#Authors Note: Do not read this as anger; I am passionate about this yes but I mean no ill will

[northwest-cryptid]

honestly, completely understandable. if i may give a basic concept of my vision. consider an MMO, let's say... warcraft, because I can use it as a decent example. we take the Eastern kingdoms there, and measure it, clocks in at about 24 kilometres across. that's about the distance from my home city to the nearest one, and personally? when I hear "virtual world" that shit is way too small.

when I imagine a virtual world, I imagine it almost like an smal country in it's own, let's say for a different example, the size of florida. now consider how much server space warcraft uses, even if we estimate only a 3rd of that is the Eastern kingdoms. then we scale thar 24 Km length to... about 720 Km and you'll probably see where the sheer scale of the servers are needed. and when you've got all those servers, heat will be an issue. either one could essentially run their system through instances and try distribute the load, or you gotta find a way to deal with all that heat.

the best way I can imagine, is by reducing the energy waste of the servers, in which case my first thought was the ideal in a superconductor. if resistance is 0, efficiency is near 100% and nearly no heat is produced. alas we don't live in a perfect world, and while it's fun to think on applications for stuff like that, it's also painful to know the best we've got (in this case fibre optics and silver) isn't even close.

I can tell our visions are different, and thank you for the well wishes, I hope you can make yours a reality because like this I certainly can't.

I respect that you took what I said without hostility so I don't mind continuing this conversation.

While I don't know things like Warcraft personally; I do know a good bit about how servers work and the like. I think you're really getting caught up in the weeds so to speak. By which I mean, you're concerned about problems you don't have, stopping yourself from taking the first step because you're being prevented by imaginary problems.

If you look up EVE Online's size for example you'll find a notable quote that states: "With a total area of 11,126,487.6 Astronomical Units² (AU) — or in other words, 249 sextillion km² — the playable universe of EVE Online earns its place in the halls of greatness when it comes to sheer size." Now EVE actually only runs 3 servers, but from what I understand has plenty on the back end working to keep everything running smoothly.

In other words, what you're looking for isn't nearly as big of a deal as you may think it is. You're speaking of superconductors, heat, and resistance as if any of that honestly matters, and it just doesn't.

Data centers house literally thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of servers. Most MMORPGs run parallel instances of their game worlds 10 times over per region without any issue.

Again I really don't want to come across as being rude or looking down on you or something. That couldn't be further from my intention and I do apologize if I come across that way; it's hard for me to know what kind of tone I give off but that's not an excuse for me to be an asshole.

That being said I don't think you have an understanding of this as much as you think you do. I believe you're getting caught up on a fictional problem created by a fictional situation that you're not even dealing with yet.

I can't just let someone give up on something before they even start just because they don't have a full understanding of the actual situation at hand.

Games like FFXIV, Mabinogi, or even games like Black Desert Online, and Elite Dangerous or No Man's Sky; they're all MASSIVE and yet they use tricks like instances to keep their games running smoothly while running on a singular server.

Even Warcraft, which I admittedly don't know a lot about as I don't play; can be easily looked up and you'll find that:

"Blizzard uses 20,000 systems and 1.3 petabytes of storage to power its gaming operations. WoW's infrastructure includes 13,250 server blades, 75,000 CPU cores, and 112.5 terabytes of blade RAM. The Blizzard network is managed by a staff of 68 people."

These aren't impossible numbers, but you're also not Blizzard. I'm not Blizzard. We're not dealing with numbers that large, we don't need to because we don't have the demand for it.

When developers like CCP Games (The developers behind EVE online) made the game in the first place, they had a few thousand people playing it and managing their servers became a real problem for them; but they also had the money and staff necessary since they were a company who was selling thousands of copies of their game; that they could afford to upgrade their servers.

CCP ran into more issues with modern tech keeping up with their demand but ultimately had the money to keep up with buying the latest greatest for their servers and staff to keep their game running.

They didn't stop themselves from attempting because of the need to run a game as large as EVE before they ever made it; they expanded the servers and game world over time through understanding current limitations and figuring out how to feasibly surpass them.

I don't say this all of this to put you down, rather I say these things because it really feels like you WANT there to be a problem.

It's easier to give up and not try when you feel like the only possible solution to your idea is entirely out of your hands. If it's an impossibility from the start, why bother right?

I used to be like that too, which is why I feel like it sounds familiar. Fear of trying and failing amounts to determining that it couldn't be done to begin with; because it feels like we're justified in giving up when the task is literally not possible.

When you say "I hope you can make yours a reality because like this I certainly can't." You're telling me you feel like you're not able to achieve what you want, despite the fact that it's entirely possible without all the fancy computers and stargates and sci fi shenanigans.

I'm not trying to speak for you, we don't know each other; you're an anon I'm just some random blogger on the internet. I can't claim to understand you and all that, so please take what I'm about to say with a grain of salt, it wouldn't be wrong to necessarily say I'm projecting here; because I used to very much sound just like you.

The thing is, you're right; you can't achieve what you want. Not as you are now, not when you won't try. Because until you've created anything at all, until you have a world to put out there, you can't possibly even have to face the problem of server space or thermodynamics and shit.

So worry about what's in front of you; get out there, make mistakes, learn and grow. Open Unity, or Unreal, or whatever application you prefer and just make a small map it doesn't matter if it's good just make SOMETHING.

Take the first step.

You can call me short sighted if you want but when I think about creating a virtual world my worries are not on the problems that might happen down the line; they're on whether or not I can even get there.

A poor man worrying about what to do when he wins the lottery doesn't make any sense if he can't afford to play the lottery.

A prime example of what I mean is that, for my plan to work I need some way to link worlds to each other in VRChat while keeping the linked worlds set to private so there's only one way to access them, that way being through the hub world.

The problem here is that I'm about 90% sure if a world is set to private, it cannot have a portal linking to it in a public world; it just won't work like that.

So why am I not working on a solution to that problem? That's really simple, and it's as easy to explain as; I won't even have to deal with that problem if I can't make the worlds first!

I can't let myself get tangled up in the details of things not working exactly how I imagined they would before I even have the worlds I need to link via portals in the first place.

This is a classic example of "putting the cart before the horse"

There are a thousand different ways to go about fixing a problem, but you don't need to worry about a problem you won't ever have. That's just an excuse to not try!

I'm not saying this to point a finger at you and say you're doing something wrong, I'm saying this because I want you to consider this for yourself. I want you to take a look at yourself and really think about if those server problems and the laws of thermodynamics are stopping you.

Or is it something else?

I think you'd understand this all a lot better if you actually took the steps to try.

So here, I won't hold you to it; I won't mock you if you give up or whatever. However, whether or not you take the real first step is up to you I can't force you but it sounds like you want to, so let me try to help.

Download Unity, it's free for personal use. Let's take the first step here.

Open the Unity Hub, in the upper right you'll find a button that says "New Project" click that.

Now select whether or not you want to use 2D or 3D; I'm going with 3D because I'm going to be making a world for VRChat.

You can use whichever version of Unity you prefer.

Click Create Project in the bottom right.

My screen may look a bit different than yours because I'm using the VRChat Creator Companion which has a whole suite of plugins it adds for the sake of making a VRChat world. That being said, you should be able to follow along just fine.

(If you'd like to grab the Creator Companion and make worlds for VRChat you can get it free here: https://vcc.docs.vrchat.com/)

You should have something like this, minus the Packages/Assets that VRChat's Creator Companion adds of course

We could either create Terrain through right clicking somewhere in the hierarchy and clicking the "3D Object -> Terrain" button, or we could create a world through various assets in the asset store. No worries we'll only use free stuff. For the sake of example I'm going to be using the asset store because I find it's easier for people starting out.

To access the Asset Store we're going to click the drop down for "Window" at the top, and then select Asset Store (I have mine docked but I don't believe it will be by default).

Now in the store I'm going to search for Sci-Fi Styled Modular Pack and set the price to free. You can search for anything you'd like, but this is what I will be using.

I'm just going to click the button that says Open In Unity and add it to my project by clicking the Import button in the Package Manager that should open when clicking the Open In Unity button.

Everything should be selected by default, but if it's not; go ahead and click the All button at the top left, and then the Import button in the lower right.

Now I'm going to go into the Assets -> Sci-Fi Styled Modular Pack -> Prefabs -> Corridors and just drag the Corridor_X into my Hierarchy.

Generally speaking if you don't know how, or don't wish to edit the materials, textures, or models a Prefab or Pre-Fabricated model is the way to go.

Now I'm going to repeat this for 4 Corridor_T and 4 Corridor_L.

It should look something like this:

Obviously we don't want all our corridors to be inside each other, so let's move them into position.

We could do this using the arrows, but we could also use the Transform within the Inspector on the right.

For now, I'm going to hide the other parts by selecting them all and clicking the check mark next to their name in the Inspector to the upper right. This will just make it easier to see what I'm doing.

By clicking and dragging the blue arrow after selecting Corridor_T in the Hierarchy I'm able to see that a number around Z = 12 seems to be right for the spacing, so I will go ahead and use the Transform under the Inspector to place this part at Z = 12:

Doing this for each of the Corridors I can create a complete room this way.

Except of course by just putting the T corridor on the other side won't position it correctly for our player to walk through it, so I'll need to use the Transform or Rotation tool. In this case I'm going to use the Rotation under the Transform:

By selecting the Rotation tool I can see that the Y (or Green) axis is the one I'll want to rotate on. So I'll go ahead and set the Y rotation to -180, and the Z Position value to -12.

Once we have all our T corridors in place we can use this same system to position our L corridors in place, resulting in a small room:

Of course this is far from a completed map, hell it's far from an interesting room. So let's use some of the other parts in the prefab folder such as decorative elements and lights to make the place look nice.

We have plenty of room to work with in here but I'm just throwing something together to give an example so let's just go with some random stuff...

Okay now we're getting somewhere.

Now thanks to the VRChat Creator Companion having a lot of built in features I can go ahead and just click play to give this a go and see how it all looks in play; for base Unity you'll likely need to grab a First Person camera or controller of some kind; they're all over the Unity Asset Shop just search for First Person Controller and set the price to free:

Then just import it into your project and drop it into your hierarchy somewhere.

Now you should be able to walk around the corridor you made:

It's really that easy, and this is beginner stuff; if you are interested in this sort of thing there's a ton of tutorials on Youtube that explain how to do Terrain, textures, materials, even 3D modeling so you can make your own unique stuff instead of using stuff from the asset store.

and you know the best part? I could upload this to VRChat right now, I could just put it live and make a world. All without having to figure out the servers, or battling with the laws of thermodynamics.

You're putting up walls for yourself, stopping yourself from learning the fundamentals of the craft. Don't let yourself be held back by your imaginary fears.

Once you understand how to make a corridor you can begin to expand it into a building, once you understand how to make a building you can put that building on terrain; once you understand how to make terrain you can make entire worlds.

No server farm, or heat problem or whatever can stop you from doing that. Only YOU are stopping yourself.

You're not going to start off perfect, it might not even be good at first!

Check it out; this is the first terrain map I ever made:

Using textures from Mabinogi mind you; I didn't even make my own textures lol. The water? It's just a plane with transparency, it didn't move or anything; you couldn't swim in it.

The mountain range just gets cut off there's nothing more there, the "sand" doesn't submerge into the water smoothly at all. It's all a mess it's pretty bad, but it's SOMETHING.

So I added a skybox because I didn't know how to do that yet;

I expanded the terrain and began working on the parts I didn't like, little by little. This is the seed of a whole world I will create; it all starts here, even though this has NOTHING to do with what I eventually want to create.

Will anyone even visit my world? Does anyone need to? Who knows!

I'm not going to get caught up on the details of server farms and shit when I don't even have a world built yet, I'm not going to hold myself back from TRYING.

now I have moving water, and more space than I know what to do with, so I gotta learn how to make some buildings and decorate the place; I'm working on a fishing system that I'm having to learn how to script in UDON for.

It's not easy, and it's daunting to look at my goals and realize how far away I am. However I'm not asking myself to do everything right this second, I'm asking myself; and I'm asking you to just take the first step towards understanding how to accomplish what you want to.

If you don't actually WANT to do it, then that's fine, it's your life. However if your only reason for not trying is because of server space and thermodynamics and shit that doesn't even matter yet; I'm going to sit here and tell you that it doesn't matter and you don't need to worry about it. Don't go making excuses for yourself, you don't need to create your ideal virtual world if you don't WANT to.

But if you DO want to, just please understand that you CAN.

I'm not saying it will be easy. I'm saying it'll be DOABLE, but only if you're actually willing to TRY, and ultimately NONE OF THIS MATTER IF YOU DON'T WANT TO DO IT.

I'm not going to look down on you if you simply don't actually care.

It's entirely possible that I'm reading too much into this, maybe you just have this idea as some kind of fantastical concept but you have no real desire to make it a reality. Then that's fine! There's no shame in that, there's no problem with that. If that's the case and I've blown this out of proportion I am truly sorry.

However I say all of this because I know all too well what it feels like to want to create something, and to dream way too big way too fast; to think it's not possible without something you don't actually need, and to not even know where or how to start.

I don't want to just sit here and let someone give up on accomplishing something they genuinely want to do; all because they're worried about problems that don't ACTUALLY matter for what they want.

Now sure I get it, you likely want to do your own server hosting, you likely want to run it all yourself. I get that; but the reality of the matter is you gotta start small and build up, no one just pops into existence with a giant project and gets millions of people playing their game or exploring their world or whatever. The average person can't just buy up the server space and memory necessary for it.

However the problems you're talking about and the solutions you're proposing to fix them feel like someone talking from a Sci-Fi RP account. They're not realistic at all. You simply don't need to worry about them, and if they're truly the things holding you back then you really shouldn't let them.

Start small, start somewhere; secure funding for your project when the users who do see your work decide it's worth funding. Move on from there, hire a team; work your way up to owning a proper game company, develop the tools to make it happen.

But none of that will happen if you don't start somewhere, you know?

There's no shame in starting small, there's nothing wrong with creating something just to create it; even if it's not your million dollar idea.

If you really have your doubts, check out Scott Cawthon. Yes, THAT Scott Cawthon. Sure you likely know about FNAF, but you may or may not be aware of his entire catalogue of other works.

The guy was making games and animations nearly 10 years before ever making the original FNAF. This list doesn't even include everything he made.

What I'm saying is, if he worried about making games like FNAF when he was making bible animations he likely wouldn't have ever made FNAF OR any of his animations or other games. He likely would have just given up because the idea of making something so big it would get movies and be something people refer to as "famous" likely would have been extremely daunting.

If you start working on stuff now, you really COULD create what you want to. You could improve over the years, get better at your craft; and find ways to make your vision into a reality.

You just have to understand where to take the first step and stop focusing on problems that don't exist for you.

Anyways I've rambled on enough that I'm probably repeating myself for the fifth time already so I'll shut up and leave it at that.

Once again, I do mean it when I say I wish you the best of luck bringing your vision to life.

#Authors Note: Do not read this as anger; I am passionate about this yes but I mean no ill will #I am not speaking from a place of mockery or belittlement #I mean only to explain what I'm saying so please don't take what I say harshly #I don't intend for it to be rude

[tteokdoroki]

baby, you’re tiny | k.bakugou.

⇝ pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.

⇝ word count: 2.3K

⇝ rating: mature, 18+.

⇝ genre: first time!au, smut.

⇝ summary: there were many things katsuki loved about his girlfriend, the main being how tiny she was compared to him; more specifically, how tiny she looked when they were in the bedroom.

⇝ warning(s): please read ! heavy smut, pwp ( characters aged up to 18 ), size!kink, protected sex, fingering ( female recieving ), virginity loss, sub!reader + dom!bakugou,spitting?? y’all idk its just smut ok!! katsuki is soft <33

⇝ author’s note(s): hello hello hello!! it’s been a while since i posted my lastr request so i hope you enjoy this!! this was a request by anon, apologies for the delay. also :( my blog has grown so much so i want to thank you all for 1K, ilysm <3

⇝ masterlist | requests

you were tiny.

and if there was one thing katsuki bakugou loved most about you, his girlfriend, his how tiny you were.

at least compared to him.

most of class A had been shocked when you started dating at the start of second year; since in first year, all katsuki had done was pick on you for your height ( or lack thereof ) and nag you for your quirk— lullaby hadn’t been quite so powerful back then. but your fondness for him grew that summer, having spent time with he and eijirou over the break.

bakugou was sweet when he wanted to be, soft and attentive to you and you only. his teasing gradually let up, turning into sweet gestures or whispered praises and then finally stolen kisses under the night sky.

that’s what lead you both to date, in the end; but everyone supported you nonetheless. it was quite funny to see the great katsuki bakugou help fix your uniform in the morning or make you breakfast in the dorms and even if he yelled at the others for mentioning it— he loved the weight of your barely-there palm in his and the way you pouted up him with faux anger when he rested his elbow on your head.

you were short enough for him to tower over you and twirl you in his arms, small enough to look like you drowning in his hoodies that he gave you. even if he stopped mocking you for your height, over a year ago— even now, in your third year he still loved it.

you were so tiny and he loved it.

he especially loved the way you looked under him right now.

“ka-katsuki-!”

your moan fills his ears, overloading each one of his senses and he thinks it’s the prettiest sound he’s ever heard in his life. pulling his fingers from your slick heat, bakugou’s eyes stay trained on yours as he brings them up to his lips and sucks the remainders of your orgasm away. he lives for the way your face twists with a fresh wave of pleasure and your eyes plead him for more through the dimmed light of his dorm room.

he pinches your thighs, the ones that quiver from your second release of the night, and leans above you to pry your arm away from your heated face. “feel good, sweetheart?” the blonde asks softly, now that he can see you, fingers weaving between your bodies to draw shapes into your swollen clit. you nod once and screw your eyes shut, bare chest arching into katsuki’s at his simple touch. “need another?”

peeking up at him, your boyfriend can see the internal debate dancing in your lust filled eyes. bakugou had fingered you twice to orgasm already and asked if you needed another only to prepare you. for weeks now; you’d both entertained the idea of being one another’s first’s— of course you’d done more than just makeouts and heavy petting but after a year of dating, you finally wanted to be together as one ( bakugou’s words not your own ).

finally, you answer him with a soft ‘no, think i’m ready now,’ and the hot headed boy can barely contain his excitement. he presses a searing kiss to your lips— tongues sliding together while bakugou swallows your helpless whimpers from where you taste yourself on him. your own hand slips between you both now, curling around your boyfriend’s hardening length to palm him.

meanwhile, with a breathless groan, katsuki’s lips slip down to suck love bites into the column of your throat, but only gently. he knows you hate marks but’ll get a kick out of the others fawning over them the next day. the speed of your hand picks up, jerking him off as if for revenge— you knew how easy bakugou could come undone with just your touch and he revels in the way your tiny hands wrap around his thick girth, barely grazing the circumference of it.

just like how you could barely fit his cock in your mouth when you sucked him off—

“baby— fuck,” the blonde’s breath stutters, mind becoming foggy with thoughts of your lips on his girth egging him on.  he should stop you before he cums; stop himself from rutting into your small fingers and the thumb that brushes over the glands on his head. bakugou doesn’t want to cum before he’s got a chance to take you for the first time— even if he’d given you plenty of chances to. “slow down little bear, gotta fuck you before— before i cum…”

you grin at him from behind the warmth beneath your skin. “then get to it, katsu…”

the explosive third year gives you one last pinch to your clit and leans back on his thighs ever so slightly to reach for a condom. he quickly rolls it on, tapping his latex covered length against your dripping entrance as he prepares to make you his. you squirm underneath bakugou, fingers reaching up to weave their way into his blonde glossed hair— yanking him closer to you while he finally makes an effort to push into your needy heat.

crimson gaze fluttering down, katsuki looks to where your bodies begin to become joined, your tiny cunt fluttering around the head of his cock as he slides himself inside of you. he feels thick drool pool on his tongue at the very sight, he’s not even half the way in and your gushing pussy is already struggling to take his cock. “would’ya look at that little one,” his words are slurred around the saliva building up in his mouth. you’re so fucking small it’s driving him insane. you follow your boyfriend’s gaze, spasming at how he begins to stretch you out. “seems like your little pussy’s too tight, too small to take your man’s fat cock, huh?”

a strangled whimper sounds in the back of your throat, making katsuki smirk as he taps your cheek with a freehand. he feels a sense of pride lurch in his, how good it feels to be so big that his pretty little princess can’t take him all but he wants a verbal answer from you, wants to hear you struggle just like your glistening heat does.

“yes, ’s too small…” you sigh, chewing on your bottom lip as you meat his eye again—moving to wrap your thighs around his waist.

“should i fuck you open, baby?” you moan lowly at his words, hips bucking up and pussy clenching around his girth involuntarily. “yeah? your greedy little cunt likes the sounda that…” bakugou tries again, leaning over you as he slowly drives his hips forward to push more of his cock into you.

his head drops to your neck, puffs of his breath warm against your skin while he uses all of his willpower to hold back. katsuki knows he’s big, that he can make you feel good because of it too, but he doesn’t want to hurt you. he never wants to. when his dribbling length is half plunged inside you, the ash blonde’s fingers drop to your clit once more— soothing the burn of his weighty dick to help you suck in more of him.

your head thrashes in the sheets while he whispers praises against your bruised and bitten flesh. “you can take it baby, i know you can…”

and you do.

the pair of you groan in unison once katsuki is fully sheathed inside of you, twitching at the feeling of your soft velvety walls finally engulfing him. you can feel the leaking head of his cock prodding at your cervix, stimulating you without your boyfriend having to even move and sending shivers down your spine.

“p-please, katsuki…move.” you growl hungrily, pulling him down to smack a wet, passionate kiss against his awaiting lips. although your teeth and tongue clash messily in your liplock, bakugou doesn’t need to be told twice, drawing back his hips from the comfort of your warmth to thrust into you. the pace is slow at first, sensual grinds against each other as he stretches you out, moulding your walls into the shape of his cock.

it’s not until bakugou’s hips reach a certain angle, prodding against your sweet spot that things take a turn. a high pitched squeal dances through the room, mingling with the sound of your lover’s harsh thrusts as he claims your insides over and over. he revels in the way you suck him in and squeeze around him, painting his cock with your sweet nectar and earlier releases. “taking me so fucking well little one,” bakugou spits out through gritted teeth, barely hanging onto his last thread of sanity, the way you look right now, so flustered and messy with arousal almost pushing him over the edge. “look at you taking such a big fat cock in this tiny fucking hole, you love how big i am don’t you?”

you can barely form an answer when your eyes are rolling to the back of your head at the sheer amount of pleasure, incoherent babbles filling the little space between you both, only urging katsuki on. he already knows how much you love the size difference between you. outside of the bedroom, bakugou uses his height to tease you— putting things on the top shelf to watch you struggle to reach them but inside; he’s absolutely relentless.

he knows you adore the way he uses his larger size to dominate you, stuff your mouth full of his cock or fingers and he adores the way you take him contentedly no matter what.

“mmf— fuck, right there katsuki, feels so good!” you sigh, eyes still closed but your tongue now lolls out of your mouth— creating the perfect lewd picture that your lover will commit to memory. while his large hands sear bruises into your hips he holds still, a free hand comes up to pull down your bottom lip before he spits sweetly into your open mouth. your eyes slowly open to look at him, locking on his ruby stare as you blissfully smile up at him. katsuki swears he almost creams on the spot. “thank you katsu…”

“that’s fuckin’ right princess, thank me for my spit. thank me for making you feel good.” bakugou’s guttural moans dip into low growls, his pace picking up as your iron hot cunt clamps down on him which causes the head of his cock to drag against the spongy spot inside of you— making you see stars and your hips jump to meet the blonde’s erratic thrusts.

hot slick gushes down the your thighs from the sinful way he moves and absused your tightness, evidence of your arousals shining under the moon that slips through his drawn curtains. you can feel his balls slap feverntly against your ass that katsuki spreads apart to plow into you, latex covered length going as far to brush against your womb. each grind, each thrust has your moans rising an octave to the point where your lover has his hands clamped over your mouth to keep you from being too loud.

bakugou sits back on his haunches, pulling you up into his chest with him. you rest weakly in his lap as the explosive boy angles his thrusts upwards and straight into your oozing heat. a broken whimper breaks free from his lips as katsuki catches sight of the slight tummy bulge his fat cock gives you and you see it too, your own whines mingling with his to form a lovers tune.

he knows you’re close by the way you suddenly become tighter and he fucks into you, deeper, harder, faster.

“close katsu, ‘m getting close…” you slur into his shoulder, biting at his skin to keep control of your hazy, lust filled mind. you paint love bites in shades of blues and indigos across the canvas of his shoulders and neck while katsuki uses his pure strength to lift you up and down onto his cock. he groans every time your heat welcomes him again, drawing you closer and closer to the edge. your nails dig into his back, forming sweet creasent moons and making him moan loudly. “gimme it little one, gimme your fuckin’ cum, gonna cream on my cock? yeah? oh fuck yeah…”

his lewd words are what push you off the edge, the coil of desire that had been building up inside you finally snapping. your third release of the night gushes all over your lover’s thick girth, which he still pushes into you, helping you ride out your high. black spots paint your vision as you cum, cunt clamping down on bakugou while he chases his own release.

“cum for me bakugou, please…” you breath gently against his skin, pressing small kisses over his sore love bites. “love you so much, please…”

that’s all he needs to hear from you before spilling his seed into the condom with a shout, twitching as he collapses onto the soiled sheets of his bed with you. the pair of you lay together, still locked together  while bakugou calms down from his high in slow grinds, fingers searching for yours to intertwine your tiny hands with his. “love you more dumbass,” he says eventually, smile on his face betraying him against the harsh petname.

you smile at him even as he pulls away to throw away the condom, returning with a wash cloth to clean you both up. “not true, katsuki, i love you most!” you exclaim, tail end of your words falling into a stream of giggles as bakugou presses a flurry of kisses to your face. “with every inch of my body!”

“must not be a lotta love then, y’know, since you’re so fuckin’ tiny.” the blonde hums into your hands  when they reach up to cup his face lovingly.

you huff and pinch his cheek after that, calling him a meanie.

but katsuki bakugou doesn’t care, he’ll always love you, no matter how tiny you are.

#tteokdoroki #bnha #mha #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha fanfic #bnha smut #mha x reader #mha x you #mha imagines #mha smut #mha fanfic #bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou smut #bakugou fluff #bakugou imagine #bakugou headcanons #bakugou fanfiction #bakugou angst #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x you #katsuki bakugou smut #katsuki bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x you #bakugou katsuki smut

[cazimagines]

Try not to forget me

Synopsis: Anon request: Can we have a reader who slept with Zemo when they were younger, they were basically each other’s first times. Reader was brought to the mission and when Sam mentions Zemo she only limits herself to saying that she knows him assuming she knows him from civil war. At some point, Zemo mentions it to Sam and since he can’t contain himself he has to ask reader to be sure. Maybe some smut, like ‘I don’t remember you being this good’

Word count: 8.5k

Author’s note: Welp it took me a while but it's finally here! I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I am such a sucker for the trope of seeing someone you once dated years after not seeing them again. Like give me all of that. Also I changed a little bit of the request but not much.

Warnings: Gun shots, SMUT (for mature audiences), Fingering, Vaginal sex, Stripping

Masterlist

(Please check out my master list to see what I will be writing next and if requests are open or closed)

Cross-posted to ao3 under the same username

Fingers fumbled with the clasp, the feeling of lips trailing up your thigh, sweet whispers in the air,

‘My princess, my everything’

His kisses on your neck, the desperation in his voice

‘I need you, all of you’

His fingers dug into your hips, his body moving like waves on top of you.

You call out his name to the night, losing yourself in the passion that consumed you.

Your hand tangled in his hair, tugging roughly which elicited a moan from his lips.

His eyes sparkled as he reached his first climax with you, ‘You’ll always be mine’

You woke up still with the taste of his lips upon your mouth. You felt the ghost of him linger on top of you, clinging to that long-ago memory.

But all things fade with time and the cold reality pulled you from the once pleasant dream drenched in sorrow. Sighing you pulled yourself off the made-up bed on the floor, already grabbing a hair tie to pull the bird’s nest of your hair out of your face. You hop over to where your prosthetic leg laid and strapped it onto your thigh.

Grabbing your phone you notice a few miss call from an old friend, calls you must have slept through. Pressing the number you hold it up to your ear as you wander around the apartment preparing for your day.

On the third ring, he picked up.

“Sam?” you ask

“Y/n! I wasn’t sure if I would hear back from you, it’s been a while”

“Yeah, things have been keeping me busy. It’s not like how it was when we were in the army”

You could hear him chuckle down the line, “It’s strange, I would have thought my time in the army would have been the craziest part of my life, but it’s hard to beat all the stories I have of aliens”

“At least you have stories to tell, what do I have? I served for a few years as a new American citizen, almost died a few times till one day I got shot in the leg”

“I don’t know losing your leg is one hell of a story, but speaking of almost losing your life. You remember that time I was able to pull you away from a landmine and you told me, ‘oh Sam thank you so much, I owe you so much’” Sam says down the line in a squeaky voice

“Since when have I ever spoken like that Sam? And why do I have a feeling I’m not going to like where this is going”

“Well that’s because it is time for me to cash in that favour”

That’s how you found yourself arriving at an airport, searching around to find Sam. As you walked around the corner you could make out what seemed to be three figures in the distance. As you got nearer one of them noticed you, and started waving exaggeratingly making you chuckle.

You finally reach him as Sam pulls you into a firm hug. “It’s good to see you again y/n,” he says as you pull away.

“Yes, after all these years of avoiding me” you quip making him laugh

“You know I’d never avoid you! It’s you who has always found an excuse to get out of meeting up with old friends”

“Well I’m here now”

“Speaking of old friends, let me introduce to you this man, 106 years old, dermatologists hate him”

The man Sam referred to now stepped forward, holding out his hand, “Hi, I’m Bucky” he says, smiling slightly as you shake his hand.

“Y/n, you look good for your age”

“He moisturises” Sam buts in making Bucky send him a look, “It’s complicated” he mutters and you nod.

“I met Steve once, I understand,” you tell him, making his eyes light up at the mention of his old friend.

“Super soldier serum, the ability to be almost immortal, another reason as to why we have all gathered here to prevent it”

A shiver ran through your spine as you heard that long ago accent which you had removed from your voice. You focus on the man behind Sam, someone you should have noticed when you first appeared.

It had been over twenty years since you had last seen him yet you could still recognise the way his lips twitched up at the sides but dipped in the middle, the softness of his warm brown eyes, and the slight angular twist his eyebrows had. His hair was more well kept than when you had last seen him. Then he was still going through his rebellious phase, letting his hair grow unkempt but now he had a sense of refinement about him. He knew he was ageing like fine wine and now instead of trying to rebel from the prestigious life he had like when you knew him, he lavished in it, enjoying the money that was of so easy access to him and spent it on all the finer luxuries of life.

“Y/n, this is Zemo. You might remember seeing him on the news, he’s the one who framed Bucky”

You knew him more than that, more than any of them could ever know him. The dream from this morning swarmed your thoughts again, taunting you as if your brain knew what was to come.

Sokovia had been your home country, a place you had longed to forget, leave dead. Zemo, Helmut, was your childhood friend. You couldn’t remember the time when you first met as it felt like he had always been in your life. Everything you two did, you did together. Attending the same schools, going around to each other’s houses, exploring the wildness together. You two were closer than siblings. Your family had nowhere as near the same money as Zemo’s family had, yet that didn’t seem to matter, at least not when you were children. It was no surprise to people when eventually you two started dating. There had been bets on how long it would take for Zemo to gather the courage to ask you out. You and Zemo had been each other’s firsts, first partner, first kiss, first making love, which is where your dream had come from. It was cringy to say it but you felt like you loved him with every inch of your soul, and you knew Zemo was just as dedicated to you.

That’s why the break-up was so messy.

You were the one who called it. You had to. Zemo might have been blind to what it meant to be a Baron at that time but you weren’t. His parents allowed him to have his little indulges, allowed you two to be friends, to date. But at the end of the day, he would always be from the higher class and your family from the lower class. They would of never let you two marry so you had to call off the relationship before you got too deep, to save yourself some pain. You’d hoped that you two could still be friends, though it would have hurt, you still wanted to be around him but that was never meant to be.

At first, he didn’t believe you, he laughed it off as a good joke till he realised you were being serious. Then was the confusion, he wouldn’t let you leave. He needed to know what he did wrong, what could have happened for you to want to break up with him. Then was the obsession. He wouldn’t leave you alone, turning up to your house every day to beg for another chance, following you around trying to pick the relationship back up, threatening any guy that went near you. Then the heartbreak when he finally accepted it was over. He didn’t leave his house for months, you heard rumours he drank himself to sleep most nights, till one time at the dead of the night you found him pounding on your door, shouting to let him in. He was pissed and crying, imploring at you to give him a second chance, begging for you to tell him what he could do to get back with you. He would do anything, give you all his money, abandon his family and run away with you. You helped him back home and told him to leave you alone. And to give it to him he did because then came the anger. You would see him outside and he would pretend he didn’t even know who you were. You’d walk past and accidentally hit shoulders and he shouted at you to watch where you were going. Soon he would be seen with lots of different women, taking them to all the places he took you, dancing at parties. Whenever you looked over to them they were making out and it pained you deeply for what you had to give up. Eventually, you ran away. You couldn’t keep torturing yourself seeing Zemo move on with someone else while you were still suffering on the inside, not just for losing the boy you love but the person who had been your best friend for as long as you could remember.

You left Sokovia to live in America, completely ridding yourself of your whole past identity. There you decided to enlist in the Army which is where you had met Sam, served with him for a few years till you were forced to retire early due to losing your leg. You checked up on Zemo every once in a while, it wasn’t too hard with the Sokovian news constantly obsessing over him. He married the woman he moved onto, the one you always saw making out with him. You suppose he truly must have loved her because it was your birthday when his son was born. While he celebrated the happiest day of his life you spent the day at the bottom of a bottle drinking away the loneliness. You still remember the moment you found out what had happened to Sokovia. You hadn’t been back there in years but it was still your home, where you had all of your fond memories, now all gone.

You didn’t see anything in the news about Zemo after that, he and his family completely vanished so you had to assume the worst. Till you finally saw him on the news. It was hardly like the boy you once knew. The Zemo you knew was kind, empathetic, caring, beautiful in every way he could be yet the man you saw there was a murderer, cold-hearted, reckless. What had happened to the boy you once knew?

You could make guesses, his family was nowhere in sight and you could only imagine how losing the woman you love and your child could hurt you. You hated imagining all the pain Zemo has gone through.

“Yes, I remember seeing him on the news,” you tell Sam. Both you and Zemo stared at each other, your eyes unwavering.

He knew who you were. He knew from the moment you turned around that corner. As he watched you warmly greet Sam and shake hands with Bucky. He watched the person he never thought he would see again stand right in front of him, not even noticing him.

But now you stood there, staring him down. Both of you almost speaking through your eyes. Would the other one bring up the past? Try to acknowledge all that has happened between you or is that dead, left forgotten. Will you two pretend to have never met before, letting years of memories fade.

Zemo was first to speak.

“I see my reputation isn’t too favourable”

“That’s what you get for blowing up the UN,” you say scowling at him as you cross your arms

Zemo opens his mouth to say something but Sam gets here first, “Y/n served in the Army with me so you better be careful with what you say Zemo”

Zemo’s eyes then flicker back to you tilting his head, like he always used to do, in interest.

“Why is he even here?” you ask, finally pulling your eyes away from him to Sam and Bucky

Sam turns to Bucky with a plastered on a fake smile, “Why don’t you explain Bucky”

Bucky sighs as he glances over to you, “As Sam mentioned to you on the call we are trying to track down this group of super-soldiers called the Flag Smashers. We need Zemo here to help us track down where they got the serum and help us so no one else becomes a super-soldier”

“And you trust him?” you scoff, glaring back to Zemo who just smirked at you

“We have no other choice” Bucky mutters, scowling over at Zemo

“I can assure you, I won’t do anything to betray your trust. For once all of our goals are aligned that it would do us no good to go against each other.”

“I’ll hold judgment till later,” you reply bitterly.

Swifty Zemo swings on the heels of his feet, turning around to start walking away, obviously expecting all of you to follow him. Sighing in annoyance you trail after him.

As you had predicted both you and Zemo were pretending to not know each other, perhaps for the sake of the mission or perhaps for the sake of your well beings. You’re not sure if you could cope even acknowledging the past you two had. He’d been the person you had been closest to, someone you shared all your secrets, all your thoughts and feelings with. Someone who you would have taken a bullet for in the blink of an eye and to suddenly lose all of that, it wrecked you. You had finally managed to build yourself up again, to try and move on and then he comes straight back into your life. It’s as if there is some strange omnipotent god up there and it loved to torment every waking moment of your life.

“So all this time you’ve been rich?” Sam asks and you all catch up with Zemo and see him walking towards what you assumed was his private aeroplane.

“I’m a Baron, Sam, my family was royalty till your friends blew up my country”

There was a slight change of tone for when he said ‘my’ not enough for Sam and Bucky to pay attention to it but enough for you to feel the slight twist in your heart as you thought back to the country that used to be yours, long ago.

As you got closer you observed a man standing by the plane, ready to welcome Zemo aboard and you felt your heart stop for a moment. Oeznik. The man had aged since you last saw him, he had fallen to the tolling of time but he still had those warm, caring eyes.

Memories swept over you of your childhood as you observed him. He has always been Zemo’s assistant, hired by Zemo’s parents when they were much younger. You could remember times when you and Zemo would be running down the corridors, not where you were supposed to be and Oeznik would find you two, not telling you off but smiling at you two, saying how Zemo’s parents were looking for him. He would sneak you two Turkish delights even if it was only an hour before dinner. Anywhere you two wanted to go he would drive you there. Whenever you slept over he would prepare your favourite meals, making sure everything was just how you liked in the room you would stay in. He was almost like another father figure to you and Zemo.

And now there he was, greeting Zemo. Zemo kissed him on the cheeks fondly before heading inside. Sam and Bucky both follow up but you take a moment to turn to look at him.

“Oeznik” you whisper

He smiles warmly down at you, placing his hand on the side of your arm. “It’s good to see you again madam”

You nod your head, unable to say anymore without letting your emotions get the better of you so you choose to head inside.

You could feel his eyes on you as you enter. You glance up to him and you know he knows why you took a little longer to get onto the plane. It was that knowing look in his eye, the slight twinkle of amusement but also sadness.

You frown realising you’d have to take a seat opposite Zemo, Sam and Bucky already choosing to sit on the other side, showing their dislike for him. You freeze for just a moment making Zemo gesture to the seat in front of him, smirking as he tilts his head. You huff, not bothering to hide your displeasure, taking the seat in front of him but refusing to even look at him.

A few minutes later Zemo chuckles as Oeznik brings out two drinks, a glass of champagne which he offers to Zemo, and a glass of rum which he offers to you. You’re favourite drink. After all this time he still remembered.

You kindly thanked Oeznik, taking the glass as you avoid the confused eyes of Sam who was wondering why you got a drink and he didn’t and the eyes of Zemo, which held an emotion you couldn’t quite recognise.

“The food is out but I will see if there is some good food in a gallery,” he tells Zemo and starts to turn away but then Zemo speaks.

“If it doesn’t pass the food test, give it to them,” he says, speaking in sokovian and gesturing to Sam and Bucky.

You weren’t prepared for the surge of pain in your heart as you heard Zemo use the language of your people. Though it had been over twenty years since you last heard it, you could still remember it perfectly.

Oeznik laughs, “It’s good to have you back sir,” he says, then nods to you before leaving again. Zemo smiles at Sam and Bucky, enjoying the notion of how they didn’t know what he said, before his eyes swiftly turn back to you, knowing you know exactly what he said.

He takes a swing of his drink before speaking again, “It’s kind of him to remember your go-to drink” he says in Sokovian.

And there it was. The first acknowledgement of the past between you two. Your eyes burn into his head as you realise just what he was doing. It was a test. He spoke in Sokovian for just you to understand, seeing if you were to take the bait and talk back in Sokovian. He wanted to see if you were willing to acknowledge the past between you two as well.

But Sam and Bucky had no idea where you were from. As far as they knew from your accent you were American and you planned to keep that secret. You weren’t going to play in Zemo’s little game, you refused to take your turn. Instead, ignoring what he had said to stare at the ground.

He waits for a few moments before accepting you weren’t going to reply. Sighing he turns to Sam and Bucky.

“You don’t know what it’s like to be locked in a cell” he starts “Oh, that’s right, you do” he then carries on, taunting them. If he can’t mess with you then he’ll mess with them.

“Why don’t you tell us about where you are going” Sam replies, ignoring Zemo’s attempt at taunting.

Zemo then instead turns to the book in his hand, thumbing through it. “Sorry, I was just fascinated by this. I don’t know what to call it but this part seems to be important. Who is Nakajima?” he asks turning to Bucky

Instantly Bucky was out of his seat, his hand around Zemo’s throat pulling him back as he leans in towards his face.

“If you touch that again, I’ll kill you” he whispers

Zemo nods as Bucky lets him go, letting out a slight breath he had been holding in. Bucky glares as Zemo has he takes his seat again.

“I’m sorry. I understand that list of names. People you’ve wronged as the Winter Soldier.”

“But you’re not sorry” you abruptly say, making all eyes turn to you. “Ever since we’ve sat down you’ve been taunting us, trying to stir up trouble. Soon your annoyance will outweigh any use you have for us”

“I’m sorry if I have caused you any offence, Princess, it is never my intention to upset any of you”

But it was. It fucking was. Because he knew just how much pain that nickname brought to your heart. Princess. That’s what he had always referred to you as when you dated. In his eyes, you were a princess, his princess. You clench your jaw, trying to stop the tears that swelled in your eyes. Something Zemo picked up on and himself felt pained seeing your reaction.

“Don’t call her Princess. Her name is y/n” Sam says, glaring at Zemo.

“My apologies, it was my fault to refer to your girl like that”

Instantly both yours and Sam’s eyes widen at his words.

“We’re not, that’s not-” Sam starts to say, fumbling with his words

“We’re just friends” you but in, glaring at Zemo for you knew why he said that.

“Y-yeah” Sam replies, looking between you and Zemo as you stare at each other. Zemo tilts his head slightly, the edge of his lips twitching up.

“I see”

“Now perhaps you could stop taunting us, Zemo, and answer Sam’s original question about where the hell we are going”

If you had blinked you would have missed it but just for a split second, as his last name fell from your lips, you could see him flinch. These days everyone referred to him by his last name, never his first name. And although in the past you had always called him by his first name, you, like them, were using his last name. That hurt more than he thought it would.

“I’m afraid I can’t say just yet, but all will be relieved in due time’

You just groan, rolling your eyes and then choosing to stare out the window trying to forget all about the man that sat in front of you.

Hoping to alleviate the conversation Sam nods to the book Bucky took back from Zemo.

“I’ve seen that book, it’s Steve’s book for when he came out of the ice. I told him about trouble man. He wrote it in that book. Did you hear it? What did you think?”

“I like 40’s music so…” Bucky grumpily replies

“You didn’t like it!?” Sam exclaims leaning forward

“I liked it”

“It’s a masterpiece James. Complete. Comprehensive. It captures the African American experience” Zemo buts in, speaking with his hands as he looks over to Bucky

Sams’s eyes face moves from looking at Bucky, to looking at Zemo then back to Bucky.

“He’s out of line, but he’s right. It’s great. Everybody likes Marvin Gaye”

Inside your head, you scoff at Zemo as he talked as if he was sophisticated with music, ‘like you didn’t listen to Nirvana all the time’ you thought. From that point you ignored what they were saying, sipping your drink as you stare out the window. Today had taken a complete turn from what you ever could have imagined it would have turned out to be. And little did you know it was about to get a whole lot messier.

-

“No fucking way. You can’t make me do that”

“You have to if you want to blend in for the mission” Zemo explains

“She can blend in, in many other ways, she doesn’t have to pretend to be your partner,” Sam says arguing for you

“They will be suspicious of her though and it could risk the whole mission but if she was my partner they wouldn’t be suspicious”

“He’s right y/n” Bucky adds, “I don’t want to be doing this either but if we want to find out where the super-soldier serum has come from we need to”

Zemo nods to Bucky in thanks and then looks to you, the corner of his lip twitching up in amusement that Bucky was backing him up and seeing your anger.

He was deliberately trying to antagonise you. Making you pretend to be his partner for the mission, was his way to get back at you for the pain you caused him when you broke things off. You didn’t think you could cope with having to pretend to be his partner for it, it would just bring up all the pain of what had been lost between you two, what you had to let go of. But they were right. You had to do it for the sake of the mission. If Bucky could pretend to the winter soldier again for the mission the least you could do was this.

“Are you seriously taking his side Bucky, if she doesn’t want to be that then-” Sam starts to argue but you cut him off.

“It’s okay Sam, Bucky’s right I need to do it”

Sam opens his mouth in surprise and then moves over to stand in front of you, placing his hand on your shoulder. “No you don’t y/n, don’t listen to them”

You place your hand over Sam’s hand on your shoulder, rubbing it slightly. “I’ll be okay with it Sam. It’s not like I’d be dating him”

Your eyes flicker to Zemo who had been glaring at Sam now turned his eyes to you, his lips almost twitching into a frown but he stops them.

“I won’t wear that dress though,” you say, your eyes looking down to the short dress Zemo held in his arms.

He opens his mouth to argue against that as well but you stop him, “No Zemo, I won’t be wearing that, that is final”

He bites back his words, smacking his lips together as he nods, “If that is what you wish”

You weren’t ashamed of your prosthetic leg. It was a reminder to you for all you had given to people. But you weren’t about to walk around Madripoor with it being showed off to everyone. And a part of you wasn’t ready for Zemo to see you with it, though you don’t know why.

You hadn’t been to Madripoor before but it didn’t surprise you that Zemo knew the place well. It looked like the shady place you would find him in. As soon as you stepped out of the car Zemo’s arm wrapped around your waist. It fitted like nothing had changed in the time between. Your face instantly turned to him to tell him to let go but he held his finger up to your lips to stop you, “For appearance y/n, you are after all, for this evening, my partner”

Begrudgingly you accept it and don’t try to move his arm away as you walk together. Sam walks up beside you and as you turn to look at him he rolls his eyes. You chuckle at Sam then felt Zemo’s grip on your waist tighten.

As you walk into the bar Zemo takes a seat on the stool. You glance around but all the other seats had been taken. Smirking Zemo pats his lap, “Hop on princess”

You grasp onto his shoulder, pinching it harshly to cause him some pain as you position yourself on his lap, but he just chuckles at your reaction, his hand instantly going to rest on your tigh which was thankfully covered by your trousers.

“Don’t call me princess” you whisper angrily to him

He leans forward, his lips by your ear as you feel his breath, “We have to make it realistic princess, plus I think that would be the sought of a nickname I would give you if we were dating”

He presses a lip to your cheek as he pulls back from you, chuckling as he sees how your cheeks heat up and the glare you grace him with.

“Hello gentlemen and lady,” the barman says finally coming over to you, “I wasn’t expecting the smiling tiger”

“His plans changed, we have a business to do, with Selby,” Zemo says, trying to take over all conversation so no one gave themselves away.

“And she does as well?” he asks, nodding to you

“Anywhere I go she goes with me” Zemo replies, chuckling as he looks at you with a smile on his lips

“Isn’t that right princess?”

You try your best to push back the anger you felt, instead, forcing a smile as you look back at Zemo, “Of course my love” you tell him then leans forward to place a quick peck on his lips.

As your lips lightly brush against his you could hear the slight hitch in his breath and as you lean your head on his chest you wonder if he could feel how fast your heart was beating in your chest.

It’s just for appearances, that’s all you tell yourself but even though it was brief you could still feel the warmth of his lips on yours, that comforting feeling that you hadn’t felt in so long and it was as if all the buried emotions you had come flooding back. Here you were sitting on his lap, kissing him as if nothing had changed and for a moment you wondered if that could be the case. Could you two go back to what time was like before?

But you couldn’t. Not only was it down to the fact that Zemo was a wanted criminal, but he had moved on from you. He fell in love with another, he married her. Any feelings he had for you were long gone and this was just him messing with you, and you didn’t want to let him know the feelings you still had for him after all this time.

The barman seems to accept your display though, choosing to focus on Sam instead as he makes him his ‘usual’ drink.

Zemo orders you and him a drink which you thankfully take from his hand, hoping to drown your feelings away with the alcohol.

A man comes up behind you and instantly Zemo lifted you off your lap, pushing you behind him as he stands up to face the man.

“Got word from on high, you’re not welcomed here,” he tells Zemo,

“Hm” Zemo replies, nodding as he takes the man’s words, “I have no business with the power broker, but if he insists he can either come talk to me...” he finishes, nodding over to Bucky

“Or bring Selby for a chat”

The man leaves as Bucky looks over to Zemo. As Zemo turns around once again his arm wraps around your waist.

“A power broker, really?”

“Every kingdom needs its king. Let’s just pray we stay under his radar”

“Do you know him?” you ask and Zemo looks down at you amused by your question, “Only by reputation”

“In Madripoor he is judge, jury and executioner”

Zemo’s eyes focus now on another man coming towards him. Turning back around to the bar he speaks to Bucky in Russian just as the man places his hand on Zemo’s shoulder. You all turn around to watch as Bucky grabs the man and starts to attack him. You’d seen violence before but it still made you wince knowing how Bucky didn’t want to do this.

After one particular nasty hit without thinking your hand grasps onto his hand, needing something to hold on to. As soon as you realised what you had done you swiftly try to pull your hand back but Zemo holds onto it tight, refusing to let it go. You could feel his gaze turn to you but you choose to ignore his cocky face and instead focus on Bucky.

You stand out of the way as Bucky slams the man onto the table and Zemo leans forward to let Bucky know not to take it too far. That was your ticket though as then you were being shown the way to see Selby.

The meeting itself wasn’t too bad. Zemo held onto your hand as he pulled you over to sit with him. He talked to Selby while you just sat on his lap. Selby didn’t pay any attention to you, which you were thankful for. Things were going smoothly until Sam’s phone ringed.

That’s how you found yourself running along with Bucky, Sam and Zemo avoiding gunfire. As you ran you heard one gunfire and felt your prosthetic leg move slightly as the bullet went straight through it.

Zemo must have seen what happened as well, but not knowing you had a prosthetic leg, he wrapped his arms suddenly around your legs, picking you up bridal style. He ran off to the side, leaving Bucky and Sam behind as he hid you down an alleyway.

“Zemo let go of me!” you hissed, hitting him in the chest as he stopped running. He instead places you on the ground, growling at you not to move as he starts to check all his pockets in his coats. Instead, you do move, getting up off the floor and he looks at you angrily. “I said don’t move! You’ll injure yourself more”

You lean down and jank up slightly the trouser leg, showing the fake metallic leg underneath.

“I’m fine Zemo! It’s fake. Now we need to go and find Sam and Bucky”

But Zemo was frozen, staring down at your leg in shock. Because at that moment was the realisation for him. All this time he had been teasing you, testing the waters of how far he could push you to admit to the past. Messing around with you as if you were two lovesick teenagers again. But you had both changed, and he was refusing to realise that until now. Because he didn’t want to acknowledge the fact you were no longer the woman he once knew. The one person he knew better than himself and he had still half-believed that was the case until now. You had a fake leg, lost in what he assumed was the army which you and Sam had been in. He didn’t know because the truth was you were almost a stranger to him now, and he hated that. He just wanted things to be the way they once were. That’s what he desperately craved but it couldn’t be.

“Okay,” he simply says and nods, finally pulling his gaze away from your leg and up to you. Following your lead, he chases after you to find out where Sam and Bucky had gone.

-

Sam paced around the main room of Sharon’s house. His mind was occupied with so many thoughts it was hard to concentrate but there was one that stuck out like a splinter in a thumb. What the hell was going on between you and Zemo? He wasn’t stupid he could pick up on something, the looks two you gave each other, the tension in the air, the way you reacted when you first saw him. Sam considered himself your best friend, though you two hadn’t seen each other in ages. So it bugged him how this was obviously something big to you, and he didn’t know what it was.

Zemo sat at the table by the side, quietly drinking some whiskey. Both you and Bucky had decided to retire for the night while Sam decided to stay up just so he could find out the truth.

“You look like you are trying to burn a hole through my head by the way you are staring at me Sam” Zemo says, finally looking up from his glass to Sam who was glaring at him.

“Is something the matter?” he asks

“You and y/n. What’s up with that”

Zemo chuckles, looking back down into his glass, “Ah that”

“I’m her best friend, I know everything about her, apart from this apparently”

Zemo’s eyes snapped back to Sam but this time there was no amusement in them, instead a angry glaze as he frowned, “Best friend?” he repeats, standing up and walking over to Sam. “You hardly know her at all”

Sam scoffs as he raises an eyebrow at Zemo attempting to get into his face. “And you do?”

“Yes” Zemo instantly replies, “I know she was born in Novia Grand, Sokovia. Just like me. I know which schools she attended, the same as mine, I know what her favourite meals are, we had them whenever she came round to my house. I know her favourite band, I took her to their first concert. I know everything little thing about her Sam, and you know nothing”

Sam’s eyes widen at Zemo’s confession, realisation dawning on him. “You were childhood friends”

“More than friends Sam, we were lovers. We were the first people we dated, we were each other first kiss, we were each other first time” Zemo claims as if bragging to Sam

“Yet you didn’t know she was in the Army, you didn’t know she had a prosthetic leg did you?” Sam asks and when he sees the slight fall in Zemo’s face he smiles, “You used to know her Zemo, but obviously, you don’t know the person I know now”

-

With a pair of tweezers lent to you from Sharon, you pull your trouser leg up and search around in your prosthetic leg attempting to find the bullet lodged inside and pull it out. You could see the bullet but you couldn’t quite get the right angle to pull it out making you groan in annoyance.

You were about to throw the tweezers across the room in anger when you heard a knock against the door. You were currently sitting in one of Sharon’s guest rooms as lot were staying at Sharon’s place for the night to rest up then go and find the scientist tomorrow morning.

“Y/n?” you hear his voice call out from the other side

You sigh rolling your eyes, “What do you want” you snap

“May I come in? We need to talk”

“I don’t want to talk”

You hear the click of the door and Zemo pushes it open to stare at you in a slight annoyance. His eyes then move down to the tweezers in your hand and your leg. He takes a few steps towards you, his hand out as he closes the door.

“Let me”

You hesitate for a moment but finally, give in and hand him the tweezers. He pulls out a seat beside you and gently puts the tweezers through the hole in your leg.

“How did it happen?” he asks as he concentrates on your leg while at the same time trying to create polite conversation.

“Like most injuries out there. One of the soldiers was on the floor, shot a round of bullets into my leg. The doctor there couldn’t save my leg so I had to get it amputated”

He nods, finally grasping the bullet with the tweezers and started to pull it out. “Serving in the army, it’s admirable. Something very like you. I was in the Sokovian armed forces. EKO scorpion”

You nod as you watch him pull the bullet out and place it to the side. “I remember reading about it in the news”

His eyes, flickering to you, glimmer with amusement. “So you kept track of me?”

Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as he caught you out. You glance away from his intense stare instead to the table. “Did you really expect that I didn’t? You once were my best friend Zemo. It’s hard to let that go. I saw you got married, had a child. I’m sorry about what happened to them”

It was Zemo’s turn to look away now, feeling the pain in his heart ignite as he thinks back to his previous family. “My son, he was born on your birthday”

“I’m surprised you remember my birthday”

He smiles slightly, finally turning his eyes back to yours, “Of course I do. Every year I’d drink a toast to you. You said that I was your best friend and hard to let go of that. Well, it’s the same both ways y/n. I couldn’t just forget about your existence.”

“I had to leave” you whisper

“I know. I know why you left, and I know why you broke up with me in the first place”

Your eyes flash to his in surprise and widen seeing how they were swarmed with tears. “Because of my family, they never would of let us marry because of your status. Y/n I would have left all of that behind for you, without a second thought”

Shaking your head you reply, “I couldn’t have asked that of you Zemo”

“And that’s one of the reasons why you are so perfect. You always put me before you, now this time I am asking you to finally let yourself choose. If you want me to leave say and I will leave. But if you don’t say I will stay with you, and I won’t let you leave again”

“We’re not who we once were, Helmut” you mutter, finally letting yourself use his first name and with that, he already knew your choice. His hand goes up to cradle the side of your face gently, moving it nearer to him.

“Then let’s discover each other, all over again”

Your eyes fluttered shut as he pushed his lips on you, fitting perfectly against yours as if they were made for you. He poised there, hoping he wasn’t being too forward but his lips smirked as you started to move your lips on him, crashing them on top of his for action, which he kindly gave.

His tongue poked your bottom lip, begging for entrance. One which you allow as you wrap your fingers behind his neck, getting tangled in his hair.

You could hardly believe this is where you were, once again with Zemo, his lips upon yours, desire between your legs. In the last twenty years, you had often dreamt of reuniting with Zemo, experiencing this moment again but you never thought it would happen. But here you were.

His hands travelled down your back, swooping under your butt as you wrapped your leg around his waist. Swiftly he lifts you off the chair and walks you over to the bed, placing you down on it and crawling on top of you.

His lips trail down your cheek, across your jawline and down onto your neck, sucking on that delicate pulse spot. A moan escapes from your lips and he pulls back chuckling. “For so long now I’ve longed to hear you moan for me Princess”

You just groan, your hand pushing his face back into your neck making him laugh but he quickly goes back to making a hickey on it. His fingers trail down to your shirt, slowly lifting it and once again he pulls away to be able to lift the shirt off you.

He holds back for a moment to admire your beauty. His hands move behind your back and swiftly undoes the clasps on your bra, tugging it off. He groans seeing you for all your glory and buries his head in your boobs. ‘Oh how I have missed these’

While his mouth latches onto your breasts, smothering them in kisses as his hands go to undo the buttons on your trousers. He starts to tug them down, with no sense of being gentle but rather a primal urge taking over him. He manages to tug them off you and then his lips move down even further. He trails his tongue from your breasts down your belly, leaving a trail of saliva. As he reaches your underwear, his teeth latch onto it. With a slight groan from his lips, he then pulls them off, sliding them down your legs and flicking them off to the floor along with your other discarded clothes.

He sighs in contentment as he buries his face into the side of your thigh as his fingers trail your prosthetic leg. Leaning forward he places a kiss on it, then trails upwards, littering it in soft kisses. The only softness you’ll be experiencing tonight.

As you feel him get nearer your core you let out a shudder in anticipation, as you shudder you feel his lips suddenly press against your core. He instantly latches into your clit, his tongue dancing on it, twisting it in circular motions. Your hands instantly grasp his hair, holding him close to your core, not letting him go. Not that he ever want to. Sandwiched between your legs is where he belonged.

“If I remember correctly, you always liked this part”

You let out a shocked gasp as suddenly a finger presses against your entrance and then slips inside of you, with ease from how wet you have become. He slides the finger all the way into the end, letting a moan rip out of your throat.

“It seems I do remember correctly”

“Instead of commentating everything why don’t you put that mouth to good use” you groan, pushing his face back into your crotch. His tongue instantly went back to your clit as he started to thrust his finger in and out of you, making sure it brushes against your walls. As you start to let more little moans he thrusts another finger inside, opening slightly to stretch you out.

You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening as he worked his tongue on your clit and his fingers in and out of you at a rapid pace. Then his fingers hit just at that right spot and your walls fluttered around him. You hardly got enough time to choke out a warning before you were gushing all over his fingers. When your climax started to edge away he pulled his face back from your clit, removing his fingers and while holding your eye contact he stuck his tongue out, lapping up your juices on his fingers.

He moans slightly as he licks it up, his eyes fluttering half close, ‘Mine Gott, I forgot just how good you tasted’

“Well let’s see if you are as good with that dick as you were in the past” you tease, pulling his face towards your to encompass in another kiss. As your hands hold his face to yours his fingers feel up the side of your waist, ghosting over your skin creating goosebumps.

You could sense when his fingers started to trail to his trousers though and you pull away from his lips making him whine.

“Strip for me”

He tilts his head smirking as he looks up into your playful eyes. “As you wish my princess,” he says as he climbs off you, standing at the end of the bed. Slowly he tugs off his large coat off, laying it on the side of the bed. Next, he works on his turtleneck, slowly tugging it up to his chest, then over his head. Soon it joins the steady growing pile of discarded clothes. Next, he quickly tugged down his trousers and boxers, his patience starting to wear thin.

As he pulled them down exposing his dick you hummed in approval. “Now isn’t that a sight for sore eyes”

“And you were complaining at me for talking” Zemo murmurs, stepping forward to crawl back onto you but your hold your hand up to stop him. “Put the coat back on”

“I see in our time apart you’ve become more demanding,” he says as he picks up the coat and slides it back onto his naked body. As he finally gets to crawl back on top of you, you grasp the fur collar and pull him closer to your face.

You run your fingers through his hair, making it even messier than it was before. Parts of it fell onto his forehead. His hands move down to hold his dick by your entrance, rubbing it against your folds. For a moment he hesitates, moving his head to rest against your forehead in anticipation.

“You’re still as beautiful as when I last saw you”

With that, he pushes into you, rather quickly because of how desperate he was to feel you around him. As he bottoms out he groans, pushing his face into the crook of the neck as you grasp the back of his head gasping. He stays still for a minute, treasuring the feeling of your walls clasping onto him. Then slowly he pulls mostly out of you, till just his head hung in your, and then thrust back into you.

He started to pick up speed, hearing the increase of your moans against his ear. His grunts and moans start to intertwine with yours as you both chase your pleasure.

“Gott, you are so perfect my princess. You feel so good around me” he’d groan into your ear as his hips thrust repeatedly into your, the sounds echoing on the walls of the room. His fingers sneak down your belly to your core, rubbing against your clit. Instantly your back was arched and your fingers grasped onto the coat.

“God Helmut, I don’t remember you being this good” you moan and with your words he speeds up, pumping inside of you. His head kept brushing up inside that perfect spot inside and with his fingers twisting on your clit you could feel your climax steadily approaching.

“H-Helmut, I’m going to, soon I’m-” you tried to get out between moans but there was no need to as Zemo could feel how close you were for the way your walls clung around him tightly.

“Come for me Princess, let me feel you. I need to feel you again my love, after so long”

And his words were music to your ears as you feel the knot within you snap and your wetness gushing over his dick. Zemo bites down on your neck, trying to be gentle, as he feels your walls grasp you even tiger as he thrusts into you. Not long after he felt his own release coming and as you lay there panting he thrusts in time to his release until he squeezed out every last drop.

He hovers over you for a moment, panting, wanting to remain in your warmth for just a moment longer but eventually he pulls out and collapse beside you.

He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you into his side, burying his face in your hair.

“Thank you Helmut” you whisper

“No my princess, thank you for forgiving me for everything I’ve ever done to you. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I don’t deserve your love but I desperately need it. I won’t lose you again my darling”

TAGS: @shrekboobies @arianalilyblack @multiyfandomgirl40 @lieutenantn @neoarchipelago @cable-kenobi @edencherries @faustlyaccused @julyvegan @prestigious-tea @hannahbal-the-fannibal @barneswidow @checkurwindow @babayaga67 @spookycereal-s @mylifeispainandiloveit

If you would like to be added to the tag list please fill out this form here

#zemo #baron zemo #helmut zemo #i love zemo #zemo x you #zemo fluff #baron helmut zemo #sugar daddy zemo #zemo x reader #zemo x y/n #zemo smut #zemo imagine #daniel brühl

[cloudy-leonhart]

You Took My World Away.

Author Note: Am I starting off with an angst fic about Erwin? Yes. 

Summary: Erwin didn’t really focus on love, not until he met Reader. Although, nothing good really lasts for him, so losing his lover wasn’t that suprising, but his potential baby? it hurts. Really, really, bad.

Pairings: Erwin x Reader

Type: Feminine Reader

Theme: Angst

TW: Death, Swearing, Injuries, Miscarriage.

[gif belongs to the rightful owner]

He knew it’d happen eventually.

Your presence wasn’t there at HQ anymore, he knew that he’d never get to hold your hand one day, he wouldn’t hear and see you greet him a good morning by the kitchen when he walks by, he would never be able to catch you in his arms ever again when your ODM gear breaks down while you swing around during your off days.

He just never knew how soon it was, he realized how much he took you for granted, when they brought what was left of your body to him, he realized how stupid he was to not have been there by your side. How stupid could he have been, you must’ve been so lonely while you passed.

Nobody spoke when Erwin softly cried as he held your body, nobody tried to talk to him to let go of your corpse, not even Hanji or Levi. His friends surrounded him and you, he held you close to his chest as his friends tried to make him feel better, “Erwin? You should let go, alright?” Hanji gently clutched your limp arm as Erwin had quieted down. “No, I-” Erwin strained voice tried to speak.

“Erwin. Let her go.” Levi’s voice cut through, Erwin looked at him with pain and disbelief in his eyes, “You- Why aren’t any of you grieving?-” Mike’s hand placed itself on his shoulder. “We are, Erwin, but you have to let her go.” Erwin’s grip around your body had tightened. Levi held his wrist, as Hanji slowly pulled you out of his grip. Erwin tried to pull you back in his arms, Levi and Mike pulled him back, restricting him from taking your corpse away from the soldiers who were responsible of handling the corpses of other soldiers.

“You don’t understand, I need to-” Erwin tried to explain himself, as he looked at Mike and Levi frantically, as if to tell them to let him go. The two squad leaders struggled to hold him back. “Erwin, snap out of it! You knew this would happen!” Levi’s harsh voice tried to get through to Erwin, but his cerulean eyes were focused on his lover’s dead body as it slowly faded out of his view.

“You can’t take her away from me!” Erwin’s pained cries tried to convince Hanji to turn back, they could feel their tears run down their cheek, they could feel their grip on your body tighten slightly, as if they too, didn’t want to hand you over, with a heavy sigh, you were placed on the rickety wood of the carriage that carried also what remains of soldiers who fought bravely to their deaths.

———

“Oi, Erwin.” Levi leaned by the door frame, watching as the blonde sat in his chair, holding what seems to be a piece of jewelry, by the way the sun rays shone through the window, blanketing his restless figure and the item with different shades of the sun’s gold, the piece of jewelry produced a glare that seemed bright white to those who chose to stare at it head on.

“Levi?” Erwin looked up from his seemingly long gaze at your necklace, looking up to meet Levi’s industrial blue eyes, who seemed to glare at him from the door frame. “What- what are you doing here?” Erwin’s voice sounded rough and dry, as if he was dehydrated or had a sick throat.

“You haven’t left your quarters, not even for meals, besides, Hanji needs a break from being in charge in your place.” Levi looked away from Erwin’s full blue eyes, it has been fairly obvious that Erwin still hasn’t gotten over your demise.

“Oh yeah, uhm, I’ll be there.” Erwin looked over at Levi who seemed to be fishing something from his pockets. “You don’t have to start working soon, I’m just, here to deliver something honestly.” Erwin’s figure perked up as Levi’s footsteps came closer, placing two letters, one was a blood-stained letter, the second, a letter with the doctor’s wax seal was on it.

Of course, the doctor’s letter came first, probably news about you, his beloved, late wife. He grabbed his letter opener, prying gently at the black wax seal that kept it closed until it was delivered to him.

He slowly removed the parchment out of the envelope, placing it on the side as his eyes scanned the words on the parchment. His eyes scanned it over and over again before a heavy and broken sigh came out of his lips. Levi looked over to Erwin who seemed to be on the verge of crying once again.

Levi knew better than to poke through Erwin’s business so he left quietly, closing the door to give his commander some privacy.

Erwin’s hold on the letter tightened as it wrinkled the parchment. It read,

———

Trost District, Jan. 16th 851

Commander Erwin Smith.

Survey Corps.

Commander Smith, I am writing to you about your late wife, Mrs. Smith. I am saddened to share with you that your wife had carried while in battle, she was 4 weeks in her pregnancy, I am terribly sorry to be the one who had to inform you of your late child, I bring my condolences and hope that soon enough, you’ll be able to come from Trost to Wall Sina to collect your late wife’s corpse and give her a final resting place.

My Condolences

Dr. Edward Harley

———

Erwin felt himself freeze, he tried to take in deep breaths, doing anything to prevent him from spilling his tears, he knew if even one spilled from out his eyes, he’d never stop crying again.

The overwhelming guilt of not being able to be there by your side in the battlefield, to not be present during your passing, you must’ve cried for him, he shook his head, trying to rid himself of his thoughts of you and looked up to the dirty ceiling of his quarters as he tried to blink his tears away.

He continued on, he felt his hands weaken as he reached for the blood stained letter, he knew it was from you, the rich royal blue wax seal, a sign of extreme passion for the one who was to receive the letter. His letter opener pried at the wax seal, opening with a bit more force from the knife.

He pulled out the parchment the envelope dropping as soon as he let it go. He read this slowly and carefully, different from the doctor’s letter. His eyes ran over your written words carefully, making sure not to miss not even one letter on the parchment. He didn’t even notice his tears staining the parchment, the ink slowly spreading into the parchment, not being water-proof.

The letter was carelessly thrown onto his desk as he cried his heart out, the letter read,

———

Dearest, Erwin,

My beloved husband, I am currently writing this letter on the day of our wedding, I will carry this letter everyday with me, for in fear of my demise being uncertain whether it’d be today or years later.

It pains me, the thought of leaving such a remarkably amazing husband behind, I knew from the day we both met each other that our lives will be short, which is why we both married as soon as we were sure that we truly wanted to spend every second of our lives being in each other’s arms. I wanted to start a family with you, Erwin. I knew it will be hard to be able to start a family but I want to someday, I hope that both of us live long enough to atleast have a child together, I wish to wake up in your arms everyday, I wish to watch you and our child play around as they laughed cheerfully from enjoying their childhood.

I am sorry that it came to the time you’re reading this now, rather than a time where we lived happily, I was selfish enough to wish that you never had to read this and I was able to throw this letter away. I want you to know that my death will not keep us apart, this world was cruel enough to take me away from you.

I am strong enough to tell you that even if in this time I’m taken away, I will still find you in another life, I will wait a hundred years to be with you again, my beloved husband and hopefully, the future father of my children.

I promise that I will perish with you as my last thought and our wedding as my last memory, may we meet again.

Yours Truly, Y/N Smith.

———

He finally let his cries out, it wasn’t silent nor was it pretty, it was loud and painful, his eyes stung from the salty tears that left it, the painful and broken cries from his mouth went ignored by Erwin, the letter now laid on his desk as he had his head in his arms, his shoulders shook with every cry, his lungs begged to breath big breaths rather than staggered and short ones.

His hands clenched around his hair, it felt easy to pull out his hair, he could feel the cold ring on his finger, which used radiate so much warmth, even if it was the coldest night or the winter days. It was like the ring was powered by your presence. It felt warm rather than cold metal whenever you were with him. Now it feels cold forever, colder than any blizzard or colder than ice on his skin.

He cried out his guilt and his anger, he cried out the guilt of not being able to grant you the one wish you wanted, a family.

He felt horrible knowing that he could never hold you or his child ever again. He should’ve kept you here, he should’ve never let you went on that expedition. He should’ve been there. He wanted to turn back time, even just a few seconds from your death he could’ve at least done something, just something.

Erwin cried for what seemed like endlessly, hours it felt, on the other side of his closed door, was Levi and Hanji, who was stationed around his door, Hanji sat down on the ground, the tray of food originally brought warm enough so Erwin could atleast enjoy something while mourning, now laid beside them cold and tough.

They listened as Erwin let out staggered breaths and pained cries, they listened as their friend was miserable. Levi glared at the closed door of their friend’s quarters, as if it was to blame for the pain Erwin felt.

They sat and listened to Erwin’s cries over and over again, waiting for the right time to come in and comfort their blonde-headed friend.

“Levi..I can’t stand to listen to him anymore, I’m going in.” Hanji pulled themselves up, dusting their uniform before grabbing the door knob, a pale hand covered Hanji’s, they looked over to Levi’s face, emotionless eyes bore straight in Hanji’s pitiful ones.

“Let him cry and mourn, he won’t say anything if we go in there, you know he keeps to himself.” Levi suggested, Pulls back as Hanji let out a small sigh, stepping back from the door.

“I wish I could help him.” Hanji mumbled, sitting back down beside the closed door, trying their best to drown out Erwin’s muffled cries.

“Everyone loses something everyday, it just so happens to be the most important thing, Erwin lost these past few days.” Levi looked over to Hanji before glancing at Erwin’s door and walking away, leaving with slight sympathy in his heart.

Hanji soon walked away with the cold tray in hand, unable to take the overwhelming aura of sadness and guilt radiating off Erwin’s quarters, Hanji walked away with sadness built up inside themselves and a determination to lead while Erwin grieves.

Hanji looked back one more time, seeing Levi retreating back to his office before mumbling something as they walked back to the mess hall, deep in thought.

“Captain Hanji?” Moblit’s voice broke through her train of thought, “Is something wrong?” The blonde spoke worriedly, Hanji looked up at Moblit before speaking softly.

“As much as I think what Levi said is right, I don’t think Erwin just lost something, I think he lost his whole world.”

#snk erwin #erwin snk #erwin smith #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan #aot x reader #aot #shingeki no kyojin x reader #shingeki no kyojin #aot veterans #snk x reader #aot x y/n #aot angst #erwin x reader #aot erwin #erwin x y/n #attack on titan erwin #sweet.erwin #sweet.aot

[parvulous-writings]

Broken Vows // Patrick McKenna x Reader

Request:     Hi hi! I absolutely love your writing and was wondering if I could make a request! Would it be possible to request #14 from the angst prompt list with Camerlengo Patrick McKenna with a slightly fluffy ending?

Requested by: anon​

Summary: Prompt requested:  14. “But... I thought you loved me?”

Warnings: N/A, I believe

Words: 1.4K

Notes: I had to use (Y/N) I’m sorry, I tried to avoid it, but I just think he’d be saying the name of his significant other rather than a term of endearment for most of this.   My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!

not my gif

You had gone to see Patrick in his office- it was after hours in the Vatican so to speak, and you had been eager to see him all day, in all honesty. You trotted up to his office- knocking gently against the lacquered door so not as to too badly disrupt his line of thought should he be sifting through piles of paperwork as he often did at this time. You carefully push the door open, and there he was; head bent over the desk, reading some paper that you couldn’t see. His hair- normally so fixed and pristine- was partially out of place, falling just over his forehead. His brow was creased in thought and concentration, even as you closed the door behind you he didn’t raise his head to greet you.  “Patrick,” You greet with a smile, but this does not elicit a response from him. You frown slightly, but figured that perhaps he hadn’t heard you. “Pat?” You repeat- again no response. “Father McKenna?” You asked, and this time he did actually look up.  “Ah, (Y/N)..” He gets up from his chair, and gestures for you to take a seat in front of him, being incredibly formal about your whole interaction. You were no stranger to his formalities whilst in the Vatican, however, this seemed over the top, even for him. “Please, take a seat. I’ve been meaning to speak with you.” You do as he asks, and he mirrors your action. You stare at him, almost blankly for a moment. This was not what you had expected- normally after a long day, even in the building of the Vatican, he would give you some sort of affection of comfort; usually a kiss on the cheek. Your leg starts to bounce anxiously as you wait for him to start speaking again, which he doesn’t. He seems to have gone into a daze. 

You clear your throat quietly, “Patr- Father McKenna?” You question, deciding to keep up this formal air in the conversation, Patrick would have broken it by now if he hadn’t thought it was necessary. He shakes his head, shaking away the thoughts that were starting to cloud his mind. “My apologies. Getting straight to business; I-I feel no need to dance around the subject. I have had reports of the pair of us being seen displaying affection towards one another.” That explained the overly-formal format of the conversation. Patrick was always very concerned about his public presentation, and his reputation amongst the Cardinals.  “Did they say where?” You asked him, curiously. It did make some amount of difference, it was a very serious problem if it was within the walls of Vatican city, but outside, it wasn’t as much of a problem.  “It matters not.” Patrick replied curtly, “I know you understand the seriousness of this situation, I do believe I’ve made it very explicit before, this jeopordises my position in the church, and puts a stain on my reputation. They are aware that I’ve broken my vows, which is no small thing I’m sure you’re aware.” You let him speak, allowing to get all of this off of his chest. You could tell by his voice and the way he moved his hands that he had been stressing out about this. 

You carefully move your chair closer to his desk, trying not to scrape it across the floor. “Well, you father broke some of his vows, did he not?” You point out to him, making Patrick bristle somewhat.  “My father was the Pope and held immense respect and power, of which I have neither.” He said sharply. You heart sank slightly, he hadn’t used that kind of tone with you before, even in small arguments you’ve had in the past. This wasn’t some petty spat, this was something more serious than you had originally realised. “I’m afraid I am not sure whether we can continue this...Affectionate relationship that we have.” He announced to you, and your heart felt as heavy as a stone.  “Patrick...” You start to protest, but he shakes his head to try an silence you. You continue to speak regardless of this. “But.. I thought you loved me?” 

At these words, Patrick seems to pause, to hesitate. He clears his throat and recomposes himself. “I did.” He pauses, “I-! do. But I have broken my vows to the church, and that is unacceptable.” As he keeps speaking, you feel the conflict of sorrow and rage begin to bubble up in your chest, but you managed to keep it contained for now.  “So that is the decision I have come to.”  “You didn’t think that perhaps we should discuss it first? Together? As a couple?” You ask, sharply. “That maybe I would have liked to have been aware of what was being said, of what you were thinking?” You push yourself to your feet, your annoyance, your anger, very clear on your expression. Patrick moves towards his window so that he doesn’t have to look at your face. He knew that that would break him, the ways and virtues he had been taught that he had already broken for you. 

“Please, compose yourself, I have thought-”  “No, I will not compose myself, Patrick!” You retort. “You have just stood here and told me that you no longer wish to be in a relationship with me, simply because figures in authority that never bothered you beforehand!” You exclaim.  “That is because I did not think it through, as I should have. I acted in passion, and in lust.” The man your heart still longed for replied, still not turning to face you.That was one of the things that hurt more than his words, his refusal to look at you. Silence fell over the both of you; the only sound in the room was the gentle breeze that brushed against the curtains McKenna stood next to. 

After a minute more of silence you get to your feet. “Well, if this is what you want, I’ll leave.” You tell him, your voice laced with the hurt and dejection that seemed to have latched itself to your very bones now. As you left the room, closing the door behind you, that’s when it really hit Patrick. What he had said, they way they had affected you. The way he had pushed you away, all because of his reputation in the Vatican. He hesitated a moment, before striding to the door to pursue you. “(Y/N)!” He called out for you, but you did not turn to face him, just like his hadn’t for you. “(Y/N), wait! Please!” He started to catch up with you rather quickly, his footsteps coming up quickly from behind. You still don’t turn to lay your eyes on him though, even as he walked beside you. “(Y/N), beloved, please.... I-I wasn’t thinking properly.” He hastily explains to you, still walking by your side as he practically begged from some acknowledgement from you, his higher power, his God in a sense. “I...” He tried to compose himself, “Please, give me another chance, my dear, this once... This time I will disregard what they say of us... I will even leave the Vatican, if you so desire it, just, d-don’t leave me, please.” 

His words, his vow, cause you to slowly draw to a stop. “What?” You asked him, rather astounded. He looked at you earnestly, gently biting his bottom lip in anxiety. “Do you mean that...?” You asked, slowly, almost unsure. He nodded quickly.  “Yes, I do.” Patrick replied, taking one of your hands in both of his own, “I mean it as much as I did my vows... But this is one I shall not break..” He promises you. “Just give me one last chance to make it up to you... Tonight, even. We can do it tonight.” He speaks quickly, hardly even breathing. “Whatever you want.. Dinner and a movie? How does that sound?”  You start to smile, his sweetness and eagerness to please you again rekindling your fondness for him like a flame in dry grass.  You nod slowly. “Yeah... That sounds good to me...” You whisper to him, and he sighs gently in relief as you press a kiss to his cheek.  “Good... Good, I’m glad..” He chuckles softly, looking down at your hands briefly, before his eyes move back to yours. “Let me go and tidy up my office.... Then we can go home.” The look in his eyes tells you he means it, and you nod.  “Do you want me to come with you, or would you rather I-”  “Come with me, Beloved... Please?” You chuckled at the puppy eyes he starts to give you, and nod. Without another word, he lead you off down the hall, and thus began your evening with Father Patrick McKenna. 

#camerlengo patrick mckenna #patrick mckenna #patrick mckenna x reader #patrick mckenna imagine #angst oneshot #fluffy ending #Ewan McGregor #ewan mcgregor x reader

[thisnoodlewritesao3]

The One Where You Fall In Love (And Then You Don’t) | Sawamura Daichi/Reader

Characters: Sawamura Daichi, Reader (Moonlight), Sugawara Koushi, Azumane Asahi (mentioned), Miya Osamu, Other!Reader (Angel), Other!Reader (Sunshine)

Pairings: Sawamura Daichi/Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of cheating, mild swearing

Word Count:  4406

Summary: You loved Daichi - you swear you did - for so long, and for so hard. You loved him, but you weren't quite sure when you stopped liking him.

A/N: And we are back to my regularly schedule antics as promised. I want to give a big thank you to @satan-ruler-of-hells for helping me by Beta-reading (and to my mom for reading it too). This is also one part of what will eventually be a much larger series including some of the girls that you meet along the way. So, follow me and keep an eye out for them

Series Masterlist | Next

----------

You loved Daichi.

You had ever since you met him - well, that was a strong sentiment - but it had always felt that way, so you couldn’t fault your own emotions. Of course, you’d heard about him before, he was on the volleyball team after all; you’d just never met him until your third year. Somehow, by some miracle, you were put into the same class, seated right next to each other. He was sitting by the window - something that made you jealous because you wanted the window seat - you opted for just staring in that direction instead.

Maybe he took your staring the wrong way because he apologised to you after class. Obviously, you were confused, because he hadn’t done anything wrong. His friend snickered, “already scaring the ladies on the first day?” Earning himself a swift elbow in the ribs. You snorted at the noise he made.

“It’s just… you were glaring at me the whole class.” He said sheepishly, completely different from five seconds ago; it was endearing, his sudden nervousness.

Now that you couldn’t figure out, had you really been glaring at him? Your friends had always said that when you get lost in thought you tend to look more pissed off, but you never took them seriously. Not until now, that is. “Oh. Oh! Oh God no!” You cry out, waving your hands, “I was just staring out the window!” You explained, now feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

“Oh.” He says, looking more relieved with each passing second. “Had me worried for a minute, thought I’d done something wrong.” He chuckled - God, that chuckle was gorgeous.

“The only one who did something wrong was the teacher,” you scrunch up your nose and smile, “putting someone so gorgeous next to the window, how am I meant to stay focused now?” You froze, realising what you said. Come on, Y/N, you can’t just go around flirting with people. You silently kick yourself when he doesn’t say anything, just lets his jaw drop open. Of course, it doesn’t take him long to recover, flashing you a winning smile.

“Maybe you should sit by the window, although I think I’d find it hard to focus.” He gave you a lazy wink, his silver haired friend hollering at him for such smooth moves; now it’s your turn to recover, only you don’t do it with half as much grace as him, stuttering and fumbling around.

“I think you broke her,” his friend laughs, smacking him on the back, clutching his stomach like this is the best thing he’s ever witnessed.

An arm wraps around your waist and it snaps you back to reality, your friend smiling up at Daichi sickeningly sweetly. “Look at you, picking up the hot guys on the first day. And two of them!” She calls out, eyes darting to the silver haired boy.

“Picking up-” You ponder what she meant before gasping, “stop it!” You push her off of you as she starts her own fit of giggles. “I was just apologising for my resting bitch face.” That sets her off again, because of course your resting bitch face had managed to attract two guys.

“You always have a bitch face.” She quips, whisking you away. You wave over your shoulder, taking note of the soft smile on his face.

----

You loved Daichi.

Despite his confidence yesterday, it’s actually his silver haired friend that talks to you first - his name is Sugawara Koushi - you don’t know it yet, but he will grow to be the person you confide in the most. Even before Daichi.

“What’s up, bitch face.” Suga sits on your desk, and for a second you contemplate kicking him.

“What’s up, Suga tits.” You lean back in your chair. Daichi snorts at the nickname, making your heart swell with pride - wow, that has never happened before. Suga breaks out into a big grin, pointing his thumb at you.

“Oh, you should totally keep this one,” he says.

“This one? Is Sawamura here a player? Do I need to protect my precious little heart?” You gently place your hand over your heart, gasping lightly and making sure to pull the most adorably-shocked face that you can. The playful tone doesn’t go unnoticed by either of the boys.

“The only thing he plays is volleyball.” Suga says at the same time that Daichi says, “maybe you do.” With another lazy wink.

You can’t help but snort again, causing the three of you to break out into a fit of laughter.

It surprised you how close the three of you became and how quickly; for you, it felt like everything finally fell into place. Suga was rather chaotic - you remember the time he basically used Asahi as a human battering ram - but he had his moments of kindness. Daichi was effortlessly smooth, sometimes a little intimidating, and he had this aura of authority that you couldn’t help but smile at.

When they introduced you to their volleyball team, you made sure to stick closer to Daichi’s side. One of them asked if you were his girlfriend, neither of you fought off the notion - maybe you were crazy, but you swore Daichi was blushing.

You aren’t surprised when he asks you to go on a date with him - in fact, you’re elated - this is the moment you’d been waiting for; Suga was the first to hear the news and congratulated you.

Your happiness with the silver haired boy was quickly silenced when he brought a packet of condoms to class the next day and not-so-subtly shoved them in your direction. Had you ever wanted to punch someone? Not until you met Sugawara Koushi.

Everything gets worse when Daichi sees them on your desk, eyeing you curiously before you haphazardly shove them in your bag. No one else seemed to see the box, but that didn’t stop your embarrassment.

You made a note to kill Sugawara one day.

----

You loved Daichi.

That one date had turned into two, then three, and next thing you know, you’re seeing each other multiple times a week. He even asks you to be his girlfriend, which you all but scream yes at.

Maybe the first sign that things weren’t going to be perfect was how much time his volleyball club needed from him - but you weren’t upset about that, not at first, at least.

Because Daichi still never failed to make you feel special, like you were the most important thing in the entire world. He’d whisk you off your feet every single time you came to see him at practise. The amount of times he’s put a bouquet of flowers on your desk made your heart swoon. He showers you with kisses and hugs, love and affection for days; you swear, if he could have you stay with him all the time, he would.

You never put that box of condoms to use - not yet - but it sits inside your bedroom drawer behind an old packet of cute pens you never wanted to use, a new set of nail polishes, and a book you’d been meaning to move to the shelf.

“Do you know how much I love you?” He mused one evening, running his fingers through your hair while you watched a film. You hum, a little confused by his question, so you turn to face him.

“I’m going to assume that it’s a lot,” you giggle when he swats at your arm.

“A lot does not begin to cover it,” next thing you knew, he was kissing you, pulling you so close like he was afraid to lose you.

----

You loved Daichi.

So much that you’d watch his volleyball games and cheer him on, even if you really had no idea what was happening - he’d tried to explain it to you, but it didn’t help that much. The thing was that you didn't need to understand the passion in his eyes, you just needed to be there for him.

You wouldn’t have felt so bad about not learning about volleyball if he didn’t pay so much attention to all your hobbies - though you didn’t think it was that difficult to figure out the plot of Ouran HighSchool Host Club.

It became so easy to lose yourself in him. Soon, it was no longer just Y/N - the girl who makes friends a little too easily, and Daichi - the boy who is so blissfully unaware of the eyes on him - now you are Y/N and Daichi - the couple who are ignorant to their own worries. Because who needs to worry when everything is just perfect?

The way his hand fits into yours makes your heart swell; the hunger in his eyes when he’s playing volleyball makes your breath pick up; when he brushes your hair behind your ear and swoops in for a kiss.

Everything he did was just so effortlessly perfect. Did he even realise it? The way he drove you completely crazy? Before him, you were sure you’d never feel this way - especially not with how your mom talks about your dad. You were sure that true love was a myth told by hopeful housewives.

You thought this until you met Daichi. Until you fell for him so hard, so quickly that you weren’t really sure what had happened. The fire of your love burned so bright and hot, with such anger, spreading around to everyone - whether for the better or the worse, you wouldn’t know. Not yet.

----

You loved Daichi.

That was why, when things were just a little too difficult, you’d rather call Sugawara. You didn’t want to bother your boyfriend with your problems - even when he said that it’s fine and that’s what I’m here for. But you knew what would happen. You’d seen it happen in front of your eyes.

“What if I’m not good enough?” You sigh, pulling at the grass beneath you as Suga stares at you sadly. “What if he leaves me because I can’t figure out volleyball? It means so much to him, and yet I just...” There’s obvious panic in your voice.

The setter sighs heavily, running his hand through his hair. You were difficult to figure out. Your confidence always seemed unwavering. But beneath the surface you were riddled with insecurities; it was like a maze in your mind. One wrong word and you’re met with a dead end with no memory of how to turn around. He could only imagine that a scared little girl lay in the centre, wrapped up in a little fantasy world with dolls - a world where mommies and daddies got along, and she could act like a girl again.

“You know Daichi would never do that to you. He’s just happy that you watch the games.” Suga said, confident that that was the right choice. He couldn’t tell, not as you slowly looked up to the sky, face lacking the emotion your eyes yearned to show.

“I guess you're right.” He barely heard you, but maybe he hadn’t made such a mistake afterall.

He wondered how Daichi managed to deal with you; then he remembered that he didn’t. For Daichi, you were a constant ball of sunshine and happiness. Even when Suga could see the pain in how you moved, when he could hear your frustrated phone calls to your mother, the way you almost fell asleep in class so many times.

He watched you on the few days they’d come back to yours as you acted more like a housewife than a teenage girl. He’d joked with Daichi that you’d make the perfect wife one day - he didn’t miss the way you glared before lifting your baby sister up and planting her softly on your hip, feeding one of your brothers as he wailed.

Sometimes Suga wondered whether Daichi saw these things too. If he did, he never said anything.

----

You loved Daichi.

But when he asked you what you were planning to do after school, you didn't really know how to respond other than saying, “I have to watch the kids…” you said it like it should have been obvious, there wasn’t much else you could do. You’d never put much thought into college, not that you had the time to. You were happy with how things were now, why did they have to change?

“What about after that?” He asked, pausing the episode of Attack on Titan you were watching, turning to face you fully, clearly intent on continuing this conversation.

After what? After your siblings grow up enough to not rely on you? But that wouldn’t be for such a long time. The twins were still only two, not even taking in account your sister, who can now hold her head up herself.

“Do you not want a job?” His brow twitched in slight anger and you knew why; he wanted to know what future you had together. But you didn’t know. You’d never had a chance to daydream about the future, you couldn’t even glance back to the past, you were glued into the present without room to move.

“I do,” you shrugged, laughing nervously, “but it isn’t that big of a deal. Besides, I’ve got you. So what more do I need right now?” You tentatively reached out and rested your hand on his, squeezing it lightly. He squeezed back, letting you know he wasn’t really upset.

“Yeah, we have each other,” he smiled softly, pulling you into a big hug. You ran your hands through his hair, trying not to think about how he’ll be going off to college soon, trying your best to bask in this moment.

Things were never going to be easy, you see that clearly now.

----

You loved Daichi.

You just wished he hadn’t chosen somewhere an hour away from home. You wanted to be able to see him, to hold him close and never let him go, but he seemed hellbent on leaving. Of course, you never told him this, you just stayed by his side, talking idly about what he plans on doing.

He plans on being a police officer. You tell him he’d be good at that. He says thank you. There is an awkward tension in the air, but neither of you bring it up.

You want to tell him how you wished he would have chosen somewhere closer because he knows you can’t just leave the house whenever you want, but he’d just tell you that that was ridiculous. That you were an adult and you could do what you wanted (it was a fight you’d had too many times this month alone). He would never understand, so you told yourself you were okay with that.

That night you’d fallen asleep in his jacket, his scent barely lingering on the fabric now - you considered asking him if he would make it smell like him, but he’d be leaving soon, so he’d probably accidentally take it with him.

----

You loved Daichi.

Even when his nightly calls slowly turned into every few days, and then once a week. Nowadays, you felt lucky to hear his voice once a month. Of course he’d visit, but even those visits were so sparse that you didn’t really know how to feel. Empty. If you had to put a name to the feeling, that would be it.

You brushed off your feelings, because Daichi was still so happy, so maybe you were just missing something. Because on the days when he did call you, you were able to smile so wide.

Because you did love him.

That was why you decided to surprise him, take his advice from many months ago, to finally live life how you wanted to - even if it was only for a day. You left your siblings in the caring hands of Suga, who almost looked sad as you left, but he waved you off proudly nonetheless.

Maybe you should have felt sad when he didn’t get worried that you didn’t respond to his text, but it was normal, what’s the point of getting sad at something that happens every day? There wasn’t one. Not a single one.

You can’t help the feeling of something - though you aren’t sure what - weighing down your chest. Each step closer to his dorm feels like an eternity and before you know it, you’re too busy thinking about whether or not you’d made a mistake. The hallway suddenly feels hot, air slowly suffocating you. Had it always been so hot in these halls? You'd be sure to ask Daichi; maybe he could explain the aching in your chest, the weight of your lungs, the mild headache from the stress around you.

But when you knock, and when he opens, you aren’t greeted with the normal show of being whisked off of your feet. In fact, you aren’t greeted with Daichi at all. In his place stands a young woman, so radiant and ethereal you might think her an actual angel. But she wasn’t. No, the sinister reasons for her being here are all too obvious. You note the marks down her neck - the ones he’d refused to give you, lest you ruin your innocence before marriage - the way her cheeks are flushed, sweat shining her forehead. The way his shirt - you knew it, because it had been one you’d bought him - taunted you by daring to fall so perfectly on her body.

You can’t speak. The wind knocked from your lungs. Have you ever been hurt so quickly? Maybe, but that was only in front of Sugawara. You slowly raised a shaking hand to your mouth, trying to decide whether or not to give into the nausea that hit you so violently.

What had you done to deserve this? You couldn’t think of anything - not right now, at least. Of course you weren’t perfect, but who was? Daichi was. To you he was.

All around you, the world seemed to crumble, you couldn’t speak or move. For a second, it seemed like she recognised the look in your eyes - so obviously wounded by the sight of her. Her eyes flitter into the dorm. His voice calling out, “who is it, angel?” You have to press your hand to your heart, and check it, it felt like you’d been stabbed. You might have been happier with that.

When he pulls himself into frame you don’t even have the energy to cry, mind wracked trying to figure out where you’d gone wrong.

His chest is littered with bites, and marks, and scratches.

His face falls when his eyes meet yours, something breaking deep inside of him as you shake, feigning the softest smile. “Surprise…” you try and cheer, trying to pretend like you hadn’t seen him this way. Trying to cover the image of him in front of you with the Daichi you knew. The man with an aura of authority, the man too kind and blissfully unaware of the eyes on him.

----

You loved Daichi.

No, you love Daichi.

Maybe that was your personal imperfection.

As you sat in his dorm, listening to his excuses, you could only smile, tracing your finger around the edge of the mug. If you were honest, none of this hurt as much as you thought it would - of course it hurt, but the pain was lessened so deeply by something inside of you.

“I didn’t mean for you to find out like this. I-I… I thought maybe if we kept trying, then maybe we could-” you cut him off by gently placing the mug onto the coffee table, noting the little pieces of her that littered the apartment.

“I think what you mean,” you straighten your back and turn to face him - he’s still shirtless, that girl is still in his shirt - she sits next to him, the space between them seems like such a cavern now. She looks so much like she wants to escape, but you can’t ever escape something you’d walked into so effortlessly, “is that you didn’t mean for me to find out.” He opens his mouth, trying to find the words before he grunted. You let out a breath, clapping your hands together, “well, when you told me to go out and live my life, I never thought this is what it would be like.” You look around the room slowly.

“It isn’t like you ever needed me,” now he was desperate, trying to find something to use against you, “you always had Suga clinging to your side.” He sneered. Was that something he was proud of? That he might have hurt you with your own friendship. “You never even trusted me anyway.” He was hurt, you knew that much.

You bite back at your lip, wanting to yell I think everyone can clearly see why, but no. Because this is the first time he’s ever done something like this. “Maybe that’s true, but if you really think that, then you never really knew me at all.”

There’s guilt in his eyes because he knows that you know he just tried to hurt you, tried to make you run away from him. But you don’t need to run.

“I spent a lot of time thinking,” you continue, rubbing your hands on your sides to try and ease some of your personal tension, “that when you slowly stopped calling, that you were really busy; you were out here doing what I should have. You were living your life.” You glance at the girl - she stinks of shame, tugging at the hem of the shirt. “And I can see that I was right.” There aren’t any more words needed. You can’t even think of anything else to say.

You stand up to leave, but he grabs your wrist, “we can still try, I- I want you to still love me. And I will love you, because I do love you.” He reeks of desperation now. It makes you feel sick. It hurts. You just want to leave. You don’t want to be here anymore. You can’t stand to see him. Not like this. Not when you’re about to crumble. You were fine holding yourself up a moment ago, but now, seeing the tears prickle into his eyes, you don’t know if you can do it.

It takes everything in you to smile sweetly down at him, “I never said I didn’t love you,” you chime, gently unwrapping his fingers from around your wrist. What’s left behind isn’t warmth, no, it feels more like a burn, “but I don’t think I like you anymore, Daichi.”

Maybe that is your last hurrah as you slink out of the dorm. 

----

You still love Daichi

As tears dribble down your cheeks, you call the one person you can think, hoping he can give you the strength to keep walking and not crumble right here.

Just as he answers, someone taps on your shoulder. The girl - she’d introduced herself, but you didn’t hear her - a buzzing in your ears reminds you of the blinding anger. You can’t even focus on what she’s saying. Something about how she didn’t know, or that he’s a great man. You don’t have a response. Not until she opens her eyes and notices the tears, “you really loved him, didn’t you?” Her voice is soft. Maybe she finally realises the calamity of what she’s done.

Did you love him? Well, that was definitely a yes. You couldn’t deny it, not even to her. You doubted you could ever fall out of love with him. “I’ll call you back,” you mumble to Suga, hanging up and taking a seat at the nearest bench, beckoning her to join you. “I do- I did. Did he ever tell you how we met?” She shakes her head slowly, so you decide to tell her a tale as old as time. Of a boy in a class, and a girl with a love for windows. Of how he blocked your light, and had kept doing so until right now. She listens so intently, because she must know the pain you feel.

You tell her about his unwillingness to give up and his aura of authority - she agrees, because who wouldn’t - you tell her about the passion in his eyes, how he could bring the first years to their knees. She laughs and you can see why he chose her. There were stars in her eyes for a thousand light years.

You can’t help but think that maybe love doesn’t exist, just as your mother had warned you for so long.

----

For too long, five years to be exact, you spend endless nights trying to forget Daichi. The memory of him sticks to the walls. So as soon as you can, you move to Hyogo - a place that even Daichi hadn’t managed to touch. You hesitated when you said goodbye to Suga, but he had met a girl that radiated the sun, and you just knew that he was going to be fine.

You opted to go to online university, some shame in the fact you’d never had a chance to go before, but that was a worry for another day. Your biggest concern was work. How were you to find a job with no work experience? A place to stay would be nice, too, but you could easily take it one day at a time.

On your hopeless search, you practically stumble into a restaurant by the name of Onigiri Miya. Of course, Daichi somehow lingers here when you are met with two - or one - vaguely familiar faces. You dig into the depths of your mind, trying to think of where you remember them from.

You brush it off, sitting down at the counter and aimlessly searching through the menu. Maybe you sat there for too long, staring with such tension, because a plate of onigiri is placed in front of you. “From my idiot brother, but made by me,” he sighs, taking a quick note of the way your eyes light up.

“I can pay!” You call out, sifting through your bag for your wallet. Except they both refuse to take your money and you huff.

When the chef - Miya Osamu - smiles lazily down at your pouting face, something in your heart fizzles awake.

For the first time in five years, you think that maybe love can still exist.

-----------------

Taglist:

@pies-writes-and-more @realcube

If you want to be added to the tag list, the send me a DM, or an ask and I will gladly add you!

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #my writing #sawamura daichi #sawamura daichi x reader #sawamura daichi angst #angst #haikyuu writing #hq writing #hq x reader #hq daichi #thisnoodlewrites #the.girls.touched.by.space

[hopelesshawks]

Official Accounts Part 36- Fight Club Shit

Summary: (y/n) was perfectly happy remaining anonymous, even if her best friends were all pro heroes and she worked under THE Hawks. Handling the technical aspects of hero work from the background suited her just fine, thank you very much. That goes out the window when suddenly her twitter blows up thanks Denki and the famed no. 2 hero is asking her to run his own official twitter as a result

If you don’t want to see Official Accounts content blacklist #hopelessoa

Masterlist

“Wait, wait, wait what did you think they were planning?” Mina laughs. “I’m not gonna keep rehashing the story if everyone’s gonna keep laughing at me,” you protest. “I believe the words she used were ‘fight club shit’,” Denki cackles beside you. “Well excuse me for being incredibly suspicious of anything Hawks and Bakugo are trying to plan together that they think I can’t know about. It’s not like one of them has anger issues and both of them are competitive or anything,” you shoot back. “Hey dumbass! Who the fuck are you saying has anger issues?” Bakugo yells from your living room. “Technically you’re the one who identified yourself with anger issues, I didn’t name names!” you shout back. “Keep talking shit, see what happens.” “You wanna fight Kacchan? Let’s rumble!”

Before you can make good on your threat a pair of familiar arms are wrapping around your waist from behind. “I sat through that whole lecture on how I better not be ‘on that fight club shit’ with Bakugo not even an hour ago and now here you are picking fights,” Hawks teases. “Does it really count as picking a fight when it’s completely justified?” you fire back as you turn to face your boyfriend. “Yes, yes it does,” he laughs. “Whatever, he totally would have it coming.” “And then you’d both feel guilty about it for weeks.” “Hey! You’re not supposed to be able to read us like that yet!” you protest. “(Y/n) you are an open book written for very dumb children. It’s not that hard to read you,” Shinso cuts in. “Wooow, isn’t this supposed to be my party? Why am I being bullied right now?” “You make it so easy sometimes,” Kiri admits as he walks into the kitchen to grab more beers for the pong table he and Bakugo had set up. “Et tu brute?” you gasp dramatically. “You know we say it with love,” he laughs. “Hawks, Denki, you guys coming?” he adds as he walks out the room. Both men call out a yes, leading Shinso to grab his drink quickly before Denki drags him out of the kitchen. “You and Denki pong partners?” you ask as your boyfriend presses a quick kiss to your cheek before releasing you to follow the others out to the pong table. “Yep, you gonna root for us?” Hawks asks cheekily as he backs out of the kitchen. “Hmm, I don’t know. Kiri and Kacchan are pretty good. I’ll have to think it over and get back to you later,” you tease. Hawks shakes his head fondly but still throws you a smile and a wink before finally joining the others, leaving just you and Mina in the kitchen.

“I feel so aggressively single right now wow,” Mina jokes. “Your person is out there somewhere,” you assure her. “See that? That’s the kinda cheesy shit only people in relationships say,” she points out. “Well it’s true!” you laugh. “You guys are really good for each other, huh?” “I think so.” “I’m really, really happy for you. You deserve it.” “Thanks Mina. We should do a girl’s night soon. It’s been a long time since we’ve hung out just the two of us.” “You sure Hawks will let me steal you away for an entire night?” “I’d like to see him try to stop us.” That makes Mina laugh. “Fair enough. Speaking of, you may need to go celeb shot for your mans. Looks like he and Denki are getting crushed,” she points out. You turn around to look out towards the game and laugh when you see she’s right. “Let me go save my boyfriend and best friend from humiliating defeat then,” you laugh before quickly finishing off what’s left of your drink and walking out to join them.

Alas even your help can’t save Denki and Hawks and eventually they wind up defeated. Almost immediately Hawks is demanding a rematch and you can’t help but laugh as he and Bakugo start bickering. It’s a dynamic you were still adjusting to in all honesty. When you had considered the ways Hawks would fit into your friend group way back when you’d invited him to stay with you, you hadn’t anticipated he and Bakugo becoming friends. It was always a pleasant surprise when you’d discover the two of them were running a patrol together or if you’d catch one texting the other. They still bickered and if you asked either of them they’d probably deny their budding bromance but it still made you happy all the same.

Bakugo wasn’t the only one who had gotten close with Hawks. He and Denki had become close as well. You think it’s because Denki has never been opposed to filling silences. On days when Keigo is annoyed or stressed, when the pressures of being number two are particularly intense, he knows he can meet up with Denki and not have to say a word. He can just sit and listen as Denki rambles on and on about whatever his latest obsession is. On days he does feel like contributing, he’s down to debate even the weirdest hypotheticals Denki can come up with. You already have the sneaking suspicion that even if things end between you and Hawks, the two of them will stay close.

You’re pulled out of your musings when Hawks walks up and grabs your hand. “What’s got you thinking so hard little dove?” he asks. “Nothing really, I’m just happy,” you reply with a soft smile. He practically melts at the sight. “C’mon with me to the balcony, I wanna give you something,” he says as he gently tugs you in that direction. You follow behind as your curiosity blooms, but no matter how much you ask him what it is he ignores you until the two of you are alone on the balcony in the night air.

You wait for him to say something, knowing by now that it’s always best to just give him time to gather his thoughts. His eyes stay trained on the sky even as he finally begins speaking. “I know we haven’t gotten to see each other as much because so much of my work has been out of the office lately,” he finally admits. “It’s ok, I know how it is,” you shrug. “Yea but it’s a little weird after seeing each other almost all day every day while I was taking time off,” he replies. “Yea we got a little spoiled,” you laugh. “I miss having tea with you in the evening.” “Ugh yes. I miss you making breakfast for me in the morning, early bird.” “I miss you being there for me if I have a nightmare. I miss you playing music while you get dressed or do chores around the apartment. I miss you being the first person I see in the morning and the last I see at night,” he confesses into the quiet night. “Kei? What’re you saying?” you ask, sensing the subtle shift in the atmosphere that tells you he’s more serious than you’d initially thought. He finally turns to face you as he pulls a key out of his pocket and holds it out to you. “Will you move in with me?” he asks in a breath, the words seeming so delicate somehow, as if afraid they’ll fracture the fragile moment he’s created on this balcony with you.

Your heart stops and then immediately begins to race. It may seem like such a simple thing from the outside, a small step forward in your rapidly progressing relationship. Something that may seem like an obvious next step considering this whole thing started in part as a result of him temporarily living with you. You know the truth though. This is his “think fast”. This is his way of showing you just how much he trusts you, just like him telling you his real name was. Not only is he saying he wants you in his space, his home, but he wants you to be a part of it. “You ok there?” Keigo asks and god he sounds so nervous. But you’re realizing you’ve been quiet too long now so finally you nod your head frantically and take the offered key. “Yes! Of course Kei, I would love to move in with you. My answer is yes,” you laugh. “Jesus Kid, you had me worried for a second there,” he huffs but he’s grinning too as he pulls you in for a sweet and passionate kiss. Even once your lips part he keeps you close, his forehead pressed to yours as he lets himself truly relish in the fact he gets to have you.

“So when can I move in?” you all but whisper into the space between you. “How about tomorrow?” he suggests. “My lease on this place doesn’t run out for another month Kei,” you respond, pulling back a little so he can see you roll your eyes. “And? Bakugo and I could use it for our Fight club shit,” he grins. “Oh my god, you’re the worst,” you groan. You try pushing him away but Keigo doesn’t let you get too far, laughing as he pulls you back close to him again. “Nah, you love me,” he teases you. You shake your head but sober back up a little, looking him in his beautiful golden eyes as you say, “I do. I love you Keigo Takami.” “I love you too (y/n) (y/l/n).”

You don’t know exactly what’s in store for the two of you from here on out, but whatever it is you’re glad he’ll be by your side through it.

Author’s Note: I know beer pong is a very American thing but I feel like Kirishima saw it in an American movie and from then on insisted it be included at parties. Also bonus points if you caught the Umbrella Academy reference. On a more serious note this is it. The final chapter of Official Accounts. I’m so incredibly touched by all the love this fic has received and I’m so grateful to all of you who’ve supported me by reading, liking, and reblogging it. This became so much larger than I thought it would but I’m so happy to have gone on this little journey with you all. I love each and every one of you and hope you’ll stick around to see what I write next ❤️

Thanks for reading everyone! ❤️❤️❤️

Taglist [closed]: @cathy8taffy @katzurras @grumpyfroggies @captaincyberqueen @itskindofafairything @420-uwu @someweirdshitman @oliviasslut @the-adzukibean @jupiter-is-a-sero-kinnie @ladyzayismultifandom @pixelwisp

#hopelessoa #hawks #wing hero hawks #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n #hawks smau

[thran-duils]

My Turn (PA P.2)

Title: My Turn (Performance Art, Part Two) Summary:  Fem!Reader x Ransom Drysdale. The reader is married to Ransom; a picture of their life and flashback to when they met. If she had been here by her own choice and her own choice alone, things may be better for her. Ransom is devious though and is able to tangle her into his web. Words: 2,651 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Dub-con, dub-con smut, body shaming, coercion, emotional abuse, loveless relationship Author’s Note: This was supposed to be a one shot but here we are.

Part One || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

“You are always so much more relaxed when Ransom isn’t here,” Harlan remarked lightly, his fingers tapping on the table lightly.

You looked over your shoulder from the stove at him, caught off guard by the comment. He was sitting there, his gaze prodding. Marta was at the small kitchen table with him as well, looking as uncomfortable as you with the random comment.

When he noticed the startled look on your face, he gave you a gentle smile. “I’m not accusing you, Y/N. No need to be on edge. Just… making an observation.”

Unsure of what to say, you looked away trying to conjure up anything that would not be taken too seriously.

“He can be intense sometimes,” you offered up, stirring the soup in the pot.

Once a month at least, you made a point to visit Harlan on your own – well, now with Oliver. He was sleeping in one of the guest rooms upstairs that still held one of the cribs from when his grandchildren were young. Now, his great-grandson was using it. Fran had taken the baby monitor with her down to the laundry room. She insisted on coddling him as much as she could when you visited. You were cooking dinner as you usually did when you made these visits. You enjoyed Harlan’s company – your grandparents had never been a large part of your life, so it was nice to have one. You cherished his company and his humor. And you enjoyed Marta’s company as well. She was the closest thing you had to a real friend. All the women at the country club were not for you, even though you faked it perfectly whenever you were around them.

‘’Intense’,” Harlan rolled around in his mouth, contemplating on the word choice. “Hmm. Yes, I suppose that is an accurate way to describe it.”

The conversation dropped off from there, silence filling the space. You snuck a look at him and saw he was deep in thought, staring down at his hands.

What an odd thing to say, you thought to yourself.

But Harlan was one to notice something like that.

<><><>

As you walked back from the kitchen with a glass of water, you noticed Harlan was standing in his veranda, overlooking the back yard. Changing course, you walked out of the screen door, catching his attention.

“Anything interesting, birthday boy?” you asked.

“Besides the beautiful sunset?” Harlan asked, smiling and gesturing at the setting sun.

“It is a fine shade of orange,” you commented, coming to stand by him.

He nodded and asked, “How are you enjoying the party so far? And where are my congratulations? I think that’s in order.”

You laughed, “Of course. Congratulations for your 85th birthday. And it is… just beginning. So, so far so good. The cake looks lovely, I saw it in the kitchen. Lemon frosting. Should be tasty. It is one of my favorites.”

“I remembered that,” Harlan said. “You love lemon tarts too. And lemon bars. I am sensing a theme here. We are very much alike in our passion for lemon dessert.”

“Hmm, you’re really going to enjoy part of your gift,” you said, reaching into your pocket for the candies. “I brought these for you.”

He peered into your outstretched hand and let out a throat chortle. You dumped the lemon warheads into his hand, sharing the laugh. Examining them, he said, “I am sure that is what my face will look like when I eat them.”

“Should do it in front of everyone. It’ll look nice in the photos,” you joked.

“I just might,” Harlan said, smiling at you. He slipped them into his pocket and told you, “Thank you, Y/N.” He held out his arm. “Escort me inside?”

You looped arms with him, “Yes, of course.”

<><><>

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ransom snapped, standing in front of Harlan’s desk. Harlan had called him into the study from the party and informed him he was considering changing his will, expressing his unhappiness with the family.

“Does it sound like I’m kidding?” Harlan asked nonchalantly, only a twitch in his face giving away he was annoyed that Ransom had swore at him. “It is what is best for everyone if they do not shape up.”

“So, you’re just going to give your fortune away if everyone doesn’t change to what you want them to be?” Ransom asked, laughing in disbelief.

Harlan shook his head, “No… no, I do not intend to do that. I will leave it to Marta.”

“You’re joking,” Ransom scoffed. “Your Brazilian nurse? Are you insane?”

“No, I’m thinking straight for the first time in a while. And not just Marta. But Oliver too,” Harlan informed him. Ransom straightened at that, his eyes narrowing. Harlan gave him a wry smile, “Now, don’t you go trying to get clever about it either, Ransom. Oliver won’t be able to touch it until he’s 25 years old.” Ransom scoffed again, looking furious. “And to that point as well, Y/N will be in charge of it until then.”

Ransom’s eyes bugged incredulously, and he blurted, “Y/N?” He seemed more offended about this than hearing about Marta.

He shook his head, biting his cheeks. He was supposed to control her, not the other way around.

Stepping towards the desk, he demanded, “Just because she bakes you dinner every once in a while? She gets to have millions of dollars for that?” His voice was rising. “You don’t know what you’re doing. You really have lost your goddamn mind!”

“You do not get to tell me what I am going to do with my will!” Harlan said louder than he intended to.

Leaning forward, Ransom pointed at him threateningly, “I’m warning you—”

“You should be grateful,” Harlan cut him off.

“’Grateful’?” Ransom demanded. “Grateful? What about this should I be grateful about?”

“That your son will be taken care of,” Harlan told him firmly. “I’m only telling you because I do hold a special place for you, Ransom, but you need to do better by her. And consequently, be a father, a real one. Prove to me you love the family you have and grow it with purpose. I don’t plan on sharing this with anyone… they can figure it out after I am gone if things don’t change. You have an opportunity here—"

Ransom barked out a laugh, throwing his hands up. “I can’t with this. Look, when you’ve got your head screwed back on, I’ll be here to talk. Happy fucking birthday.”

Without another word, he turned on his heel, storming to the door. He threw it open, letting it hit the wall on his way out.

<><><>

Meg was cooing at Oliver, smiling as his eyes followed her. You adjusted him in your arms and asked, “Do you want to hold him?”

“Oh, su—”

“Get your shit,” Ransom ordered you, appearing out of nowhere, startling the two of you. “We’re leaving.”

He looked engulfed in fury and you knew better than to argue with him normally but like this was signing a death wish. But it was Harlan’s birthday, and you could not help yourself.

“But the cake and—”

“You don’t need cake, do you?” Ransom spat vehemently.

Heat quickly game to your cheeks and you closed your mouth, sinking into yourself at his insult. He always knew how to cut you the deepest. Meg though was another story.

“What the hell, you asshole—” she started to spit back at him.

“Shut the fuck up, Meg. Don’t you have some communist bullshit to go read about how you’re going to undermine the government?” Ransom snarled and snapped his fingers at you. “Y/N, what did I just tell you? Stop standing there looking stupid. Get Oliver’s shit and let’s go. I’ll be in the car, don’t make me wait.”

He turned on his heel, swiping his coat off the back of the chair by the door.

You swallowed sharply, trying to hold back tears as you made eye contact with Meg for a moment before averting your gaze, humiliated.

“What the fuck is up his ass?” Meg muttered, staring in anger at where he had disappeared.

You managed a shrug as you began walking towards the door where Oliver’s car seat was waiting. She told you she would get him buckled up if you wanted to go say goodbye to everyone. You shook your head, not trusting yourself to not look like a mess, nervous about how Ransom was going to be for the rest of the night.

The car ride home was unpleasant. He was silent but you could tell he was fuming. And he kept stealing angry glances your way and you could not for the life of you figure out what you had done.

When you did get home, he hit the scotch, making a stiff one as soon as he got through the door practically and you made yourself scarce. You planned to steer clear of him as much as you could knowing his bad mood was only going to be exacerbated by the alcohol.

The TV echoed from downstairs, he was not watching it quietly. You swore under your breath, as Oliver babbled softly. He had been sleeping so soundly in the car and had woken up to the loud noise downstairs. It took awhile to get him back to sleep and when he finally did, you laid him down gently and left the room as quiet as you possibly could, closing the door. You waited a few seconds and did not hear him cry out, much to your relief.

Going to the bedroom, you got ready for bed, hoping to fall asleep quickly because Oliver had a habit of waking up around 4:00am.

Just as you had turned off your bedside lamp, you heard a creak. Turning, you saw Ransom’s silhouette was in the doorway, illuminated from the hall light. The TV was still on downstairs and you hoped he was only up here to change and would leave again without unleashing any more beratement on you. You still could not figure out what you had done that had made him so upset with you. There was usually something. You wore the wrong type of dress, cooked something he was not in the mood for, came too quickly…

He stalked into the room coming to your side of the bed and the hope he was going to leave you alone was quickly fading. He reached out and turned on your lamp again, staring down at you. You could see he was drunk; you knew the signs in his eyes.

“Are you coming to bed?” you asked him calmly.

His smile was unkind. “Oh, yes. Dear wife. I am coming to bed.” Just as quickly as it had appeared, his smile fell and he ordered you, “Take that stupid thing off.” You stammered and he asked annoyed, “Am I going to have to rip it off of you?”

Quickly, you pulled the nightgown off, sitting naked on the edge of the bed as he undressed himself, kicking his clothes off to the side. He was already getting hard, to your surprise considering how much he must have imbibed by the smell of his breath. Before he even had to ask, you laid back, your fingers at your sex. You tried to relax as your fingers worked, trying to will yourself to start to get wet.

Ransom’s gripped your thighs and yanked you across the bed towards him. “No, on your hands and knees,” he growled, half tossing you over in a fluid motion.

You did the rest of it for him, shook by his aggressiveness. You mourned prematurely for your pussy, knowing you were going to be sore tomorrow; you just knew sitting was going to be uncomfortable.

Behind you, as your fingers sunk into your sex, you could hear Ransom digging around in your bedside table. You only stalled for a second in your rubbing when you heard the unmistakable sound of one of your vibrators. He slapped your hand away and it fell back to the bed for you to rest your head on as he brought the toy to your clit. You moaned, fingers curling up in the comforter.

The pressure was building, and you begged, “Ransom, please…”

He only responded with a hum of approval and then the vibrator was gone. You had a split second to pout before he slapped your swollen pussy. You jolted, wincing at the sharp sting. His cock slipped in, his hand pressing down on the small of your back. His thrusts were deep and steady, groaning at the tightness.

Ransom’s hand clamped down on your jaw, turning your face to look at him forcibly. You gasped in surprise when he spit in your face, burying himself hilt deep. His hand moved up, wiping the spit all over your face roughly.

“You’re gonna cum all over my dick,” he rasped, slowly rolling his hips. You groaned, full of him. “Aren’t you?” You nodded feverishly and he smiled in response. “Can’t fucking help yourself.”

Ransom pulled out, snapping, “On your back.” Your calves rested on his shoulders, his fingers digging into the front of your thighs as he resumed his thrusting, jolting you against the bed. You keened, his cock brushing your g spot so easily in this position.

“Look at you…” he husked. “A dirty little whore. Say it!”

“I’m your dirty little whore,” you gasped back to him.

His eyes practically rolled back into his head. “Yeah, that’s all you are,” Ransom groaned in pleasure. “A filthy little skank. Mine. Mine…”

Trailing off, Ransom bit at his bottom lip as his thrusts became quick and shallow. It was too much, pushing you over the edge, much to his pleasure. You saw stars and your legs quivered and you heard him encourage you, a new slew of degrading names falling from his lips.

Your legs were held up by his hand as he stared down at your pussy, his eyes still hooded with arousal. You could feel his seed inside you – he always finished inside.

“That won’t do,” he murmured. His fingers ran up, wiping the cum dripping out of you and he shoved his fingers back in. “There we go… don’t want to waste a drop. Let’s make sure his little. fucking. favorite,” he grated out every word, his fingers pushing in deep and you clenched around him, biting your bottom lip as your high wore off. He was not being gentle. “Gives us another little bun in the oven to fawn over.”

Why was he talking in third person? You did not dare ask.

“You’re going to act happy, Y/N. You’re going to be happy. You’re going to fucking smile. You’re going to fucking love me, adore me. And everyone’s going to believe it,” Ransom snarled at you, his breath ragged. “That fucking clear? No more of this kicked puppy routine you fucking do. Especially when it seems I’m not there. I won’t have it. Not anymore. We are going to have a perfect little family from now on.”

“I—”

“Don’t fucking argue with me,” he said dangerously. “I said, ‘is that clear’? Just nod your head. It’s not that hard, Y/N.” You nodded silently and he clipped, “Good. You better shape up quick. I’m going to fuck you every night until you’re giving me another son.” His fingers slowed, his thumb rubbing your abused clit and you hissed. He smiled at the reaction and he gave it a little pinch, drawing a pathetic whimper out of you. “Yeah, you’re going to do exactly as I tell you. Such a good girl.”

He gave you a rough kiss and husked, “Don’t mistake me being nice to you outside these walls as anything other than it being my turn to put on a show.”

~~~

Tags: @coconutqueen21 

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale fic #knives out fic #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale #my shit

[dclsbaby]

mykonos-crossed lovers (part iv) 🦋

🎶playlist for part iv

prologue

part i

part ii

part iii

Summary: When you drunkenly book a girls trip to a tropical Greek island to help mend your broken heart, you would never for a second think it will take you exactly to where he is. Him. A tale of the right person at the wrong time, an overused cliché made into plots of movies you never thought would live through in your reality. Two people, still madly in love with each other, hearts still broken, suppressed by the alcohol and distractions consumed on this trip. Will they let their egos get in the way, protect what’s left of their already broken hearts, or will let their hearts speak?

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: smut smut smutty smut this is dirty AF please read at your own discretion

Author’s Note: to all my lovely babies thank you so much for being so patient with me as I endure one of the toughest months of my life. the reason why it had taken me so long to write was because i had uni and my mental health was at an all time low, so thank you a thousand times over to those who’ve written me to check up on how i was doing, it truly means the world 😭 after completing part 4, i felt like dom and (y/n)’s love story isn’t over yet, so a sequel is definitely something I’m considering, let me know if you would like to see that! I hope you enjoy part 4, and thank you to everyone who’s written me so many lovely things about my very first fic. i love u i love u i love u 🤍🤍🤍 xxx

Gif:

***

***

***

“She said no mate. Get the fuck away from her,” Dom interjects. You look up to him with thankful eyes. “And who the hell are you? Her boyfriend?” the blonde responds. Brave, Dom thought. “Fuck off,” he steps in front of you, allowing you to hide behind his tall and strong figure. After all this time, protecting you is still an instinct he has yet to unlearn. “You’ve got two seconds to get out of my sight, or you will get hurt,” Dom sternly says, emphasising every syllable. “Fine! Chill out mate I’m gone,” the blonde quickly retreats.

You exhale a sigh of relief, feeling grateful for the man who has brought you comfort so many times in the past. “Hey, are you okay? I’m here, I’ve got you,” says Dom as he embraces you in a hug. He rests his chin on top of your head and holds your head with one hand, and wraps his other arm around your body. You were terrified of that creepy man, you were confused from the alcohol, the lack of control is sending you into a haywire, so you are glad to be in the presence of someone familiar. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” he repeats as he tries to calm your shaking body. “Thank you,” you say as you look up to him with teary eyes, with the palm of your hand on his chest, as you once again, break his heart all over again.

After a long embrace, you pull away, leaving him feeling empty.

“Let me take you home yeah?” asked Dom, and you nodded without much thought. You two make a quiet exit as he guides you out of the club, his hand on yours as you move past sweaty bodies, careful not to bump into anyone. Dom was a little drunk too, but he knew had to take care of you.

When you made it outside, you let go of his hand, a little too early for Dom’s liking. The affection, the touch were all too familiar to him, a crave he never thought he had until you let go. It was as if a simple touch had countered all efforts to move on.

You give him your address and he calls on a taxi for your two. He texts his friends as well as yours, letting them know what had happened and why it was best for you to call it a night.

Take care of her mate.

Thanks for letting us know, be safe on the way back. We’ve got her purse

***

The taxi didn’t take too long to come, and you quickly hopped into the car, followed by Dom, and gave your address. You sat by the window and leaned your head on the window screen, your fingers laced between each other as you rested them on your thighs. Dom wanted nothing more than to hold your hand, make you feel safe, to be your rock. That’s all he ever wanted in your relationship, be given the chance to be there for you. All the pent-up anger and frustration he had over you for breaking his heart dissipates. As much as it would have been a lot easier to move on with anger, he can no longer suppress his feelings for you.

Despite his desperation to hold you, he decided against holding your hand, and stayed within boundaries. He didn’t want to overwhelm you after the night you’ve had. You kept your eyes closed the entire ride back, occasionally opening your eyes to remind yourself of where you are. Dom notices this, and keenly listens to your soft breathing, and watches your chest rise.

Minutes later, you arrived back in your villa. “Hey,” he touches your arm softly. “We’re here,” he quietly says, careful not to surprise you. You slowly open your eyes, still feeling a bit delirious. It’s the same face you would make when he used to gently wake you up to say goodbye before he leaves for training, he thought.

“How long was the ride?” you ask, discombobulated, as you rub your eyes, smudging the last bit of mascara you have on. “Not long enough,” he mutters, wishing he had more time with you.

Still a bit tipsy, Dom helps you step off the taxi. You carefully place your foot down, cautious to not have your heel stuck between the concrete, and make your way towards your villa.

“You coming in then?” you ask as you turn to face Dom. “I wasn’t sure you wanted me to come in,” he replies as he stood by where the taxi was. “Don’t be silly. It’s late,” you said, gesturing to him to come in.

You took out the house card that you’ve thankfully kept in your pocket, otherwise you’d be locked out. As you step into the villa, you make your way to the wooden bench by the shoe rack to take off your strappy heels. After fumbling with the straps too much, you grew frustrated as you were just too drunk to figure out how to take them off.

“I’ll help you,” Dom says as he kneels in front of you to remove your painfully annoying heels. He gently grips the back of your calf with one hand, and carefully tug on the straps of your heels with his free hand. His touch sent goosebumps throughout your legs that you hoped he did not notice. “I’ve always liked these heels,” he comments. “Mmhm,” you gave him a smile, remembering all the times he’s taken those heels off you.

“Let’s get you some water eh,” he guides you to the kitchen. You follow Dom’s lead and plants yourself on the kitchen island. He asks you where the glasses are and takes two for you and him. “Thank you,” you look at him. “For taking me home.. and for getting rid of that guy,” you said. A reminder of the creepy man made him shudder, “Don’t mention it, please,” he says, a little too seriously, with two meanings. He did not want to be reminded of another man ever being close to you.

“I’m sorry again Dom, for everything—“ “—are you though?” he cuts you off, the last bit of alcohol in his system forcing him to speak his mind. “What?” you asked, a little taken aback. “Are you actually sorry?” Dom repeats himself. “Y-yes of course I am, how could you ask that?” you were surprised at his interruption.

“I don’t know, it seems everywhere I look, you’re there, and doing something that absolutely does my head in.” he says a little annoyed, and takes a sip of his water to calm his nerves. “Dom,” you sigh. “You know I didn’t leave you because I stopped loving you-“ “-Then why did you?!” his raised voice caught you off guard, almost slamming his glass on the counter.

“We have gone through this so many times! I’ve given you every reason I have to make this easier for the both of us!” you replied with frustration. Dom reacts with a surprised face, eyebrows furrowed, shaking his head. “The both of us? Nothing you’ve said has made it easier for me, so don’t ever try to speak on my behalf,” he says with offense.

You look away whilst shaking your head. “I honestly can’t do this right now Dom,” you place your hands on your hips. “I’m exhausted, totally worn out, this, us,” you point your index finger to yourself and him. “Seeing you on this trip, talking to you for the first time in months,” you sigh, “it’s all too fucking much,” you said exasperated. “I’m going to bed, there are plenty of guest bedrooms, feel free to find yourself one,” you say as you hop off the island.

“No,” Dom says, almost a demand. He pulls you back in front of him and pins you against the counter. “We are not done talking,” he lifts you and places you back onto the counter.

He is standing between your legs, with the palm of his hands on the island, palms planted next to either side of your thighs.

“I’m done fucking about, (Y/N),” he stares into your eyes. “You know how I feel about you. Tell me you don’t want me, and I’ll leave you alone,” he breathes by your face. “Once and for all,” says Dom as he gives you an ultimatum you never expected.

Dom is breathing heavily, and you could see his chest rise with every breath he takes. The tension between you two was so strong, it could be cut with a knife. You stare into his eyes as you decide on what to say. Those green, almost hazel, beautiful eyes you miss waking up to every morning, eyes once sparkly and full of life now replaced with dark, lustful ones. His pink, flushed lips from the alcohol subtly quivering in anticipation of your response. You are left speechless by his ultimatum.

Against your better instincts, you take his face in your hands and desperately kiss his lips.

To your surprise he kisses you back, with so much passion that it’s borderline aggression, and wraps his arms around your waist. His desperate arms crawl itself from your waist to your back, then your neck, pushing the back of it so he could feel your lips better. The familiar warmth of his lips sends a thrill down your spine, a feeling you have missed for the longest time. He lets go of you for a second to grab your ass and pull your body closer to his, which you responded by wrapping your legs around his waist, lifting your skirt up in the process. You quickly unbutton the first two buttons of his shirt, eager to see more of him. Taking the hint, Dom rips his shirt open, buttons flying everywhere but that is that last thing on his mind right now.

He takes your face in his hands and presses his forehead against yours. “Tell me to stop and I will,” he says as he goes to plant kisses on your neck, down your shoulders and collarbones, pressing his lips against yours once again. “Tell me you want this as much as I do,” he breathes by your mouth. “Tell me you want me,” he asks from you. You sigh at the pleasure you didn’t think you’d ever feel again. You missed this. You missed him.

“I want you,” you hastily say to him, looking at his lips and then deep into his lustful yet loving eyes.

After your last syllable he kisses you again, more aggressively this time, and lifts your body up to pull your skirt off you. You help him unbutton his pants and feel butterflies in the pit of your stomach at the sight of him.

You and Dom move in sync, in the same rhythm, on the same wavelength. It was as if no time had gone by. The bond you have with him is one in a million and cannot be replicated with anyone else. A connection so deep it’s a blessing and a curse, with so much happiness can occur so much pain.

You desperately try to quench your thirst for one another by exploring each other's bodies, after what feels like a lifetime apart. Hands everywhere, limbs entangled, your face on his. He’s wanted this for so long. Dom has dreamt of what it would be like to be intertwined with you again. Though then it was a nightmare, as he would wake up to an empty bed. Even his subconscious wants you.

“Are you, you know?” you ask, hinting to an obvious question. “I haven’t been with anyone else,” he looks at you in the eye. You nod at him, saying “I believe you,” through your eyes, which he received. His admission got you more excited for what’s to come.

Dom pushes your bodysuit fabric to the side, and inserts a finger in you, causing you to gasp. You try to hide your muffled moans, not wanting to give him the satisfaction that early. “Wet for me already?” he smirks as he pumps himself. Unflattered by his comment, you decide to tease him a little.

“How about I go back to the club and find that blonde again?” you threaten him. “Nah, fuck that,” he says angrily, pushing himself inside you without warning. You let out a deep sigh as you roll your eyes at the pain and pleasure. “Holy shit,” you curse at his size, still needing to adjust to the fullness. “Tell me if I’m hurting you baby,” he whispers in your ear before planting a kiss on your neck. “Keep going,” you say as you wrap your arms around his neck for support.

He slowly pulls out and pushes back into you several times, before pulling out of you completely, leaving you frustrated at the cold emptiness. He quickly thrusts himself back inside you in a quick pace, his tip hitting your core in one go. “Fucking hell,” he whimpers.

He has never felt anything as good as you, your warmth, your tightness around him, nothing could ever replicate that. His pace quickens by the second, leaving you a moaning mess. “Look at me baby,” he growls, yearning to see your face as you’re pleasured by him. The sight of you looking up at him with your eyebrows furrowed, mouth shaped an ‘o’, your chest rising, the sounds of slapping skins nearly made him finish. But that man has the stamina of a machine, and has self-control like no other, except when it comes to you. It takes every inch of him to make this moment last.

Craving to see more of you, he pulls your bodysuit strap and yanks the fabric down, revealing your breasts. Dom has always been good with his hands, he knows how to fuck you, make out with you, and play with your breasts at the same time. Desperate to feel every inch of you, he lifts your leg and rests it on his shoulder and holds your waist to push you into him as he takes control of the rhythm.

“Oh, fuck!” you moan at the change of position as you feel him hit your spot with every beat. “You feel so good baby,” he whimpers in your ear, turning you on even more and pushing you towards a high. You two are a whimpering mess, bodies intertwined, hungry for each other. A strand of his curls hangs out of Dom’s tied hair, occasionally sticking on his glistening forehead.

“Fuck baby, I’m not going to last much longer,” he says as he cranes his neck down to look at himself thrusting in and out of you. “Me too,” you whimper out. Dom’s pace gets sloppy as he is losing control. “Baby I’m gonna cum,” he cries out. “I’m on the pill,” you said. His eyes widened. “So I can-” “-yeah,” you quickly replied. “Fuck, okay,” the thought of spilling himself in you pushed him to a climax. “Shit, baby!” he releases himself in you. You gasp as you feel his juices shoot into the walls of your core. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he repeats himself as he rests his forehead on your collarbone. “Cum for me baby,” he whispers in your ear as cum is still spilling in you. “I’m gonna—fuck!”, you moan and grip his biceps for support as you crane your neck back and roll your eyes and join his high. As you both catch your breaths, he rests his forehead on yours, planting a lasting kiss on your lips, then your forehead. You stay breathing on one another for a short while.

“Holy--fucking--shit, that was-” “I know”, you cut him off. Dom slowly pulls himself out of you, which made you jump at the sudden cold emptiness. He watches his cum ooze its way out of you and trail down your thighs. “Fuck me that’s one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen,” he says in awe. “Think I just did,” you joke, earning a chuckle from Dom. He has been wanting this for so long, to hold you, feel you, and have you in his arms again. You have been longing for a touch you have missed, an emptiness you have yearned to fill.

“I would never have thought I’d be taking you on the kitchen counter on this trip, considering the circumstances,” he smirked. You raise your eyebrows in confusion, signalling him to elaborate. “I mean I knew I’d be fucking you, but somewhere normal,” he laughs as he picks up your clothes and his off the floor.

“Are you saying that I’m easy?” you asked rather annoyed, crossing your arms at what he said. “No!”, he quickly says, afraid to be misunderstood. “I meant, I’m here, on this island because of you, I planned this trip for us,” he paused.

“Remember when I showed you our plans for the summer months ago? When we were, you know, still together?” he asked. You nodded, feeling slightly guilty. “Well, I booked it that same night,” he adds. “What do you mean?” you asked confused. “When we broke up, I tried to cancel the trip, but the travel agency wouldn’t give me a refund, so I brought the boys along and called it a lads trip instead,” he replied. “Oh, I, I didn’t know you had actually planned a trip for us,” you said, looking up at him with remorseful eyes. “I wanted to surprise you, you know. We’ve both never been, and I wanted to make it special for you,” he says, giving you a smile which you matched, apologetically.

“Look babe, I know this probably isn’t the right time to bring this up, considering I’ve just fucked you on the counter and it reeks of sex in here,” he says as you roll your eyes and chuckle at the innuendo. “But if tonight has taught me anything, if this entire, petrifyingly coincidental circumstance of seeing you in Mykonos has taught me anything, is that fate wants us to be together,” he pulls and kisses your hand. You pull his hand away to tug on his loose curly strand. “I don’t want to spend another second without you by my side, I am so madly in love with you,” he reveals and mimics you as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ears. “I don’t think I ever stopped,” he looked back into your eyes.

“Are you sure?” you ask, looking away. “You seemed like you hated me when you first saw me again,” you shrugged. Dom’s demeanour changed a little bit, looking almost guilty. “I never hated you, granted, I probably wanted to. It’s much easier to pretend than to face reality, you know?” he asks. You knew, of course you knew. You did the same thing. “But it’s impossible to forget you, I’ve tried everything, and I mean everything to get you out of my head. Some things I admit, I’m not proud of, but I’ve never felt pain like that before, I didn't know how to cope,” he confesses. You look at him once more before looking down on your hands.

“Baby,” he takes your hands in his, “will you come home with me?” he pleads. Your body jolts at his request. “I will give you all the space in the world if you ever need it, support you in every step of the way and will only help you if you ask me,” he cups your face with his hands. “Just please, give me the chance to be there for you. I’m not asking you to need me, but let me be there, please,” he places a hand on your cheek. “I love you,” he adds. Your heart bursts at his confession. You responded by planting a deep kiss on his lips. “I love you,” you said as you caressed his hand on your face. “I’ll come home.”

***

By dawn, you’re showered, cleansed from the events of last night, tucked in bed with the love of your life. A case of the “right person at the wrong time”, resolved, as Dom breathes down your neck, holding you close to him with his arms around you, occasionally pressing kisses to your neck. To him, the one that got away came back, the empty space he had been forced to get used to was replaced by your body pressed against his. Dom steals a smell of your sweet-scented hair, reminding himself that this is his reality, and he no longer has to pretend.

A tale of star-crossed lovers reunite on a blue night in Mykonos, on a tropical escape meant to erase every trace of one another in their hearts and minds, only to bring them back into each other's arms.

***

#dominic calvert lewin #dominic calvert lewin imagine #dominic calvert lewin imagines #football imagine #football fanfiction #mclfic

[lacontroller1991]

Yes, Sensei (Johnny Lawrence x Reader)

Author’s Note: Very based on this whole scene. Wish it wasn’t Tv14 if you know what I mean. Also Johnny has a sensei kink, also dirty talk. He loves Dirty talk.

SMUT SMUT SMUT in which you tease Johnny and he fucks you senseless against the karate mat in his gi. Please don’t read unless 18+. Under the cut

SMUT 18+ : Dirty talk, slight choking, baby girl kink, basically this is the most filthy thing I’ve written, but this is how I would imagine screwing Johnny soooo

Tensions had been high between you and Johnny. Although his alcoholism was getting better and he wasn’t drinking as much as he previously had, he still ticked you off to no end, which is why you are currently walking into his dojo where he had spent more time at than home now days. You and Johnny had been dating on and off for the past 6 years and every time it would end the same, him getting shit faced and then saying something mean and you leaving in a fury of tears and anger. Tonight was no different. You were sick and tired of him coming home late hours and never giving you an explanation, which led to you thinking he was cheating on you, which is why you were about to confront him.

Walking straight into his office, he quickly stood up and smiled, welcoming you with open arms, which you refused.

“Are you cheating on me?” You asked stone faced as he looked at you in curiosity.

“No? Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know, Johnny. What other explanation would I have for a boyfriend who doesn't even come home at night anymore, except when he’s drunk,” you spat out as his smile turned into a frown and anger filled his veins.

“Is that what you really think that I do when I am not at home with you? Cheat on you?”

“What else could it be? You don’t ever tell me where you’re going, nor what you’re doing, and then you’re always coming in at absurd hours. I’m tired of it!” You raised your voice as he picked you up on his shoulders and carried you to the middle of the mat, setting you down on it.

“What are you doing?” You asked as he locked the door and closed the blinds, approaching you like a predator.

“We are going to spar this out,” he smirked as you rolled your eyes.

“You know I don’t like spar...” your words were cut short as his lips were on yours. Melting into the kiss, you tugged at the strands of hair on the back of his neck.

“I’m not talking about that, strip. Now.” He commanded with a smirk as you smiled deviously back, liking where this was going. 

“Yes, sensei,” you slurred as he groaned, growing hard at the name you called him, something he is only used to from his students. Moving to untie his belt, your hands stop him and you look up at him through your lashes before leaning up to him.

“The gi stays on,” you whispered into his ear, gently biting the cartilage as he groaned, palming himself through his pants.

“As you wish, princess,” he growled before topping you and attacking your neck, biting the soft spot, causing you to let out a moan, growing wet from having his bulge press against your bare leg. Gaining the strength, you pushed him off of you before straddling him.

“I’m in control tonight. You need to be taught a lesson, sensei.”

“And what lesson might that be.”

“Coming home early, you’d be getting this every night,” you purred as you rocked your hips against his, creating the friction both of you were craving. His hands roamed to your ass, grabbing it as he bent his head down, sucking on a hard nipple, causing you to throw your head back in passion.

“Johnny, oh my...”

“Sensei.”

“Johnny,” you challenged him as he growled at you before pushing you back on the mat and trapping your hands in one of his above your head, using the other to tug his pants down slightly and moving your underwear to the side.

“Say it,” he demanded, teasing your opening with the tip of his swollen cock, rubbing it against your folds.

“Johnny, please,” you begged as he bit your breast, surely leaving a mark there.

“No, try again baby girl.”

“Sensei, please.”

“Please what? Baby,” he smirked down at you as your eyes rolled back from lack of friction. “Sensei, I need you to fuck me. NOW,” you demanded as he smirked to himself before pushing his cock inside of you.

“Christ, you’re so tight. You take my cock so good, don’t you baby girl.”

“Yes sensei,” you stuttered as you took one of his hands and gently placed it against your throat, his eyes immediately looked at yours for confirmation but all you could do was nod. Tightening his grip, he snapped his hips back into you at a fast pace, enjoying watching you gasping for air and having your eyes roll back into your head. 

“You’re such a good girl, taking my cock so well. I’m so close baby girl,” he groaned as his thrusts became sloppy and he moved his other hand to start rubbing your clit, bringing your orgasm on.

“Sensei, I’m close,” you managed to stutter out as he continued his pace before letting out a loud groan and coming inside of you, coating your walls with his semen, suddenly you snapped and you came after him. Releasing the hold on your neck, Johnny collapsed next to you and pulled you into his side.

“In all seriousness though, Johnny, please come home earlier. I really miss you,” you whispered into his side, leaving little kisses against his chest as he chuckled lightly, rubbing circles on your back with his thumb.

“Alright, I will. I promise, now let’s move this to the office. I’m not done with you.” 

“Yes sensei.”

THE FILTHIEST THING I HAVE WRITTEN... I am obsessed 😶

#johnny lawrence #Johnny Lawrence x reader #cobra kai #the karate kid #william zabka #Female reader #reader #lacontroller1991

[commanderserwin]

starting over again.

↦ pairing(s): erwin smith x reader

↦ word count: 4.3k

↦ anon request: 

I just wanna say that I really appreciate your writing!!! I love how you put in little details that just ties the whole story. I hope you're well! (If it's okay and not too much work on you, i'd like to request a scenario of Erwin x reader where they fight and then make up later on. You can make it modern au or canon. I am crushing HARD on Erwin lol)

↦ genre(s): modern AU

↦ author’s note(s): anon, i love u. the little details turned into a couple thousand words and here we are! i appreciate you and i hope you’re well too! ♡ 

ps. enjoy! enjoy! [i had too much fun with this ahh!!!] hope you like it, my anon! sorry to keep you waiting! [starting to think u wanted a different fight & make-up, but this is is what my brain will offer, mwa!]

╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾

“It’s a text.” 

“Is it that hard to send one?”

“Why do I even have to?”

“So that I could have a basic idea of where you are?”

“God, we have been together for years.” 

“I’m only asking you to text me about your whereabouts.” 

Both of you sat at the opposite ends of the couch, staring ahead at the idle television that’s playing a romantic movie— a complete opposite of what is happening. The actors kissed passionately, while you ached for that with him. Because lately, things have been piling up, and up, just waiting for it to all spill until both of you are drowning in unspoken problems. You reached for the remote on the coffee table, shutting down the television to get rid of the jealousy that’s pooling at your stomach. 

“I thought we’re watching the movie,” Erwin asked, uncrossing his arms as he reached for the remote on your hand. 

“You do that,” you said, clicking the on button as you dropped remote on the couch. “I’m going to bed.” 

“Are you tired?”

You could only look at him with wishful eyes, hoping that the years together he could finally see right through your emotions. Tired, physically. Tired, mentally. Tired, of this relationship. 

“Yes,” you scoffed, walking towards the bedroom as you peeked through your eyes that Erwin got more comfortable in the couch. 

Can’t you reach after me? 

Can’t you read me?

Can you whip me around like that stupid romantic scene from the stupid romantic movie that both of you were suppose to watch?

The bed feels lonelier and colder now that he isn’t here. The gap between the two of you have drifted into something larger than even the tips of your fingers and his couldn’t brush anymore. It isn’t there anymore, the emptiness in your heart, the exhaustion of trying to keep everything in check, trying to make everything work because you wanted to hold on to him. 

He keeps you afloat, but at the same time, it’s him who makes you feel underwater. 

Then it repeats. 

Erwin would pad towards the bedroom, his hand hovering over the knob, hesitating if he should sleep with you. He could feel you. He could feel the drought. He could feel the spark fading, even when he tries to keep it alight. He doesn’t know where it went wrong, where it started to fade, where it started to fade into nothing. 

He opened the bedroom that he shares with you, his eyes going over your body that was huddled on the opposite side. When it first started, both of you would huddle in the middle; arms wrapped around each other, legs tangled together, hearts beating together— and now. The distance is as wide as it can be. The bed dipped under his weight, his back turned on you, as he cradled his head on his hands. 

Erwin gently retreats to his side, laying down as he stares at the ceiling. He turned to face you, seeing your silhouette against the dimmed light, he watched your chest rise up and down, sleeping peacefully. He wanted to touch you, graze his fingers on your skin, feel you... and he reached out. 

Then he pulled away his hand. 

He heard you sniffle. 

Erwin closed his eyes, turning to his side, facing the wall, until the bed shook from your quiet cries. 

╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾

In the morning, Erwin would only squeeze your shoulder in passing as he leaves earlier for work. 

In the afternoon, Erwin would look at his phone, waiting. His eyes glances over at the computer screen in front of him, then at his phone. 

In the evening, Erwin slowly turns the knob over to enter the apartment. It’s empty. 

Tonight, the lights are all off as he glanced over at the wall. The clock displayed its hands at 8:00PM, only a few minutes earlier than he would usually be home. You should be too. 

He walked towards the kitchen, finding it empty. 

He walked towards the bedroom, finding it empty. 

He walked towards every door that he could open, finding it empty. 

Erwin waited by the couch, his eyes drooping at every minute that passes. Not even the loud action movie could make him open his eyes. His eyes looked back at the clock, 12:00, and he looked at his phone. 

No messages. 

No calls. 

He threw it on the other side of the couch, confusion settling in his chest. If this was your way of payback, it was immature. 

You know it was immature. 

That’s why Hanji kept glancing at her watch, her eyes going back and forth as she leaned in closer, the immediate smell of alcohol seeping through your mouth as you turned around. Even Levi scrunched his nose when you spoke. 

“I think it’s time to head home?”

Hanji asked, placing the coat around your shoulders as her hand pulled you up, but you stayed glued. 

“I’ll call Erwin,” Levi muttered, hand going to his phone. 

“No!” 

Both of them looked at you, your eyes shot and puffy. 

“Don’t.”

“Babe, it’s one in the morning,” Hanji cooed, showing you the time on your phone. “You’ve got work.”

“I can call out,” you muttered, hand going up to the bartender. 

“She isn’t having any,” Levi said, rummaging through your purse for your credit card. “Just the bill.”

“I don’t want to go home.”

“You have to.”

“I don’t want to.” 

“Just talk to Erwin,” Levi sighed, placing the card back in your purse. 

“I hope it’s that easy.” 

“Who said it’ll be easy?” Hanji whispered, leaning her head on your shoulder as you began to cry again. 

You have been crying for almost an hour, tears drying and pouring again at every mention of Erwin. In the end, they coerced you to get into the car while Levi drove and Hanji stayed in the back of the car, holding your hand as you sniffled. It was the car ride of your life that you were terrified of getting off. 

It’s the constant fight in your heart that makes you want to let go and yet you find yourself scrambling to hold on to the thread that’s keeping the both of you tied. Maybe you were afraid of breaking it off, maybe you were afraid of growing without him, maybe you were afraid of losing him. Maybe it is time to let go, but you haven’t got the strength to do it, because at the end of your grey thoughts; he is the one standing there, waiting for you. 

It was your turn for your hand to hover on the knob. It was your turn to be at Erwin’s shoes, hesitant, apprehensive, as you enveloped the bright lights from the living room. 

There he was. 

“Where have you been?”

Erwin lowered the volume of the television because he can’t bear of only hearing your voice and his to be heard in the room. 

“Just out, had a couple of drinks.” 

“It’s one in the morning.” 

You look up at his blue eyes, not knowing that he now stood in front of you. 

“You could’ve texted me.” Erwin pressed.

“Hah,” you huffed, pulling away from his hand as you wobbly walked towards the kitchen for a nice glass of water. You can’t be near him or else you’ll break down. 

“Is this about yesterday?”

“No.”

He stayed in the living room, watching you gulp down the water. You haven’t turned your back on him, your eyes away as you stared at the kitchen wall. Fitting how Erwin kept little small printed pictures of the two of you, and you’re directly looking at it. A nice coffee date by the park. His eyes glued to yours, as you looked at the camera.

“Then what is this about?”

“Let it go,” you muttered, gripping the glass. 

You finally turned around, staring at Erwin from a couple of feet away. 

“I can’t just let it go.” 

“Erwin, please,” you sighed, rubbing your eyes. Please don’t cry, you thought. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.” 

“No,” he said, grasping you by the wrist as you tried to pass by him. He isn’t going to bed like this. “Let’s talk about this.” 

“There’s nothing to talk about.” 

“Don’t lie to me.” 

You finally stared at his blue eyes, usually finding comfort in them but all you could see was confusion painted. Anger. Betrayal. 

You wanted to talk, but you're so scared of what it result in. Of the words that could be said, because you wanted to lie beside him just one last time- or forever, but you are so scared. 

"Can we go to bed?" You whispered, breathing hard until you could turn away. "I'm tired, please."

"I heard you crying last night," Erwin said, his eyes looking right at you. His grip softened when your lips quivered as you rubbed your eyes with the other hand. "Why?"

"Because."

"Because what?" Erwin pressed, pulling you to him until you moved a little closer to him. 

"Because!" Your voice cracked, pushing him away until you sat on the couch, your hands wet from the way your eyes finally poured their emotions. 

Eriwn watch you cry, your shoulders shaking in every breath that you take, your palms wet as you cried into them for minutes. He couldn't help but tear up, finally realizing what this is about. He doesn't want to come to this, but here you are. He let his own tears fall as he watched you, his chest rising up and down as his mind clouded with the only thought he doesn't want to think about. 

The drought. 

The unspeakable— but it's time to finally voice it out. 

"Let's break up." 

"What?" You sniffled, wiping away your own tears as you whipped your head to him. He let his tears fall, as he stared. 

"Let's break up," Erwin whispered, sitting down on the opposite side of the couch. He stared ahead on the television, finding comfort on the action scenes. "Because this isn't working out. You know it. I do, too."

"Erwin..."

"I'm right, aren't I?" He turned his face to you. His emotions have swam to the ends, feeling nothing as he stared. Until he drowns the all out. 

Second turn into seconds turns into minutes. Nobody spoke. Nobody made a move. 

Your heart stopping as if this is it. It's ending. 

"I don't know where we went wrong," you whispered, wiping your tears away. 

"Me too," Erwin agreed, nibbling on his lip. He looked away, chuckling dryly, "We had a good run."

A knife to the heart. 

Erwin walked to the door, putting on his shoes as you stood, peeking behind him. You tug on his shirt, making him look at you. 

"Where are you going?"

Was it suppose to end like this? It isn't suppose to end like this? The two of you were supposed to work things out, give it a little push, holding on to it until the light is there, until you could see where he was. Not like this. Love is supposed to be like this— the sparks, then here comes the drought. 

Love has to be fixed. Love has to be tended. Love has to be thought thoroughly. He keeps you afloat, and little did you know, you did that to him. 

He wants to pull you to him, keep you close. It's painful, it's hard, but love is like this. But he is willing to push himself away if you weren't going to catch him. 

All of thoughts of breaking up became a blur to him, when he looked at you. He doesn't want to end it. He doesn't want to be away from you. But if this is where the relationship lies, then he'll accept it. All good things comes to an end. Even if he wants to fight tooth and nail to the very ened, but if you don't want it, then what's the use? 

"Where are you going?" You asked again. Don't leave, you thought. 

"Levi's," he answered, eyes flitting towards yours. "I'll get my things tomorrow." 

"Don't go," you quietly said, runching up his shirt that's in your hand. He wrapped his hand over it, softly prying it away as he counted to himself that this is it. 

You wrapped your finger around his pinky, throat dry, as you said it again. "Don't go." 

Erwin smiled softly, placing his hand over your cheek as he leaned down to kiss your forehead. "You should go to sleep."

╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾

He couldn't sleep. He couldn't eat. He couldn't focus on anything. He couldn't think straight. Always you, you, you. Levi has to drag him off of the bed, ushering him to go to work. 

"Get up!" Levi pinched his ear, making him blindly punch Levi.

"No," Erwin groaned. 

"It's been a day!"

"Shut up."

"God, you two can't be away from each other."

"We broke up!"

"Like that could happen," Levi groaned, punching Erwin on the arm. "You kept crying about her, just fucking talk to her."

"Like it's that easy."

"No," he punched Erwin again. "Still talk to her. When I come back, I want you gone."

"Where am I going to stay then?"

"Back to your apartment!"

╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾

You couldn't sleep. You couldn't eat. You couldn't focus on anything. You couldn't think straight. Always him, him, him. Hanji has to drag you off of the bed, ushering you to go to work.

"Get up!" Hanji pinched your ear, making you swat away her fingers. 

"I don't want to."

"Stop being a baby!" Hanji pinched your ear again. "It's been a day, and here you are! Moping around!"

"We literally just broke up!"

"Yeah, yeah, okay," Hanji sighed, slapping your leg as she threw the blanket off. "Like that could happen."

"It literally just did." 

"Okay," Hanji groaned, raising her hands. "Whatever you say. Then we’ll see you two being back again."

"Pfft! Get out of my room!”

╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾

It's been weeks. 

The apartment still smells like him. His clothes neatly folded in his cabinet, his hoodies strewn in yours, his shoes by the door, his books on the bedside table, his toothbrush, his gel, his towel— everything that was his is still in the apartment. 

Its cruel, how it's just daunting you to touch it. 

The side of his bed, cold; and here you are, curled up on it like a wounded dog. Blanket covering your whole body, his pillows against cheek, as you squeezed it, wishing for it to be him. 

He colored your thoughts in fragments, often wondering how is he doing, is he eating, is he fine. All the questions that you have no answers. 

Suddenly, you found yourself scrambling underneath the blanket, throwing it off as you ran for the bathroom. 

One hour, or else you'll miss it.

The line in the coffeeshop is long, and yet you still find yourself falling in line for it. 

One black coffee, a croissant, and a cheese danish. Or just one croissant? Or just coffee? Fuck it, you bought it all. 

Walking towards the building, you grinned at the security guard as he let you in. It was just you in the elevator, and you took a second before clicking the 32nd floor as you balanced the treats on your arms. Your heart is pounding, making you feel dizzy as you leaned on the wall, making you even feel dizzier as it stopped at every floor. Finally, the doors opened. 

No sweat as the secretary opened the doors for you. 

The desk. Where is it?

Ah, yes. It's at the end cubicle, by the window. You walked slowly, dodging everybody as you carried yourself towards the desk. It was a long walk and it gave you ample time to prepare yourself for it. 

"What are you doing here?" Levi tapped on your shoulder, almost making you lose grip on the hot coffee. "Huh, I knew it."

"What?" Embarrassment glowing on your cheeks, as you tilted your head. "What do you mean?"

"You just missed him."

"I did?" 

"I knew you two wouldn't last a few weeks without each other."

"That's just mean, Levi," you whispered, as he led you back to the door. "I'm just... I wanted to see how he was doing."

"Yeah, okay," Levi mumbled, opening the paperbag with the bread. He grabbed one, and quickly munched on it. You could only scowl at him, as he pointed outside. "I don't know where he went, but you just missed him."

"You're no use to me, Levi."

"I'll text you when I ask him." 

A smile graced your lips as you pecked him on the cheek, waving your hand as you exited. Levi only took a bite, eyes pointing outside as he eventually called Hanji. 

╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾

"What are you doing here?" 

Erwin stopped in his tracks. He reluctantly turned around, carrying a latte and a cheese danish. He's sweating by the end as he skipped towards your building, but he failed to get around it, as Hanji only raised a brow. 

"I'm..." Erwin sighed defeatedly. He breathed hard as he leaned in to Hanji, "I'm visiting." 

"Lovebirds," Hanji sighed, rubbing her temples as she escorted Erwin to the door. "She isn't here."

"Her day-offs aren't until Saturday?" He asked, remembering that it was only Wednesday. 

"She called out," Hanji groaned, grabbing Erwin's arm as she clicked for the elevator. Her hand immediately rummaged through the paper bag but Erwin only raised it high. 

"Buy your own. It's for her," Erwin smiled, as she pushed her towards the open elevator. "Do you know where she is?"

"No," she breathed, fishing out her phone, "I'll text you if she answers."

The doors closed as he watched Hanji unlock her phone, and retreated inside their company floor. 

Erwin clenched his eyes closed, breathing deeply as he kept replaying that night. He regrets it with his full heart when he still let you go. He wants things back to what it was. Maybe a little better. 

╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾

The walk back to your building was disappointing. You thought it'll be best to just give it to Hanji as she drinks black coffee, but you opted to keep the cheese danish for yourself. Somewhat humiliating that Levi caught you snooping around Erwin's desk, then he wasn't there. It was just a big disappointed. You wished you didn't get off of that sad bed and just stayed there, wallowing. Daydreaming, heart-breaking— at least you weren't embarrassed. 

The elevator door opened, waiting for the people to get off. Once they were gone, you've got the elevator to yourself once again, your fingers reaching for the 23rd floor of your company. The whole bumpy elevator ride, you crossed your arms just waiting for it to stop just so you could give it to Hanji. 

You went through the floor, looking out for Hanji's desk. Immediately, you gently placed the coffee and bread while she gawked at you. 

"Close your mouth," you muttered, fixing your clothes. "Did the boss look for me?"

"What are you doing here?"

"If people ask me that one more time, I would go crazy," you pushed the food towards her. "For you." 

"You just missed him."

"Who?"

"Who?"

"Who!" You screeched, making you duck as people looked at you. 

"Erwin!" Hanji grabbed her phone, showing the text to you. "He literally went to find you."

Her hands slithered towards the coffee but you only swatted it away, grabbing it back. "That's for him." 

She only squinted her eyes at her, grabbing you by the arm as she pushes you to the elevator. "Out. Out. I'll text you where he is. All the nice phones you two have, and you can't text each other. Out!"

"Ouch," you moaned, pressing the elevator button as you waved at Hanji with a grimace. 

╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾

Standing outside the building, you watched all the people get on with their lives. You quickly thought of who was happy, sad, heart-broken like you. Did somebody else went to their ex-boyfriend's work to just chek up on him but then he wasn't there and they had to walk all the way to back feeling humiliated? Or did somebody else fell in line for the expensive coffee and a cheese danish that is meant for their ex-boyfriend? Anybody?

It was ridiculous. How heavy the breaking up is. All the emotions, tears, feelings, and the numbing pain that it came with it and it ends right here. Both of you looking for each other on opposite blocks, hoping to catch them. You wouldn't call it unneccessary because you grew. You grew in those last fews you've spent alone, trying to focus on yourself, at work, even if you were all puffy eyes every morning. Still, you grew. 

Just weeks of being alone, made you feel that it's okay to not be in a relationship. Keep your own self afloat. 

But it just bites you back in the ass because you wanted him. You looked for him. 

In the morning, even the squeezes on your shoulder as Erwin leaves for his work. 

In the afternoon, when you check your phone for anything, yet there was nothing. 

In the evening, where you'll turn the knob over to find him, busy with his movies. 

But in those mornings, he'd whisper an "I love you." 

But in those afternoons, he'd text you a sleeping emoji. 

But in those evenings, he'd have a warm plate of dinner waiting for you.

And it's normal for love not to be all sparkly. It's okay when it doesn't always makes you blush, it's okay if conversations turns into smaller nothings as both of you laugh away, it's okay if he only holds you in his sleep. You're finished with that falling in love phase. 

Both of you are in love already— familiar with the ups and downs, the silence, the years spent with each other dull or not, love is still there. 

Because in his mornings, he'd keep his eyes closed even if his alarm already rang, until he feels you stir awake, your lips kissing him on his shoulder as a "Good morning." 

Becuase in his afternoons, he'd receive a wacky picture of you, and he sets it as his background for a moment. 

Because in his evenings, he'd have a hot cup of decaf coffee by the kitchen. 

╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾

Erwin leaned on your company's building as he watched you. He made sure he was hidden as best as he could, grateful for the amount of people passing by. He watched you scowl and frown, and smile sadly as people passed by, harshly speaking why you were in the middle of the pathway. He'd watch you grip the coffee in your hand, and peek at the paper bag, your lips turning down— rightfully guessing that you'll keep that cheese danish that he always buys for himself but you end up eating it.

That's why he always buy an extra one. 

And it's sitting warmly inside the paper bag he was holding. He bit his lip, thinking when you'll notice him by the wall, but he's been looking at you for minutes already and you haven't looked back yet. He sighed, clutching the paper bag, his heart thumping loudly as he slowly approached you. 

He wants to make things right. It gave him so much hope already when he realized that you were looking for him.

God, even looking at you makes his heart ache, he thought, in a good way. 

"Looking for me?" 

What a wicked thing to say, you thought. That's the first thing Erwin has said to you, in a failed attempt for a pick-up line... and its cruel enough that it sounds like him. 

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at the person who just said that. You quickly did a double-take, whipping your head as you looked at the person. 

It's him. 

Erwin.

He cocked his head at the coffee you were holding. It's gone cold now but he'll take it. "Is that for me?" 

It's really him. 

"Yes," you answered, your hands cold as you gave it to him. He gladly accepted it, his eyes twinkling as he looked at you. The blue eyes you've gone to look for and miss, and he's really here. 

"Latte and the cheese danish," Erwin smiled, giving the bag to you. 

Both of you are blocking the pathway, making the people walk around. All their mean spews were nothing as he stared at your familiar eyes that he's come to want to look at forever. Erwin breathed nervously, as he pointed at the nearby public space with creaky chairs. 

"Should we go sit there?" Erwin asked, and you could only follow his finger, absolutely knowing where it's pointing at. 

"Just like the old times?" You asked breathily, starting to walk towards the first spot both of you shared. Erwin was quick to match your strides as he nodded. 

Life is crazy. 

Both of you walked together, accidental brushes of the hands as both of you walked quietly. He supressed a smile as he peeked down at you, feeling another brush of his hands on yours. He brushed his fingers on you, his eyes shifting towards the people and back at you. 

And he's missed that. Your smile as you leaned in closer, as his finger wrapped around your pinky. Finally, the both of you reached the creaky table set, sitting on it gently as you opened the coffees and the danishes. 

Erwin smiled, as he blew on your latte. He placed it at your side, his heart swelling up as you smiled widely. He watched you take a first seep, instantly seething as it burnt your tongue. 

You looked up at him, embrassment on your cheeks as you always burnt your tongue, drinking your coffee. In one familiar move, he placed his hand in front of you. Erwin only cocked his head to the side, a smile on his lips as he nudged his head, waiting for you to accept his hand. 

Instantly, you knew what it was. 

This was how he first introduced himself years ago. That stupid pick-up line that made you roll your eyes. He took the spare sit before you, mumbling how he hates spending his lunch-time cooped up in that awful desk of his, and he prefers to sit here, on this table, but you already called dibs on it. Then he offered his hand. And the rest was history.

"Should we start over again?"

#erwin smith #erwin x reader #erwin smith x reader #erwin smith imagine #erwin smith imagines #attack on titan #attack on titan imagines #attack on titan imagine #snk imagines #snk #snk imagine #aot imagines #aot imagine #aot erwin #snk erwin #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #shingeki no kyoujin #shingeki no kyojin

[highkeyweeb]

To start this off on the most positive note I can, I would like to say that I love MHA. It’s a show I was skeptical to watch at first, but hooked me in faster than any anime had in a long time. I became very easily captivated by its characters and its story and can’t wait to see where Horikoshi takes it and the plan he has for it moving forward.

Now on the more upsetting side of things… The MHA/BNHA fandom has, and pardon my French (Aoyama would be disappointed), gone to shit. I first learned about everything that was going on when a friend sent me a Tiktok. They always send me MHA Tiktoks because they know I love them and they always make me smile seeing skits, or cosplay or whatever else people do because they’re showing their love for the fandom. So it undoubtedly shattered my heart when I saw how horrific things are in the fandom right now. Needless to say that’s not what I was expecting when I opened my messages.

I quickly tried to get as informed on the situation as I could (because honestly you should never take any information you get from Tiktok at face value, ALWAYS try to educate yourself more). It led me to a new article, some Twitter posts, and a certain Instagram post.

I’ll say this right now: as a KiriBaku shipper, it would break my heart if KiriBaku, or any other ship for that matter, became canon simply because the author was pressured into pleasing a toxic fanbase.

To be a fan of something isn’t to want it to follow YOUR vision. It isn’t even about being happy about everything that happens in the story. It’s about being involved, and being able to voice your opinions in a healthy, open-minded, and nonjudgemental way. Some people like Bakugo, others do not. Some people aren’t even a fan of the protagonist of the story, AND THAT’S OKAY. You don’t have to love every part of something to be a part of a fandom.

But just because you DON’T love a part of something, or what YOU want hasn’t happened, doesn’t mean that you should ruin the experience for everyone.

Shipping isn’t about ships becoming canon. As a shipper from multiple fandoms, I’ll be the first and hopefully not the last to tell you that. There are wholesome ways to feed your passion for a ship, and there are definitely wrong ways to go about doing that as well. I’ll tell you some healthy ways that I have used for years, and am still guilty of using to this day: fan art, fan fiction, and Tumblr.

Fan art is an obvious one. Not only do you get to see all the cute, romantic, wholesome/unwholesome moments between your ship, but you also get to support amazing creators who are exceptionally talented.

Fan fiction on the other hand, has such a negative connotation to it. On the surface level, 80% of fan fiction is badly written, meaningless sexualization of the characters, and has no structure. But I challenge shippers to look a little deeper, if you love a ship to the point where you want it to become canon, immerse yourself in a universe where that dream can come true! But DON’T push your visions onto other people.

It’s the same with religions, political views, and anything really. We’ve all spent time to develop our unique beliefs, and would hate for others to be violently forcing theirs onto us.

Now on to Tumblr. Yes, I know everyone has their reasons for hating or leaving Tumblr, but it’s a GREAT hub for people to get involved in fandoms in a healthy way. If you know a shipper of any kind, I challenge you again to tell them to try out Tumblr. If not for being a fan of the platform, but to be able to share your love for something in healthy and non-toxic way.

Now that is NOT to say take the toxic comments to another platform. If you or someone you know has commented, tweeted, or posted towards Horikoshi to make your ship canon (in any way shape or form) you are in the wrong. That isn’t the right way to show your adoration for something, no matter how peacefully or harmlessly you think you asked.

Now to get back to the issue at hand, this a very simple case of a few people ruining it for everyone. I wouldn’t be surprised if at this point Horikoshi just abandoned BNHA. It must be on his mind. And no matter how many people are telling you they love you and what you do, somehow your mind always manages to fixate itself on the negative, hateful, and hurtful comments. If you were ever a teenager, you might be able to understand that.

To everyone saying that shippers are ruining the fandom, I understand your anger. And on some level I empathize with it. But do try to understand that it isn’t shippers as a whole that are the source of all this negativity, it’s the select few of them that believe they are so entitled they can get whatever they want. If anyone out there is feeling like they have a right to have a say in things like which ships become canon or what path the story takes, remember: this isn’t your story. This is Horikoshi’s story, his universe, and his tale. He has the right, no… the PRIVILEGE to make it whatever he wants it to be. And I wholeheartedly believe that he will make it nothing short of spectacular.

Holy heck, I know this was way too long and no one read this through to it’s entirety but this was more of just a personal rant to get things that have been on my mind, OFF my mind. I can only hope that someone read what I said and realized something they did wrong, and a way they can change their actions in the future to make not only this fandom, but the world as a whole, a better place.

Have a great day everyone. ❤️ 

P.S. - To everyone saying they’re not gay, or it’s not a romance anime, etc. I want to remind you that not ALL ships are romantic ones. Now in this case I feel like the conversation is strictly talking about romantic ships, but just a reminder in case someone forgot or wasn’t aware. On top of that, there are PLENTY of non-romantic anime that have canonical pairs.

P.S.S. - Just as I was about to post this I thought of another thing: calling shippers mental, disgusting, or f-ed up is EXTREMELY generalizing, and gives an entire community of people a bad name when it’s just a select few. Also downright hating on certain ships because you don’t understand them or they seem outrageous to you is never acceptable, whether you’re a shipper or not. Now of course that’s not to say that you have to like everything but... if you don’t have anything nice to say then just don’t say anything at all. 

This post is as much a message to the entitled shippers of the fandom, as it is to the toxic members of the fandom who turned to using hurtful words to put down those shippers in order to tell them they’re wrong. Two wrongs, NEVER make a right.

Feel free to reblog and add any constructive comments on things you think I may have missed. In a community where there is so much hate being thrown around right now, and people are being looked down upon for something that should be so harmless and simple, I would really appreciate it if there were no hurtful words associated with this post. Let’s go beyond Plus Ultra to make this fandom a better place. 💛

#love for horikoshi #let horikoshi write his story #kohei horikoshi #horikoshi #support horikoshi #mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha manga #bnha manga #mha anime #bnha anime #mha ships #bnha ships #kiribaku #kacchaco #bakudeku #todobaku #kirimina #kamikiri #kiritodo #izuchaco #tododeku #todomomo #kamijirou #shinkami #erasermic #erasermight #dabihawks

[wordynerdygurl]

Skin Deep - Part 3

Author’s Note:  The story continues!  I appreciate everyone’s patience as I got this third piece of our tale completed.  I hope the wait will be worth for all of you! As always, please re-blog, share, comment and so on!  I’m accepting tags, so let me know if you want to be a Minx! I am also getting ready to celebrate a milestone here on Tumblr, so stay tuned for details!! I wanted to take a moment and send some specific love to two of my followers who, just by doing what great fan-fiction readers should, made my little life complete.  First, @iluvsumbucky​ ... this one, she read every chapter of “The Testing Kind” over 5 days and left the most meaningful, heartfelt reviews.  I can’t tell you how much it meant to me to see those comments and know that you loved my story as much as I loved writing it. Which brings us to @iamverity​ ... perhaps the single most thing a writer can hope for is someone to tell you that their work makes you feel.  I was paid this compliment and swear to strive for that in all my output going forward. Also, always, much thanks to @sammy-jo1977​ who had to listent o me whine while this one came together. Skin Deep Part 1 Skin Deep Part 2 Pairing:  Loki x Reader, Steve x Reader, Natasha and Bucky are around Summary:  Picking up where part 2 ended, Loki’s back... What will Steve do to keep you as his own?  How far will you go to find the truth? Warnings:  Angry, yelling, darker Steve.  Mentions of smut, property destruction, confrontations galore.

“PET!”  Watching you crumble, Loki was a blur of manic motion, moving with speed spurned by fear.  Knees scraping the antique rug, those long fingered hands cupped your head, keeping it from hitting the floor as Loki managed to catch you just in time. Malice, so foreign on his tongue, dripped from Steve as he rushed forward, “She’s not your pet, Loki.  Not anymore.” Crouched over you, protecting you in your delicate state, Loki stared down America's Man with a Plan.  Long hair swinging wildly, “Well, she’s certainly not your doll, Captain.”  Jostling for position, pushing close to you, Steve elbowed Loki harshly, “Like Hell!” With a flash, fully armored, Loki stood with you draped limply in his arms.  “Out of the way, Avenger.  You don’t want to fight me, not right now.”

Moving, keeping Steve in his sights, Loki stepped backwards, making his way toward the open door.  Steve, stomping forward slowly, intending to close the distance and eager to have you back in his arms, “Let me have the girl, Loki.” Growling a warning, Loki snarled, “Absolutely not.” “Loki, just walk away.  Leave her, just like you did before.”

“Captain-”  A sharp shock rocked through Loki’s back forcing his body to lock up.  Almost frozen from the burning heat blasting through him, his arms grew heavy, beyond his control.  There was no scream, only the perfectly round “O” of his mouth as the pain clamped onto each of his muscles.  Unable to support you any longer, Loki felt himself tipping forward, Steve stealing you to safety and out of his grasp.  Loki’s world went black as his arms were emptied of your weight. Gently, sweetly, your passed out figure is laid on your soft bed.  Straightening, Steve tucked the blanket under your arms, “Thanks for the assist.” “Sorry I’m late.” 

“Still, thank you.”  Natasha holstered her weapon, a strong taser with tech from Tony modified to take down an Asgardian, and cuffed the wrists of unconscious Loki.  “Think you can help me get him out of here?  Steve?”  “Hmm?  Oh, yea.  Sure.”  Distracted, Steve was looking down at you, grazing a hand over your cheek, tucking hair behind your ear.  It looked loving and tender to Natasha. “She’ll be fine, Rogers.  It won’t take us long to-” “He was me.”  

Softly spoken, Natasha barely heard the words, her head bent towards the alien god at her feet.  But something about his tone had her chin lifting.  “What do you mean, Steve?” “Shape shifted.  Glamoured.  However he did it...  Loki looked like me, sounded like me, was… me.” Natasha had an idea of where this was headed.  Bed sheets were rumpled, you were in a robe, your hair askew.  The unmistakable smell of sex filled the space.  Almost unrecognizable, Steve’s voice echoed a hurt that she had never heard before.  Not when he’d woken up, a man out of time and out of friends.  Not when Bucky was found, brain washed but alive.  No, this Steve sounded broken.  Wounded.  And wasting precious time. 

“Steve, let’s talk about this later.  Help me move Loki.  Fury will be here to collect him tomorrow at first light.” “She loves him, Nat.  Even as me.  She and Loki… they just…”  Looking back at you, tracing the swollen curve of your hard kissed lips, “They are perfect for each other.” “What are you saying, Rogers?” His sigh was a heavy, cumbersome thing.  “I’m saying… Let's get Loki secure.”

----

Fluttering open, you took in the lengthening shadows across the ceiling of the room you and Steve called your own.  The room where Steve had coaxed you away from your physical dependence on Loki’s love.  The room where Loki, appearing as Steve, forced you to reacquaint yourself with his addicting abilities.  Hearing Steve’s even tread on the stairs, you sat up just as he cleared the door.  Meeting Steve’s concerned gaze with your own, a gentle smile playing on his full lips, “Hey doll!  Welcome back!” 

Crossing to your side, long strides bringing him near, Steve lowered himself onto the bed.  Taking you in, Steve clasped one of your hands in his own, his fingers locking on yours.  Soothing, smoothing the damp hair off your cheek, “You fainted.” Your mouth was dry.  Unable to trust your rusty throat, nodding, you acknowledged his statement.  Fainting wasn’t something you did, but under the circumstances, you gave your strained mind a break.  With a cracking whisper you asked, “Loki?”  Steve’s look clouded at the name, as if he’d swallowed something disgusting, “He’s gone.”

Struggling, your loose robe falling open, a shrill tone that you didn’t recognize coming out of you, “Gone?  Loki just left?” Steve won’t look at you.  Maybe he can’t, but that doesn’t stop his words from sounding so strange.  You ask again, not understanding, “Loki’s gone?” With that, Steve focuses solely on your tear filled eyes, not the reddened skin of your clavicle or the indigo fingerprints rising on the surface of your breast.  Pulling your robe over you, covering the marks of passion on your shoulder for your sake, Steve shrugged, “Yes.”

Shaking Steve off, hands waving him away, “But that doesn’t make sense.” Scooting back, surveying you darkly, “It doesn’t?” “No.  I mean-”  Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, a guilty look on your face at the appearance of purple on your inner thigh, “Why would he show up… and do what he did?” This type of behavior wasn’t like him.  This wasn’t Loki’s style.  He calculated, maneuvered, contemplated.  Risk over reward, pros and cons.  

No, he had come back with a plan.  Loki had come back for you.  As he’d promised you years ago, Loki was back and you had betrayed him.  You had betrayed him by falling into Steve’s bed.  You had let Loki down.  Would he be able to forgive you?  Could you forgive yourself? Fingers laying over your own, Steve squeezed them tight, misunderstanding the tears in your eyes.  “I’m sorry he hurt you, doll.  I should have been here sooner.” “He didn’t hurt me, Steve.  I mean, not physically…”, jerking your hand free, standing on wobbly legs, your sadness flashed into anger.  As you paced the room, Steve was forced to keep calm, even as he wanted to explode.  The marks of Loki’s love making were still fresh and just knowing that someone else had put them on your body made Steve’s pulse pound.  What’s more, you didn’t seem to care that you looked like a well used harlot, parading around, shoving Loki’s prowess down his throat.  With a raised tone, unfamiliar to you, Steve groaned in frustration, “Doll, look what Loki did to you!  He took advantage!”

That made you pause.  Did Loki cross a line?  Yes.  Coming to you as Steve, taking you to bed, making you feel all those delicious, dirty things… Things that Steve would never consider doing.  Things Steve wouldn’t be capable of doing, not to you, his perfect doll.  You should have known something was different about your stand-in Captain.  But, hadn’t it been a perfect combination of the two men?  Remembering it made your head swim, “I don’t know why Loki did this.  I don’t know why Loki… wasn’t himself.” “He’s not the only one.” scoffed Steve.

“What the hell does that mean?” Sighing heavily, resigning himself to the unspoken resentment he felt, “Nothing… I… Nothing.  Forget about it.  Let’s focus on tonight, ok?” Moody and on edge, you didn’t want to let it go, “Oh no.  You said it.  I want to know what you meant.”  Your hands found your hips, arms out like chicken wings, the air around you snapping with unchecked energy.

“Doll, let’s not.  Not right now.” “No.  Let’s hear it.  You clearly have something to say.  Say it.  Use your words, Steve.”  It was a phrase Steve loved to use on you when he felt like his sexual endeavors deserved more praise.  Now, you used it to goad him. "You let him-" Steve looked anywhere but at you, the memory of your body tight against his own, as a spectator, not participant made him bristle, “-have his way with you.”

Opening and closing your mouth, unable to find the words, shaking in your own unchecked fury and frustration.  "I thought it was you!"

"Did you really?", gravel filled and low, Steve’s anger simmered just under the surface of his perfect pout.  

You had a flashback, Steve stalking towards you, an almost predatory look on his handsome face.  He called you “pet”, pulled you to him with hungry hands, touched you in more than three places.  What you thought was, No, no I didn’t really think it was you.  But what you said was, "Y...yes.  Why?" 

"You've never been like that with me… so loose, so playful.  Loki could have asked you for anything.  Anything and you'd have done it."

It was a stinging truth, it’s acid filled tentacles wrapping around your heart, squeezing tightly because you definitely would have done anything that fake Steve had wanted.  Real Steve was right about that.  Dragging in a deep breath, almost afraid to ask, but needing to know, "How long were you watching, Steve?"

"Long enough.”

Searching his brooding eyes, you looked for the familiar light of the sensitive Steve you’d so recently grown to enjoy.  He was nowhere to be found.  Adding a pleading note to your voice, almost contrite, "It was you as far as I was concerned.  He tricked me, ya know?"

"You weren't complaining, in fact, it was the exact opposite.”  Rage snapped in Steve’s frosty glare as he finally lost the iron grip of his emotions, “You came for him!  Twice!" Matching his volume, “I came for you!” Mocking you, your breathless words of passion, “I won’t break Steve!  Please, Steve!  Don’t Stop!” “Steve!  Not Loki!  Steve!!  You said it yourself!” On his feet now, crowding you closer to the wall, his voice continued to rise. “You knew it wasn’t me.  Don’t lie!  You knew.  And… and you fucked him anyway!  Ah!”  Spinning, Steve yelled as his fist went through the door of your armoire, wood splinters and paint flying every which way. Ducking, you jumped out of the way, shouting too, "Jesus, Steve!  What are you doing?!” But Steve was on you in a heartbeat, using his super size to his advantage, “When did you know?  When did you know it was him?  When did you realize you weren’t fucking me?”

And there was the real issue, the thought hitting you like a freight train.  Cold, pea green, you touched my toy, jealousy.  

“Steve…”, his grip on your upper arms was vice tight, the vibration of his furious frenzy frizzling your confidence.  Your voice sounded so small, but it somehow reached through his envious green fog, “Stop, baby… please?” Deflating before you, Steve’s chest rose and fell as his breath evened out,  “Answer me.  Did you know it was Loki?” Catching your bottom lip between your teeth you nodded, whispering, lying, “No… I really believed it was you.” And that was the right answer, because Steve pulled you to him then, his mouth no longer spouting spite.  “Doll… I love you.  Seeing you with… anyone else, I just couldn’t…”  You heard him trail off, his grasp of you tighter than needed, but you didn’t dare move.  “I know honey.  I know.”  Feeling him press a kiss to your temple, Steve’s lips moved over your cheek before capturing your mouth with his.  You let him kiss you, kissing him back, eager to end the hostilities without any more destruction.  Placated, Steve’s chin rested on your head, “People are still coming over tonight.  It’s too late to cancel.  Will you be up for that?” Easy now, sweetly you responded, “Everything is pretty much done.  You just have to start the grill, babe.”  Laughing low, “Ok.  I’m going to get cleaned up and head out there.” Stepping out of his arms, looking up at him demurely, “Sounds good.”  Somehow you even managed a smile, normal and light, as if the afternoon hadn’t been filled with shrieks and shouts. Hugging you snuggly once more, Steve reached the door before turning back to you, “You need to shower.  You smell like him.  And, doll?” Frozen in place, you risked a glance at Steve, “Yes?” “Please keep yourself covered up.  You’ve got bruises everywhere.” Once Steve was gone, your resolve eroded completely.  Loki had disappeared again, Steve had lost his damn mind, and you had the nagging suspicion that everything was wrong.  Under the surface of all of these events, these wild happenings, was a connection that you couldn’t see.  Tears fell, hot and hard, scalding your cheeks. Over your sniffling you heard Steve’s steps on the stairs, thumping him towards the back yard.  Pushing yourself up off the floor, you saw the super soldier making his way to the shed, the little storage area seated between the house and the tree line.  Swiveling his head, checking for onlookers, Steve entered the security code, your first date, and stepped inside. Now, it wasn’t weird that Steve went to shed, per se.  It was his, on his property, and full of his stuff.  What made it weird was the glowing green light that flashed quickly through the windows after he was inside. Keeping vigil over that little shed for more than twenty minutes, eager to see Steve step out of that small space, your mind races.  What was going on in there?  What could he possibly be doing that would take so much time? Again, the windows glowed green and suddenly Steve was outside, shutting the door soundly.  He looked towards you, to the window you were gawking out of, but the sheer curtain hid you.  Satisfied, Steve moved to the patio, setting up the grill for his guests. Shivering through your shower, you quickly cleaned up, your hands running over the tender skin where Loki left reminders.  Steve wasn’t wrong.  You were covered from neck to knee with bruises and bites, stings and smacks. But how delicious it had been earning each and everyone of them.  

-----

He felt the familiar strain of shackles before opening his eyes.  Hands behind his back, some sort of water fed device from the feel of it, kept him from full use of his magic.  Loki knew then that Thor had provided inspiration for his current condition, even if it was unintentional.

Another set of cuffs.  Another version of prison.  Passing through his brain was a floating thought, What did I do this time?

Unable to dissect his predicament further, Loki heard the thumping steps of a visitor coming his way.  "Agent Romanoff… always a pleasure.  Are you the one responsible for my current-" shifting in his bonds, "-state?"

"You brought this on yourself, Loki."

Tilting his head, dark hair cascading downward, "Really?  And exactly how did I accomplish that?"

Natasha spread her feet, toeing the edge of Loki's cell, "I told you there was an easy way to do this.  Seems like you enjoy doing things the hard way."

Chuckling, if only she knew the truth of her words, "I do like it hard.  And rough.  And wild.  Just ask Rogers' woman.  Isn't that right, Captain?"

"Shut up, Loki."

"Why should I?  You have me here, trussed up like a stuck pig, bound and helpless.  What more can I do?"  His tone reflecting false innocence that neither agent believed, Loki smiled widely, seeming almost content in his confinement.

Steve ignored the rising ire Loki provoked.  Turning to Natasha, "Can you go and check on her?  She should be showering… getting dressed.  Make sure she…"  Now he glowered in Loki's direction, "Make sure she doesn't look like a whore."

Loki's answer was a raised eyebrow.

"You boys play nice until I get back.", her last words before retreating up the stairs, leaving Loki and Steve to stare at each other.

For a long moment neither spoke.  There was a lot to say, maybe too much, but both warriors were willing to wait the other out.  It was the equivalent of circling an opponent, only no one was moving, there was no parry, no thrust.

Loki, seemingly at ease, knew he could wait out the Super Soldier.  Roger’s approach was so utterly American, so typical of Midgard, Earthy.  No, it was clear that Steve didn't understand about patience.  Timing.  Not like Loki did anyway.

For his part, Steve was already battling a fierce fighter… himself.  When he told Nat that you and Loki had something special, something other, that wasn't a lie.  Steve would have to be blind or stupid not to realize the depth of feelings the two of you shared.

So the question circling his star spangled brain was this:  did loving you mean letting you go, even if that meant Loki won?  Or lying to keep you as Steve's own?

No answers came.  And that, the inability to settle his feelings once and for all, made Steve vibrate with uncontrollable anger.  Mad at himself for letting Loki get under his skin, under your skin, had Steve clenching his fists at his sides.

Furious at Fury for forcing him to use you, trading your broken heart for weapons technology, had Steve's toes tapping.  That he knew in his heart what he had to do, what the right thing was, even though Steve would lose everything… well that was the last straw.

As the electric bars Loki was kept behind fell, the deity couldn't help taunting, "Interrogation time, is it?"

Steve's answer was more feral grunt than words.  Loki followed him with his gaze until Steve crossed behind his broad back and out of sight, “You really think you love her.”  

"No."  

Loki's single syllable stalled Steve.  Had he heard the fallen God right?  Was it this easy to win you away from Loki?  Steve faced his captive, forcing Loki to look up at him, practically sneering, "No?"

“Love is too small a word.”

Shaking his head at the sweet sentiment, Steve's voice laced with unshed emotions, “I love her, Loki.”  Pounding on the skin over his heart, voice lifting with his bubbling anger, “Me.  I love her!"

Looking ahead, shrugging, Loki focused on the man before him, clearly in crisis.  Anyone else might empathize with the dear old Captain.  Not Loki.  What did Steve's feelings matter to a God like him?  

"Why couldn’t you just stay away?”  Questioning Loki, Steve wasn’t sure he wanted an answer, or, more precisely, wasn’t sure he could handle it.

Twisting now, coolly appraising your conflicted consort, Loki snorted, “You know why.  Why couldn’t you find your own girl, Captain?  What right do you have to take what is mine?”

“She’s not yours, Loki.  Not anymore.”  Bristling, Steve's words were steel, biting, brittle but it was a shallow shield.  Closing his eyes he saw it all play out again.  A loop of you, lusty eyes half closed, legs spread, lips parted as his body double brought you to paradise.  

As if he knew where Steve's mind had drifted, his half smirking smile rising, Loki cocked his head.  “Oh, I don't know about that.  She didn’t feel like yours when I had her cumming on my cock.”

Rocking on his heels as if he'd been struck, Steve challenged, “Do you have to be so crude?”

“Does that offend you?  I’m terribly sorry that my honesty is so odious.  Shall I lie to you instead?”

“I’m going to enjoy watching Fury dissect you.”  It was a threat, plain and simple.  Still, Loki wasn't convinced of its authenticity, no matter how much Rogers wanted him to cower.  

“Is that the plan then?  Cut me up, figure out ways to use me?”  Now, that was a troubling thought.  Torture was not something Loki enjoyed, having been on the receiving end of its hellish torments a time or two, and he had no plans to return to a testing chamber, thank you very much.

Nodding negative, Steve smiled back coldly, “There’s also all those Asgardian weapons, Loki.”

“Ah!  That sounds more like your Mr. Fury!  Drain my brain for technology that no one on the planet could hope to control.  Great idea.”

It was then, without real consideration, that Steve drove his fist into Loki's jaw knocking the once King of Asgard onto his side.  Loki, powerless to stop the sucker punch, had no choice but to accept the blow and allow momentum and gravity to do their best work.  His lip, exploding in a spray of blood, filled his mouth with warm copper, staining his leather doublet.

Spitting a wad of torn tissue and clotting red onto the cellar dust, "You son of a whore!  I thought we were doing so well!"

Steve, kneeling in the dirt, squeezed Loki's shoulder, pulling him upright.  Seeing the broken skin on his foe's face made him feel better.  Drawing back, Steve watched as Loki raised his chin, offering it up to the serum soaked soldier as a target.  Happily, Captain Rogers obliged him. Swinging his left arm, connecting with the sharp cut of Loki's right cheek, Steve felt the bone break under his hand.  Knuckles met nose as blood gushed over Loki's handsome face in a macabre cascade.  Still, Loki made no cry, offered no pleas.  Wordlessly he allowed Steve to pummel him, absorbing the blows of bitterness, stoking Steve's anger.

After a punishing pop that made Loki's ears ring, taunting, Steve offered, “I can do this all day.”

Wheezing through his broken nose, gurgling through the fountain that was one his face, “It takes a God, Rogers.  You’re still a skinny boy from Brooklyn compared to the cosmic forces at play here."

Pushing Loki flat to his back, towering over him, Rogers's own breath coming in pants of exertion.  "I could kill you.  For what you did today.  For what you've done."

"Is it your sense of misguided morality that stays your hand, Captain?"  Loki slurred through his split lip, one irritated eye swelling, as Steve flexed his rapidly healing fingers.

"No.  I told you, Nick wants you… alive."

"And you're always the good soldier aren't you?  Doing as you're told, no matter what you know is right?"

Turning his head away, Steve didn't want to see the consequences of his actions etched on Loki's face, "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Then let me go."

Slowly closing his eyes, Steve sighed, "Right.  Ya know, I'd have to be insane.  After what you did today?"  

"I came back for my lady."

Another flare of furious feeling flowed through Steve, instinct making him kick into Loki's ribs.  "She's not your lady!  God damn it!"

Curling into the new wave of pain inflicted on his person, “Oof!  Do what you want to me, Captain, you and Fury won't be the first.  Just-"  Loki, hiccuping softly as a lone tear tracked over his mottled skin, "-just, please.  Don’t hurt her.  It’s not her fault.”

Cold blood, coursing through his veins, pounded in Steve's ears at the idea that he might harm you.  “I would never!  I could never!  She thinks you’re already gone.  Left her behind like before.  And I’ll pick up the pieces... again."

Turning to leave, Steve's final blow, the most crushing, "She’ll never even know you’re down here, Loki.”

---

Digging through your shattered chest, towel clutched around you, desperately you searched for something to wear that hid as much of you as possible.  There was no sense in upsetting Steve further.  You weren’t entirely sure what he might do, not anymore. Mind whirling a mile a minute, your head was at war, silently cursing Loki and Steve equally for their behavior throughout the day.  Who was the more infuriating?  Right now you couldn’t decide between Loki’s cruel but carnal return, and Steve’s super soldier psychosis.

"Hey lady!"  

Snapping your head up with a shriek, "Damn it, Nat! You scared the shit out of me!"

Laughing lightly, stepping into the messy room, Natasha kept her eyes on you.  "Everything ok?  You seem… tense?"

Feeling your lower lip wobble, "Oh?  Do I seem that way?  And no.  Nothing's ok." 

"Tell me.  What happened?"

Flopping down to the bed, a dress clutched in your hand, you turned your filling eyes to your best friend.  Gulping quickly you started retelling the events of the last couple of hours.  Loki’s disguised return and almost immediate departure.  Steve’s over sized, out of character outburst, and the visible wreckage it had left behind.

Natasha let you prattle, bobbing her head and offering "No!" and "Oh my god!" and "What?" at the appropriate moments in your story.  Where the hell was Fury?  It was dangerous keeping Loki so close to you, didn't he realize that?  There was no telling what lengths he would go to in his quest to reclaim you.

When you had finished, finally reaching the moment she had found you, she was a million miles away.  "Natasha?  Earth to Nat?" 

Blinking herself back into the moment, "I'm just speechless.  Like, wow."

“I know, Right?”  Expecting some sort of response or advice, you scanned your friend’s face but something felt off.  Natasha’s eyes kept drifting toward the window, keeping the shed in sight, waiting for something.

And suddenly a thought popped into your head.  Something you didn’t want to ask, something you were afraid to answer.  Steve’s shindig was still an hour away from beginning, everyone was supposed to come up from the city together.  So, why was she already here? Feeling you shift away from her, just an inch or two of distance on the bedspread, Natash knew you were putting pieces together.  It was something she had seen before.  The moment a captive subject realized she wasn’t the good cop or the bad cop.  

“I’m going to need my sandals.  I think they’re in the room across the hall.  Hang here a minute, ok?”  Sounding bright and breezy, you went to stand, stopping with Natasha’s forceful tug on your wrist. “No.” “No? Come on, Nat…”  Pulling free of her grip, well trying to, your false smile slipping as you took a step backwards. Shaking her head, the woman who was your best friend swung you back towards the mattress, “Put on your dress.  Do your makeup. Finish getting yourself ready.” You were meeting the Black Widow for the first time.  Calculating, poisonous and cold.  Shivering at Natasha’s icy tone,  “Are you asking me or telling me?” Cocking her head, sending her blunt bob swinging, the look she gave you was answer enough.  “You’re going to sit here until Steve comes to get you.”

“Can you… will you at least give me the room?”  Natasha gave you a half nod before exiting, shutting the door behind her.  Waiting to hear her footsteps, a sign that she had drifted downstairs, you were disappointed to learn she was standing guard.  Of course it wouldn’t look that way to anyone but you.  No, to everyone else it would seem like your bestie was waiting for you to finish up, eager to get the party started. Pacing to the window, looking down like a princess trapped in a tower, you saw Steve chatting with Bucky the unsurprising first to arrive.  Your gaze kept drifting to that shed, more than certain that it contained the answers you needed, and that somehow, someway, you had to get into that space.  But first you had to get dressed.  

Drawing panties up your legs, you started getting yourself put together.  Next came the matching bra, the cups covering the fingerprints Loki left behind.  Shrugging into your maxi length wrap dress, the emerald green one with a sash belt that felt like a soft tee shirt, you at least felt pretty even if your heart was heavy. Willing yourself not to cry, you swiped eye shadow over your lids just like you’ve done countless times before.  Mascara, a pop of red lipstick, but no blush.  You didn’t need it.   

As you push your earring into place the door creaks open.  Steve, looking sheepish, rests a hip against your dresser watching you do all the little things that complete your look for the night.  He’s smiling sweetly, adoringly, in a way that’s meant to prove that he’s ready to put the day’s events behind you both. “You look… beautiful, doll.” “Thank you.”  Keeping it simple, you don’t let your stare linger on him, instead you sink down to buckle your strappy sandals in place.  Kneeling down at your feet, Steve lifts the second shoe, Prince Charming style.  And if today hadn’t been today, you might have felt moved by his gesture.  Now, more than ever, if solidified the idea that you were a kept thing, the princess, locked in a castle tower to be hidden away from the rest of the world. 

Only Steve wasn’t your prince.  He was the Lord of the Manner, to be obeyed in all things, keeping you behind closed doors.  Natasha, she was his enforcer, the knight guarding his treasure.  Oh, how you wanted to be rescued. Mortified and hurt, feeling trapped like a pent up tiger in a cage, you turn towards the door, "Where do you think you're going?" At Steve’s words you pause.  Worry must show on your face because he leans into you, brushing a kiss across your temple, wrapping your hand in his.  “You can’t go anywhere without me.” And it’s meant to reassure you.  That’s what Steve’s body language wants to convey.  Protector, defender, keeping you safe and secure.  On the landing you’re flanked by Natasha, pinned between them both, as you make your way down to the small gathering of guests already sipping sangria under the pretty lights you put out.

Pepper is the first to grab you and for a beat Steve doesn’t let go of your fingers, instead pressing a possessive kiss to the back of your hand.  “Don’t you look beautiful!  Captain, you can’t keep her all to yourself, you know!”, gathering you to her in a tight hug is almost enough to make you cry.  It’s the love you had expected from your best friend but been denied. Warily, watchfully, Steve works the crowd.  He’s poured beers for the boys and slapped steaks on the grill.  Natasha is chatting with Clint, but you feel her eyes on you just the same.  No one else is aware of the scrutiny you’re under and you realize that you’re dealing with two super spies who are great at what they do for a living.  Getting to the shed unnoticed is going to be difficult, but you’re going to make it happen even if it kills you, and it just might. Soft music is playing, the air is honeysuckle scented and in some other dimension, tonight is perfect.  Still, you can’t keep your thoughts on the party.  You’re waiting for a chance to sneak away, even as you make small talk with Wanda, “Oh, thank you!  I’m glad you like them, it’s a family recipe.” “Doll?  Got a second?”  You’d hardly have thought that Bucky Barnes would be your salvation, and yet, it’s his soft voice that pulls you away from the group in a way that doesn’t arouse suspicion.  Setting down your own glass, you tilt your head to Bucky, flashing Steve a small smile.  He returns it with a little nod, giving you the go ahead before you follow Bucky into the kitchen.   Reaching into the cabinet, you grab two shot glasses and the bottle from the freezer, “I kept the good stuff for us!” Bucky, chuckling low, pours out two icy vodkas.  Clinking your glass to his, you tip the alcohol down your throat, enjoying the white hot burn as it hits your belly.  Holding your cup out, Bucky refills it, “You ok, doll?” “Yea?  Why?” Raising his dark eyebrows, “You’re quiet.” “So?”  Defensiveness laced your response.

“Um… that’s just not like you.  I thought that tonight you’d be… relaxed.” Twirling your recently emptied shot glass, purposefully not looking into the brilliant blue eyes in front of you, “I’ve just got a lot on my mind today.” “I can imagine.  Steve told me about… Loki.” “He did?  What did he say?” Another heavy pour, another downed shot, and Bucky answered, “That he had come to see you.  Riled you up.” “That’s it?”

Bucky, catching your gaze held it, “No.  He’s afraid of losing you.  He loves you so much, you know?” “Ha!”  It burst out of you, unrestrained, and once the uncomfortable bubble popped it couldn’t be stopped.  Laughing uncontrollably now, you clutched the counter, knees buckling as you tried to stifle the giggles.  Hearing Bucky join you, that chortle of his gaining strength as the vodka took hold, only kept your own laughter going. “Bucky!  I’m gonna pee my pants!  Oh god!”  

Keeping your knees locked, scuttling to the bathroom, you ducked inside.  You heard the Winter Soldier fix himself another drink and shut the freezer door, “Doll, I’ll see you outside!”

Letting yourself out the front door, you snuck around the side of the house, entering again through the wide gate.  From this side, the shed was easy to access, and just far enough away from the noise of the party to keep you hidden from view.  You were also trusting Bucky to report your need for the bathroom, buying you a few minutes of snooping time, before you’d need to be back under the watchful eyes of Steve. Punching in the security code, the lock clicking gently, you pushed into the small room where all the landscaping and hand tools lived.  Smelling of gasoline and mold, the place was neat, but dirty, built solely for storage.  You were ready to give up your searching when you noticed footprints in the dust.  

Not just Steve’s boots either.  No, there was Natasha’s feminine foot shape as well as the long tapered outline of a third person’s shoe.  But that didn’t add up.  Following the tracks around a small work table you noticed a rug, still kicked up at the corner, where the footprints stopped.  Now, you were no Nancy Drew, out there solving the case of the extra footsteps in the shed.  It just all was too perfect, the clues matching up too well to be an accident. Rolling up the carpet revealed a small latch that sprung free with little effort.  In the gloom below, glowing faintly, was the same green light you remembered from Steve’s visit here.  Something about that light was familiar to your person.  It called to you and after swallowing a small wave of fear you used the narrow ladder like steps to descend into the murky space below. You didn’t need a flashlight.  What was in front of you illuminated the whole cellar with ghastly green light.  Narrow columns of light stretched from floor to ceiling, crackling with power, keeping you away from the shadowed prisoner on the other side. Realization, hitting you like a brick, brought burning bile to your throat.  You recognized the figure on the floor in front you, even with his purpled face and swollen eye, “LOKI!” “Oh, hello pet.” Getting as close to the shimmering bars as you safely could, “Oh god, Loki!  What’s happened?  I thought you left?  Steve told me you left!” “You thought I left?  That’s ludicrous.  I just got back.”, voice still rasping, Loki surveyed you from his good eye.

“What’s happening here?  I… I just don’t understand.” Sighing deeply, Loki rolled his still visible eye, “Can you turn off these ridiculous bars?  I can’t use my magic with all this… interference.” Spying the control panel across the room, you studied it for a moment before entering a set of numbers.  It wasn’t difficult to crack Steve’s code.  This one was your birthday.  Instantly the laser grid dropped, giving you access to the battered man cuffed on the dirt floor.  Wasting no time, you flung yourself towards Loki, your arms circling his neck as you kissed his split lips.  Falling into the dirt beside him, you clung to Loki, squeezing him until he begged to be let go. “Pet!  Please!  The cuffs, if you can release them I can heal myself.” Looking at the fancy restraint holding Loki’s wrists tightly, you didn’t find a keyhole, but rather a complex latch mechanism.  Pulling your earring free, you used the post to push open the catch, a whirring sound rising as the metal and liquid let go.  Laughing, “That should not have worked.” “It was created by men who don’t take women into account.  Of course your female magic would best them, darling.”

Loki turned your face to his, cupping your cheek, “Oh gods, I missed you.” Scalding tears began to flow, “I’m so sorry Loki.  I knew you were coming back.  I knew it… and still…” “Hush.  Hush now.  You were purposely misled, pet.  Rogers, Romanoff, Fury.  I was communicating with them the entire time.  And for their own reasons they kept you in the dark.”  Rocking together in the dank gloom of the shed, you let Loki hold you which is exactly what he had wanted to do for years now.

---

“Buck?  Where’s our girl?”  Trying to keep his voice light, Steve was battling internally, feeling that familiar pulse of anger start to throb. “Bathroom.  Give her a minute, we were hitting the Goose pretty hard.” Natasha was already on the move, pushing through the screen door, stomping through the kitchen.  Finding the bathroom empty, like she knew she would, Nat stopped for a second.  Where would you go? Steve was already moving towards the shed, knowing, somehow that you’d find your way there eventually.  “Just going to grab more champagne!  Hang tight!  Bucky, don’t let that chicken burn!” Meeting Natasha at the door, the two Avengers wordlessly agreeing to a covert attack plan, Steve entering the pin code.  Soundless, they sweep the space, finding it empty.  Steve, stopping short at the edge of the carpet, the cellar door still open to the darkness below.    

Lifting his wide eyes to Natasha, “They’re gone.” 

~ Part Four Coming Soon~ My Like Minded Minxes:  @sammy-jo1977 @vodka-and-some-sass @just-random-obsessions @brokenthelovely @lots-of-loki @thefallenbibliophilequote @iamverity @iluvsumbucky @unadulteratedwizardlove @wolfsmom1 @procrastinatinglikeabitch @mizfit2 @shxdowofdarkness @nonsensicalobsessions @ahintofkiwistrawberry @alexakeyloveloki @jessiejunebug @rorybutnotgilmore @crystalizedcaramel @lokislittlecorner @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @capcapcapsicle @jamielea81 @caffiend-queen @thenatalie 

#loki x reader #loki x you #steve x reader #steve x you #dark steve rogers #loki smut #steve rogers smut #marvel #marvel smut #MCU fic #loki fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction

[princess-of-riviaa]

The Last Time (Part 1)

Pairing: August Walker x Reader

Summary: As an agent of the CIA, August is always leaving you. This time, you’re sure your heart is too broken for it be mended.  But when he shows up in your life after a six month absence, you realize things are never so simple with him.

Author’s Note: If you’ve read any of my other work (I’m looking at you, Vices Chapter 5) then you know that I have a weird obsession with a couple sharing a meal together and enjoying wine. I just think it’s very romantic and relaxing and the idea of someone cooking my favorite meal for me in my home gets me all soft. So I had to put it in here. Enjoy ;) also, I am obsessed with Taylor Swift and one of my all time fav songs of hers is “The Last Time” on her Red album, which gave me a lot of inspiration for this fic lol

Warning(s): there is literally no smut, just angst (I’m writing a part 2 to this that will include smut)

Word Count: 2.5k

There’s a second impatient knock on your front door before you can even reach it. “One second! God, don’t you know that it takes time to answer a fucking door--” you began as you pulled the door open, then paused.

Hard blue eyes and a blank face stared down at you. His facial hair had grown out since you’d last seen him--what was it, six months?--but he was still just as thick with muscle. His brown curly hair was cut short and brushed back nicely, though his button-down shirt and jeans had blood stains on them. If you were anyone else, seeing August Walker standing at your door should have been enough to make you pee your pants or run and hide. But being who you were, and him being who he was, all you could do was stare at him.

He took you in, too, taking a minute to scan every inch of you and ensure you were the same woman he’d left behind all that time ago. August opened his mouth--

You slammed the door in his face.

“Seriously?” He scoffed, his deep voice loud enough to be heard through the door.

“Go away!” you hollered back.

“I’m not leaving,” he insisted.

“Go! Away!” You repeated, hitting your door and imagining it was him you were hitting instead, wanting to hurt him as much as he’d hurt you.

“Let me in,” he said calmly, knowing you would.

“Fuck you, August.” A lump formed in your throat. It became difficult to breathe, difficult to swallow, difficult to think--though the latter had more to do with who was on the other side of your door and less about the tears you struggled to hold back.

“Y/N.” Just the sound of your name on his lips made you want to give in. You wanted him to hold you in his arms as he kissed you passionately, his mouth whispering “I’m sorry”s against your own.

You crossed your arms, trying to resist the urge to open the door again. You knew your worth, knew you deserved more than what this man could give you. But you wanted him--oh, how you wanted him.

“January,” he murmured, barely loud enough for you to hear it.

You gasped. That name... that stupid nickname he had for you... god, it shouldn’t have so much power over you. But you found yourself opening the door anyways. You glared up at him, ignoring the relief in his blue eyes. “What do you want?”

“I want to come home,” he said.

You scoffed. “Tired of the bounty hunter life already?”

“Tired of being away from the one thing that matters in my life,” he corrected.

You paused. He always knew just what to say. It was what you hated and loved about him: his beautiful words full of empty promises. “You should leave. You’re doing no one any good by being here.”

He took a step towards you and his scent overwhelmed your senses. That faint hint of his cologne--something woodsy--mixed with the smell that was pure August wrapped around you in a phantom embrace. You practically whimpered. The day that smell had vanished from your sheets and clothes had been a hard one. You’d wanted that smell back ever since you lost it. Now that it was here, overwhelming you, you only wanted it to disappear again. “I needed to see you. I needed to make sure you were alright, that no one had touched you.”

You forced yourself to hold his gaze as you snapped back, “You’ve worked hard to make sure that the world has no idea who I am, so no, no one’s come after me.”

He flinched like you’d slapped him. The hurt in his eyes was surprising; he was usually a mask of indifference, refusing to let the world into his mind.

“You said you needed to see me,” you repeated. “Well, you’ve seen me. Now leave.”

“January,” he said again, stepping even closer to you. You were now pressed against your apartment’s foyer wall, stuck between that and August. “The promise of a fresh start.”

You knew what he was saying without having to actually say it. He was asking for forgiveness--for abandoning you like he always does, for making you worried sick for six months straight that each new day you’d wake up and hear the news that he was dead. “I’ve given you plenty of fresh starts, and they always end the same. With you running off on some new adventure and me all alone and broken hearted. You ruin me every time.”

“My adventure is when I’m with you,” he corrected. “My missions are just work.”

He was so close to you, so large against your small frame, that you couldn’t look anywhere but at him. His shoes brushed against your bare toes and he eyed the thin tank top and booty shorts you were dressed in. The look made heat spread through your body and your thighs clenched together. It was always so easy for him to get under your skin. You hated it but you were helpless to fight against it.

“I missed you,” he said in a rare moment of vulnerability. “I missed falling asleep beside you every night. I missed coming home to a warm bed with you in it, your legs all tangled up in the sheets as you dreamed about me--about us. I missed touching you, missed marking what was mine.”

A whine caught in your throat at his words. You were suddenly glad to be leaning against the wall because your legs almost gave out at the thought of him taking you, fucking you, claiming you.

He moved slowly as he brought his hand up to your face, letting you push him away at any second. But you couldn’t--not when he was all you could hear and see and smell. He hadn’t even touched you and already you were bending to his will. His fingers brushed across your cheek in a gentle caress. “Tell me you missed me just as much, Y/N.”

Oh, just the way he said your name! You gave in and leaned into his touch as his thumb stroked your cheek.

“Or tell me you didn’t and I’ll leave,” he promised. “I’ll leave and I’ll... I’ll never come back. I’ll leave you alone. If that’s what you want, you’ll never have to see me again.”

“August,” you sighed, closing your eyes. You couldn’t stand to be under his gaze any longer.

“Yes?” His tone was hopeful, eager.

You opened your mouth before you fully knew what you would say--I missed you too? Get the hell out of my apartment? Take me over your knee right now? But you never got the chance to find out. Before any words could leave your mouth you both were silenced by the loudest stomach growl you’d ever heard. You frowned, looking between him and his stomach. The blush that crept onto his face told you that you hadn’t imagined the sound.

“When was the last time you ate?” You questioned, your maternal instincts winning out over the anger and lust burning inside you.

August didn’t care of himself. He only allowed himself the basest human pleasure when he absolutely needed it. He was like that about everything--food, sleep, warmth, sex even. You wouldn’t be surprised if he said he hadn’t eaten anything at all today.

“I can’t remember,” he admitted.

You scoffed at him. You knew what that meant. It had been at least a day and half since he’d stopped to even stuff a crumb in his mouth. You dragged him to your kitchen.

“You can stay for dinner,” you allowed as you made your way over to the pantry, “and then you’re leaving.”

Because you had all the ingredients for it (and because--though you refused to admit it to yourself--you actually had missed him) you made ratatouille. It had been August’s favorite dish since you’d known him. He hovered over your shoulder as you danced around the kitchen, putting the vegetables and ham together. You finally managed to distract him with an appetizer of warm french rolls and cheese. He was insistent on helping you, though, and you finally sent him off to get a bottle of wine. It was quiet for several minutes as the meal cooked in the oven and you realized only when he came back that August had gone to the store a block away to buy some pinot.

“I have wine here,” you said, watching him scour your cabinets for wine glasses.

“I love you darling, I really do, but your taste in wine is...” He hesitated as he grabbed two glasses and brought them to the island, searching for the right word. “Your taste in wine leaves much to be desired.”

“Oh?” You scoffed. “And you’re so much wiser than me?”

He gave you a look. “I’ve spent the last decade and a half going all over Europe on behalf of my job. I’ve lost count of the amount of wineries I’ve been to, the amount of wine I’ve tasted. I’d say my palette is a little bit more advanced than yours, sweetheart.”

You just rolled your eyes. He was right. And you hated it. He knew more about the world than you ever would and you often found yourself envious of the depth of his worldly knowledge. He’d been to every part of the world and you’ve never been outside of your home state.

He poured some wine for both of you. You took a small sip and felt your tastebuds water. Whatever wine he’d bought--you hadn’t seen the label as he’d poured it, which was probably on purpose--was an explosion of sweetness in your mouth. You savored the aftertaste which tasted strongly of berry.

“I told you I know my wine,” he laughed. He’d watched you as you’d taken your first sip, wanting to gauge your reaction.

You just rolled your eyes and watched him as he took a small sip himself. A drop of the wine caught on the edge of his lip and his tongue flicked out to lick it up. Your gaze locked on his mouth, on that tongue, and suddenly your body was engulfed in heat as you remembered how that tongue felt on your skin--

The oven beeped. You jumped and lost your train of thought. It took mental effort to force the blush on your face to fade. August once again hovered over you as you pulled the food out and set it on the stove.

“That’s the best thing I’ve ever smelt,” he sighed, his voice right behind you.

“You may know your wine, August Walker, but I know how to cook.”

...

August’s plate was clear in less than a minute. After you’d lied and convinced him you weren’t hungry, he ate half of your plate, too. You couldn’t help it: you liked watching him eat. Admittedly, you knew it was strange. But he satisfied his body’s cravings and needs so rarely, held onto his self-control for so long, that it was a true sight to watch him give in.

Once he’d finished the food, he carried the dishes to your tiny sink and began washing them. Now it was your turn to be insistent in helping. He finally gave in when you used the tactic of pure logic--if you wash and I dry, we’ll be done in two minutes, you’d reasoned. He reluctantly agreed. You two fell into a silent rhythm for no longer than two minutes--just as you’d predicted. He rinsed his hands off when he was done.

That was when you noticed it.

The scar.

August Walker had worked for the CIA for years. You didn’t know exactly what he did (he was never allowed to share specifics) but you knew it was dangerous. He had scars all over his body. You’d seen them all. So you were used to the sight of him being covered in thick, pale scar tissue all over--but this scar was different.

You reached for his wrist and pulled it closer to you, moving too fast for him to stop you. You ran your thumb over the length of it. The scarring ran from the inside of his wrist to just a few inches below the inside of his elbow. The scar was straight and even. This cut had been made on purpose.

Tears were in your eyes when you looked back at him. “Tell me...” Your voice shook at the knot in your throat. “Tell me you didn’t do this to yourself. Tell me this was someone else--tell me you didn’t...” You couldn’t even finish the sentence. The mere thought of it was unbearable.

“I did it,” he admitted after a moment of hesitation.

“Oh!” You clasped a hand over your mouth as you began to cry. You didn’t want to picture it. The thought of him in that much pain...

He wiped the tears that slipped down your face. His blue eyes watched you, pained, as you continued to cry. “I did this to myself, yes, but I didn’t want to die. I’ve never been suicidal. You don’t have to worry about that.”

It took you a while to calm down even after his proclamation. But finally you managed to say, “Tell me.”

“You know I can’t--”

“Fuck the rules, fuck the secrets!” you exclaimed. “Tell me why the hell you cut your wrist open if you didn’t actually want to kill yourself.”

He hesitated, but one look in your eyes told him that you weren’t going to let this go. So he sighed and said, “I got kidnapped by some people. They tortured me for information. I knew eventually they would break me down. So I cut my wrist.”

“You wanted to die before they could get any information out of you,” you realized.

He nodded curtly.

You looked him deep in the eye as you said, “If you ever die, August, I’ll kill you.”

He smiled faintly. It didn’t reach his eyes, which were still sad at the sight of you in pain. You rested your forehead against his chest and breathed him in. Though he’d hurt you time and again, you loved him. The thought of him gone from this earth...

You pulled back and kissed him. It wasn’t rough and quick and needy, but rather slow and full of love. You wanted to show him how much he mattered to you, even after all this time.

“You don’t get to die on me, August Walker,” you whispered against his lips.

His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling him flush against his wide chest as he kissed you back just as intensely and full of love. “I’ll do my best.” After a moment he added, “how drunk are you?”

“Why?” you asked with a nervous laugh. You hadn’t expected the change in subject.

“Because I don’t want to feel guilty about fucking you tonight,” he said bluntly.

Your cheeks burned at his words, at the images they brought to life in your mind... “I’m drunk enough to let you fuck me, but not too drunk you should feel guilty about it.”

He smiled against your mouth. “That’s the perfect amount.”

...

THERE WILL BE A PART 2 (this time with smut)

#august walker #august walker imagine #august walker smut #august walker mission impossible #henry cavill #henry cavill mission impossible #henry cavill smut

[theres-a-goldensky]

26 + 2 Various BL Series Fic Recs

Fandoms included in this fic rec list: Love By Chance, TharnType, Until We Meet Again, My Engineer, 2 Moons, HIStory3: Trapped (plus a bit of bonus Theory of Love and WHY R U?)

I’ve found a handful of good fics for all of these tiny pairings that I am newly obsessed with, and I thought I’d share them with you if you’re also looking for something good to read. Please, if you have recs of your own, point me in the direction of any other good stuff!

As ever, feel free to reblog and check out my other rec lists for the following fandoms:

The Untamed list one and two - various pairings, mostly Wangxian

IT chapter 2 list one and two - Reddie 

Good Omens - Aziraphale/Crowley

Or just head over to my bookmarks on AO3.

(All recs are complete) (I’ve noted pairings, length, and rating, but not any warnings or additional tags.)

** denotes personal favorite

LOVE BY CHANCE / THARNTYPE

1. the count up series by sweetiejelly - Tin/Can - ~34,000 words, explicit - A fix-it fic post-canon where Tin and Can slowly work out their issues with some missteps and learning along the way.

So two weeks later, when Can first does it, Tin doesn't know what to do. For the longest while, he just turns off his phone screen. And then turns it back on.

good night, tin. it's been a while but i promised to say good night. so, good night, sleep well.

Every damn time the text is still there.

In the end, Tin deletes it.

The next morning, Can does it again.

good morning, tin. looks like rain today. don't forget your umbrella.

Tin deletes it.

The texts keep coming.

2. ** LBC Aftermath series by Mara - LBC/TharnType crossover- ~6700 words, mature - Were you too horrified by Techno’s ending in LBC? This author feels your pain and did her part to get some justice for Techno. This fic has zero sympathy for Kengkla, which I deeply appreciated. This will help you work out some of your anger. It features LBC!Techno and the TharnType versions of Tharn and Type. Mind the warnings, since this deals with the serious consequences of Kengkla’s actions.

Kengkla stayed at the house through the morning and Techno was so jumpy he nearly leaped out of his skin every time Kla looked at him or talked to him. Even though Kla had explained what happened and how he wasn’t upset to be dating, Techno still felt weird. He kind of wished he remembered what had happened. A guy should remember how he lost his virginity, right?

Kla grabbed him in a big hug and Techno froze, managing a weak grin when Kla pulled back to smile at him. “I’ve got to go home now. But I’ll call you later. Let me know if you go somewhere.”

“O-okay.” Techno stared as the boy let himself out the front door.

3. 5 + 1 by strokeofluck - Tin/Can- ~3600 words, rated general - This is a sweet story about the times when Pete sees Tin having feelings for Can. 

Pete weighed his options as he glanced back and forth between Tin and Can. Can didn’t seem to be bothered by the whole thing, he even had a shy smile on his face. Or at least, Pete thought it was a shy smile, he had never really seen this kind of expression coming from Can before.

He could let this whole thing go, he supposed, but he didn’t really want to. It was time for him to finally say to Tin: I told you so.

“You were born in Bangkok,” he said, casting a wide net and hoping Can would find himself caught in it.

Can did.

4. That Testified Surprise by Mara - Techno/Tharn/Type - ~7000 words, mature - This is a LBC canon rewrite that stars the TharnType version of all three characters. Type realizes something is not...quite...right with Kengkla and invites Techno to stay with him and Tharn instead of going home drunk.

Pouring Techno into the passenger seat, Type sat down in the driver’s seat and pulled the phone out to check it, entering the passcode. (The passcode was the birthday of Thai national football team captain Siwarak Tedsungnoen, of course. Duh.)

Fuck, it looked like Nic had been either texting or calling every 20 minutes since they got to the bar. What was up there?

Scrolling back through the evening’s texts, Type scowled harder. Loving brother or not, this was fucking creepy. Going back farther, it looked like it was a pattern. Did the kid do anything other than pester his brother about his whereabouts?

THARNTYPE

5. everything he wants by minkit - ~5100 words, explicit - Type accidentally ruins one of Tharn’s shirts and agrees to do whatever Tharn wants to make up for it. Which means it’s porn stretched over the bare bones of a plot, and it’s great. 

Tharn’s hands moved across the bed, slowly, inch by inch and it was frustrating because Type knew they were heading to him, but Tharn took his sweet time. And then they were covering his hands and Tharn’s face was mere centimeters from his and Type could barely breathe. It took everything he had not to lean forward and capture those lips that also belonged to him, but he had a feeling if he tried, Tharn wouldn’t let him. He had that look on his face and Type knew what it meant.

He knew he was in for a long rest of the night.

6. You’ve Got Mail by perthbysaint - ~7800 words, explicit - Type sends Tharn nudes at the most inconvenient times.

A selfie? From Type? Tharn was thanking all of his lucky stars as he happily taps to load the image. The picture loads and Tharn’s phone slips from his suddenly lax grip. Convinced he couldn’t have just seen what he thought he just saw, he picks his phone up hastily and stares very intently at the picture.

It’s a mirror selfie, obviously taken in a changing room, but that thought comes secondary to thighs. Type is holding the camera in front of his face to take the picture, shirt clenched in his other hand and pulled up slightly to show off the shorts. The fucking shorts. He had seen Type in his soccer gear before and yes, Type has most definitely asked for the wrong size and Tharn is more grateful than he’s ever been for anything in his whole life. The shorts are riding up so high they can’t cover more than a few inches of skin, Type’s smooth, powerful thighs on full display. On the inside of his left thigh, there’s a tiny purple mark peeking out from under the bottom of the shorts. Tharn knows exactly what it is because he was the one who left it there just two days ago when he sucked marks into Type’s thighs for a half-hour before he slung Type’s legs over his shoulders and ate him out until Type was sobbing fat tears and begging Tharn to let him come.

7. pet names series by LokelaniRose - ~50,000 words, explicit - A series of post-episode fics that gives us the sex that the show only hinted at, starting with the shower scene.

Tharn prides himself on his self-control. All his passion and intensity is saved for his music, when he’s safely behind a drum kit and can let it all out. He’s never been as irritated by anyone else as he is by Type and all his playground bullying nonsense. Something about the other boy just shakes something loose inside him, rattles at Tharn’s iron discipline until he has to grit his teeth constantly not to just – what? Kiss him? Kill him? Tharn has enough composure (and pride) to put up a front that’s all smiles and wry amusement, but really he regularly skips between one of two daydreams – twisting Type’s head off or fucking him into the ground.

(Tharn is absolutely not going to admit to the third set of daydreams, of curling up around Type when he’s cold or cheering him on at matches or bringing him home to meet Tharn’s father. Nope, no, definitely not.)

2MOONS SERIES

8. ** The universe where we do not commit reckless, unlubricated buttsex by startledoctopus - Forth/Beam - ~8700 words, explicit - This is a great story about Beam giving in and trying to seduce Forth the same way he seduced all of those girls in his past. This Forth is great, and the story retcons their first time to something far more pleasant for Beam.

   "We're heading into a unit on disorders of the spine and I need to review my basic skeletal and muscular anatomy. But it feels stupid to keep studying these weird-looking diagrams and drawings." None of this was, strictly speaking, factual, but an engineering major wouldn't know any different. Beam gathered up all his bravado, walked behind Forth, and began rucking up his shirts as if this were completely normal.

   "What! I..."

   "Shut up, I need to look at a real back so I know what I'll be looking at as a doctor." Forth let him take the shirts off, glancing back at him several times but giving in meekly to Beam's stern look. Forth shuffled the papers some more.

   "All right. Okay, um...Ah!" Beam smirked at Forth's reaction as he ran his thumbs down the nape of his neck.

9. Good Things Come To by sweetiejelly - Ming/Kit - ~4300 words, explicit - Kit gets drunk and reveals more of his feelings for Ming than he probably means to.

"Hmm." Kit closes his eyes and leans his head back on the headrest. "Ming, Ming, Ming. Do you know your name's a kiss? I'm kissing the air everytime I say 'Ming'!" Kit pops his mouth and it pops Ming's mind a bit. "And then I think about kissing you. Why do you make me think about you so damn much? You're so annoying, Ming. No one's ever..." and Kit leans to the side, almost like he's going to conk out or throw up, only to straighten back up. "... made me this crazy."

Oh shit. Ming doesn't know what to do with all of this information. He knew somewhere deep down that Kit likes him. Kit's eyes can't lie. Kit's mouth can't either, the cusses coming out whenever he's keyed up and flustered, and then there are his kisses.

10 + 11. ** how to fail flirt your way into his heart (a guide by Kit) and a little conversation (and a little action please) by sweetiejelly - Ming/Kit - ~30,000 words, explicit in the second part - This story makes a tiny plot divergence. It has Kit put a little more effort into finding out if Ming is really into Yo and then from there, it loosely follows the plot of the show with some key differences. I really enjoyed this.

"Can I have your number?" Kit mentally face-palms. Why? Damn Pha. Damn Beam. Just damn everything, ugh. He has never flirted in his life. Pin asked him out, okay? He doesn't know how to do this. "I'm Kit, Phana's friend," he says, trying to make it less weird.

"I'm Ming. And of course, P'Kit!" Ming flashes him an easy grin and holds out his hand.

Oh right, the phone. Kit shoves it at Ming, nearly hitting him in the chest. Great, he's acing this.

Ming smiles at him, bemused or confused, probably both, and brushes his hand, totally unnecessarily, over the back of Kit's hand as he takes the phone. "In case of emergency, right?" Ming looks up at him from under his lashes and boy, this nong is brazen.

12. ** In Control series by LokelaniRose - Ming/Kit - ~27,000 words, explicit - Kit struggles to tell Ming that he wants something other than the careful, gentle sex they’ve been having. Ming discovers that Kit has some anxiety and panic problems. He also discovers what helps him feel better. [spoilers: these two things are connected.] I love how attentive and caring Ming is throughout this series. The anxious Kit also rings true to the character we saw on the show.

But now that Kit is fretting over things, he might as well fret over this as well. So Ming is great in bed. And let’s be honest, Kit probably isn’t. He hasn’t had a hundred previous partners – okay, tiny exaggeration, but still – and doesn’t know all the fancy moves and techniques and tricks…and just like everything else, in bed Ming is somehow casual and sincere at the same time. He never seems to want anything except what Kit wants, is always happy to do whatever, to take his time making slow, gentle love to Kit. Kit knows that he always comes at least – he secretly really likes it when Ming comes, he’s not quite sure why – but what if there’s more that Kit could be doing, to make it better for him? If Kit was better in bed maybe it would make up for being a shitty boyfriend in other areas, one who can’t be nice in public or talk about his feelings.

UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN

13. another nightmare fic by itsmylifekay - Win/Team - ~2300 words, not rated - Team tries to sleep without Win and it doesn’t go well. 

Team’s room feels suffocating, the air too thick and the space too dark and the covers sticking to his skin with sweat. His breaths are too loud in the quiet, but the quiet itself is deafening. It reminds him of the water. The muted sounds. The frantic pounding of his heart. (The same one he feels now echoed in his chest.)

Flashes of the dream come back to him unbidden.

Everything is too dark, too bright, no way to see what way is up or what way is down. He’s trapped. Can’t get out. Can’t breathe.

14. ** Different With You by blackrose9212 - Win/Team - ~6900 words, teen - It’s open swim week, which means that the swimming club offers free lessons to any of the students who would like to participate. Team doesn’t understand why his teammates hate it so much - until he does. Great jealousy in this one from both sides. 

“Nice to meet you,” the boy gushes. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’d like to join your group. Auntie said there needs to be at least three people, and no one was sitting across from you two. I’ve been paying attention so I already have ideas. Is that okay?” Team watches as he pulls out his books and drops them onto the table, pushing them a little farther out so they’re nearly touching Win’s notebook.

Team shrugs. “Sure, that’s fine. I don’t think Win has been paying attention so I’m glad you have an idea of what’s going on.”

Win hits him lightly at the back of the hand and Film giggles behind his hand. “Oh, no, P’Win looks very smart. I’m sure he’s been listening.” He looks at Win and smiles a little, blushing when Win gives him a smile back.

Team looks between the two of them. Then back at Film, who’s watching Win leaf through his literature textbook like he’s never seen anything so beautiful, and then past Film at the table he left from, where he sees three boys, laughing behind their hands and making cooing faces.

15. seven hundred thirteen by Kiranokira - Win/Team - ~6800 words, mature - Win spends two years abroad in England, and he and Team have to navigate a long distance relationship. It’s very sweet and written very true to life. 

“I kind of hoped you were going to show up at the airport tomorrow morning and chase the plane,” Win says. He kisses Team’s hair, lingering there to memorize the fresh, clear scent.

Team says, “Is it weird that I thought about doing that?” and Win feels him smile against his shoulder.

It’s late, nearly nine thirty, and Win had plans of how to spend tonight that can’t be realized anymore. He wanted to invite Team to dinner with his family. He wanted to play video games with Team and View. He wanted to talk about London with Waan and Team. He wanted to include Team in his family’s warmth in some small way, to make him feel less lonely.

He can’t do any of that now but he still wants to sneak Team upstairs and have him in his arms all night. He wouldn’t, but he wants to. It’s been a month since he moved off campus permanently, and weeks since he was last able to spend a night alone with Team.

16. ** You Can Cry by Kiranokira - Win/Team - ~19,600 words, mature - Win goes missing while on vacation with some friends. Team is left at home trying to handle it. I like the way the author built up to the accident happening. They did a good job creating tension and showing us exactly how Team felt about Win. And spoilers, this story has a happy ending.

“You’re going to fail out of university,” Team tells him. “You’re not really going, are you?”

Win rolls onto his side and perches his cheek on his hand. “What if I say yes?” he asks. “Will you miss me?”

Team’s warning look is more venomous than usual. “Not at all,” Team says, and Win smirks because that isn’t true and they both know it. “You still shouldn’t go. What if you miss the flight back? You’ll fail out and I’ll break up with you for being a dumbass.”

The very recent phenomenon of Team acknowledging that they’re a couple has its usual melting effect on Win’s heart.

2GETHER

17. ** Love Songs on Our Skin series by Kari_Kurofai - Sarawat/Tine - ~15,700 words, explicit - A soulmark AU where Tine is born with the notes to a song that hasn’t yet been written wrapped around his chest. I enjoyed how Tine’s obliviousness in the show carries over to this fic. 

Only Mr. Chic would have a song no one had ever fucking heard of permanently etched on his chest. For fuck's sake .

Still, he waves it off, and he tries not to look too closely at other people's marks. Tries being the key word. He doesn't envy the elegant watercolors of a guitar pick and an open novel he catches sight of on the wrists of some couple's interlinked hands when he's in town. And he certainly doesn't envy the dude he once saw in a coffee shop with the words " I hate you " scrawled across the back of his neck. But yeah, okay, he might be a little jealous of the people who are lucky enough to have something as simple as their soulmate's name on their skin. That definitely isn't fair.

"Why couldn't it at least have been a Scrubb song?" he asks the mirror as he wipes it clear shower-born condensation. The mirror and him are well acquainted with this conversation by now. In fact, the mirror sees the stupid mark more than anyone, so it might as well put up with his equally stupid questions. "It could have been 'Together.' Just think of it, how romantic it would be to meet some cute girl's eyes after bumping into them at a concert, my favorite song playing . . ." He draws a nail over the winding bars of the music on his chest, frowning. "That would be so much easier."

18. Drown Your Sorrows by HyacinthsSoul - 2gether/Theory of Love - Sarawat and Third meet at a bar and bond over being in love with oblivious men.

“No, he’s an angel,” Sarawat says. “Unfortunately he’s a very stupid, very straight angel.”

“Mine’s stupid too,” the other man admits. “But definitely no angel. I’m Third, by the way,” he adds, offering a slender hand to shake.

“Sarawat,” says Sarawat. “Can I buy you another? I think we’re drinking the same thing, although I can’t remember what it’s called.”

20. ** Your Body Is My Instrument by Kari_Kurofai - Sarawat/Tine - ~12,000 words, explicit - This fic does a good job doing what, in this reccer’s humble opinion, the series failed to: showing Tine attracted to Sarawat. There’s great first time sex and some fun sexual tension. Plus, we get to see them switch off, which is extremely rare in BL. And most importantly: hand kink.

It starts innocently enough. Or, well, innocently enough for a guy whose first words to him were, “Keep looking at me like that and I’ll kiss you till you drop.” So, you know. It starts kinda like that.

They’ve been officially dating for a grand sum total of three days and altogether not that much has changed. Except that Sarawat touches him more now. Normally this would be fine, no big deal, right? But Sarawat has magic, evil hands, and apparently all he has to do is glance Tine’s way to deduce the exact right places and ways to touch Tine to drive him up the fucking wall.

And the worst part is it’s almost never the same place or the same way twice, and the only warning Tine ever gets is that sneaky little glint Sarawat gets in his eyes just before he does it, the bastard.

MY ENGINEER

21. Cool Boy(friend) by HyacinthsSoul - Ram/King - ~22,000 words, explicit - So this is technically a WIP, but each chapter feels like a completed fic without a cliffhanger or anything. This is a very sweet, comfortable story about King and Ram getting to know each other as their relationship develops.

In the selfie King sends, he’s holding up a full shot glass while someone’s arm reaches into the frame to hand him another kind of drink, something tall with a straw and a paper umbrella. Ram frowns. Whose arm is that? The person is wearing a red long-sleeved shirt, which doesn’t match what any of their friend group was wearing, and the engineer bar doesn’t offer table service.

Frowning, Ram looks back through the previous photos until he spots a detail he’d overlooked before: a red-shirted man at a neighboring table. He’s visible in the background of two or three pictures taken by Tee, and in each of them he’s staring intently at King.

Not that it’s any of Ram’s business. Not that he cares.

HISTORY3: TRAPPED

22. it’s too late (to turn back now) by stebeee - Tang Yi/Meng Shao Fei - ~7200 words, general audiences - Canon divergence fic where Tang Yi pushes Shao Fei away after he saves Hong Ye in order to try and protect him. Shao Fei reacts to that about as well as you’d expect.

“Tang Yi, what do you mean-“

“I think you’ve fooled around for long enough,” Tang Yi interrupts, his voice cold, nothing like the man who had dabbed at his lips with a cotton bud last night, the man who had smiled at him when he made the cannon joke.

“You’ve disrupted my life, and the life of my family and friends in the past few weeks, Meng Shao Fei. This has gone for long enough,” he continues, unwavering. “I don’t want to have anything more to do with you. Take a good rest here in the hospital, and I’ll get someone to pack up your things back at the house. Jack will deliver it back to your apartment.”

23 + 24. ** just waiting, waiting (on you) and between you and me by stebeee - Tang Yi/Meng Shao Fei - ~16,000 words, general audiences - These are stories about how Shao Fei and the rest of the gang deal over the years when Tang Yi is in jail. Found family fics are my jam, so I loved this.

The thing is, it’s been almost three months of this. 90 days, give or take. 2,160 hours. 129,600 minutes. And more than 7 million seconds of this — not having Tang Yi at his side.

Shao Fei wonders for a moment if he will ever stop seeing Tang Yi in every corner of the house. When he comes down the stairs in the morning, some part of him expects to see Tang Yi standing at the kitchen island with a bright smile, asking him if he wants jam with his toast that morning. Shao Fei sees Tang Yi in that apron he loves, cooking at the stove when he fixes himself dinner, alone in the spacious kitchen. Seeing Tang Yi’s favourite blue bathrobe, Shao Fei can almost see Tang Yi leaving the bathroom, his hair all wet and falling over his eyes.

25. amuse bouche by sarahyyy - Jack/Zhao Zi - ~2400 words, general audiences - This is more of Jack seducing Zhao Zi through food and attention. So basically an extension of the show. Mother hen Jack is the cutest.

“Jack?” Zhao Zi murmurs blearily. “Why are you here?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” Jack shoots back, herding Zhao Zi back into the house. He checks for Zhao Zi’s temperature with the back of his hand. “Fever?”

“Just the flu for now, I think?” Zhao Zi says.

Jack purses his lips. “Have you had anything to eat?”

“I had some bread earlier?” Zhao Zi says, but he also looks shifty enough that Jack mostly takes it with a grain of salt.

26. Absolutely Nothing Goes Wrong by anon - Jack/Zhao Zi - ~4500 words, teen - This is an AU where Zhao Zi is the son of a rival mob boss, but he’s still, you know HIMSELF. And when his father says he’s useless, he decides to prove him wrong by seducing Tang Yi’s second-in-command. It’s absolutely adorable.

The man pulled him by the arm, resisting Zhao Zi’s attempts to unhook his claws without causing a scene.

“Hey, stop grabbing me!” he shouted, as the other man played deaf.

“While I admit this is a very loud bar, I didn’t think it was quite so easy to mishear what this young man just yelled straight into your ear,” a newcomer who’d witnessed their conflict said lightly as he walked up to them. His words were accompanied by a wide, almost chilling smile. Zhao Zi blinked once and the odd peculiarity of that smile vanished, leaving just a regular smile in its place. He must’ve just been imagining things under the harsh shadows of the dimly lit bar.

AND +2

Because I’m shameless, I’ll add my own two fics to the end, if you’re interested.

WHY R U?

27. Sorry A Thousand Times - Fighter/Tutor - ~3200 words, explicit - This is a canon divergence for the series finale. I needed more catharsis after the intensity of episode 12.

Tutor narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists at his sides. He took a deep breath. “How many times do I have to tell you to leave me alone before you listen?” he asked. I don’t know how many more times I can bring myself to say it.

“Only once,” Fight said and then added, “if you mean it.”

Tutor crossed his arms over his chest and said, “What makes you think I don’t mean it now?”

The corner of Fight’s mouth turned up and he took a step closer. Tutor stumbled back until he was stopped by his legs hitting the edge of the bed. Fight reached out a hand and gently ran the back of his fingers over the line of Tutor’s jaw.

Until We Meet Again

28. Dream On - Win/Team - 8900 words, explicit - Takes place alongside show canon, so that we see how the bed sharing began and how Win and Team’s relationship developed over that year.

“Do you want to do well tomorrow?” Win asked, throwing one of his legs over both of Team’s.

“Yes,” Team said as he did his best to put some space between them on the tiny mattress.

“Then you need to get some sleep. I’m helping.”

“How is this helping?” Team demanded.

“Would you stop…” Win said, shifting closer every time Team pulled away. “Five minutes, Team. Just be still for five minutes, okay?”

#until we meet again #uwma #win/team #winteam #fic recs #fic rec list #bl fic recs #j9 #2moons #2moons2 #mingkit #ming/kit #forthbeam #forth/beam #love by chance #lbc #tincan #tin/can #mean/plan #2wish #uwma fic #2moons fic #tharntype #tharntype fic #mew/gulf #history 3: trapped #jack/zhao #tang yi/meng shao fei #history 3: trapped fic #lbc techno fix-it

[thesassenachswiftie]

Chapter 2: “You Need To Calm Down)

Read on AO3

Summary:

Chapter 2 is here! It's time for Claire and Jamie's first fight but that also it's time for their first make-up sex. This is my first time writing Smut but @statell assures me I did a good job. If that's really not your thing (I mean you are reading OL fanfic so it probably is), it's all the big paragraph near the end and the two dialogue paragraphs after you can easily skip to the last 3 dialogue paragraphs without losing the plot. Big thanks to everyone following along on this journey and all the kudos and comments on the last chapter.

This chapter is not only inspired by "You Need to Calm Down" but also by "The Reckoning" any quotes borrowed from either of these works belong to their respective author whom I am indebted to and admire greatly.

Notes:

First of all, I’m on Twitter now @sassenachswifty.

Second of all, There was a short lived comment on AO3 about Jo's pronouns on my last chapter. I genuinely think the commenter realized their mistake and deleted it before I had a chance to respond--which is fine and good, heaven knows I've made mistakes with pronouns and felt weird and caught of guard about them and all of that. Basically they were saying the they/them pronons were not grammatically correct and were distracting to the reader. I get that, I totally do, it feels uncomfortable because we were never taught about the singular they in school and it looks/sounds weird if you're not used to it. However, the sigular they has been recognized by APA, MLA and I believe Chicago style and is, therefore grammatically correct. It's something I'm getting used to as a writer and it's something we can try to get used to as readers as we move forward into a more progressive society. Our grandkids are going to make fun of us someday for struggling with pronouns. I just wanted to say it's ok to struggle, it's not ok to dismiss (which I genuinely believe the commenter was not doing). Jo came to me as a nonbinary character, and while it is a good exercise in pronoun usage for me as an author, that is not their primary function in the story, they are there to be Claire’s friend first and foremost. They/them are Jo's pronouns and I cannot and will not call them anything else because that would be disrespectful to them. My only other option would be to use "Jo" in every instance where he/she/her/him would come up which would be annoying, repetative and frankly, bad writing. Thank you for coming to my TED talk, now on with the show!

Chapter 2: “You Need To Calm Down”

Claire awoke in Jamie’s bed early on Saturday morning.  It was graduation day, but she was definitely not walking the stage.  Still laying on her side, she picked up her phone off the nightstand and began mindlessly scrolling Facebook, stopping at a collection of photos from an end of semester happy hour the night before.  Frank was there as well as several of their mutual friends.  Were they still friends? Probably not anymore, who knows if they ever were.  Claire tapped from the photos posted by Gillian to the tag that took her to Frank’s profile.  She scrolled down his feed to see if there were any new updates. Other than the pictures, it was the same barely cryptic statuses that were clearly throwing shade her way to anyone that knew.  In a tweet? That’s a cop-out. Taking shots at me like it's Patrón, she mused to herself, recalling the pictures from the night before. Claire began swiping through Frank’s photos going back further and further.  Her and Frank in front of the house with the “sold” sign in the yard.  A candid picture she took of Frank in a coffee shop one day.  Brilliant, smiling faces of them and their friends all dressed up at their New Year’s Eve party--many of the people pictured in the photos from last night. Frank proudly standing with his arm around her, Claire beaming and angling her hand just so a few days after they got engaged.  Claire was so engrossed in these images she didn’t realize Jamie had awoken behind her.  He leaned over to plant a kiss on that spot just behind her ear, pausing when he saw what she was looking at, “Damn Sassenach, it’s seven AM for Chrissakes” he hissed.

Claire’s face flushed immediately. She had been caught.  She didn’t even know why she was doing what she was doing, but she felt ashamed, defensive, embarrassed, and justified all at once.  She swiped out of her Facebook app instantly but it was too late.  He had seen and the damage had been done. She couldn’t speak, she didn’t have any good excuses, and she definitely couldn’t turn to look at Jamie. She set the phone back down on the nightstand and burrowed her curly head under the pillow trying to avoid his gaze.  She couldn’t see his face, but she knew Jamie was watching her intently waiting for an explanation.

“Hey, are you ok? I dinna mean to snap at ye Claire, It’s just early and I dinna expect to see ye looking at pictures of your ex after what I thought was such a satisfying night. Am I not good enough for ye Claire?”  His tone started gentle and caring, but his veins were pulsing with jealous rage and his voice got more angry and frantic as he continued.  “Look at me, Claire!”

Claire didn’t like being told what to do, especially not with the newfound feminist energy Jo had ignited in her.  She hoisted herself out from her cocoon, and sprang up to face him. “I don’t have to do what you tell me to. You need, to calm down, you’re being too loud!”

 He made a distinctly Scottish noise--“Hmpph. That’s not what ye said last night Sassenach” he growled.  He couldn’t help flirting with her even in his anger. She looked so bonny, bare-breasted with her curls splayed every which way, the fire of her anger alight in her whisky eyes--frightening and sexy at the same time.

Claire wasn’t amused by his quip, or by the tone of voice in which he said it, “you need to just stop, like can you just not? I don’t like it one bit!”

“Not what, Claire? Not want ye only for myself? Not feel jealous seeing pictures of that rat bastard with his smug grin and his arm around ye to be the first thing I see when I wake up in the morning? You do belong to me, whether ye like it or not. Why are you mad? I’m the only one allowed to be mad, Claire! Yer mine, damn ye Claire! Mine, and I wilna share ye, with a man or a memory or anything whatsoever”

Her glass face broke before his eyes as he raised his voice louder.  Her anger had turned to something fragile, something Jamie was afraid he would break.  Even still, she spoke softly, but confidently, “I don’t belong to you or anyone, I’m my own person. You need to just take several seats” She glanced away from him, trying to keep her composure.  

Controlling his urge to scream, he replied “I know that, that’s not what I meant.  I ain’t trying to mess with who you are or your self expression, I mean that I am yours just as much as you are mine”

Damn, he’s good, thought Claire as she met his gaze again.  His passion, even when directed towards anger, was still sexy.

“Claire, I see you over there on the internet all the time, this isn’t the first time you’ve done this is it?”

She nodded in agreement, embarrassed, but somehow she felt safe admitting it to Jamie.  She was beginning to realize just how much he truly cared about her.  As strange as it seemed, through this small fight, their relationship was moving from simply mutual, passionate attraction to something deeper.  It might have been there all along beyond the urges of the flesh, but she was just now truly seeing it.  It was exciting and terrifying all at the same time.

“Listen, I’ve learned a lesson that stressing and obsessing about somebody else is no fun.” Jamie disclosed, trying to restore the peace. “He’s not worth your time if he let a girl like you go on the drop of a hat like that.” This made Claire wince internally, hoping he didn’t see, there was more to it than that.  He didn’t seem to notice and continued, “What we have is like sunshine, but you act like you would rather be in the dark.”  He reached for her arm, caressing it gently.

“You’ve figured me out.  You’re right, I don’t know why I keep checking on him. I guess I’m hoping I’ll find out something horrible has happened to him; but I promise, only you have me.”

“I mean to have you Claire, I am your master and you are mine. It seems I cannot possess your soul without losing my own.”  Both of Jamie’s hands were on Claire’s arms now, gripping her more firmly now. They were drawing closer to each other, the passion of their anger still surging in their veins. “I want you Claire, I want you so much I can scarcely breathe. Will you have me?”

“Yes.”

Their lips met with a fervour unlike any they had experienced before, hands caressing everywhere. Claire moaned into Jamie’s mouth as his hand cupped her breast, stroking her nipple vigorously with his palm.  His lips moved to her neck, that spot behind her ear that made her giggle and squeak.  He was ravenous, consuming her flesh with his lips, making his way down to her other breast, sucking her nipple as he ran his tongue around it, willing all sorts of noises to emit from her mouth.  She was straddling him, grinding against him, feeling his wanting against her in just the right spot. She thrust her hands into his boxer briefs, tugging at his hips to bring them even closer.  He responded in kind, slipping his hands into the lace waistband her cotton panties and grabbing that arse he loved so much.  He moved one hand around to her front and started stroking her most sensitive area and slipped a finger inside her.  “Oh, Jamie” she moaned as she began to ease his waistband down.  She allowed herself to let him go for a moment, releasing him to remove his underwear, as she did the same.  As soon as they were fully exposed to one another, she was on top of him again.  She moved herself up and down his length, feeling him rub against her, igniting a euphoric sensation in her core. When neither of them could take it anymore he slipped inside her, and she took him in to the hilt, riding him almost violently.  All the anger and shame she had felt moments ago had transformed into a primal lust unleashed on him. He responded in kind, kissing her vigorously across breasts, neck and shoulders until she shoved him back on the bed to gain a better angle.  Pushing her hand to his chest for leverage, she rode him harder than she’d ever ridden anyone before--not even the vibrator she used to experiment with in college. She could see he was close, his face contorting as he resisted the urge to finish before her.

“Sassenach, you’ll be the death of me” he groaned.

“Just a little more, Jamie” she panted, just before crying out, “Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh”. Seeing her satisfied, he allowed himself to finish as well.  Claire gently detached from him and collapsed beside him, breathless, resting on his chest, hair sprawled across him.

“Oh Sassenach, ye keep that up and I’m liable to pick fights with you more often” he sighed.

“You better watch out before you start something you can’t finish” she quipped in response.  

Jamie simply made a Scottish noise in reply, staring at the ceiling stroking her hair, wondering if he had, in fact, done just that.

End Note:

I try to slip in as many lyrics from each song as possible and make it still "work", occasionally changing tenses or adding/subtracting words to make them work. Claire's orgasm moans are the "oh oh's" in the chorus of YNTCD and I'm simultaneously proud of myself and ashamed.

#lover #outlander fanfic #outlander fic #jamie x claire #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #modern au #inspired by taylor swift #you need to calm down #smut