."
He looked at the court that had once again erupted into cheer.
"Jerusalem has a new Queen."
-
"What do you mean I can't leave?" You asked the guard who was stationed outside your door.
"Ma'am, as I said before, the king has asked you to wait for him and ordered us to not let you leave until he comes." He said before closing the door again.
You scoffed. Can't leave? Why the hell not?
It's probably because I insulted Guy. He wants to punish me because of that. Will he throw me in the dungeons? Or will he just have my head chopped off?
You pulled out your time machine, the small box in your hands.
Well, I'm not sticking around to find out. Time to leave-
Just then, you heard the door open, making you hide the machine again. Is he finally here?
"Princess Sibylla." You bowed.
She chuckled, grabbing your shoulders. "Now, now. There's no need for that. In fact, I have to be the one bowing to you now." She said before kissing your cheeks. She's always been very humble and kind, and over the past few months, you've developed a good friendship with her.
You gave her a quizzical look. "What do you mean?" She laughed again. "Oh come on. You don't have to hide it anymore. Tell me, how did you persuade Baldwin to marry?"
"The king is getting married? To who?"
Sibylla raised a brow at you. "To-"
"Sibylla." A voice cut her off.
Baldwin was standing at your door. You bowed quickly, he looked at you before shaking his head at his sister.
"Will you leave? I have to talk to Y/n."
Sibylla nodded as she walked towards the door, but not before giving him a hug and congratulating him.
You two were alone now.
Baldwin had his hands clasped behind him as he walked closer to you.
"How are you feeling?" You asked him, eyes shifting to his hands. Is he holding a knife? To punish you for insulting Guy?
"I'm well, all thanks to you." He replied.
"Huh?" You looked at him confused, but your mind was still occupied with his hands. What is he hiding?
I need to delay this and find an escape route to use my time machine. You thought.
"Um- I uh- I heard you're getting married." You gulped, eyes still fixed on his hands, trying to anticipate any sudden movements.
"I am."
"Oh um, congratulations."
"Thank you." Baldwin said, tilting his head slightly at your wide eyes fixed on his hidden hands.
Cute.
"Y/n." He called out to you.
"Look, if you- if you're still mad at me about what I said to Guy, I apologise. But- but just so you know, I- I DONT THINKS ITS GOOD OMEN TO MURDER ME BEFORE YOU GET MARRIED!"
"Y/n."
"I WILL HAUNT YOU-! IM SORRY BUT I WILL AND I WILL HAUNT YOUR WIFE AND YOUR KIDS-"
"Y/n!" You looked at him as he stared at you with amusement. "You're being ridiculous."
"Huh?"
With one hand, he cupped your cheek as he brought himself closer.
"Why would I kill my soon-to-be wife?"
What? Wait-
"What?!" You shrieked backing away. "What kind of joke is that?!"
Baldwin looked insulted. "I wouldn't joke about this. You're very important to me."
"No- I- what?!"
He sighed as he sat on your bed. "Well, it makes sense, doesn't it? You saved me from an incurable disease, clearly you're the Chosen One, sent to me by God, and now I'll marry you."
You looked at him perplexed. "What are you talking about?! Saved you? All I did was help you drink water, apply your medication and-" you paused.
Helped him drink water... from my chalice... the one with... the medicinal vial.
"No." You covered your mouth in shock. What have I done?! This would change history completely! Shit. Shit. shit shit shit-
"Yes. You dont have to be so worried. The council is actually quiet happy that Im marrying someone, and they agree that there is no better match than the woman who saved my life-"
"I did not save your life!"
"Of course, you did. You gave your chalice-" "How is that even possible?! It only had water!" "Water that touched your lips first. Of course, it mustve been your essence, your saliva that healed me-" "Ew, no. Do you even yourself?! This is all unbelievable!"
Baldwin furrowed his brows slightly. "Its... not. I mean, look at you. You spent weeks taking care of me, you touched me, and yet did not even show signs of any illness, let alone leprosy! Of course, youre the chosen one!"
"I am not the chosen one!" You yelled as you pulled at your hair frustratedly. How could you fuck up so bad? If Baldwin really is cured, then history will be changed- and it will have disastrous impacts on future-
Baldwin pulled your hands away from your hair, tutting at you. "Dont do that. Youre the Queen, you cant hurt yourself."
"I am not the Queen."
He nodded. "Yet. But you are a princess now." Baldwin said as he pulled out the box hed been hiding behind his back all this time. Before you could even react, he'd already pulled out the big gold ring with a sapphire that had tiny diamonds around it and he slipped the ring onto your finger. You gawked at the ring making him chuckle.
Baldwin bent down to kiss your forehead sweetly before tapping your cheek admonishingly.
"Now, no hurting yourself princess. I want my queen in perfect health." Your cheeks reddened at how close he was, making him laugh even more as he pecked your forehead again and turned to leave.
You couldn't even say anything, he'd left you speechless. He looked back once, a lazy smile on his face.
"I should leave you to rest now, before Sibylla returns and starts pestering you with wedding preparations. She told me that shed been looking forward to this day for a very long time."
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so this is part 1. thoughts????
PART 2 here!
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daisynik7 · 6 months
Note
“Earned it” by The Weeknd for Levi Ackerman- Smut + Fluff
thank you
Earned It
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Pairing: Levi Ackerman x f!reader
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~7.0k
cw: yakuza au, modern setting au, adult themes, gang-related violence, mentions of blood, explicit language, fluff, smut – fingering, cunnilingus, PIV sex (doggy style), cream pie, unprotected sex
Summary: Levi is the current leader of a Yakuza organization called the Ackerman Clan. Fearless, ruthless, cold-blooded. Your deadbeat father owes a debt to his Uncle Kenny after borrowing a sum of money to gamble on horse races many years ago, a debt that hasn’t been forgotten. He has since abandoned you and one day, the Ackerman Clan tracks you down, claiming that you are now the owner of this debt. Without the means to pay for it out of pocket, Levi employs you to be his personal housekeeper until you’ve earned the money to pay it off. 
Author’s Note: Wow okay my first Levi fic EVER and I totally got carried away! I had so much fun writing this one, so I hope the rest of you enjoy it! Thanks for the request for the y2k karaoke party! This gave me the perfect excuse to finally write for Levi. MDNI divider credit to @/cafekitsune. Thank you for reading! Tagging @crazychaoticizzy!
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It's an average Wednesday when you receive a call from your mother in the middle of your workday. She usually doesn’t call unless it’s important, so you answer, already nervous for what she’s about to tell you. “Mom? Are you okay?”
Her tone is somber. “Honey, please come home. Now.” You can hear other people speaking in the background, alarm bells immediately ringing in your head. It’s been you and your mother alone for the past decade now, abandoned by your father before your high school graduation. You have no idea who would be in your home at this time. Freaking out, you ask, “What’s going on? What’s happening?!”
Before she can respond, there’s shuffling, then a man you don’t recognize on the other line. “You should listen to your mother.” His voice is cold, terse, sinister. It sends a chill down your spine.
Immediately, you excuse yourself from work, briefly describing a family emergency to your boss. You hop on the closest train, jittering in your seat, sweating bullets, stomach tight with anxiety. All you need to know is that your mom is safe. As soon as you’re out of the station, you remove the heels off your feet to run home. When you arrive, you notice a black car with tinted windows parked in the driveway and the front door already swung open. Winded and out of breath, you double over with the impulse to vomit, already expecting the worse. You swallow down the urge, collecting yourself, and walk inside.
You’re met by three strangers: two men and a woman. She looks young, gaze cold on yours, studying you carefully. The taller of the men is significantly older, hunched over, lanky, with a cigarette between his crooked smile. The other is short, but his domineering presence seems to overwhelm the rest of them. The cold gaze, the stagnant frown, the tightness in his brows. There’s an aura to him that shows he’s not one to be messed with. Before you can even confirm, you know that this man is the one who spoke to you earlier on the phone. Their leader. 
Your mom is seated on the couch, cowering in fear when she calls out to you. “Honey!”
You step towards them, wanting to approach her, but you’re stopped by the woman, staring daggers at you, her hand concealed inside her jacket, ready to attack if necessary. It’s a warning: Don’t come any closer or else. “Mikasa, relax. She ain’t even armed,” the older man says. He points to her, winking at you. “Sorry about my niece; she’s got some anger issues. Runs in the family, actually.”
Without removing her gaze from you, she mutters, “Shut up, Kenny.”
He laughs, puffs of smoke escaping his mouth. He removes the cigarette, tapping the ashes onto the hardwood floor of your living room before stepping closer towards you. “I should be the one upset here.” His eyes scan your figure up and down, smirking. “Right, Levi?”
You shiver from his wicked expression, glancing at your mother who stares wide-eyed at you in a panic. “What’s the meaning of this?” you ask shakily. 
The shorter man, apparently named Levi, comes forward, glaring at you. “You owe the Ackerman Clan money. Two million yen with all the interest that’s been accruing for the past ten years.” 
“We never borrowed money from you!” you argue. 
“You didn’t. But your father did,” Kenny interjects. “The dumbass didn’t know how to gamble on the right horse. Lost each race and came crawling back to me for more and more money. I gave him two years to pay me back without interest, but I suppose he ran off on you and your poor mother before he could pay it. Now, it’s way past due. I need my money back.”
That no-good, deadbeat father of yours. Of course he’s the one behind this. He’s always had a gambling addiction, ever since you were little. Borrowed money left and right from distant relatives, friends, coworkers, and apparently strangers. You thought he’d at least have the decency to pay them off on the occasions he actually scored big, but who are you kidding? All he spent his winnings on was more booze to drown out the fact that he never cared or provided for his family. You shake your head, tears welling in your eyes. “You should be asking him for the money, not us.”
Levi’s eyes narrow. “You don’t think we already tried looking for him? We can’t find him. He’s gone. Someone else has to be responsible for it now. And that means his wife and his kid. You.”
“We don’t have that kind of money just laying around,” you say, hoping that somehow, this Yakuza gang is nice enough to forgive the debt.
Kenny barks a laugh. “Well, you’re shit out of luck then, huh? Just like your lousy father.”
You wince at his harsh words, simultaneously agreeing with him. Levi sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “If you can’t pay off this debt within the next three months, we’ll be forced to take more severe action.”
“What do you mean?” you stutter. A variety of cruel punishments flash through your head, causing your knees to wobble in fear, though you manage to stay upright. 
“You don’t want to find out,” he threatens with a dark look.
You swallow loudly, unable to hide your dread any longer. Crying, you fall to your knees in a begging position, peering up at Levi with weepy eyes. “Please. I’ll do anything. Just don’t hurt my mom. Leave her out of this.”
Your mother sobs into her hands, your name muffled against her palms. Even through your blurred vision, you notice Levi’s expression waver just the slightest. 
“Maybe she can work for you,” Mikasa suggests. Her tone has changed to one of sympathy, unexpectedly considering her intimidating demeanor moments ago. 
Levi scoffs. “And what would she do for me? I doubt she can fight.”
There’s a pause as you watch them contemplate your fate. Kenny is the first one to offer an answer. “Housekeeper. She can be your housekeeper!”
Levi grimaces at the suggestion. “Excuse me?”
Kenny walks towards him, ruffling his nephew’s hair, much to his dismay. Levi swats him away, scowling as his uncle explains, “You spend so much goddamn time cleaning your own house, it’s about time you hire someone to do it for you. You’re the leader of the Ackerman Clan now. Time is money. You can’t be wasting it dusting when you can just make someone else do it for you.” He squats, legs spread wide, meeting you face-to-face. “Can you clean?”
You wipe away the tears streaming down your face, nodding.
“Can you cook?”
You nod again, more confidently this time. 
He slaps his knee. “Well, there you go! Looks like we found the solution. You’re hired. Levi will pay you at the end of each day. Your wages after three months should be enough to cover the debt you owe me. If you work overtime, you’ll earn extra cash. Sound good?” He sticks his hand out, waiting for you to shake on it. 
Three months of housekeeping and cooking for the leader of a Yakuza gang, who already looks like he despises you? It’s either that or whatever punishment he originally has in mind, which sounds much more painful and ominous. 
Before you agree, you ask, “What about my regular job?”
He strokes his chin, thinking. “Damn, forgot about that. Well, Little Levi here can compensate you for that as well. You’ll have to quit it in the meantime, but this gig is much better, don’t cha think?”
Levi raises his voice, angry now. “Don’t I get a say in this?! Who said I have the money to pay her?!”
Kenny waves him off, smirking. “You don’t drink, you don’t gamble, and you don’t fuck. So what else are you doing with all that money?”
At this, Levi gapes at his uncle, blushing. “I’m the fucking captain here, aren’t I? I won’t allow this.”
Kenny rolls his eyes, standing up to stretch his back. “Fine. Got a better idea? We don’t have all fucking day to argue about this, you know.”
After a few more disgruntled huffs from Levi without any other real suggestions, you are officially hired as Levi Ackerman’s housekeeper. 
~~~
Levi doesn’t need a fucking housekeeper. He’s the cleanest goddamn person in this entire godforsaken planet. Sure, he spends at least two hours at the start of his morning doing household chores to ensure that everything in his home is spick and span. But what’s so wrong about that? It’s the only solace he finds in this cruel world. The only aspect of his life that he can control. 
So, when his new hire arrives to his house seven o’clock sharp the very next day, Levi’s already in a bad mood. And when she smiles brightly at him, greeting him, “Good morning!” in an all-too-cheery voice that drips with enthusiasm and spirit despite the shitty situation she’s in, he can’t help but become even more irritated. She can’t possibly be excited about this. It’s all a façade, an act. Fake. He’s seen it before, from so-called friends, family members, strangers on the street. People only connect with him if there’s something to gain from it. And in this case, the money to pay her father’s debt is her end-goal, and nothing else. He reminds himself that she’s not here for him. No one ever is.
He doesn’t respond to her, turning on his heel to lead her inside. Without saying so, she removes her shoes, tucking them into an empty slot on the shoe rack, following him. Unfortunately, Kenny’s been here since half an hour ago, taking his usual breakfast: a cup of black coffee and a frozen waffle, toasted until lukewarm. And of course, there’s already crumbs on the table, but Levi ignores it, knowing that she’s responsible for this mess now, not him. 
“Morning,” Kenny drawls, raising his mug to her. She waves, still nervous around them, naturally, but her smile stays on. 
Levi hands her a sheet of paper, typed out with proper instructions. “Everything you need to know is on here. Unless you’re illiterate and can’t read, I won’t need to explain anything to you, right?”
She scans the document quickly, shaking her head at the end. “Seems simple enough.” 
“My nephew here likes things spotless,” Kenny adds, spit flying out of his mouth as he chews the rest of his breakfast. “Total clean freak and perfectionist. He’ll be on your ass about a simple speck of dust.”
“It’s not clean if there’s still dust,” he emphasizes. 
Her attention goes to the fridge. “What about meals? What do you like to eat?”
“I’m not picky. I usually don’t eat breakfast and lunch is brought to me at the office. So dinner is the only meal you have to cook. Like I said, I’m not picky. But it better not be instant ramen or something. I’m not paying you to feed me that processed shit.” Truthfully, he already eats that junk for lunch, often opting for fast food because it’s quick and easy while he’s out on a job. But what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. He shoots a glare at his uncle when he notices him snickering to himself, clearly aware of his less-than-ideal diet. 
After a brief tour of the house, not including his bedroom, which will remain off limits, him and Kenny leave to start the day. Levi is reluctant at first, unsure if she can live up to his high standards of tidiness, but even he can admit that it’s more productive when he arrives to their headquarters on time. 
The day goes by smoothly; the extra two hours that Levi gains by entrusting another person to his usual morning ritual proves to be beneficial for both him and his gang. They are able to add an extra stop to their daily rounds, collecting owed money from sleezy businesses and seedy underground organizations. They only resort to violence once, with Levi squeezing a man’s head between his shoe and the pavement until he coughs up the dough. In his eyes, today was a good day. 
Kenny drops him off back home around eight when it’s already dark out. The lights are on, glowing through the shaded windows. He digs into his pocket for the keys, retrieving them to unlock the door, his nostrils immediately hit with a sensational aroma wafting from the kitchen. Sliding out of his shoes, he steps further inside, following the scent. 
She’s leaning over the stove, steam puffing from whatever pan she’s cooking in. He drops his keys on the counter, clearing his throat to make his presence known. 
“Hello, Mr. Ackerman,” she says, turning to face him. “Perfect timing. Dinner is just about ready. I’ll serve it to you now.”
He slides a chair out from the dining table, taking a seat, watching as she moves around the kitchen. She scoops white rice into a bowl, then the food onto a plate, setting it front of him. It looks delicious; glazed meat scattered with a variety of fresh vegetables. “It’s chicken stir fry,” she explains. “It isn’t gourmet or anything, but it’s hearty and filling. I hope you like it.”
He remains silent, holding a piece of broccoli at the end of his chopstick, blowing on it before putting it in his mouth. The sauce is savory, pairing well with the typically bland vegetable. He digs into the chicken, enjoying how juicy and flavorful it is. It’s nothing he hasn’t had before, but still; it’s tasty. 
She stands beside him, watching him eat with a small grin on her face. “What would you like to drink?”
He swallows, replying, “I like tea. Hot tea. Decaf.”
“On it,” she says, heading back into the kitchen, filling a kettle with water to heat on the stove. Within ten minutes, she returns with a cup in one hand, the kettle in the other, pouring him freshly brewed tea. 
It’s quiet, Levi eating peacefully while she continues to observe him. He’s not quite sure what to say; do they make small talk? Does he compliment her cooking? How do people engage with others during a time like this?
Her stomach growls loudly, which he immediately notices. He raises a brow at her, pointing his chopsticks towards the kitchen. “You should eat too. If you’re hungry.”
“Is that alright?” 
He nods, looking down at his plate. “It’s better than watching me eat while you’re starving, right?”
She laughs, going back into the kitchen once again. “Yes, of course.” She comes back, sitting across from him to start eating. Not knowing what else to discuss over dinner, Levi asks her about the chores she should have accomplished today, to which she reports back in detail. It sounds as if she went through eat item on the list, though the true test will be when he inspects it himself. Their conversation flows well; he usually hates conversing with people when it isn’t necessary. He can’t remember the last time he shared a homecooked meal with someone else. He’s always at home after work, alone. Mikasa is too busy with her own family, and Levi can hardly stand his uncle’s presence to begin with, so he always preferred being alone. 
This, however, this he doesn’t mind. Surprisingly. 
Before he gets too comfortable with the idea, he reminds himself once more that this is simply the deal they agreed to. There’s no room for sentimentality. She’s here because she was forced into this role, not because she wants to be here. This is business. This is temporary.
And with that in mind, Levi strengthens the integrity of the walls he barricades around him, determined not to let anyone but himself in.
~~~
Your first month of employment go by as smoothly as you hope it would be, given your circumstances. Every day, you arrive at Levi’s house seven in the morning on the dot, greeting him with a smile. You figured it wouldn’t do you any good to show your fear of the Yakuza in front of the leader himself. And, in all honestly, you weren’t actually that scared of him. While he’s cold and blunt most of the time, he hasn’t done anything to frighten you yet, aside from your initial meeting. It helps that you only see him for a few minutes in the morning when he lets you in, and at most an hour at the end of the day, when you share dinner together. Before you leave, he hands you an envelope with your day’s wages, and that’s that. Based on the lack of criticism, you assume that you’re doing a good enough job.
On the second month, you begin to make lunches for him in addition to your usual routine. Uncle Kenny had mentioned several times in secret that Levi eats fast food because of the convenience. Sometimes, he skips a meal all together when they’re especially busy. 
When you arrive to his home, you greet him with your usual smile, while he gives you a curt nod, avoiding your gaze. He shouts behind him, “Kenny, let’s go!”
Before he walks out the door, you stop him, saying, “Oh, Mr. Ackerman! Before you leave, I prepared lunch for you.”
He whips around to face you, eyes narrowed as if you just insulted him. “What?”
Nervous now, you stammer, “I made you lunch. I heard that sometimes you skip meals, so I thought – ”
He steps towards you, glaring, not letting you finish. “This isn’t part of the list. I don’t need it. I don’t want it.” He turns on his heel, leaving you stunned as he heads for the car, slamming the door shut. 
You scurry into the kitchen, face hot, reeling over his unpleasant reaction to your simple gesture. Kenny leans back in his chair, feet up on the table, chugging the rest of his coffee. “Morning.”
“Hi Kenny.” You wash your hands at the sink, processing what just happened, growing increasingly upset. 
Kenny gets up, sliding his used mug beside you. “Thanks, darling.” Not wanting to waste your efforts, you call out to him, opening the fridge to retrieve the bento you prepared, handing it to him. 
“What’s this?” he asks, smirking.
“I made it for Mr. Ackerman, but he doesn’t want it. I don’t want it to go to waste,” you explain.
He smiles, genuinely grateful, the expression you were mistakenly expecting from Levi. “Thank you. Take care.” 
When he’s gone, you take a minute in the kitchen to relax, reminding yourself to stick to the list and not do anything extra just because you think he’d appreciate it. You’ve leaned your lesson based on today: Mr. Ackerman doesn’t appreciate anything or anyone. And you won’t be an exception.
~~~
Levi sulks silently in the car with his arms crossed over his chest, staring out the window while Kenny drives them to HQ. He’s replaying the interaction from earlier, recalling the hurt look in her eyes as he spat those harsh words to her. He’s an idiot. All he could have said was no thank you. He shouldn’t have berated her for doing something nice for him. At the same time, he didn’t want to appear vulnerable, like he needed her to do it for him. He doesn’t need her pity. He doesn’t need anyone to take care of him.
He catches Kenny shooting glances at him, but doesn’t say anything, knowing better than to rile his nephew up when he’s in one of these moods. They make it to headquarters as normal, and Levi goes about the day, almost forgetting about the incident. Almost.  
Around noon, Kenny drives Levi and two of his henchmen across town to collect money from a client who’s been skipping out on payments recently. Levi doesn’t expect to resort to violence, so he stays inside the car while the two muscles go out and fulfill their orders. Kenny reclines, reaching his long arm towards the backseat, retrieving a small bento box. “Grub time.”
Levi scowls. “What are you doing?”
“Eating lunch, what do you think?” He uncovers it, licking his lips as his picks up a tamago sando from inside. It looks delicious, from the soft bread to the golden yellow filling. Levi’s stomach growls as he stares at his uncle bite into it. “Damn, that’s good!”
“Where did you get that?” he asks, already knowing the answer.
He shrugs, engulfing the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. “Your housekeeper. Said you didn’t want it, so she gave it to me instead. Shit, that’s good!”
Levi huffs through his teeth, annoyed, but also very hungry. He snatches it from his uncle’s lap, inspecting it himself. Kenny doesn’t protest, only chuckles, licking his fingers. It’s truly an enticing sight, much better than the typical burger and fries he’s used to. He picks it up delicately, relishing how pillowy the bread is between his fingers. It’s devoured quickly, and Levi regrets watching his uncle eat part it, hoping he had it all for himself. In the bottom layer of the bento box are baby carrots and sliced cucumbers, which Levi munches on until his crew comes back, knuckles a bit bloodied and a stack of cash in their hands. 
At night, Levi enters the door, a pang of guilt in his chest. He doesn’t plan to mention it; he’d rather forget and move on, pretend it never even happened. Tonight’s dinner is yakisoba, a meal she has since perfected since starting a month ago. She serves it to him, pouring hot tea into his mug, then takes her usual spot, her expression neutral. She reports on each task she completed today, starting with the kitchen, where she cleans up whatever disgusting mess Kenny leaves at the table. She scrubs the counters until they’re sparkling, mops the floors, reorganizes the refrigerator, unloads the dishwasher from the night before. Next is the living room, where she vacuums the carpets, dusts all the drawers, wipes each and every appliance with a specialized solution to prevent streaks. Then It’s laundry, and she never mentions the splatters of blood that are sometimes on his dress shirts depending on what kind of day it is. She uses the exact method he uses to wash them until they look good as new, as if he isn’t part of the gang life. 
She finishes her list, looking at Levi, waiting for his nod of approval, which he gives. She’s done a decent job so far; in fact, his home looks just as tidy as it did when he spent two hours each morning doing it himself. He stares down at his plate, eating the rest of his noodles in silence.
“Mr. Ackerman?”
His jaw clenches at the sound of his name, anticipating whatever she’s about to say. Without looking up, he mutters, “What?”
She clears his throat nervously. “Earlier today, about lunch. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep my boundaries. I hope you can forgive me.”
He senses her gaze on him, but he’s too embarrassed to meet it, slurping the rest of his food without responding. She doesn’t say anything else, leaving it at that. When he’s done, she gathers the dirty dishes and loads them into the dishwasher, starting the cycle. Levi goes into his room, stuffing her payment for today in an envelope, staring at his reflection in the mirror. Just say it. Don’t be an asshole. She doesn’t deserve it.
She waits for him at the doorway, coat and shoes on, ready to leave. He hands her the money, keeping his grip on it when she accepts it. “You don’t have to apologize. I ate it, and it was delicious. So…thank you.” He looks at her this time, wanting to convey to her that he truly means it. 
Her eyes widen, clearly surprised by his sudden change in demeanor. He’s surprised himself; he just couldn’t let her leave thinking she didn’t anything wrong. “I’m sorry,” he adds. “For the way I reacted. I’m not used to people doing things like that for me.” He knows she doesn’t need an explanation from him, but he tells her anyways. 
She smiles. “It’s okay. I’m happy to do it. I prepared another one for tomorrow.”
Nodding, he lets go, watching her slide the envelope into her bag. “Goodnight, Mr. Ackerman.”
He opens the door for her. “Levi. You can call me Levi. It makes me feel old when you call me that. We’re around the same age, right?”
She giggles, making his chest swell. “Right. Well then, goodnight Levi.”
He waits until she disappears into the distance, heading to the nearby train station. With the door shut, he leans against it, sighing heavily, his heart beating rapidly.
This is bad. 
~~~
On the third month of working as a housekeeper and cook for Levi Ackerman, something extraordinary happens. 
You’ve gotten more cordial with each other in the past few weeks, ever since you began making lunches for him on a regular basis. You know he isn’t picky when it comes to food, but you’ve noticed subtle differences when he thanks you for the meal, which he always does now. If it ends in a simple thanks, you know that it was ordinary. If he adds in a compliment, you know that he really likes it. So, you cook more of the foods that he particularly enjoys. 
You’re still getting used to calling him by his first name. It still sounds foreign out of your mouth, almost like a treasured word you’re only supposed to say on special occasions. You still mostly call him Mr. Ackerman, though he doesn’t seem to mind. 
Other than what you see of him in the mornings and nights, you have no idea what Levi gets up to the rest of his day. It’s an unwritten part of the deal; you keep your private life to yourselves. And, knowing he’s in the Yakuza, maybe it’s better you don’t know. 
Tonight, you finish cooking dinner before Levi comes home. You cover the pan, keeping the oyakodon you prepared warm until he arrives, all the plates set up on the counter, ready for him. You sit in your usual chair, checking the clock: 8:30 PM, thirty minutes past his usual time. By nine, you start to worry. And by ten, your finger hovers over his contact information on your phone, tempted to call him, to make sure he’s okay. You debate with yourself for several minutes if you should go through with it. You were given this number only to use for emergencies. Would this be considered one? Surely, he has an entire team of people who look after him, being the leader and all. Why would he need you, his lowly housekeeper, looking out for him?
Deep down, it’s because you care. You care about him. You want him to be happy. And it’s not because he pays you at the end of the day. It’s because you truly, genuinely believe he deserves it. Even in the short time that you’ve known him, it’s plain to see how miserable he is in this life of crime. Dead eyes, permanent frown on his face, tense muscles from having no moment throughout his day to relax. No one, not even a Yakuza leader himself, deserves to be under this much stress.  
You’re about ready to dial his number when you hear the distinct jingle of keys from the front door. Levi walks in, hunched over with his jacket tossed over his shoulder, big splotches of blood painted on his shirt. You can see it clearly even from the end of the hallway. He doesn’t greet you, doesn’t look at you, as he drags his feet into the living to plop himself onto the couch, sighing. 
“Mr. Ackerman?” you call out, trembling. You’ve never seen him like this before. Is he injured? Or is he the one who did the injuring? Does it matter to you what the answer is? All you know is that you’re concerned about him and you want to be by his side. 
~~~
Levi hears her but doesn’t respond. He sinks deeper into the couch, eyes shut, hoping she ignores him, not wanting her to see him in this sorry state. He listens to the sound of her footsteps approaching closer, then feels her sit beside him. With one eye open, he peeks at her, surprised to see her staring at him with genuine concern, a steaming mug of tea in her hands. “Mr. Ackerman,” she repeats.
“What do you want?” he asks tersely. He doesn’t mean for it to come out rudely. Or maybe he does to push her away. He doesn’t want her to witness this vulnerability, this weakness.  
“I brought you some tea,” she answers quietly.
Before he can spit out an argument about how the caffeine will prevent him from sleeping, she adds, “It’s decaf, of course.”
He’s speechless for a moment, unable to come up with a smart response. His heart beats against his chest and he’s not sure what’s happening to him. Is he going into cardiac arrest? Or is this something different? Something good? Too exhausted to maintain the same frigid persona he puts up for her, he relaxes, reaching for her hands to grab the handle of the mug. He grazes her fingers wrapped around the ceramic, lingering for a second longer, then brings it to his lips, blowing air across the surface before taking a sip. It’s hot down his throat, filling his tired body with warmth and comfort. 
He peeks at her once more, focusing on the gentle smile on her lips. “What are you so happy about?” he asks, taking another sip. 
She looks down at her lap, shy now that she’s been called out. “I’m just happy you’re back in one piece.”
He scoffs, displaying his bruised and stained knuckles. “You call this one piece?”
She stares at his hands with terror or fascination, maybe even both. Levi can’t tell. All he knows is that she isn’t flinching away from him like he’s some monster; she leans closer, inspecting it carefully. “Hold on,” she says, standing up to retreat back into the kitchen.
Levi rests his head against the couch, stomach grumbling with hunger. He hasn’t eaten since lunch, and beating the shit out of people takes a toll on him. But the job is done and now he’s home. And for the first time, he realizes how grateful he is not to be alone. 
Minutes later, she returns with a tray, carrying a steaming bowl of oyakodon and two warm towels beside it. She sets it next to him on the couch, kneeling on the floor in front of him, beside his knees. He gulps, suddenly aware at how compromising this position may seem. Though, he doesn’t mind it. He slowly reaches over to grab hold on the chopsticks, digging into the bowl of food to take a bite. It’s warm and soothing in his mouth, exactly what he needed. 
“May I?” She peers up at him, pointing to his other hand, holding the damp towel. 
He’s hesitant at first, aware that she’ll be touching him. This is definitely crossing a line, right? However, the thought of being pampered in this moment when he’s so fucking tired is too enticing to refuse. He stretches his arms out, offering his fist to her. She surrounds him in the soft fabric, rubbing gently between his knuckles, wiping away all the grime from tonight’s violence. His skin is on fire from her indirect touch and he can’t help but wonder what effect she could have on his body if she were actually touching him. 
Skin in pristine condition, despite the temporary bruises, she switches to the other hand once he’s finished with his meal. He watches her in silence, holding back a moan, embarrassed at how much he’s enjoying this. She finishes him off with the second towel, the clean one, giving both hands a little massage. “Is that better?”
He nods, muttering a tired, “Thank you.”
She smiles, gaze flickering to the stains on his shirt. “I can wash this for you tomorrow. Just leave it in the laundry room.”
He nods again, unsure what else to say. She gets up, carrying the empty bowl and soiled towels back into the kitchen to clean up. It’s almost eleven now when Levi flips his wrist to check the time on his watch. Trains stop running by midnight, so he shouldn’t keep her here any longer. “You should head home now. It’s late,” he says, loud enough for her to hear. He stands up, slightly limping towards his bedroom to give her the payment. He slides an extra couple of bills to compensate for working overtime. Noticing how horrid he looks with blood all over him, he strips out of his shirt, thankful none of it seeped directly onto his skin. Without thinking, he rushes towards the front door, where she waits for him in her coat and shoes. 
He hands her the money. “I’m giving you a small bonus today, just in case you’re wondering why there’s more in there.” 
She glances at his chiseled abs before looking down at her feet. Heat rushes into his cheeks, finally aware that he’s shirtless in front of his housekeeper. This is definitely crossing a line. 
“It’s okay, I don’t want the extra money,” she says.
“Take it. You’ve earned it,” he insists.
“I didn’t do it for that. I did it because I care about you. I want to - ” She gazes at him, swallowing hard, afraid to finish her thought. 
There’s a flutter in his stomach as he steps closer to her, eager to hear it. “What?”
“I want to take care of you, Mr. Ackerman.”
It happens so fast that as soon as he realizes it, his lips are already on hers, kissing her passionately. His immediate reaction is to stop because he’s sure this isn’t what she intended. But when she places her hands on his chest, clinging to his bare skin to deepen the kiss, he can’t resist. 
~~~
Clothes are discarded on the way to his bedroom. By the time you’re lying flat on his mattress, you’re both completely naked, him on top of you, caging you between his muscular arms. He kisses your figure, from your neck trailing down to your chest, his lips puckered at your nipple, sucking on it until it’s taut in his mouth. One hand travels along the curve of your hips, then the plush of your inner thigh, until he’s pressed to your throbbing clit. “Can I touch you here?” he asks, his voice low and trembling. 
“Yes,” you breathe out, completely enraptured by him.
He flicks your bud with his middle finger, tapping on it until it’s puffy against him. He glides down to your wet slit, collecting your arousal to smear onto your clit, rubbing it faster. Pleasure courses through you as you whine into his mouth, kissing him sloppily. Soon, he slips inside you, pumping two of his fingers in and out of your pussy. You squirm for him, so close to your climax.  
“You like my fingers inside this fucking cunt, huh?” he growls into your ear. He pulls out, stroking your clit with his wet digits. “How about here? You like them on your little clit too, right pretty girl?”
Your tongue lolls out of your mouth, eyes glazed over in a daze. “Yes, Mr. Ackerman. Fuck.”
“Levi,” he grunts, circling your bud. “I told you to call me Levi.” He slips back in, pummeling your pussy while his thumb taps on your swollen core. 
You grab the bedsheets beneath you, clenching it between your fists, bucking your hips towards him, approaching your orgasm. “Coming,” you manage to whimper, unraveling. He slows his pace, riding it out with you until you relax in his hold, spent and blissed out. 
There’s a wild look in his eyes, animalistic almost. He removes himself from you, bringing his wet fingers to your mouth, inching them past your lips. “Taste yourself for me.”
You obey, opening wide for him to swipe your own cum across your tongue. He sticks it further down your throat while you surround him, sucking your slick off. His erection is hard against you, begging for attention. You slide your hand between his thighs, palming at his stiff cock, twitching at your touch. 
“Fuck,” he swears under his breath. You start stroking him, his cock hot and pulsating in your fist. He bucks into your grasp, moaning as you rub your thumb over his glossy tip, making him shudder. “You’re driving me fucking crazy, fuck. Get on top of me. Please. Need to taste you.”
You obey, readjusting yourself to straddle his face, lowering yourself carefully until your pressed to his open mouth. “Just enjoy it, sweetheart. You’ve earned it,” he says before lapping you up greedily. You ride his face, dragging your pussy lips across his flattened tongue, moaning when he puckers around you, suckling on your swelling bud. He’s sloppy and noisy, exactly how you like it. You find yourself unraveling quickly above him, convinced you can come just like this, without him entering you at all. He senses this, grabbing firmly to your ass cheeks, guiding you to rock against him faster. “That’s it, princess. Come for me,” he muffles against your skin, slurping at your leaking cunt. No longer able to resist, you moan loudly, reaching your climax, gushing all over his face. He smacks your ass, licking off every drop of your arousal before removing himself from you. “I need to be inside you. Need to fuck this pretty pussy right fucking now.”
All control lost, you whine, “Fuck me, Levi. Fuck me, please.”
He positions himself behind you, dragging your bottom towards him, rubbing his erection between your ass cheeks. “Think you’ve earned this cock? Think you deserve it?”
You nod frantically. “Yes. I’ve been so good.”
He chuckles, guiding himself inside you, stretching you out slowly as he inches his way deeper. “You’re right. You’ve been very good. You are good. So fucking good to me.” He pounds into you, fucking your sweet spot, chasing that high you’re both so desperate to reach. After a few more thrusts, your pussy squeezes around him, coming once more. He follows with his own orgasm, shooting his load inside you, filling you up with his cum.
He pulls out, rolling beside you, breathing heavily. You turn to your side, facing him, your senses gradually returning. He glances at you and breaks into a smile, the first you’ve ever seen from him. “Don’t look at me like that.”
You grin, scooting closer to nuzzle your nose with his. “Like what?”
His eyes gaze into yours, flickering down your lips. “Like you want to kiss me.”
You inch closer. “Why is that so bad?”
“Because I won’t be able to stop,” he whispers, closing the gap, kissing you.
~~~
On her last day, Levi leaves her final payment on the top of his dresser. It’s next to a thicker envelope that she’s collected the entirety of her father’s debt in, ready to hand over to Kenny first thing in the morning. She could have paid it off sooner, a week sooner, to be exact. But she decides to finish the remainder of the month employed as Levi’s housekeeper. She doesn’t explain why, and he doesn’t ask. 
They snuggle together in his bed, ready to sleep after fucking each other stupid just minutes earlier. This is another added part of their routine. Sometimes, she leaves to check in on her mother back home. Other times, she stays the night, which Levi prefers, though he won’t admit it out loud. It’s the best sleep he’s gotten in years.
He can tell she’s on the verge of sleep by the way her eyes flutter closed and how her head falls into his chest, relaxed. His mind is racing with thoughts, so he’s wide awake, wondering what tomorrow will hold. Will she say goodbye to him forever? Is this really over? What will he do when she’s gone?
He realizes his true feelings for her almost immediately after they begin sleeping together. He’s never relinquished control to anyone else before. But for him, giving it to her was easy. Maybe because he knew he could trust her. Though, now with her employment coming to an end, he’s not so sure what to think.
“Levi?” Her soft voice surprises him. 
“Hey,” he whispers. “Go back to sleep.”
She tips her chin up, peering at him. “Not yet. I want to say something to you.” 
He stares at her, confused and anxious, listening. “I care about you, Levi. I don’t want this to stop just because whatever arrangement we had before is over.”
He swallows hard, trying to maintain a neutral expression as his heart races with joy. “So, what then? Do you want to keep being my housekeeper? I already feel weird paying you because of what we do.”
She giggles, shaking her head. “I don’t want to be your housekeeper. I want to be your girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?”
“Yes, Levi. Your girlfriend,” she reiterates, smiling. 
He lets out a small laugh. “That sounds so normal.”
She cups his face, squeezing his cheeks. “Well, maybe Mr. Ackerman deserves a little something normal for once.”
He chuckles, nuzzling into her touch. “So, how is this going to work, then? You being my girlfriend.”
“Well, I’ll get my old job back. And in the meantime, I can move in here so I can still do all the cooking and cleaning.”
“No,” he interjects. “Together. We’ll cook and clean together. Like a normal couple.”
She beams at him. “Alright. Together it is, then.”
He allows himself to smile completely now, pressing his forehead to hers. “Can it really be this simple?” 
“I think it can,” she replies. “It’s worth a shot, right?”
For most of his life, Levi has never had it easy. Thirty years later, he finally has a chance at something normal, something good. Does he deserve it? With her by his side, holding his hand so lovingly in hers, he actually believes it. “Yeah. You’re absolutely right.”
1K notes · View notes
euphoricfilter · 29 days
Note
HIIII GIRLY. I saw your drabble game anddd how about
"How could we ever just be friends" + yoongi djskskjs
just friends:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: yoongi x gn! reader
genre: fluff || mild hurt with a lot of comfort || non-idol au
summary: maybe you were never just friends
word count: 1.2k
tags/ warnings: feelings, fluff, the smallest hint of hurt, they’re actually just really in love and the m/c is slightly oblivious but yoon is a big old sweetheart
notes: OMG HEY!!!!! you didn’t ask for a specific au so i did indulge slightly and made it fluffy and soft, hope you like it :D
drabble masterlist || all my other works
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.
There had always been something utterly unique about Yoongi’s existence in your eyes. He had been the first, and only person whose life had meant anything to you.
You’d spent most of your life aimlessly wandering, taking each day as it came and only hoped it would get better the more you trudged through. Fingers letting go of the ropes of friendships you’d made and lost—people you didn’t pay any mind to now that they weren’t in your life.
You didn’t miss them. Never thought of them unless they were right in front of you, if they never made themselves known.
But Yoongi had been different.
It didn’t take his physical presence for you to wonder how he was doing. He didn’t need to message first for you to ask how his day was. Dreams filled with another reality, what the two of you would be doing the next time you met, how sweet your name sounded from his lips. Or that sweet smile he would give you every time you stumbled over your words, too caught up in his eyes your brain malfunctions and you forget how to speak.
Thoughts consumed by him, feelings wrapping around the idea of his existence, soul dancing around his in this weird push and pull, not quite just friends but not really anything more.
Special, precious, perfect, Yoongi.
In all your years alive you’d never had a crush until that first moment you met. Never once thought of another human being in any other way that wasn’t platonic. It felt as though part of your world had started to crumble to moment, you’d acknowledged how you truly felt about him, stuck in this endless dilemma. Because who were you meant to tell him about your feelings when he was your closest friend? What if he asked who it was? He knew you rarely went out, and you sure as hell would have told him if you’d gone on any dates. So, you’d been stewing in your own feelings for as long as you can remember, too scared to utter a word about what was really happening between the two of you.
Because, sure his touches lingered, warm skin pressed against one another until the heat has travelled to your cheeks and you refuse to look at him, too scared he’d see how flustered you were. And sure there was the nicknames, though that was something he’d started early on, and you had doubts he fell in love just as quickly as you did.
Sometimes it felt like he only smiled at you, and yet you could only assume it was because you were his best friend, a safety net for him as much as he was one for you.
But not once had he made it obvious he liked you any more than a friend. A fact you’d slowly decided you could live with.
Just like yourself, it wasn’t very often Yoongi went on dates, you don’t think he’s been on one in the time you’d been friends. Which makes this whole dilemma slightly easier to swallow, because at this moment in time you were probably the most important person in his life.
You got to live out your secret little fantasy, and he got a low maintenance friendship. The perfect exchange.
And truly you believed it would be like this forever, until that little dream in the forefront of your mind was shattered by someone else coming into his life, and the two of you slowly drifting apart.
That was until tonight.
It wasn’t often you drank, never indulged in the fine whiskeys Yoongi would bring over to your place, stashed away in the cupboard when he wanted a little something before bed. However, Yoongi had come over with a cocktail making kit, saying he’d done some research because he knew how much you liked sweeter drinks.
And maybe you’d had a few too many, eagerly asking him to make you different drinks from the little book he had, excited as you watched him mix everything together. Utterly amazed by how good everything he made tasted.
You can’t remember what you’d said, words tumbling out your mouth quicker than you could swallow them back down. The small, sane part of your brain slowly catching up to what was happening as you watch Yoongi’s face morph into something slightly more surprised.
“How could we ever just be friends?” he shakes his head, scooting closer to you on the couch.
“Because you don’t like m—”
He holds a finger up to your lips, quick to silence you.
“Don’t finish that”
A frown tugs at the corners of your lips, “but Yoongi—”
He takes hold of your hands, thumb running over delicate skin as he looks at your face.
“No” he shakes his head, “listen to me for a moment, yeah?”
He’s calm, voice tender and smooth.
You nod.
“You’re not forcing me into anything” he starts, “I thought I was being too pushy with you”
You swallow.
“Huh?” your eyes widen slightly, “But I could have sworn you didn’t like me more than a best friend”
The low rumble of a laugh vibrates from his chest, “Best friends don’t look at each other the way I look at you. They don’t hold your hand on days out, or wish they could kiss you when you make that sweet little face when you first wake up in the morning”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” you murmur, “I really thought—”
“And why didn’t you tell me, hmm?” he smiles, “feelings are weird.”
You nod, outburst having helped you sober up slightly.
“What now?” your legs bounce a little, so far out of your comfort zone.
“Whatever you want” he reassures.
“I’m scared” it spills past your lips before you can think about it.
He tilts his head slightly in question, “About what? Commitment?”  
You shake your head, frantic “I just—I don’t know what to do I’ve never dated a person before”
He gives you a gentle smile, “Just be you. Just like you are now, that’s all I want”
“But what if I want a kiss?” you inch a little closer to him.
“Then I’ll give you a kiss”
“What if I wanted a kiss when we go out to dinner with your friends?”
He laughs, “Doesn’t matter when or where, I’ll always be willing to give you a kiss if that’s what you please”
You chew on your bottom lip.
“I’ve never actually kissed anyone before” you say, shoulders losing their tension, because now this felt normal. Like how it always was with Yoongi, where you didn’t need to have secrets or be scared about what he thought. Because for all the time you’d known him, he had always been by your side, and you hope it will stay like that for the rest of time.
“Then I’ll teach you” he hums, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, “Try not to worry your pretty little head too much, I know what you’re like”
“But—” you worry.
“Nope” he laughs, “We’ll work through this together like we do everything else, I’m always here for you, you know that right?”
Your eyes flicker between his for a moment, words settling into your soul as you nod.
“And I’ll always be here for you too, just so you know” the corners of your lips curl up into a smile.
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edenesth · 1 month
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TWTHH Spinoff: Take Me Away [1]
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Pairing: private investigator!Wooyoung x courtesan!reader
AU: historical au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 5k
Trigger Warnings: forced prostitution
Summary: While working on a new case in town, Wooyoung was captivated when he stumbled upon a beauty unlike any other. Just as he began to believe that he might have found a Lady Park of his own, word got out that she was merely the newest courtesan at the town's brothel. Disheartened by this revelation, he nearly abandons his pursuit of her until he hears whispers suggesting that she may not have been there of her own will.
A/N: As stated in the title, this is a spinoff. If you have yet to check out the main story, it's probably better to read that before starting this.
Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist | Part 2
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"If you're just going to hide in the corner and not even attempt to attract potential clients, then make yourself useful and collect my new hair accessories from this shop," commanded Iseul, one of the more senior courtesans, as she handed you an invoice listing her orders for specific designs.
Rather than protesting or attempting to evade the task as she had anticipated, you enthusiastically agreed, "Of course, unnie!" before taking the document from her and dashing out of the brothel.
"Thank heavens. Anything to escape that dreadful place," you whispered to yourself, clutching the parchment close to your chest. You were relieved to be away from the hellhole that was supposed to be your new home, even if only for a bit.
Instead of keeping an eye out for the shop whose name and address were stated on the invoice, all you could concentrate on was the sight of ordinary people living their lives freely. You remembered once dreading the idea of having to marry out of obligation once you reached a certain age, but now you would gladly choose that life over this one. At least then, you would only belong to one man instead of any man willing to pay for your company or... services now.
Had you known a week ago how drastically your life would change, you would have run away from home much sooner. You should have done it earlier, if only it weren't for your tender, foolish heart that still felt sorry for your deadbeat father. He had done nothing but drink and gamble away all the money you earned from washing dishes at a nearby food stall. And all of that just for him to sell you off to a brothel when he realised he had no money left to pay off his debts.
A week before today, he stumbled home reeking of alcohol and vomit after being gone all night. He moved to drag you to your feet while you were tidying up the shabby little home you had grown up in, his tight grasp tearing a hole in the thin, worn hanbok clinging to your frail frame. You struggled against his hold, crying out, "What in god's name are you doing, father?! Let me go!"
Confused about his intentions, as he typically treated you as if you were invisible and only approached you when he needed money, you received no response. He dragged you toward the entrance and threw you out, causing you to land roughly on the ground.
As you gazed at the expensive fabric before you, you looked up to see a well-dressed woman with heavy makeup smirking down at you, "You'll do just fine. Thank you, Mr. Han. We accept your payment. I hope you're comfortable with never seeing her again, unless you decide to pay the Mansion of Midnight a visit, of course."
Your heart stopped in recognition of the name. The Mansion of Midnight—the notorious brothel that had haunted your nightmares since you were old enough to understand its existence.
You couldn't believe it.
Refused to believe it.
How could your father do this to you? How could he sell his own daughter to such a place just to pay off his debts?
Anger and disbelief surged within you as you struggled to process the enormity of his betrayal. Tears welled up in your eyes as you fought against the overwhelming sense abandonment. Clutching the torn fabric of your hanbok, you felt a profound sense of loss and despair. This wasn't the life you had imagined for yourself, and yet here you were, thrust into a nightmare from which there seemed to be no escape.
Turning to look at him, you knew all hope was gone when you found him waving his hand dismissively in response to the woman you now recognised as the brothel madam, "Whatever, so long as this means my debts are cleared. Just take her and go."
His callous words pierced through you like a knife, confirming what you had feared deep down. There would be no rescue, no redemption in his eyes. He was willing to sacrifice you without a second thought, all for the sake of his own selfish reasons.
Disgust and rage bubbled up inside you as you stared at him, unable to comprehend how a father could abandon his own flesh and blood in such a manner. The man you once hoped would someday change for the better was now nothing more than a heartless stranger.
I guess I'm the fool for staying.
With a heavy heart, you turned away from him, silently vowing to never forgive him for his betrayal. In that moment, you knew you were alone in this world, left to fend for yourself in a cruel and unforgiving reality. But despite the overwhelming despair that threatened to consume you, you refused to give up hope. You would find a way to survive, to reclaim your dignity and freedom.
Now, trapped in this place, you cursed yourself for even pitying him when you should have abandoned him, just like your mother did when you were merely a child. She left him for someone who could offer her a better life, one with no room for you. She left you with this sorry excuse of a man. Sometimes, you wonder why they bothered bringing you into this world in the first place, just for you to endure a life filled with so much unhappiness.
Lost in thought and unaware of your surroundings, a startled gasp escaped your lips as your shoulder bumped into another man's, causing the parchment in your hand to slip to the ground along with a few items belonging to him, "Oh dear, I'm terribly sorry! I should have been more attentive. Here, let me help you gather your belongings," you apologised hastily, scrambling to collect his things while he did the same. Your movements paused when he accidentally grabbed your hand as you both reached for the same item.
"It's fine, my lady. Let me take care of it—"
As you lifted your heads to meet each other's gaze, your breath caught in your throat upon making eye contact. While you internally chuckled with a mixture of disbelief and sadness, realising how romantic this first encounter with this good-looking stranger could have potentially been if only you were an ordinary girl, he was too captivated by your beauty to utter a word.
So beautiful.
As Wooyoung took in the stunning lady before him, his heart skipped a beat. After encountering a woman as beautiful as Lady Park, he had almost resigned himself to the idea that he wouldn't find anyone more gorgeous. Yet, today, he found hope as he marvelled at you.
Judging from your initial reaction upon bumping into him, you were clearly not some rich little spoiled brat. There was a genuineness about you, a humility that spoke volumes to him.
Now, he just had to put his investigator skills to good use; find out who you were, which house you hailed from, and whether you were betrothed to another. If all went according to plan, he envisioned courting you, and perhaps, finally experiencing what it was like to have the kind of connection General Park and his wife shared—a love that transcended time and circumstance.
With determination in his heart, Wooyoung made a mental note to uncover the identity of this intriguing woman. You were a rare gem amidst the chaos of this world, and he was determined to unravel the mystery surrounding you.
As his gaze lingered on you, self-consciousness crept in. What if he was seeing through your identity? What if he knew the kind of job you were meant to be doing? The thought made you uneasy. Was that why he couldn't take his eyes off you? Perhaps it was his first time seeing a courtesan up close?
He could be disgusted for all you knew.
Blinking rapidly, you pulled your hand away and hurriedly stood up. Without giving him another chance to speak, you bowed deeply and politely excused yourself. You could still feel his intense stare burning into your back as you ran off, eager to get away from him for fear of his potential reaction when he realised what you were.
Tears of frustration blurred your vision as you struggled to focus on finding the damn shop you were meant to visit. Your heart felt heavy with hopelessness, knowing that thanks to your father, your life would never be the same. It was ruined now, irreversibly altered by his selfish actions.
Even if you were to somehow make your escape from this nightmare, your reputation would forever be tainted by this part of your history. There was no way you'd be able to hide the truth from anyone—the truth that you were once a courtesan at the Mansion of Midnight. The thought filled you with despair. No one would ever be able to accept you, nobody decent ever would.
Each step felt like a burden as you trudged along the unfamiliar streets. The world seemed bleak and unforgiving, with no glimmer of hope on the horizon. You felt utterly alone, with nowhere to turn and no one to confide in.
Help. Somebody, please help me.
Watching the mysterious, beautiful stranger he had encountered run off in the opposite direction, the investigator felt his heart pound in his chest. He tried to commit the image of your angelic features to memory, already excited to learn more about you.
For once, after completing his last assignment at the general's estate, he felt a glimmer of hope. Seonghwa had dismissed not only him but also Yunho and Hongjoong as soon as his grand wedding ceremony in the palace ended, expressing his desire for some alone time with his beloved wife. It seemed like everyone was moving on with their lives; the last Wooyoung had heard, the physician had returned to his clinic, and the dressmaker had resumed operations at his shop, both happy to grant the couple their much-needed honeymoon.
Except for him.
He had missed the thrill of working for the great General Park. While he loved his job, no other cases could ever compare to the adrenaline rush of working for his role model. Besides, that wasn't the only perk; he also had the opportunity to see the beautiful Lady Park nearly every day. He had been feeling bored, merely going through the motions with his current case until now.
His passion for investigating was reignited.
Screw his current case; it wasn't that important anyway. He had been hired by some wealthy old noblewoman to investigate whether her husband was cheating on her. It was while he was tailing the sleazy old man that he found himself in this part of town. But it looked like his new employer's case would have to take a back seat for now. Perhaps he should thank the old couple; otherwise, he wouldn't have stumbled upon his new dream girl today.
Yes, his new dream girl, because until just moments ago, that position had been occupied by Seonghwa's wife. Luckily for him, the general never discovered his tiny crush on her; otherwise, leaving the estate unscathed might have proven difficult. Jongho and Hongjoong had graciously kept his secret, for which he felt eternal gratitude. For his sake, he sincerely hoped the two would carry this secret to their graves. After all, he now has a new goddess to worship.
Without wasting a moment, Wooyoung immediately approached the people around him who had witnessed his accidental collision with you. Although most shook their heads, claiming they didn't recognise you, he tried not to be discouraged. With his skills, he knew he could gather all the information he needed in no time.
That night, he returned home and sketched the enchanting features he still vividly remembered before going to bed. His mind buzzed with the possibilities of who you could be. The following day, he planned to inquire again, armed with the drawing he had created. As the famous investigator Jung Wooyoung, he believed there was nothing he couldn't find if he set his mind to it. And now, he was investing even his heart into it.
The next morning, he rose extra early, having barely slept as endless thoughts of the mysterious beauty consumed his dreams throughout the night. He hastily devoured the breakfast prepared by his servants, bid his parents goodbye, and rushed out of his family estate toward that part of town once again. Eager to learn more about you immediately, he clutched the drawing tightly in his hand, feeling a glimmer of hope.
As he questioned people with the help of his sketch, some claimed to have seen you around but didn't know enough about you to provide further details. Nonetheless, it was a promising start. Surely, as he ventured closer to where you first emerged the day before, he would come across people who knew you.
True enough, it didn't take long for him to find someone who recognised the sweet face from his drawing. The middle-aged man smirked as he glanced at the parchment in Wooyoung's hands, "She's quite the beauty, isn't she? That, right there, is the newest recruit at the Mansion of Midnight."
"The Mansion of Midnight...?"
"Yes, it's the most well-known brothel in town, young man. Don't tell me you haven't heard of it? I suppose your young age explains it. Most of the patrons are older men, but I expected you would at least have heard of it. If you're looking for a future wife, she might not be the one for you. Beautiful as she is, she's merely a courtesan. Go find yourself a proper lady, son."
Disappointment crashed over him like a wave, his heart plummeting at the revelation. A courtesan...? All his idealistic fantasies of courting you shattered in an instant. He should have realised it was too good to be true. How could he have thought he found his own Lady Park so easily? With a heavy heart, he stuffed the piece of paper back into his pocket and trudged away, head bowed in shame. What would his parents or friends think if they knew he had been foolish enough to pursue a worker from a brothel?
Determined to rid his mind of thoughts of you, he committed himself to refocusing on his current case. In the following days, he threw himself into his work, seeking distraction like a heartbroken man. He constantly reminded himself that it was irrational to feel such strong emotions for someone he barely knew. Deep down, he knew that his infatuation was only with an idealised version of you, and not the actual you. Yet, despite this awareness, he still struggled to let go.
With a sigh, he scolded himself for letting thoughts of you distract him again while tailing his employer's husband. Shaking his head, he forced himself to focus on the task at hand—to observe the old man's interactions and track his movements. His heart sank as he realised the intimidating building his target eagerly approached. Numerous women, adorned in heavy makeup and revealing hanboks, lingered near the entrance, attempting to attract potential clients. The words 'Mansion of Midnight' adorned a large sign in the centre of the establishment, with red curtains billowing out from open windows of various rooms on the upper floors.
Of course, it had to be here.
Suddenly, a dreadful thought struck him.
He shuddered at the possibility of you being the company his target had been seeking all along. The mere idea felt repulsive—a vision of that old man with his hands all over your delicate form. He turned to leave, no longer willing to entertain such sickening scenarios involving you. At least the case was closed. He had obtained the answers his employer sought; her husband had been frequenting the brothel. Whether or not that constituted cheating would be for her to decide. He was finished and wanted to put as much distance between himself and this place as possible.
As he tried to leave the area, his steps faltered when he overheard a conversation between a stall owner and their customer, "Have you heard about the new courtesan at the Mansion of Midnight? I heard the poor thing is there against her will, that's why she always looks so sad. Apparently, her father sold her to settle his debts—"
That was all he needed to hear before a pang of regret pierced his heart. Why hadn't he investigated more thoroughly? Why had he given up on you so easily? If that were true, you must have been terrified. The idea of your own father doing this to you made his blood boil. Suddenly, he found himself understanding General Park's fury towards the former Minister Jang all too well.
Useless son of a—
A sudden wave of protectiveness engulfed him as he felt the urgent need to rescue you. Acting on impulse, he swiftly turned around and sprinted back toward the brothel. It wasn't until he reached the establishment again that he realised he lacked a plan. What was his next move after discovering your actual situation?
Think, Jung Wooyoung, think!
Before he could even formulate a plan, one of the courtesans approached him, her demeanour dripping with seduction. She pressed her chest against his side, trailing a seductive finger across his chest. Her mouth watered at the thought of entertaining such a young and dashing man after dealing with disgusting old men for so long, "Hello there, handsome. Would you like to spend a little time with us? Have some fun? Here at the Mansion of Midnight, we provide only the best services," she purred, winking at him. He struggled to push her off without appearing too rude, feeling incredibly uncomfortable with her touchiness.
"I-I... yes, I'd like to spend some time with the newest courtesan here, please," he stuttered, managing to free himself from her grasp.
With a scoff, she crossed her arms over her chest in disbelief, "You mean Miss Han? Why? Just because she's new? She's been here for a week and is still a virgin. I assure you, experienced courtesans like myself would know better how to satisfy you."
As she attempted to promote herself further, an older woman who appeared to be in charge intervened, glaring at her, "Enough, Iseul. What did I say about respecting our client's wishes? It's not you he wants. Accept it and move along," she reprimanded. Turning to Wooyoung, the brothel madam grinned, "So, you'd like to request Miss Han, hm? I understand. She's around your age and is still pure. If I were you, she might be the only one I'd want too. Tell me, how long would you like to spend with her? An hour or two?"
"I want her to myself for the rest of the day."
"Miss Han, you fortunate little thing! Congratulations on securing your very first client. This dashing young man seems utterly smitten by you, to have reserved your company for the entire evening."
You tightly clenched your trembling fists to your chest, suppressing a terrified whimper as you listened to the brothel madam's devious teasing. You had prayed fervently that nobody would request your services, doing everything you could to remain inconspicuous over the past week, hoping they might see you as more suitable for hard labour; you'd much rather be the lowest servant than do any of this.
Yet, here you were, already with your first client, and not just any client—this man had gone as far as to secure your companionship for the entire day. Such occurrences were rare, even for the most sought-after courtesans in this establishment. You couldn't fathom who this person might be, how he had learned of you, and why he'd spend so much to buy your time.
"Wh-who is it? This customer..."
"Wouldn't you like to know? It's none other than the famous private investigator Jung Wooyoung, known for his significant role in aiding General Park's capture of former Minister Jang. I suppose even men with a strong sense of justice are still susceptible to desire," The sly woman drawled, winking at you, "Don't disappoint us, girl. A client of his calibre could become a valuable long-term patron. Treat him well."
In anticipation of this highly significant new client, they went to great lengths to prepare you. After informing you of the news, the brothel madam called upon a team of staff to bathe you and dress you in a seemingly brand-new hanbok. It was almost as revealing as the ones worn daily by Iseul and the other popular courtesans. Usually, newer girls like yourself were given hand-me-down hanboks that were less appealing, given your status. However, this didn't alleviate the pressure you were feeling; if anything, it intensified, knowing how valuable this client must be.
God, why? Why me, of all people?
You should have known that all men were alike. No matter how noble or upright they might seem, they were ultimately driven by temptation. At the end of the day, they all desired the same thing. You could only hope that he would at least go easy on you. Your heart raced in your chest as you sat on the bed in the room assigned to you and him for the night, waiting for him.
To steady your trembling hands, you balled them into fists, feeling your nails dig into the skin of your palm with such force that you were certain they would break soon. Just as you were about to sink deeper into your endless pool of misery, you froze at the sound of footsteps approaching the room. Internally cursing your father once more, you braced yourself for what lay ahead.
"This way, Mr. Jung. She's ready for you."
Hearing those words turned your stomach. Yes, this was your current reality. You were nothing more than a commodity—a comfort woman for hire. An object for men to exploit when they sought release, to use as they pleased, as long as they could pay for it.
As you accepted your fate, you closed your eyes and bowed your head, the wooden door creaking open slowly. There was no escape from this—his reservation for the entire evening could only mean one thing. He hadn't bought your time just for conversation and a meal. No, he was here for the reason most men visited a brothel. This was it; this was how you'd lose your innocence.
"Miss Han...?" The man's uncertain voice echoed through the room.
Lifting your gaze to meet the individual who would be claiming your innocence tonight, your eyes widened in recognition as soon as you laid eyes on him. He was the handsome stranger you had collided with the other day. With a gasp, you uttered, "It's you..."
"So, y-you're the famous private investigator? Wh-what are you doing here?" You asked, then shook your head and cleared your throat, "Wait, I'm sorry. That was a foolish question; everyone knows why men come here." Inside, you couldn't deny the disappointment. His initial impression had been shattered now that you knew he was your first client. He didn't seem like the type to visit such places, but you supposed you couldn't judge a book by its cover.
His eyes widened at your implication, and he quickly shook his head, waving his hands to deny it as he stepped closer to you. Seeing you visibly shrink back, he made sure to keep a respectful distance, "No, you don't understand. I'm not here for that, Miss Han."
Lowering his voice, he took a seat in the nearest chair and continued, "I'm here to help you. My name is Wooyoung, as you already know, and I'm an investigator. I heard you're here against your will because of your father. Is that right?"
He fought to keep his composure, trying not to let his gaze linger too long on your features. He could feel the blush creeping up his cheeks as he struggled not to let his eyes wander further down to the sheer hanbok, which left your bare shoulders exposed thanks to its see-through material. Typically, such hanboks were reserved for married women about to spend the night with their husbands. The realisation that he was alone in a room with his dream girl dressed like that was enough to leave him flustered.
But he knew he needed to focus on the task at hand. Now was not the time to be feeling shy or distracted. He had a more important mission: to get you the hell out of here. So, he pushed aside his feelings and did his best to remain composed for your sake.
Nodding slowly, you furrowed your brows with scepticism, "Help me? Why? You don't even know me. What's in it for you? I have no money, and the only thing I can offer is..." Your voice trailed off as you glanced down at your body. Your distrust was palpable as you considered whether you could trust him. Just because he was the investigator who helped General Park capture the former Minister of Military Affairs didn't mean he had any obligation to you.
Understanding your hesitation, Wooyoung sighed deeply. He sympathised with your reluctance to trust a stranger, especially considering the betrayal you had experienced from someone you should have been able to rely on. He didn't blame you for questioning his motives; it was a reasonable response given the circumstances.
He looked into your eyes with a sincerity that struck you deeply, "Listen, not all men are like that," he said earnestly, "I know it may seem difficult for you to believe that someone would be willing to help you without expecting anything in return, but I'm here to prove to you that we exist. I'll admit your beauty captivated me initially, and I genuinely intended to court you. But after learning the truth about your situation, what kind of person would I be to not help? I won't rest until I get you out of here."
His words struck a chord within you, and there was a sincerity in his tone that you had rarely heard, not even from the people you called your parents. Despite your initial scepticism, you decided to believe him, if only for this moment. After all, if someone truly wanted to rescue you from this dreadful place, who were you to object?
You suppressed the shyness that arose upon his admission of his intentions to court you. Memories of your first encounter with him flooded back, making you ponder how different things might have been if you were an ordinary girl. Nevertheless, you were grateful he hadn't given up on you despite discovering your identity. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to have a friend in him.
Moving to sit across from him at the dining table in the centre of the room, you nervously fidgeted with your fingers, "Alright, Mr. Jung. I'll choose to trust you. I appreciate your efforts to help me, but... how do you plan to do that? The Mansion of Midnight isn't a small establishment. They've been around for as long as I can remember, and none of the girls working here have been able to just walk out as they please. As far as I know, I'm part of their property now."
"Not if I can help it. The larger the establishment, the more skeletons they have in their closet. Especially in a place like a brothel, I doubt their operations are entirely above board," he explained, "I'll keep returning for the next week, and buy up all your time. That'll keep other patrons away. Meanwhile, I'll use that time to snoop around. Trust me, we're getting you out of here, no matter what." He reassured you with a warm smile gorgeous enough to melt your heart, but you didn't let it show.
I most certainly hope so, Mr. Jung.
You couldn't help but admire his unwavering determination, even though a part of you hesitated to allow yourself to feel hopeful. You dared not raise your hopes too high, afraid of the crushing disappointment that would follow if his plan were to fail. Yet, at this moment, you were grateful to have crossed paths with him, whether or not he'd be able to get you out of here.
« Preview of Part 2 »
"Sir, Investigator Jung is here to see you," Jongho announced at the entrance of his master's study, an anxious Wooyoung standing beside him. The general raised his brows in surprise, "At this hour? Let him in."
Without hesitation, the investigator rushed into the room, "My lord, I apologise for showing up unannounced so late at night! I know you said not to bother you and Lady Park for the time being, but there's something urgent that I need help with—"
"Woah, breathe, Wooyoung. Calm down and take a seat. Jongho, please bring us some tea," With a bow, the assistant moved to leave before halting when Seonghwa called out to him again, "Wait! On your way back, let the mistress know not to wait up for me. I have a feeling this won't be a short meeting."
"Of course, sir," the assistant replied.
Feeling guilty for getting in the way of what should have been the couple's honeymoon time, the younger man sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, "Gosh, I really am sorry to intrude on your alone time with your wife."
The general smiled reassuringly, shaking his head, "Please don't worry about it. It must be important for you to rush here so late. Besides, you've helped me plenty before. It's only right for me to return the favour now. Tell me, what do you need help with?"
"I know I previously declined the bonus incentives you offered, but... would it be alright for me to accept them now?"
Wooyoung hadn't fully considered the financial implications when he confidently promised to return to the Mansion of Midnight every day for the next week. It dawned on him how costly even one night there had been. He couldn't possibly ask his parents for money to be spent on a brothel. Despite it being for a noble cause, they'd have a heart attack. So, he had no choice but to seek financial assistance from Seonghwa.
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I was initially going to make this into a oneshot, but that would take me too long to post and I didn't want to make y'all wait any longer than you already have! So, voila! I'm breaking this into 2 parts. The next part will be the second and final part of this spinoff.
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3
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thetriumphantpanda · 5 months
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Eyes Wide Open | Joel Miller
The Checklist - Exhibitionism
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Chapter Summary | You want people to watch you, Joel knows exactly how to help you with that.
Chapter Warnings | Are y'all bored of the porn without plot warning yet? Joel takes you to a sex club, public sex, exhibitionism, Joel gets cocky that people like looking at you getting fucked, unprotected PiV sex, fingering, dirty talk, pet names, aftercare, no use of y/n, no outbreak AU. Disclaimer that I've never been to a sex club so I have no idea if this is accurate, but we move. Please be kind.
Word Count | 3.5K
Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader
Authors Note | Shoutout to @hellishjoel for helping me work through the ideas for this one, and shoutout to my dreams for showing me exactly how it should play out. We're on the downhill stretch of the checklist now but it you're still enjoying this then reblogs and comments are always appreciated, and if you'd like to support me further, you can donate to my Ko-Fi.
A reminder that whilst this is part of a wider series, this can be read as a standalone if you wish.
Beautiful divider by @saradika
I no longer have a taglist, to keep up to date with my work, please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs and turn on notifications.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi.
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It’s a Friday night, not particularly late by the time you shut your computer down and sit back in the chair with a sigh. The door to your office clicks shut behind you as you walk through to the bedroom, intent on changing out of your work clothes and into something comfy, ordering pizza and spending the rest of the weekend attached to Joel’s side, but it seems like he’s got other ideas.
He’s sat on the edge of the bed, changed from his work clothes, but still looking casual in his jeans and a flannel, but sitting next to him, laid out so delicately on the sheets, is his favourite lingerie set of yours. Skimpy, all black see-through lace that leaves nothing to the imagination, and your trench coat sat next to him, and then your trusty pair of black heels on the floor. He’s smirking, but there’s an air of something nervous about him tonight, which you can tell from the bouncing of his leg and the way he runs his hand over his face.
“Change into this,” He says quickly, tone clipped as he stands, “I’ll wait downstairs.”
And then he’s gone, his heavy footfall giving him away as he walks down the stairs, leaving you a little dumbfounded. Your hands are already reaching to divest yourself of your clothes though, letting them fall into a pile at the end of the bed as you slip on the black lace. You don’t even bother to check yourself out in the mirror, you don’t care what you look like. All you know is that this little ensemble drives Joel wild, and that’s plenty for you, as you slip the black heels on and tie the coat around your waist with a knot.
Downstairs, Joel is pacing, something he rarely does unless he’s nervous. The keys to his truck are in his hand. He doesn’t even speak to you when he wrenches open the front door and motions with his hand for you to go outside. He doesn’t speak to you on the drive into town either. It’s not until he’s pulled up along a random street, outside of a nondescript building that he opens his mouth, but only when you question him.
“You wanna tell me why we’re sat outside some random building?”
He unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to you with a little sigh, “This seemed like a good idea at the time, but I ain’t sure you’re gonna like it.”
“Try me, Miller.”
Another sigh, “Well, I’ve been thinkin’ about that list again, about you wantin’ people to watch you, watch us, and this was the only thing I could think of,” You raise an eyebrow at him, “It’s a sex club.”
You can feel the smirk growing across your mouth, “Dare I ask how you found a sex club in Austin?”
He grumbles something incoherent which only adds to your amusement of the whole situation, “We don’t have to go in, I know it’s a lot,” He adds, hand finding your thigh under the split in your coat, “Say the words and I’ll drive us back home, unwrap you and fuck you until you can’t walk, it’s up to you baby.”
You take a moment to think, because there is the low bubble of anxiety settling in your stomach. Sure, the idea of someone watching you, admiring you as you get fucked, has always appealed to you. There’s no reasoning behind it, you don’t really know why, it’s just something you’ve always wanted to try. But that doesn’t make the thought of this any easier - it’s a club full of people who probably do this sort of thing all the time, people who have specific things they like to watch, maybe even specific people and what if you aren’t one of them? But, that warm palm on your thigh makes you feel safe, and even if no-one else watches you, he always does.
“Okay, let’s do it.”
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You’re not sure what you were expecting from the inside of a sex club on the outskirts of downtown Austin, but it certainly wasn’t this. The inside is beautifully decorated, plush velvet seating, red drapes that section off certain parts of the club, a floor that isn’t sticky, but immaculately clean instead. You were expecting it to smell too, and it does, but not unpleasant in any way. There’s low music playing, and you can certainly hear some of the other people here already having fun, but it doesn’t embarrass you, only makes you more excited.
At the door, someone had explained how things work - there was no obligation to do anything, but if you did want to engage in anything sexual, you had to use one of alcoves that were curtained off. If you wanted people to watch, leave one of the curtains open, and if you wanted them to join in, all you had to do was invite them to do so, but otherwise, they had to watch, and none of them could get themselves off whilst they watched either - the woman explained there were areas to do that elsewhere.
Joel has a hand on your lower back, guiding you over to the bar - strictly no alcohol for obvious reasons - but the bartender makes you a very nice virgin sex on the beach, which is ironic. Joel sips on a 0% beer as you stand and wait to see who makes the first move. You sit and look around, letting the sounds of other women’s pleasure fill your ears, looking at the other couples who are doing much the same as you and Joel are, apart from the fact that you can’t see any of them secretly trying to rub their thighs together for a little relief.
There’s a moment, a little while later, when one of the sets of curtains is pulled back, and a woman, hand-in-hand with a man, walk out, attached at the hip, looking sweaty and sated. You take hold of Joel’s hand, leaving your half finished drink on the bar, and drag him behind the curtain before anyone else has a chance to take it.
“Keen, are we?” He chuckles, watching closely as you close both curtains behind you for now, turning to him.
“Kiss me.”
He walks over to you, lips pressing gently to yours as his hands take hold of the belt keeping your coat together, hands pulling at the knot to undo it, his palms pushing it from your shoulders to leave you standing in just your underwear.
“You want me to open the curtain?” He asks softly against your mouth.
You nod, trying to chase his mouth as he pulls away a little.
“Words, baby,” He says, “Use them.”
You snake your hand around his neck, pulling him back down to your mouth, “Open it,” You demand, “Let them see.”
Letting him go, you walk slowly over to the couch near the back of the room, sitting down on it, crossing one leg over the other as Joel pulls back one side of the curtain. He turns, walking back toward you as he takes off his shirt, unbuckles his belt and leaves both on the floor with your coat. He gently takes hold of your hand, pulling a little to get you to stand up.
Joel settles on the couch, right where you had been sitting before, widening his legs, tapping the material between them for you to sit, which you do, facing the open curtain as you sit between his thighs.
He splays one hand across the naked skin of your tummy, pulling you closer into him, the bulge in the front of his jeans resting against your lower back, the other cradling the side of your face opposite where his lips are currently tracing down your neck and over your shoulder. You close your eyes, let out a soft sigh of pleasure, as your head tips back against his shoulder.
When you open your eyes, there's a jolt of surprise when you see a few people already standing near the open curtain, already watching you. They’re almost casual with it, stood with their arms crossed or leaning against the wall as Joel trails his hand from your tummy to your thigh, widening his own as he pulls yours further apart.
“They’re looking, Joel.” You whisper softly.
“I know, baby,” He coos into your ear, “Shall we give them a show?”
“Yes please.”
It’s all the encouragement he needs, both of his hands coming around your body to cup your tits through the material of your bra, squeezing gently as his teeth start nipping at the skin of your neck.
“Think we should show them how perfect your tits are?” He whispers, fingers dragging up to the straps to slip them off your shoulders, before he pulls the cups down, settling them under your tits to show them off.
Almost like he knows he’s showing you off, parading you in front of people, he brings his palms to the sides of your breasts, pushes them together as your nipples peak stiff in the cool air of the room.
“I think they like you, honey,” Joel’s voice is in your ear again, “Look how many people want to watch you.”
And he’s right, there are a few more bodies that have joined the small crowd that are watching you, as Joel’s hands cup the weight of your tits, his fingers rolling your nipples, drawing a gasp from your mouth as Joel’s hips rock into your back, hard cock digging into your skin, obviously just as affected by by people watching as you are.
“Joel,” You whine, “I need to you touch me.”
“I am touchin’ you, baby,” He chuckles, “You want my hands somewhere else?”
“Please.”
“Given them your tits, now you wanna show them your pussy?”
“Joel, please.”
His hand moves slowly down the bare skin of your tummy and over the lace of your panties, fingers hovering where he knows you’ll be wet, even you can feel the damp material sticking to you. He hooks one of his fingers into the side of your panties, running it over your slick folds a few times as your hands settle on his denim-clad thighs, fingers digging into them as he gently pulls your panties to the side, exposing your core to the people in front of you.
You can hear hums of approval, some people suck in their breath and it makes you preen. Yes, you think, fucking gasp at me, I'm a goddess and look at what this man does to me. Joel’s palm cups your pussy for a moment, his lips still working softly across your neck and shoulder, the roughness of his beard and the way his teeth nip at you sure to leave marks for days.
Then, he drags his palm up, using two of his fingers to spread the folds of your pussy, really showing you off to everyone in front of you. For the first time, you really look at the crowd, there’s not many, many seven or eight people, all stood with their eyes trained on the most intimate part of you, watching as your cunt glistens and flutters around nothing.
“You know what they’re thinking?” Joel asks, his other palm pulling your thighs apart even more, one finger dipping into your slick cunt, dragging the wetness up so he can circle your clit, “They’re thinking this is the prettiest pussy they’ve ever seen.”
He’s got one hand pressed to your belly, dragging you back against him, the other working those tight, precise circles over your clit. Normally, in the privacy of your own home, he’d take his time, but here, any ounce of patience he has is gone. He wants them to see you, wants to know the beauty he gets all to himself, the pussy he gets to do with as he pleases, and most of all, he wants them to know how he makes you cum, almost like he’s proving himself to these strangers. Look at me, look at the man I am, look how well I know this woman’s body and how quickly I can get her off.
It’s all an intoxicating cocktail that has you hurtling towards the finish line in no time. Your head is tipped back against his shoulder again, back arched and hips rocking in time to the movements of his hand, but your eyes are trained on the people in front of you, flitting from face to face as they watch the way your legs start to shake, the way you can clearly see from the front of their trousers how much this turns them on.
“You gonna show them how pretty you are when you come, baby?” Joel asks, hand abandoning your stomach in preference for wrapping around your throat, he doesn’t squeeze, just holds you there, anchors you to his body as his finger circles one, twice, three times more and throws you over the edge.
Fingers still gripping at his thighs, you cry out, moaning his name as his finger slows a little against you but never stops, “Yeah, that’s it baby,” Joel encourages, “Let it all out for them.”
When you open your eyes, coming down from the high, body warm with pleasure, shaking as Joel’s fingers sink inside you, not to get you off again, but to make sure you’re ready for him, a few more people have joined the crowd now, clearly hearing your cries of pleasure and wanting to know exactly what the fuss was about. Well, you’ve joined just in time, you think, as Joel manipulates you onto your back, leaning back a little to undo his jeans, but not bothering to stand enough to completely take them off, just pushing them down enough to free his cock.
Whilst he fists himself, hand at the base of his cock, you tilt your head towards the people watching you. You’re not stupid enough to imagine they’re all here for you, there are three women dotted in the crowd, and whilst you can never be sure, much like you aren't sure about the men either, you’d like to think some of them are here for Joel, admiring the broadness of him, the thickness of his cock, wondering, imagining they get the opportunity to feel him doing exactly what he does next, which is to sink his cock slowly into your aching cunt.
You’ve spread your legs as wide as you can manage, palms on the underside of your thighs to hold yourself open to Joel as one of his hands props him up next to your head, the other pushing the leg closest to the crowd down, so your aren’t covering what they’re here to see the most.
He drags his cock out of you, almost fully, before he slams his hips back into yours. Your tits bounce with the force, a surprised yelp leaving your mouth, but God it feels good. You’re looking at each other, Joel’s intense brown eyes looking down at your face, your mouth dropped open in pleasure as he sets the pace, drawing gasps and whines from you each time he pushes his cock back into you.
Letting go of your leg once he’s sure you’re in a position where everyone can watch the way his cock is stretching your cunt, he takes hold of your face in his hand, fingers pressing into the soft skin of your cheeks which makes your lips purse a little. He drags your face away from looking at his own, one cheek laying against the material of the couch, looking at the crowd, you catch one man run a palm over the bulge in his jeans whilst he looks you dead in the eye, but it doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable, it makes you feel powerful.
You can feel Joel’s nose nuzzling at your other cheek, lips pressed to the sweaty skin, “Look at them, baby,” He demands, “All of them watching you get fucked, you like that?”
All you can manage with his hand on your face is a ‘Mmmhmm’.
“I know you like it,” He breathes, “Know how I can tell?” It’s rhetorical, of course it is, “You’re squeezin’ me so fucking tight, baby, and you’re drippin’, so turned on by all these people who wanna fuck you, huh?”
It’s another ‘mmmhmm’ that he gets in response, but your hips are moving up to meet his now, letting the tip of his cock brush so deep inside of you that you see stars.
“What do you think they want to see most?” He asks, breathless in your ear, “Do you think they want to see me fill you up?” But you shake your head in his hand, “No, you’re right baby,” He agrees, “I think they want to see me cover you, paint my cum all over you.”
You know he’s not going to last much longer. You know him, and you know his signs. The way he gets more vocal in your ear, groaning and panting, and the way his thrusts get heavier, sloppier. You know it, he knows it, and the gaggle of eyes on you mean you’re both hanging on for dear life, Joel trying to hold himself back, wanting just one more from you.
Snaking a hand between your body, you circle your own clit, slick and wet and sensitive from earlier as he finally lets go of your face, holds himself up on both him palms planted on either side of your head, hips slamming into yours, lewd smacking of skin and your combined breathless pants the only thing people can hear over the sounds of whatever other people are doing outside of here.
“That’s it baby,” He encourages lightly, “God, you’re fuckin’ perfect around me, make yourself come and then I’ll give you what you want.”
Like magic, you do, body arching up into his, legs hooking around his lower back as you come for him, moaning his name, looking at only him now as he sucks his bottom lip in between his teeth.
“Hold your legs open baby,” He asks, “Gonna give you what you want, okay?”
You’re boneless, palms pressing against your knees to keep you open as Joel slips his cock from your warmth, one hand furiously fisting at himself, the other keeping his body weight off you. You feel the first rope of warmth hit your stomach before he tosses his head back, calls your name out to the ceiling as he covers you in him. Pools of thick, white seed land across your skin as his hand milks every last drop from his cock, the two of you just watch each other for a moment, the only sounds you can hear are you own breath sucking into your lungs and the sounds of what other people are doing outside of your little oasis.
“You okay?” Joel asks softly, leaning forward to press his warm lips to your forehead.
“I’m good,” You smile, “Really good.”
“Yeah?” He asks, almost surprised as he sits back on his knees, tucking himself back into his jeans.
You run your fingernails over his lower belly, scratching gently as you look at him, “I really liked that.”
When you turn your head a little, the people who had been watching you are already gone, onto the next show, the curtain pulled together to give you both a little privacy. Joel stands, finds a box of tissues on the table next to the couch which he uses to clean you up.
“Did you like it?” You ask, as he readjusts the lace of your under, covering you up.
“Yeah, I did,” He smiles, face cupped in his hands to kiss you, “Liked that they could watch, see how perfect you are, but that you’re only mine.”
You snake your arms around his shoulders, kissing him again, “Can we do this again?” You ask, biting at your lip, almost shy to ask for it.
“Yeah baby,” He smiles, keeping you as close to him as he can as he reaches for his clothes, “You wanna come back here?”
You nod, letting Joel slip your coat back onto you, watching as he ties the knot tight, making sure no-one’s going to see you as you leave, as if some of them hadn’t just watch him rail you to within an inch of your life.
Joel presses a kiss to the tip of your nose as he takes your hand in his, “I’ll bring you back,” He promises, pulling the curtain out of the way so you can make your way on shaky legs out of the club, “But right now, I’m gonna take you home, and we’re going to get in the bath, okay?”
“Okay,” You nod, “Take me home, cowboy.”
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luveline · 6 months
Note
If you’re taking any requests could I request prince Steve and his soulmate wanting to have their first kiss before the wedding since they’re shy about so many people witnessing it
for you my love ♡ prince!steve au
You glance over the pages of your book to watch the Prince. He's stretching by the balcony, the summer air ruffling his hair, the sun kissing his skin. He's tan from weeks of being outside, and when he moves, it's almost like watching the sun itself. Too much. Your eyes burn after a few moments and you look down again. 
“Steve?” you ask, turning a page. 
He stops stretching his shoulders to smile at you. His button up rolled at the sleeves and tight on the arms, he's a poster boy. He's everything a Prince should be, and very soon he's going to be your husband. He's barely even your boyfriend. 
Your soulmark jitters through colours. It's an odd thing, gaussian and scratchy at once, wrapped around your wrist like poorly wound bandages made of light. His, whenever he's with you, glows a steady pinky-purple. You've no idea what it means. 
When you see him, yours is almost always white burning blue. But he smiles fondly and it melds to a softer pink, almost too pale to detect. “What?” 
“We're getting married in sixteen days.”
He crosses the room to sit beside you on the bed. Your sheets are white as the soulmark, crinkled under his weight. “There's still time to send you away.” You laugh a startled laugh and try to keep that lightness about you when he clasps your knee. “But I'd die alone, after that, and the kingdom would collapse, and I'd be miserable, so…” He smiles at you, a silky smoothness to his voice as he continues, “I'd rather you stayed.” 
“I want to stay. I want–” You bite the soft inside of your bottom lip. “I wanted to ask for a favour.” 
“Anything you want. Unless it's to help you with your tutoring. That's never going to happen. I'd make it worse–” 
“No, it's not that.” Bite the bullet. Ask the question, even if you're sitting in bed together, even if he's the most beautiful boy this side of the ocean. “I was wondering if you'd kiss me.” 
Steve stares at you, slack-jawed for a sliver of a second, but he realises himself and his teeth click as he closes his mouth. 
“I don't want the first time we kiss to be– to be in front of so many people. I don't even know what to do.” 
“You don't?” he asks. 
“No.” You rub your thumb against the pages of your book before sitting up to escape. “It was a stupid thing to ask you for, I'm sorry.” 
He takes your arm into his hand. “It's not stupid. I'll kiss you. I want to kiss you, I really want to. I've been worried about it, too. Kissing isn't one size fits all, you know? It's different for everyone.” 
“Right.” Your heart beats in your ears. “So you will?” 
“I will,” he says, quieter than either of you had been speaking before. He takes the book from your hand carefully and puts it aside, pulling at your arm with similar care as he shuffles close to you on the bed. 
You resist the urge to bury your face in your hands. You hadn't thought he'd kiss you straight away, but what difference does it make? You want him to kiss you now, you want—
“You sure?” he asks. 
You nod, not trusting your tongue to make words, the weight of it like lead in your mouth. Steve's hand climbs carefully from the bracelet at your wrist to your elbow, but eventually it slides between your arm and your side to the place just below your breasts. 
The other. He almost kills you, his other hand, brought so tentatively to your face. He doesn't cup your cheek but his palm turns upward, and his fingertips trail from the skin shy of your nose to just under your chin, and then he closes his eyes and you follow suit, too afraid to see anything after that, your skin alive with his touch. 
He kisses like a prince. 
Soft. Delicate. Steve clasps your shoulder very gently and guides your face to his, your lips pressing together, the thrum of a spark between you like a firecracker, a Catherine wheel, that spinning expense of energy with nowhere to go but your mouth. His lips part the slightest bit against yours as he kisses up into your lips. 
When he pulls away a handful of seconds later, your faces are awash with a lavender light. 
“Was that okay?” he asks. 
The light turns darker, a terrible heat flushing through you. You wish you had the bravery to ask for another kiss. “Yes,” you say, nearly whispering. “That was fine.” 
“We can do better than fine, yeah?”
You almost choke on air. "Yeah. Yes."
He's smiling as he leans back in.
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adventuringblind · 10 days
Text
AUS24 (3k words)
Oscar Piastri x Liam Lawson x Reader x Logan Sargeant
Genre: Angst, fluff, spice, A/B/O AU
Summary: James Vowels takes things a step further when covering his ass in the media. Logan and his mate pay the price but Oscar and Liam are there to help.
Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, heat/rut cycles, James Vowels is the bad guy in this one, Alex being a king, Thigh riding, other alluded to sexual things but not specific so IDK what else to put
Notes: This one was a lot and I hope I filled the request okay! I struggled... Therefore y'all should feed my praise kink in order to motivate me. Jk...... unless?
Side Note: My ABO dynamics and how I write it is different so be forewarned ig. Also, NSFW under the cut. MINORS AVERT YOUR EYES!
Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi
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Oscar didn’t think much of it when he jumped out of the car and didn't see Logan. He figured he’d rushed off to make sure Alex was okay after that nasty crash and see if the team was going to be able to fix the beta’s car. 
Practice had gone pretty decent. He should probably meet up with Lando to talk about how he’d felt in the car. All things considered, he’s mildly optimistic. 
The itch in his neck leaves him wondering which of his three mates could possibly be annoyed. Oscar usually assumes Liam, given the nature of the omega. Oscar had to learn to pick his battles early on. He understands that in entirely alpha or omega families, dynamics have to be flexible. Liam is more alpha coded then he is omega. Unfortunately for the mess of things that is the paddock, people give him shit for it and Oscar has had to haul the kiwi away before he killed somebody. 
Oscar, because he’d prefer not to spend his home race weekend bailing Liam out of jail, speeds off towards the RB garage. He doesn’t have to go far since Liam is also sprinting in his direction. “Oscar! Are you alright? I thought maybe something happened when you got out of the car since I feel all prickly.” The blonde smells both annoyed and concerned. 
Oscar shakes his head. “I thought you might be trying to take the head off Helmut again…” He shakes his head and continues his walk down to the Williams garage with Liam on his heels. “Have you seen the other two at all?” 
“Her and Logan walked down to the William's garage together. That was about twenty minutes ago.” 
On their trek to the end of the paddock, They end up running into George. The second British Omega on the grid. He’s pacing outside of the garage and Oscar has to bite back a gag at how distressed he smells. “George?”
“Oscar! They won’t let me in.” He’s raking fingers through his and getting increasingly more distressed the longer they are stuck outside. “He sent me a text saying something happened, but didn’t elaborate. I can feel his anger.” 
Oscar, because he has no idea what to do in this scenario, sends Liam with George to find Lewis, or Carlos, or Max, or Lando, or anyone else who might know what to do right now because he has no idea. He just needs to see the other half of his mates or he’s going to lose it. 
He tries to flag down anyone in the vicinity, only to be ignored. He’s about ready to come unhinged until he gets the attention of James. The alpha team principal keeps his distance - the invisible boundary line the only thing keeping Oscar from shaking the information out of him. Only, James doesn’t just smell like James. No - he smells like Oscar’s other two omegas. Both of which must be in heat. 
He tries to breathe; reign himself in so he doesn’t lose it and end his entire career (though he will if it comes down to it). “Where are they?” If there is a growl laced within the question, he can’t be bothered to care.”
James looks like he might jump into an explanation of some kind, but gets foiled by Alex. The beta looks pissed. The kind of anger that shows in every movement. 
“JAMES!” While Oscar flinches at the olders tone, James remains calm. It's aggravating in a way. “Tell Oscar what you did or I will.”
James sighs and motions for the Australian to follow him. Alex can't growl, but the way he's seething tells Oscar that he would if he could. It's ironic to think that between the three of them, Alex is the most angry compared to the two alphas trudging through the garage.  
James gestures for him to go inside. The scent leaking through the cracks in the door is terribly seductive and Oscar has to dig his nails into the palm of his hands to ground himself. “Neither of them were supposed to be in heat this early. All four of us are synced and just went through this a month ago.” he stares down the older alpha for an explanation. 
He takes an inventory of his own body. His own reaction to his mates in heat is more… intense. Like he can't keep himself off them. Currently he feels more protective than anything. 
“since James won't tell you, I will-”
“It's team business!” 
“Not when the safety of others is concerned!” 
James makes a lunge for Logan but Oscar matches his speed and steps in front of him. He wants to retch at how awful James smells at the moment. 
Four pairs of footsteps from the direction they had come from. Liam and George have managed to find them and dragged Carlos and Lando as well. It's terribly comforting to have more people around. 
“what's going on?” Lando whines at the door the closer he gets. “Is Logan in heat? But didn't he just have one?” 
Alex is much taller than Oscar, but the beta appreciates the gesture given the nature of how betas usually are towards anyone else. “Oscar, why don't you, me, George and James speak about this in his office. Carlos can come too, if you'd like.” 
“yeah - yeah okay. I need to know what happened.” He looks around for Liam and pulls him away from James. “Sorry - I don't know what's happening. I didn't mean too-” 
Liam attaches himself to the alpha and noses at his neck. “I'll take care of them while you're gone. Lando is going to stay also.” 
Oscar nods, kisses his head, and drags himself away. He doesn't want to go anywhere but inside that room. Be it biology or his own mind, clearly something is wrong and he would desperately like to be there for the people he loves. Still, Liam is here and that makes things better. They aren't alone. 
They settle into chairs in James’ office. Carlos opts to stay by the door watching everything going on outside. “Why are they taking apart Logan's car?” 
Oscar blinks at him. They're what?” 
“I crashed the car and broke the chassis. James decided to punish Logan for it. But that's not even the worst part!” Alex looks expectantly to his team principal. A silent urge for him to tell his own story. He gestures for Alex to come continue on and the beta rolls his eyes. “Logan and y/n walked here together. James summoned them into the office together. He told Logan he was going to give me his car. Obviously, I said no and…” 
George shuffles his way over to Alex. The physical contact between the two seems to lessen Alex's rising emotions. “It was probably my fault, since I kept saying no.” Alex throws a packet of heat inducers on the table. “I was restrained. James didn't show he had a whole package - just dissolved way over the recommended amount into a cup and commanded Logan to drink it. She got to it first so he didn't have to drink it, and downed the entire thing in seconds.” 
“That doesn't explain Logan’s-”
“He had more and just repeated it. Then he used that fucking voice to get them to not tell anybody and lock themselves away.” Alex looks like he's on the brink of tears. “I'm sorry, Oscar.” 
Oh - the rage that's building beneath his skin. He moves to throw himself at James, but is foiled by Carlos. “You can't help from jail.” 
Which, the Spaniard isn't wrong, so Oscar goes limp in his hold. He takes a few ragged breaths to force himself to calm down. “It's not your fault Alex, at all. Sounds to me like it's a move to cover his own ass.” 
“Alex is out best chance-” 
“Bullshit! I just murdered my car!” 
The door to the office is thrown open and Oscar has no time to react to the fact Max and Daniel, his pack alpha and omega - respectively, got word of this. 
“Did we need to alert the entire grid, Alex?” 
Max openly, and without hesitation, growls at the team principal in question. Daniel hits him upside the head to get him to stop. “Where’s Logan at?”
“My driver doesn’t need anymore assistance, Daniel-” 
All of them (aside from Alex) Descend into a fit of threatening noises. “Really? Because heat inducers can fuck up anyone’s body on a normal dose. Trust me James, I’ve been in this scenario with my own team.”
Briefly, Oscar recalls Lando talking about McLaren trying to induce Daniel’s heat without his knowledge. Andrea is a much better team principal and He can vividly recall Lando near sobbing when they were assured that would never happen. 
“In Logan’s room.” 
“Great! Here’s what we’re going to do then.” 
George has to drag Alex away from the Office and back up to his room. The British Omega throws a middle finger at James before he’s out of sight completely. Max is staying with James until things get sorted out. Which - unfortunately since the laws are so unfair - will mean James gets away scot free. Daniel says he’s going to be subjected to a lecture first. The rest of them head back to Logan’s room with the intent on getting out of the building. 
“Should I call Andrea and Zak?” Oscar looks desperately at Daniel for instructions. He’s never had to leave so suddenly and has no clue if there is a protocol for these things or not. 
“No worries, I took care of it. We just need to get them out of the paddock.” the older Aussie pats his shoulder reassuringly. “I’m assuming the four of you aren’t prepared at all?” 
Oscar shakes his head. “We all synched just last month.” 
“Anything you need then? I can send George and Alex on errands. Actually, I’m hoping for that seeing as Alex is desperate to help.” 
“I hope he sees that this isn’t his fault.”
“He’ll come around, I hope you know it’s not your fault either.” 
And here Oscar thought he was hiding it so well. He tries to shake it off, play his own insecurities down. “I’m-”
“Relax mate, Max felt guilty for weeks.”
“But it’s my job to protect them-” The voice crack was unnecessary and completely screwed him over in terms of hiding whatever feeling he had buried.
Daniel turns to face him right outside the door. “You can’t change the past, Oscar. You were never going to be able to stop this from happening. What you can do is help them now because they need you.” 
Oscar nods with newfound determination, and opens the door.
She certainly wouldn’t say it was her greatest decision, definitely one of the easier ones in the moment. She’d downed the drink without a hesitation. 
They’d attempted a nest. Tried to make the room comfortable. The amount of drugs in their systems was not making it easy. Instead opting to throw everything on the floor and try to sleep before they can’t. 
They’d stripped down to undergarments within the last few minutes. The heat steadily building and becoming too much. Still, she lays plastered against Logans body; his scent intoxicating. 
“You didn’t have to do that for me.” He noses at her neck, teeth nipping at the three scars lining her collar bone. 
“Wanted to help, Lo.” She feels like crying. The odd lack of connection bombarded her after James used his stupid voice. “Wanted you to race.” 
The door squeaks open sometime later. After a nap and the first round of what will probably be many. She peaks her head out from around Logan who’s gone defensive from the new intrusion. Only - Liam peaks his head inside and Lando follows before shutting the door again. She whimpers and tries to claw her way to Liam, but is pushed back gently by Lando. 
“He’s grabbing a few things.” She can see him trying to smile gently at her. 
Liam ends up between them, his own shirt off and one of Oscar’s sweatshirts in hand. She makes herself as small as possible to curl up into his side. “Do you two need anything specific right now.” 
“Where’s Osc?” Logan beats her to the question. 
“Talking with James, I believe.” 
The whines are involuntary. That part of her brain still fighting for its life wants to know why he’s not here right now. The overthinking side is claiming it’s because she’s undesirable now. “Does he still want us?” 
Liam coos at her, as does Logan and Lando. “You'll never not be undesirable.” 
“But what about James?”
“What do you mean?” She can feel Liams muscles tense underneath her. She shrinks in an attempt to hide from the new angry scent permeating the room. 
Thankfully, Logan takes over for her. “He used his voice on us. He wanted to give me inducers…” 
She, despite the struggle, rolls herself over Liam and into Logan's lap. “Not your fault.”
“I know-” his desperate whine nearly kills her. And Liam - by the looks of it. He's restraining himself if the way his jaw is tensing is any indicator. 
“Lando, would you mind possibly grabbing mine and Oscar's stuff so we don't have to leave here again if possible?” It's not fair really, that Liam can be bossy and she finds it attractive.  Oscar is also bossy, but he’s the gentle bossy and Logan isn’t bossy at all. Wow - her stupid hormones have her drooling over this and she doesn’t even know what this is. 
Liam makes up a list for Lando and the Brit runs off to collect the items. She wonders how long Oscar is going to be and if the ache in between her legs will let up until they can leave. 
It’s the only thing on her mind. It’s also now all over her thighs. An unfortunate circumstance where there are no towels on the ground. At this rate she might die if she can’t do something about these feelings and the longer she waits the more desperate she becomes. 
“Do you need something, darling?” Her hazy mind decides that now is a great time to register that she’s grinding into Liam's leg. She doesn’t stop though. If anything - she can’t, because he has a hand on her hip urging her to continue. “Only one of me at the moment, is this okay for now?” She makes a weak sound and makes a mess of herself and Liam’s poor thigh. Not like Logan is doing any better. They both smell good like this. 
She has no idea how much time passes, the endless amount of work she’s having to do finally wears her out enough to relax for the time being. 
“I guess I should’ve stripped all the way, huh?” She’s too tired to be embarrassed about Liam’s teasing comments. She barely even notices Liam attempting to clean her up. Her mind is too far gone. Enough that her and Logan are both ready to go again after a few measly minutes.
They don't get very far, instead scrambling under whatever is available as the door swings open. Liam is hissing at the intruder, only to see Oscar and Lando poke their heads inside. 
“Hey Daniel, I think maybe we’ll stay here for the time being and then when the traffic of the paddock dies down we can try and leave.” 
Daniel also slips into their space. She makes a lunge for either of the two Australians. Oscar is quick to react to her movements and get her to stay put underneath the little amount of covering she has. 
Lando drops the bags of stuff he was holding and tries to smile at them before he leaves. Unfortunately, his sad scent gives away his true feelings. She wonders if he knows the full story now since Oscar definitely does. 
It’s just her, her mates, and Daniel now. The pack Omega is hovering by the door and is clearly ready to leave them to their own devices. “Keep in mind that reactions to heat inducers are unpredictable but fast. You’ll only be in “heat” for about a day. Then you’ll just be sick, but we’ll take it as it comes.” 
Daniel reminds Oscar to text him if they need anything and then leaves them alone. Which - she likes Daniel, but being able to jump the bones of her mates sounds all too appealing. 
“James?” Logan looks pleadingly at Oscars for some kind of reassurance. 
“Is going to get an earful from Max and Daniel. Aside from that, he will probably get a slap on the wrist. Alex is ready to kill him though, if that’s what you wanted.”
The three of them find humor despite the nature of the situation. It’s why she loves them so much. The way she can feel safe and taken care of, but still be herself and laugh and give into her own desires. 
Oscar loses his own clothes. The fireproofs he was wearing around his waist come off in record time. 
“You're still going to race, right Osc?”
“We’ll see-” Oscar nearly jumps when the three of them whine and pout in unison. “I take it that you want me to race?” 
“We’ll make do without you.” 
“Hey!-”
“Liam is good for something after all!” Logan wheezes in laughter. Only for Liam to grumble and decide enough is enough. He takes Logan by the hips and slams right into him. 
She looks between the two of them and Oscar. She leans up to his ear, fully intent on whispering to him but gets a little distracted by his scent while shifting around.
“Need something?” 
Finally, she surrenders herself to the haze knowing she has all her mates with her. “Just you three.” 
275 notes · View notes
clxja16 · 1 year
Text
Our Life
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Pierre Gasly x Reader
Genre: established relationship, parents au!, dad Pierre
Warnings: angst, yelling, arguing
Word Count: 1.5K+
Author's Note: I realize this is probably the most I have ever posted here. and this is probably the first time I have two different 'on-going' stories out at the same time. well I had this idea for a while, except it was with Charles and I can't keep posting things with Charles man. but this concept works with Pierre so yeah. I don't think there will be a part two, unless you guys absolutely beg for a part two but there's a happy ending so yeah. also Idk if this is a fear for a lot of people or if im just being irrational, because its definitely a fear for me lol. anyway enjoy reading, pls let me know what you think.
------------------------
“If I want my son at the race then he will be at the race,” Pierre spoke loudly as he tried to get his point across to you.  
“Pierre, he’s only 10 months, I don’t think a race track when cars are flying past is the best idea for him,” you matched Pierre’s volume, you couldn’t understand why he just wouldn’t get it.  
“He can wear a headset, just like all the other drivers' kids do, I want my son at the race with me,”  Pierre wouldn’t let it go. 
“No Pierre, I don’t want him there, and I don’t want all the media with pictures of our son, we’ll be…”
“You don’t have to come this weekend, but my son will be there this weekend, nanny can come with him.” 
“Pierre you’re not getting it, I don’t think that's the best environment for our son, right now, maybe when he’s a little older.”  
“y/n what do you think is gonna happen to him?” 
“I don’t know,” you shook your head at this point, “anything could happen to him, I don’t wanna risk it.” 
Pierre sighed, running his hands through his hair, “he’s coming to the race this weekend, he’s my son…” 
“OUR SON,” you shouted at the top of your lungs, cutting Pierre as the tears finally escaped you, “he is our son.” 
The sound of the baby crying coming through the monitor stopped you from continuing on.  You and Pierre both sighed, knowing that you’re shouting at each other is what woke him.  “Let me…” Pierre spoke up first.  
You waved your hand to dismiss him, “I’ll get him.” You quickly exited your shared bedroom with Pierre and made your way to the nursery, wiping away the escaped tears.  Down the hall, before you entered the nursery you took a deep breath, calming your racing heart.  
“Hi boy,” you spoke softly to the crying baby, picking him up.  You held him close to you, afraid that he would be taken away.  You closed your eyes, breathing him in, your perfect son. You cradled him in your arms, rocking him back to sleep.  You watched him sleepily yawn, he had his father’s eyes. Eyes you loved very much.  
“Dear,” Marta called out to you.  Marta was an older woman that Pierre hired as a housekeeper to help around the house.  Marta didn’t have any kids, her husband had died many years ago.  She became a mother to you, since your mother wasn’t anywhere near.  
“Marta,” you sighed, “I’m sorry, did me and Pierre wake you?” Because it’s only Marta by herself, Pierre had her move into the downstairs bedroom, it’s especially helpful when Pierre is away during the season.  
“Don’t worry about me, I can sleep plenty when I’m no longer here,” Marta smiled, taking a seat next to you in the nursery, “what’s bothering you?” 
You shook your head, as you smiled at your little boy in your arms, “Pierre wants to take the boy to Monza this weekend, and I don’t think it’s a good idea.”  
“That’s not it,” Marta said, as she gave you a look.  A look a mother gives when she knows her child is lying. 
You felt the tears begin to well in your eyes, “he’s our son.” You whisper into the night, like the words are a sin.  You look up at Marta, meeting her kind eyes, her eyes telling you to continue you on.  “He’s our son,” you speak a little louder, as the tears fall, “he’s not just Pierre’s son, he’s my son too.”  
“I see,” Marta hums, nodding her head, “and? Why does that bother you?” 
“He’s all I have left Marta.” You pulled the baby closer to you.  “He’s all I have.”  You took a deep breath, closing your eyes.  You breathed him in, you burned this moment to your memories.  You treat this as if it’s your last moment with your son.  You opened your eyes looking at Marta, “He’s all I have.  You know, when I got pregnant, it wasn’t planned.  It was an accident, me and Pierre had only been together for just under two years.  But we said we were gonna do this, we were gonna have this kid and raise him together.  Pierre makes more money than me.”  You took another deep breath, trying to gather all your thoughts.  “I had a good job, a place of my own, but there was no way I could raise a child by myself, and I couldn’t expect Pierre to move.  He lives in Milan because it’s best for his career, he was set up already.  I gave up all that I had, so he could be in his son’s life, and maintain his career.”  
“You regret that?” 
“No, no, never, Pierre is so good with him.  He’s such a good father,” you smiled at the thought of Pierre with the boy.  “But I’m so scared Marta.” you felt guilty for even speaking your feelings aloud.  “Everything belongs to Pierre.  I live in Pierre’s house, I drive Pierre’s cars, I fly on Pierre’s dime, I am completely dependent on Pierre.  We’re not married, I own nothing, all I have is this boy, and Pierre has all the power to take him away.”  
“You think…” 
“I know,” you spoke quickly, “I know Pierre wouldn’t just randomly kick me out, but that doesn’t mean I don’t fear the possibility.”  You felt the hot strikes of your tears, “If Pierre doesn’t want me anymore, I won’t have anything.  I have no money to my name, I have no job, no place to stay, I have nothing without Pierre.  If he decides he no longer wants me, I have no way to support myself or go back home.” 
“That possibility scares you?” 
“It does, and everytime we argue, he reminds me of that possibility, by saying ‘my son.’  He’s not his son, he’s our son, our child.  Both mine and his, our son, together.” 
“Oh dear,” Marta sighed, as she stood, pulling you close to her standing figure.  
“Is it wrong to be scared?” you asked as you silently sobbed, holding your son closer to you.  
“No dear, it’s not wrong to be scared, it’s the world we live in.”  Marta said, as she held onto you tightly, wishing she could take away your fears.  She wondered where in her lifetime did she go wrong?  Why do the women of today have the same fears as the women of before? 
Little to your knowledge, Pierre had overheard your conversation with Marta.  And he thought how could he be so stupid?  How did he not realize how damaging his words were?  How did he not realize the weight they carried?  How could he allow this to happen?  He mentally slapped himself over and over again for not realizing his mistake.  Our son, the boy, was your’s and Pierre’s son.  
-
“Pierre, where are we going?” you asked as you sat in the passenger seat, as Pierre drove.  
“To do something I should’ve done a long time ago,” Pierre said, as he pulled into a parking garage.  
“Isn’t this your lawyers’ law firm?” you asked, as Pierre parked the car.  
“Yes,” Pierre answered, as he made his way around the car to open the door for you.  
“What are we doing here?” 
“You’ll see,” Pierre said, taking your arm, as the two of you walked into the building lobby.  You silently followed after Pierre, as he made through the lobby, up the elevator and to his lawyer’s office. You watched him exchange a few words with the man behind the desk, before the two of you took a seat, opposite of the lawyer.  “I’m sorry these changes are a bit spur of the moment, but it’s something I should have done a long time ago.” 
“Since the house is paid off, it was actually really easy changes,” the lawyer spoke before setting down paperwork before you and Pierre.  “I’ll just need you both to sign on the line, and initially at the tabs.” 
“Pierre what is this?” you asked, picking up the paperwork before.  
“I’m putting your name on the house,” Pierre said, as he signed his set of paperwork.  
“What?” you asked, as you threw the papers back on the desk, as if they were burning your hands.  “Pierre this is a big thing, that’s your house…” 
“Our,” Pierre said, correcting your statement.  The one word had you shutting your mouth.  
“Huh?” 
“Our house,” Pierre said, as he set his paperwork and pen down, “We have a son together, and our son needs a home.  We need a home for our family.  This house can be our home, together.  y/n, I should have done this when you gave up everything for me, for our family together.  I am sorry this is so late, too late, but I want it to be our home together.  This is our life together, none of this mine anymore.”  
You couldn’t wipe the smile from your face even if the devil himself appeared before you.   You signed away at the line and initialed at all the tabs.  You were so grateful that Pierre was willing to share his life with you.  “You know, you could’ve just asked me to marry you,” you joked as you and Pierre made your way back to the car.  
“I am, I’m just going to do it right,” Pierre smirked at you, “plus it actually doesn’t cost money to add someone’s name to the deed of a house, when the house is paid off.”
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greg-montgomery · 8 months
Text
any other world - prologue
Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader - soulmate au
series masterlist
to those who voted no on my poll: i see you and i get you 🙏🏻 i’ll try not to be frustrating and make you wait too long
also i want to thank @criminalskies and @hotchs-bitch for listening to me talk about this idea, it motivated me 🫶🏻
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- 18 -
“Stop!”
“Not unless you tell me.”
“Never.”
Sticking to your word seemed impossible at that moment though, as Aaron’s hands attacked your sides, causing you to giggle in a way that made it hard to breathe.
“Okay, I give up,” you cried out. “I give up, stop.”
“Okay,” he said, and the motion of his hands turned quickly into a comforting, soothing one.
“Promise you won’t make fun?”
Aaron lowered himself on top of you and left a sweet kiss on the tip of your nose. “On my life,” he said, and placed his palm over his chest.
“Alright…” You took a deep breath and continued. “Leila if it’s a girl. Jack if it’s a boy.”
Aaron had promised he wouldn’t make fun, so it sure made you feel curious as to why he had turned red from laughing.
“You liar!” You slapped his arm softly.
“No,” he rushed to defend himself, his voice muffled with laughter. “No, it’s just…Jack is the most generic name. How did you come up with that?”
“I just think it’s cute. Jack,” you said the name with a smile. “Short and cute.”
“Jack…” he repeated after you, testing it on his tongue. “Maybe you’re onto something.”
“See? I told you.”
“Jack and Leila.”
“We’re having both?” you questioned with a grin.
“Obviously.”
You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer to your body. Aaron melted on top of you in the same way he always did, as if you were his home.
You stared up at him dreamily, running your fingers through his hair; dark and full, you wished your future kids would get that part of him. His dimples, his smile, his cheeks... every part of him was perfect.
“You’re staring, tulip.”
“What? Am I not allowed to admire the future father of my kids?”
Aaron’s grin grew wider, but he didn’t let you look at it for too long, as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, leaving tiny kisses on the sensitive skin.
“I’m gonna wake up every morning before anyone else to make us all a nice breakfast.”
“Now I know that’s a lie,” he said, his lips behind your ear. “You’re always still asleep when I return from my morning runs.”
“Okay, fine. You’ll make breakfast, I’ll make dinner.”
“Deal.”
--
- 11 -
 “Stay still!”
“I am still!”
“You’re not and it’s gonna turn out all wrong. It has to be perfect.”
Aaron pouted, but followed your instructions anyway. You both wanted it to look as real as possible. Then people would think you were real soulmates already. Even if you were only eleven.
A.H. on your skin. [Y/I] on his.
Your classmates later made fun of you for them and said they looked fake. But neither of you cared. You just had to stay patient, and the marks on your wrists would turn real when it was finally time.
--
- 16 -
Tulip was an easy flower to draw as a kid. Especially when you had to draw one every day for the boy you had a crush on.
Now, as a teenager you cringed at the memory of all the drawings you used to leave on Aaron’s desk during third grade. But Aaron had never made fun of you for it. Instead he had shown you his collection of your tulip drawings. He had kept them all in a shoe box.
Just like you had kept his. And on top of the stack there was of course the most important one. The one with the “Will you be my girlfriend?” question and the ‘yes or no’ boxes underneath it.
You were both artistic as kids when it came to expressing your love for each other and it was both sweet and embarrassing.
You and Aaron had grown up together, your houses right next to each other. The memory of your first day of school with a little backpack in one hand and Aaron’s hand in your other was engraved in your brain.
Aaron was your best friend. The one who stood up for you every time a kid decided to be funny on your expense. The one who helped you with your homework when science got too hard to understand. The one you played hide and seek with and had physical fights with over board games.
But he was also the boy you had a crush on. The one that filled your stomach with butterflies every time he smiled at you. The one whose name you filled your notebook pages with along with pink glittery hearts. The one who stole your first kiss and the one you daydreamed about every night as you fell asleep.
He was your soulmate. And he thought so too.
“Is Aaron staying for dinner?” your mom yelled from downstairs, as you and Aaron studied on your bedroom floor.
“He is,” you yelled back, without even asking him. He kept running his thumb over his knuckles, which was a sign that he was stressed. There was no need for him to tell you what had happened when he had rung your doorbell earlier that day. All the screaming from the house next to yours had reached your own ears perfectly clear.
If you could, you’d hold him in your arms forever, protecting him from the world. He’d never have to go home again.
“We have tomato soup and grilled cheese, your favorite,” you whispered and he smiled at you.  
--
- 21 -
A pair of chapped lips pressed against your forehead, as your naked body was resting against Aaron’s.
“I’ve told you to put this on before bed. It’ll change your life,” you said, shifting to reach a small lip balm jar you had left on his nightstand.
Opening the little box, you dipped your ring finger in it and got some product, ready to apply it on Aaron’s lips.
Using your arm on his chest to steady yourself, you put it gently across his lips.
“My soulmate mark is about to appear in less than ten minutes and you’re worried about my chapped lips,” he joked.
“Exactly! It’s a big moment for us, and your lips need to be ready.”
“Ready for what?” he smirked.
“Shut up,” you said, and dropped your head back on his chest.
His fingers tracing patterns on your bare back made you yawn and he was quick to prevent you from falling asleep.
“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me.”
“I won’t,” you promised.
“Eight minutes,” he breathed.
“Eight minutes and our forever begins.”
@magical-spit
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hazybisou · 10 months
Text
STALKING IS ILLEGAL KID! | LUKE HUGHES
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pairing: f!reader x luke hughes
overview: week 1: luke tries to get y/n to agree to go on a date with him (as if she doesn’t know who he is and the reputation he and the team holds throughout umich) despite her suspicions against the whole scenario.
o. i. ii. iii. iv. v. vi. au masterlist
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
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she felt weird.
everywhere she went, there was always someone (or more) watching. y/n didn’t know why, she just simply chose to ignore it.
so as she made her way out of the library , she couldn’t help but notice a group of guys looking at her from a table in the corner. they turned their heads away as soon as she looked at them. she’s seen their faces around campus. she knew who they were. so why did she ignore them? simple. y/n knew better than to get involved with umich hockey team.
jess had told her about the people she should and shouldn’t be near. one of them including the whole team. it wasn’t anything bad but it was more of a “unless-you-want-to-deal-with-those-idiots-and-their-ways-i-suggest-you-stay-away” type of talk.
y/n couldn’t help but feel annoyed and roll her eyes. this has been going on for the past few days. one of them was always staring her down as she walked by. she was sick of it.
she stood there for a minute thinking of her next decision and if it would be wise and careful. “i’m sick of this shit so fuck it.” she whispered to herself.
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
the four boys didn’t notice she had caught them. they were too engrossed in their own conversation (revolving around her obviously) to even look up. they had been coming up for a way for luke to ask her out or somewhat get to know her.
for the past 5 days, ever since the party, that’s all they’ve been doing. planning. scheming. plotting. whatever you wanna call it, it’s all they’ve doing.
“what if you like accidentally bump into her.” dylan suggested with a shrug. “it’s cliche but it could work.”
luke just shook his head. “no way is that happening.” he sighed. “this is pointless. we’ve ran out of ideas. i mean it’s already bad enough i agreed to doing this shit but-”
he got interrupted.
“can i help you?”
they four looked up to find the girl staring down at them.
“i’m sorry?” mark questioned.
“well considering the fact that you’ve been staring at me for a while now, you tell me.” she remarked.
luke cringed and closed his eyes as he realized they had all been caught. they didn’t mean to stare, really they hadn’t, but they did. maybe it was curiosity that got the best of them.
“oh we weren’t-”
she just laughed. “you weren’t what? looking? you know i’m starting to think you all have a problem with me or something.”
everyone somehow turned to look at luke for a second. he just gave them a look in return as to say ‘what?’.
“jess was right. you guys are weird.”
that had confirmed their assumptions. she was jess’s new roommate.
mackie asked, “you know jess?”
she nodded. “she’s my roommate. who has told me what i need to know.”
luke perked up at that statement. “what exactly has she told you?”
“wouldn’t you like to know?” dylan leaned over and said in a low voice so only luke could hear.
luke elbowed him in the rib. “shut the hell up.” he responsed in a whisper before turning back towards the girl.
“not much. just how you’re all self centered dickheads who think way too highly of themselves and need an ego check. you know, the small things.”
fucking jess.
mark turned to her. “do you believe her?”
“i’m starting too.” she said. she was about to turn around before pausing and looking back at them. “don’t let me catch you staring again. it’s creepy.” with that, she turned and walked off towards the entrance.
“bro, go talk to her.” mackie suggested as he gestured to the girl who was walking away.
luke quickly got up and began to jog over in order to catch up to her. he began to slow down as he was right behind her. “hey.”
she paused. “what do you want now?” she turned around and crossed her arms.
“i just wanted to um-i wanted to ask if-can i have your number?” luke got out.
y/n furrowed her eyebrows at the question. “yeah no. especially after what just happened back there.” she took a step. “and i don’t even know your name.”
you idiot. who asks for a girls number without giving them your name first?? she already thinks you’re weird.
is what luke thought to himself as he squeezed his eyes shut.
“it’s luke.”
“maybe next time, luke.”
and with that, she walked away.
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
it was a thursday morning and y/n was out, shopping at a strip mall. she and jess had decided to look for new clothes for the spring that was to come in two months.
“hey jess, how about this?” y/n said as she held up a navy blue halter top that had a lace trim to her body.
she turned around to hoping to find jess.
she didn’t.
rather she were met with luke’s tall, lanky, figure.
“i think it looks great.” he responded, a hand in his pocket while the other was pointing to the top. “although i’m sure i’m not the person you were hoping to ask.”
“nooooo, really?” y/n said, sarcasm obviously laced in her voice.
luke smiled and nodded his head.
“where is jess?” she asked as she started to look around, hoping to get out of this situation.
“i don’t know. she saw me and waved and wondered off.” he shrugged.
“thanks, that was very helpful.”
“i know right. i’m such great help.”
“asshole.” she whispered to herself.
“what was that? i couldn’t quite hear you.” luke questioned as he leaned down to her height and put a hand behind his ear, signifying he was listening. she didn’t know why but she somehow found that attractive.
“nothing.” she quickly replied. luke had a smug look on his face. “move, i’m going to find jess.” she muttered as she pushed past luke and began to walk to a different aisle she thought (hoped) jess would be in.
luke stood there, dumbfounded, before he turned around and began to walk with her. “you know we should hang out. grab dinner, talk, get to know each other..” he trailed off and y/n just scoffed and turned around.
“why are you talking to me?” the girl suddenly inquired.
luke was taken aback.
“what?”
“why are you talking me?” she repeated. “i mean i don’t even know you, apart from the fact that your name is luke and you play for the school’s hockey team, but other than that, i don’t, i’m literally talking to a stranger right now.”
luke half smiled. “since when is talking to a pretty girl like yourself, illegal?”
she shouldn’t have blushed at that comment but she did any way. luke seemed to have noticed as he let out a small chuckle.
“that still didn’t answer my question.” she quipped back.
“well, i want to get to know you. i saw you one day and couldn’t help but think, ‘god, she’s beautiful’ so why not talk to you?”
y/n rolled her eyes. “you’re a weird dude, you know that?” he smiled sheepishly.
“i’m gonna go find jess.” she said. “hopefully the next time i see you, it’s when we’re out of college.” she told him as she walked away, a small sway in her hips.
luke stood there, a smile on his face before he turned around to exit the store.
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
the next day, y/n was at work at a local diner across the street from campus. she had an afternoon shift from 5:30 pm to 10:00 pm. pop had asked her if she could close the diner which she had agreed to. so here she stood, bent over slightly, as she wiped down the booth table at the end of the aisle of booths.
the lyrics to an old song from the 70’s came form the jukebox on the opposite end of the diner and had reached their way to her ears. she had began to sing the lyrics quietly to herself.
there was only a couple, a regular who was a sweet old man named tom, and her co-worker, pop (also known as the owner of the diner) left. he was 52 years old and was still running the place. in y/n’s eyes, he’s a second father to her. he always took care of her and had great advice.
she suddenly heard the bell above the door ring, signaling someone had walked in. although closing time wasn’t until 10:00, she had decided to start getting the place ready for close up time by wiping the countertops and tables.
“sorry, we’re closed.” she announced to whoever had walked in, not even bothering to look up y the table.
“doesn’t seem like it to me.” an, oh, so familiar voice said.
y/n paused her movements as she looked up from where she was busy cleaning, to find the infamous luke hughes, standing at the entrance.
y/n put the rag over her shoulder and walked towards the counter, getting behind it to take luke’s order. “stalking is illegal ya know?” she stated. “no matter where i am, you’re always right behind me.”
luke just rolled his eyes and scoffed as he took a seat on the barstool closest to her. “i’m not stalking you.”
“then how’d you figure out where i work?” she responded as she closed the cashier.
“don’t worry about it.” he waved off.
y/n squinted at him. “you asked jess, didn’t you?”
“no.”
she gave him a raised eyebrow.
“maybe.”
y/n groaned and just grabbed her notepad she used to take orders. “well you’re here now, might as well take your order. what can i get for you?” she asked as she put on a fake smile.
“i’ll take two vanilla milkshakes, please.” luke said and she wrote his order down.
y/n looked up from notepad. “is that all?” she asked the boy. he nodded his head and y/n ripped the paper out. “i’ll be back with your shakes.”
she walked over towards the small window that looked into the kitchen. “order in pop!” she exclaimed as she slid the paper over to the man who took it and began to look at it.
“two vanilla milkshakes? for that lonely fella?” pop questioned as he looked over to luke who was looking around. “is he your boyfriend or somethin’?”
“i barely know the kid. we’ve only talked twice.” y/n said as she held up two fingers.
pop just shook his head and smiled. “he seems like a good kid.”
“i guess. you know he asked me out the other day?” pop raised his eyebrows in amusement. she laughed. “i don’t know. he just did.”
“and you said no?”
“well yeah. what am i supposed to say? you can’t know someone for two days and ask them out. that’s weird.” y/n stated. “and not very proper.”
“he probably likes you.” pop suggested.
“la la la la la la! no! don’t go there!” she told him as she pointed a finger at him. “no.”
he just laughed before he backed up slightly. “i’ll be back with your order.” he said. “for now..go talk to him.” y/n just shook her head.
she walked back to the counter and got to work. tom had paid already, but he had decided to stay for a little longer. she looked over and noticed he had begun to grab the newspaper and his bag. he got up and walked towards the counter. “i’ll see you tomorrow tom?”
“sadly, no. charlotte’s coming down from wisconsin for her birthday.” he replied back with a smile on his face at the mention of his granddaughter.
“oh tell her i said happy birthday.”
“i will. goodbye, y/n.” he waved towards the girl.
“bye tom!” y/n waved back as he left the building, the bell ringing.
she went back to the cashier as the couple came up to pay for their food. she handed them their cash before waving goodbye as they also exited, the bell ringing once again.
“so i was thinking,” luke started.
“i forgot you were still here.”
luke just shushed her. “as i was saying, i was thinking of heading to the beach tomorrow.” luke continued. “and i was wondering if you wanted to come with me? that way we can get to know each other.”
“luke seriously, what is it with you and trying to get me to go somewhere with you?” y/n stated.
“what? you don’t trust me?” luke asked.
“it’s not that i don’t trust you, which i don’t, it’s just that we’ve only known each other for two days and you already want to take me out when i don’t even know you.”
“well then this is your chance to get to know me better.” luke explained.
“you won’t give up till i say yes, will you?”
“mhm.”
“no.” she bluntly answered.
“oh, come on y/n! let me get to know you. learn more about you. you seem like a nice person. it’s obvious from the way you are with strangers and customers.” he whined.
“it’s called having manners.”
“please? just one time.”
“if i say yes to going, will you leave me alone?”
luke perked up at the question. “yes! i promise! you just say yes and i’ll leave you alone afterwards if you want me to.”
“promise?”
“promise. i’ll even lock pinkys with you.” he replied.
“okay.” y/n said.
“okay? as in you’ll go with me tomorrow?” he repeated.
she nodded. “okay, as in i’ll go with you tomorrow as long as you leave me alone later.”
a big smile appeared on luke’s face. “thank you! you’re the best.” he exclaimed before he got up and took his wallet out. he pulled out a twenty before placing it on the counter.
she grabbed it and held it up. “what the hell?”
“for the milkshakes.” he explained.
“oh.”
“okay i’ll uh, i’ll see you tomorrow.” he rushed out before he turned around and began to walk towards the door before he suddenly paused and turned around. “i need your number.”
“oh.” y/n muttered. “um, give me your phone.” she said as she stuck out her hand. he fished his phone out of his pocket before unlocking it and handing it to her. she opened his contacts and added a new contact before typing her number in. “here. text me which one, and at what time.”
“ok i will. bye!” he rushed out. “oh and by the way, you look cute in your uniform.” he told her before turning around and leaving the diner, a slight breeze making its way in.
y/n felt her face get hot and she couldn’t help but smile before it quickly disappeared, reminding herself to not get excited over a boy.
“order is served.” pop said as he placed two milkshakes on the windowsill.
“sorry pop, he just left. but at least he payed his debts.” y/n stated as she held up the twenty dollar bill before placing it back on the countertop.
pop just smiled. “free milkshake?” he said as he held on up towards her.
a smile crept up onto her face. “duh. let me just lock the door.”
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so like this is probably the most i’ve ever written in general which is fun. this took me like 8 days to write and it honestly sucks BOOTY!! but like it’s 1 in the morning right now and i’m low on energy so it makes sense? i think. also next chapter is js gonna be the beach “date”?? and some other stuff so be prepared for that. now i will be going to sleep bc i have to deal with children tmrw morning starting at 8:30. (why did i agree to helping out with summer school?? i don’t even know y) goodnight lovelies 🫶🫶
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itshype · 1 year
Text
Excuse me, do you work here? (DC x DP)
This is sort of based off of the core idea behind The second, secret Justice League, so mayhaps consider reading that if you haven't? It'll take you 2 minutes max. Also, here's my masterpost.
So, Danny frequently works with the JL headquartered in the Infinite Realms. Basically, every League-Adjacent hero who died in costume chose to continue their work and make the Violent Afterlife a little safer. It's lead by Jason Todd as Batman (he never revived after Joker killed him in this AU - ....yet?) and has whomever else you like it in it. It's still just called the Justice League because with the zone inhabitants being long dead, never born or aliens, enough of them are unfamiliar with Justice League Earth.
They're better than ghost cops because they all died within the last decade. They remember what it is to be alive, they remember living people who they love and it changes the way that their minds think about crime and criminals in the zone. Their criminals are still people, not just obstructions to their obsessions.
And in a fun swap, Jason lives in mortal terror of the day anyone dares to kill the Joker. He hopes that asshole lives to the age of 108 and dies peacefully in bed so the chances of the Joker becoming an ecto-entity are as low as possible.
The regular, non-secret Justice League are kidnapped by a cool Alien species who want to make them fight. Not to the death, unless you feel like it, but more as a exhibition match. Martian Manhunter, Superman, Green Lantern and Constantine are not pumped to be kidnapped but the Lantern explains that doing well in this tournament will be super great going forward. If other planets hear about Earth's robust defence, they're all going to be less likely to fuck around and find out in future.
So, Constantine, in his infinite wisdom decides to - while they wait for the whole thing to start - summon the "best equipped" Justice League member to fight on their behalf. This other member (he assumes it will be Wonder Woman or Plastic Man) will probably not love being taken to a new planet. But, it's for the greater good and they'll all be taken home later.
But he didn't specify which Justice League - not knowing there are two. A 14 year old (looking) boy shows up. Superman is furious. Constantine, trembling with horror in what his hasty actions have done, explains everything.
Danny's thrilled, he's on a NEW PLANET?! He's met a MARTIAN? And he gets to do a low-stakes fight that could save millions of lives someday? This is the best day ever!
Danny tells them he's gonna fight, and he's gonna win, and they're going to help him get in touch with Batman on Earth when he's done. As payment.
He wants to tell Earth Batman that Ghost Batman loves him and never blamed him etc etc. Things Jason didn't exactly tell Danny to tell Bruce, but that he's mentioned to the team as wishing he could reach out and tell Batman before. (Why doesn't Jason go to Earth? Maybe he doesn't know which one, maybe the idea of being on the same planet as Joker sends him into a destructive rage, maybe he thinks telling Bruce he's still out there would do more harm than good... idk)
4 adult heroes watch in awe as Danny does a magic girl transformation into Inverted Danny and starts pulling more and more powers out of absolutely nowhere. Danny obliterates his competition and everyone is scared to hell of him. He gives an unwanted speech about what an honour it was to represent his solar system (he's thinking of his new bestie Martian Manhunter's culture's safety too).
It's only on the way home in the spaceship owned by the tournament mangers that it occurs to any of the Normal Justice League members to ask how this kid they've never even heard of is a member of their team and what he wants to discuss with Batman.
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