#I’ll also begin sending away spares as I please instead of just putting them up for dibs

[brigdh]

Okay I'm really curious about "Seme/uke-ifed ship"

The WIP meme!

Thank you!

Ahahaha, okay, I saw a prompt asking writers to deliberately lean into OOC seme/uke stereotypes, complete with giant yaoi hands, regardless of how little they actually fit your ship. This was my silly result. This is another one where I'll just post the whole thing because I never intended to publish it (among other reasons, it involves me being mean about some common tropes).

Also, wow, on rereading I feel like I should note that I wrote this months ago, long before Stede's dream in 2x01.

“I’ve come to rescue you,” Stede said, “from Izzy.” 

Ed’s hand loosened around the hilt of his knife in shocked confusion. He opened his mouth to curse Stede out, but instead what he said was, “Rescue me?”

“Oh, my darling, yes.” Stede kept coming forward, despite Ed’s bewildered backwards steps. Stede looked golden in the late afternoon sunlight that was just beginning to break through the clouds. He’d grown a beard, the short hairs just a bit redder than the waves on his head. Ed was not thinking about what it would feel like against his skin, if it would be scratchy or soft. He was distracted enough that he let Stede back him up against a wall, and then there was nowhere else to retreat to.

Stede’s hand, outstretched all this time, finally made contact with Ed’s cheek. It was big enough to touch from his hairline to his chin. “The crew told me everything,” Stede whispered.

Ed jerked his head away, but Stede just kept going in the same confident tone of voice. “How sad you were. How trapped. How Izzy marooned them.”

“Izzy?” Ed stared at Stede, but his attention was caught by the black smudge on Stede’s fingers, still hovering between them. Ed’s face paint, transferred to Stede. A dark and possessive hunger shot suddenly through him. He’d put that mark on Stede, stained him. “Yeah, that was all Izzy’s idea. Definitely.”

“I know, dear, of course I know.” Stede crowded closer, his broad shoulders cutting off Ed’s view of the rest of the deck. Ed fisted his hands in the front of Stede’s shirt, pulling him even closer. It wasn’t silk or cashmere or any of the fine fabrics he was used to on Stede; it was something stiff and scratchy, but that didn’t matter. It was still Stede. “I know you could never have been responsible for such an action. I knew right away that it must have been that horrible little man. But I’m here now. I’ll keep you safe from him.”

Ed swallowed down a burst of manic laughter, fighting it back by biting his lip and blinking his eyes up at Stede. Stede seemed taller; it must be those new boots. “Really?” Ed whispered, pitching his voice higher and more tremulous than his usual habit. “Do you promise?”

“I promise, my love.” Stede surged closer, his arms tightening around Ed. One broad hand rested at Ed’s waist, nearly big enough to wrap around it. Ed shivered with anticipation, exaggerating the movement so Stede would feel him trembling. “Oh,” Stede cooed right on cue. “Look at you. There’s no need to be afraid. I won’t let Izzy hurt you.” 

Ed tucked his face against Stede’s shoulder, rubbing his cheek to smear more of his kohl onto Stede. “You can’t trust him. Please. He’ll tell you lies about me, it’s what he always does – “

“Don’t worry. I would never believe him over you.”

“You can’t let him go, either. Last time he sold us out to the British. He’ll do it again.” Ed spared a brief moment to send a silent apology to Izzy, who had honestly been quite helpful lately. But he wasn’t going to let Stede back out of this again. He had to make sure this was permanent, no escape possible. Blood on Stede’s hands was the surest way. “Stede, you have to… I think you need to….”

Stede shushed him, one hand cupping the back of Ed’s head and gently combing through his hair. “I will. I’ll take care of it.”

Ed pulled back just enough to meet Stede’s gaze. He lifted a hand to Stede’s jaw, brushed his thumb through the copper-colored beard. “Will you do it yourself? I don’t trust anyone else, Stede.”

Stede went a little pale beneath his new tan. “Well – I –“

“Please?” Ed whispered. “I’ll feel safer if I know you did it.”

Stede swallowed, the bob of his Adam’s apple brushing against Ed’s fingers, then nodded. The set of his shoulders firmed. “If that’s what you need, Ed, of course. I’ll do it. I would do anything for you. I – I love you.”

“No one else has ever told me that,” Ed lied. 

Stede seemed content to stare into Ed’s eyes for a long moment, long enough that Ed decides to move things along. He let his fingers drift down along the neckline of Stede’s shirt, then curled them into the lowest point of the V. “Take me to bed?” Ed asked, glancing back up at Stede through his lashes.

Stede tightened his arm around Ed’s shoulders, then abruptly bent and scooped up Ed’s legs in his other arm. Ed choked, briefly shocked to find himself being carried like a bride. He didn’t think Stede had been this strong before; he must have spent his time away working out. It was a strange sensation, but not entirely unpleasant. Something new, at least. It boded well for Stede’s devotion to Ed.

As Stede whirled them across the deck to the captain’s quarters, Ed briefly met Jim’s eyes. They were standing beside Oluwande, their hand clutching his sleeve. They’d been smiling, but as soon as they saw Ed, their face went blank, expressionless except for a slight narrowing of their eyes. Near them, Frenchie stared as well, moving slightly to be more behind Jim. Ed smiled at them both and tucked his head against Stede’s shoulder. He’d have to figure out what to do about them, but he had time to plan. He had no doubt about his ability to keep Stede distracted for the next few hours. 

#meme #also gaslight gatekeep girlboss forever babygirl. you're insane and I'm so here for it

[chaotic-super]

Equations

“Hey! Don’t stop!”

Kara whines as Lena pulls her hands away from her, having previously been gently running her nails up and down Kara’s back soothingly.

“What am I, you’re personal back scratcher?” Lena laughs at Kara’s indignant stare coming from in her lap, where the blonde is laying, effectively pinning her down.

“That’s what you agreed to when you started dating me.” Kara sticks out her tongue before dropping her head back down and closing her eyes. “I’m not moving so you might as well carry on.”

Lena giggles at her antics, “Oh is that so?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“And that doesn’t sound slightly unreasonable to you?” Lena quirks her eyebrow as she smirks down at the blonde, still closing her eyes to avoid eye contact.

“Not at all.” She states bluntly.

Lena goes back to gently scratching at her back, getting a little bit bored, not having anything to keep her mind occupied. “I’m bored. Can we please do something else?”

Kara let’s out a sigh, sitting up and facing Lena. “Fine. What do you want to do instead?”

“Well, I was thinking that maybe we could use those body paints that you ordered. They arrived last week, and I know you’ve been looking for an excuse to use them. “

Before Kara can even respond, Lena is already up and going to the spare room where all of Kara’s art stuff is kept, making it her own art studio. It’s Kara’s favourite room in the penthouse, Lena having set it up for her as a surprise when they had decided to move in together.

Lena casually strolls back into the living room a minute later, her arms stretched around the box of paints and one of Kara’s protective sheets draped over her arm.

She sets the box down and holds the sheet up to Kara. “So, where do you want to do this?”

“The floor is probably the easiest for access, just put the sheet over the rug so it’s soft beneath us.”

Lena mock salutes and together they lift the coffee table out of the way, pressing it closer to the floor to ceiling windows then she spreads the sheet over the rug, pausing for a second before grabbing a cushion from the L shaped couch and tosses it onto the sheet.

“I didn’t tell you that I ordered body paints, I was going to ask you to be my canvas in a super romantic sexy way.” Kara whines as she begins looking through the cardboard box that the paints were delivered in. “These paints look epic though, look at the quality.” She squirts a little bit of black paint onto her paint palette.

Lena smiles at the new knowledge that Kara was going to use the paints to woo her, she has a way of making her feel loved and wanted that she doesn’t ever want to be void of again.

“Sorry Darling, you know security goes through all of the packages to make sure they are safe, the only difference is that this time the head of security sent me a text asking where we got them from because his wife is an artist and they had wanted to try body paint before but never got around to it. He was a little disappointed that I couldn’t tell him.”

Kara shrugs her shoulders, “That’s life I guess, no harm done. I’ll send him the link to the set later, or better yet, I’ll just gift him one after all he was very discreet that one time I sent you that sexy package with the lingerie before I knew security checked your packages.”

Lena laughs at the memory. “You did traumatize him, he couldn’t look me in the eyes for weeks and he couldn’t look anywhere near you for several months because of the polaroid pictures you added.”

“Good times. Now lie down, I want to do you first.”

Lena takes off her shirt and her bra in preparation. “I still have those pictures by the way, they keep me company on business trips. Also, that’s not something you say very often.”

Kara pinches the back of Lena’s thigh playfully as she takes her place face down on the sheet, resting her head on the cushion.

“That’s not true!”

Lena holds her hand up, bringing her thumb and forefinger together in a pinching motion. “Just a bit true.”

In response Kara takes a bottle of blue paint and dollops a drop in the centre of Lena’s back. Lena jumps at the sudden cold splatter hitting her bare skin. Her shock quickly turns to giggles.

“I thought reporters are supposed to like the truth?”

Kara takes her brush and swipes the paint across her skin. “Do you really want to ruin this romantic bonding activity with teasing?”

Lena chuckles, folding her arms under her head. “I love you.”

Kara mutters under her breath as she continues adding different coloured paints to Lena’s back, mixing in greens and purples. “That’s what I thought.” She pauses for a second. “I love you too, even if you pick on me sometimes.”

Lena hums happily under Kara’s gentle brush strokes. She can feel the bristles dancing across her back, each stroke is so sure in its movement as the picture in Kara’s mind makes its way into reality. “Who would’ve guessed that you can pick on the girl of steel and get away with it?”

“Shh, I’m busy.”

Lena happily closes her eyes, trying to decipher what Kara is painting from the strokes alone, the curved lines and small areas where the brush is switched out for a smaller one as more details are added.

She listens intently to her girlfriend’s steady breaths, feeling the warmth of her legs as they press into hers and the pressure of her as she sits on the back of her thighs, straddling her but she can tell that she isn’t using her full weight, always too afraid that she is hurting her.

When Kara works up to the top of her back, Lena can feel the tips of her hair dangling down, tickling her skin. She worries for a second about her getting paint in her hair but then remembers that it is all quick dry, it only takes a one to two minutes before it is safe to touch.

She may have done a little bit of research on the body paint once she realized that Kara had bought some. She didn’t want to put anything on her skin that would damage it, so sue her, but luckily it all came back safe, and she actually found that Kara must have done her own research since she had specifically chosen some that was better for her skin, even though she must have had to pay extra.

Lena can feel herself drifting off so she tries to think of something else to wake her up, if she goes to sleep now she will ruin her sleep schedule that she has specifically manufactured to maximize her Kara cuddling time. If she doesn’t get at least five extra minutes in the morning after her alarm wakes her up to enjoy her snuggles she gets grouchy.

She thinks of work, Imagining herself working on her new project; there has been new cases of anti-alien groups using technology to block image inducers to out aliens to their peers and she wants to work on something to block their technology without affecting the image inducers’ technology.

She is picturing schematics in her head as Kara keeps working on her painting, slowly moving across Lena’s back as she adds more and more paint until she has finished.

She leans down and places a chaste kiss to the back of her neck.

“OK babe, I’m done.”

Lena hums happily in response, unfolding her arms from under hear head and stretching them out in front of her, shaking away the pins and needles that have formed from her laying on them.

“Will you take a picture? I want to see.” She mumbles, not willing to move until Kara has taken a picture.

Lena feels Kara’s weight shift as she reaches for her phone, then she hears the sound of the picture being taken.

“You can sit up now.” Kara helps her roll over and sit up onto her knees. When she is settled, she finds a phone pressed beneath her nose.

She leans back from the phone that is way too close to her face so she can actually take in what is on the screen.

It’s beautiful.

It’s a mountain range but not any ordinary mountain range. If it were ordinary it would still be incredible, but this really takes her breath away. It’s clearly from another planet, obviously it’s Krypton.

“This is your home?” She whispers to Kara, in complete awe.

“It’s the Jewel Mountains. My father took me there once, we spent a week up there collecting samples of the different rocks and jewels themselves, even. I had the best time. When I first started painting Krypton, I could only picture the destruction but over time I managed to paint some nicer memories, but this is the first time I’ve tried with this memory. I think it’s my favourite.”

“It’s a shame we can’t hang me on a wall, it should be displayed in a fancy gallery somewhere, it’s so amazing.” She can feel the tears welling in her eyes when she hears the background to the amazing piece of artwork on her back. She tries to swallow down her tears but a couple of them escape down her cheeks.

Kara is quick to wipe them away. “No, no, don’t cry.”

“It’s incredible. You’re incredible.”

Lena leans in and kisses her. It’s wet from the tears but neither of them care. Lena grasps either side of Kara’s face as their lips are locked and Kara holds onto Lena’s wrists gently.

“I don’t ever want to wash it off. It seems like such a shame.”

Kara smiles shyly at her. “I don’t think I would have even had the confidence to try to paint the Jewel Mountains if it weren’t for the fact that it can be washed off.”

“Well maybe now you will have a little bit more confidence…maybe even enough to try to paint the mountains on a canvas next time?”

Kara ducks her head as she laughs to herself, her cheeks bright red. “I guess I know what you want for Christmas.”

“I’ve been looking for something to put on the wall opposite our bed since you moved in so long ago.”

“You act like it’s been a lifetime, we’ve only been living together for four months, you weirdo.”

Lena suddenly looks very serious. “Four amazingly long months.” She nods her head along with the words. “And you have to admit that it would be perfect.”

Kara knows she is going to give in and do it, she knew she would from the first look Lena ever gave her that she would do anything for her. “You also said we should have a naked portrait of me opposite our bed last week.”

“That’s a close second and I would have very much enjoyed it if you hadn’t vetoed it.”

Lena folds her arms which draws Kara’s attention down to her very attractive, very naked chest. Kara just stares for a few seconds, speechless by her beauty before Lena clears her throat.

“Are you finished?”

“What? Me? Yeah! Your turn.”

Lena raises her eyebrow at her teasingly. “My turn? To stare at you naked and then blush about it despite the fact we’ve been together over a year?”

“What? No. To paint on my back.” She unbuttons her shirt quickly and unsnaps her bra, looking at Lena expectantly, needing her to move so she can lie down in her place.

“I thought you were going to be the only one to do that. I can’t paint very well.”

Kara pouts. It’s her weapon of mass destruction, and much more deadly and effective than any of her actual powers. Lena often wonders if Kara’s pout would have worked better than her freeze breath or heat vision after watching her fight.

“Please? This is meant to be a bonding experience and I want us both to try it out.”

Lena smirks, her eyes darkening. “You could’ve just said that you wanted me on top of you, you know?”

Kara sticks out her tongue as Lena finally moves out of the way, flourishing her hand toward the recently vacated spot in invitation.

“You’re going to regret letting me draw on you, I don’t even know where to start.”

“Just follow your heart.”

“Sap.”

Kara hums happily in confirmation as she feel Lena get into place behind her, straddling her hips just as she had done earlier.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Lena gets back up quickly and hurries towards the kitchen. Kara leans up to see what she is doing, luckily she can see because the penthouse is open plan.

Lena is reaching up into a cupboard for glasses when she finally let’s Kara into her plan. “Wine makes everything more tolerable.”

“It’s meant to be romantic not tolerable.”

“Same difference, Darling.”

Lena heads back with two very full glasses on wine, placing them on the floor beside them before resettling back into her position above Kara.

She picks her wine back up and takes a big gulp before placing it back down and grabbing a paint brush. She goes straight for the neon colours, finding that they suit her golden retriever of a puppy much better than the duller ones.

She adds green first, going for a more abstract art piece. She is definitely not going for anything even similar to what Kara did, she would just show herself up, even though Kara would never make fun of her or even compare the two, her competitive brain just won’t let her do it.

She starts with a simple oval, adding random lines and circles here and there, changing the colours to make the lines look cool, just for fun. She is really starting to relax into it, when she hears one of her favourite sounds of all time. Kara is snoring.

It’s just a little quiet snore from the back of her throat but no matter how many times Lena tells her that she finds it cute, she always denies doing it altogether, which makes it even cuter.

She finishes her painting much quicker than she thought she would, having not gone into the detail that Kara had before her. She doesn’t want to wake up her girlfriend though, she needs all the sleep she can get since she has had to rush out in the middle of the night three times already this week for her Supergirl duties and other two times because Cat Grant found a new case to work on and needed her star reporter with her for it.

That woman really doesn’t care what you’re doing or what time it is, if she calls you and tells you to get your ass somewhere, you do it.

She tries adding a little more detail but got bored quickly so she instead starts to mentally work on her plans for the device to block the image-inducer blocker device.

She comes up with a basic plan pretty quickly, she is a genius after all, but in order to advance she needs to see it laid out in front of her. She mentally calculates the risk of what she wants to do and decides that the end outcome of decent schematics for a device to protect aliens is much more important than dealing with her girlfriend’s wrath, so she picks up a thin paintbrush and brushes Kara’s hair out of the way to expose the bare top of her back.

Without further ado she begins to do her calculations and equations to figure out what kind of power source she needs to use and what electromagnetic field strength she needs.

She is only aware of how long she has been sat there when the two wine glasses were empty, Lena having taken Kara’s too, and her legs started to cramp from being in the same position for so long.

She is pretty much finished, so she powers through, finishing up to a good point for restarting when she has a chance to get in her lab.

When she sets down her brush, she stands, trying to increase the blood flow back to her poor legs. She massages them with rough hands until she can feel them again.

Lena looks down at Kara, taking a picture of her work and praying that she actually will be able to finish it before Kara murders her.

Her next goal is to wake her girlfriend up, they really need to wash off the paint before bed, it may be safe for skin but that doesn’t mean sleeping with it on isn’t gross.

“Hey, wake up Kara.” She strokes her hair gently. “Come on Darling, let’s get you up now.”

Kara stirs with a happy smile, always glad to see Lena.

“Hey, sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you. The paintbrush gave me great back scratchies and it made me tired.” She sits up, using her powers to float upwards so she doesn’t have to use as much effort.

“That’s ok. I know you’ve had a rough week with everyone needing you. I wanted to let you rest a while, but we should go shower and go to bed.”

Kara shakes her head at her with a big smile. “Not until you show me what you did, I want to see your masterpiece.”

Lena rubs the back of her neck with one hand nervously, an apologetic smile on her face as she slowly opens her photo gallery on her phone. She finds the picture and nervously holds the phone out to Kara for her to take.

“Lena Luthor what have you done? Why do you look guilty?”

She gets her answer when she sees the picture. There is a vague, elephant head shaped outline in the centre of her back made out of random shapes and it is completely bordered by equations. The most impressive part was the fact that Lena had fit the device blueprints inside the elephant head, effectively creating the device in the shape of the elephant head.

“I wish I could say that I’m surprised.” Lena is surprised she isn’t using her grumpy tone. “I’m just happy that there is an actual picture in there…just about.”

She begins to giggle as she looks at the picture more closely. “You’re going to have to pitch this device to the board and when you show them the blueprints you’ll have to explain why it’s in the shape of an elephant!”

Her giggles turn into full belly laughs and every time it dies down she takes another look at the picture and starts up again, making Lena laugh along with her. They can’t image how they must look, both laughing hysterically, faces flushed bright red and completely topless.

When she finally stops she sends herself the picture. “I think you should do a paper copy of the blueprints to put on the wall with the canvas of my picture.”

“I tried my best, I couldn’t help it, it just popped into my head.” Lena whines when Kara starts to tease her.

“I know, it’s why I love you. You have a very fascinating brain and a very hot body.” Kara smacks Lena’s ass gently which Lena promptly returns.

“Right back at you. I love you too.”

#supergirl #supercorp #kara danvers #kara x lena #lena luthor #kara zol el #fanfic #wlw

[biggest-stupidhead]

Levi x Reader where Levi accidentally hurts the reader during a training exercise.

This was so fun to write! Thanks for sending it in, I loved this idea :)

Summary: Levi takes it a bit too far

Word Count: 2.9K

___

It was a sunny afternoon when they arrived. The trio stood up on the small stage elevated above the rest of the regiment. You were transfixed by the way they carried themselves, so unlike the other people that you had met thus far. The youngest one, a boisterous redhead with sparkling green eyes stood proud, chin held high with a dazzling grin. The blonde stood just as tall, his shoulders squared and blue eyes shining with excitement as the squad leader introduced them. However, the third one seemed hardly interested in giving off a warm or inviting greeting. While he stood just as tall, his arms were crossed and his eyes were narrowed as he surveyed the crowd.

"Introduce yourselves." The man said, stepping aside to give them a chance to speak.

"The name's Isabel Magnolia!" The redhead exclaimed as she gave a sloppy salute. You felt the corner of your mouth tug upwards in amusement.

"Farlan Church." The blonde said simply, his hand fell to the right side of his chest and you heard a few soldiers murmur at his small mistake.

"Levi." The other man said, not even bothering to give the salute.

"Dismissed, carry on with your daily training." The squad leader dismissed the soldiers and you found yourself glancing over your shoulder to watch the trio begin their tour of the grounds.

"Say, that dark haired man was rather mysterious." Hange leaned down to comment as she fell into step beside you.

"I'll say, didn't even give his last name!" You agreed as the two of you set off towards the sparring grounds.

"They sure are an interesting bunch." Hange rubbed her hands together and a blush began to blossom on her cheeks. You swatted her bicep and shot her a sharp glare.

"Don't go getting weird ideas now." You scolded and she whimpered dejectedly.

"No need to worry." She patted you square on the back and you jutted your bottom lip out in a pout.

"That's impossible when it comes to you." You scoffed as the two of you rounded the corner and came into the dusty field the scouts used to spar in.

"You're just being dramatic, now let's get started. I sure hope that you've improved since the last time!" With that, the two of you found an empty space and began to spar. You had been partners since your training corps days, seeing that Hange was so much better at it than you, she had offered to give you some pointers.

Towards the end of the afternoon, a few hours before dinner. The trio arrived at the sparring grounds, standing off to the side taking in the sparring soldiers. The redhead rushed fearlessly up to a group of younger girls who were on a short break. She fell seamlessly in with them and even began to spar with them a bit. Farlan gave Levi a clap on the back before jogging over to a group of men and also slipping easily into a conversation.

"Looks like grumpy needs a hand." Hange nudged you and you shook your head.

"Are you insane?! There's no way-"

"Oi! Levi! Over here." Hange yelled over you and waved excitedly at the man who's brows furrowed at the stranger calling out to him like an old friend. When he made no move to join you, a sense of relief filled you, maybe there was hope that you wouldn't have to speak to the grouchy stranger.

That was until Hange snagged your arm and hauled you in his direction. You stumbled after her, a furious blush filling your cheeks and neck as some soldiers looked up at the commotion. She came to a stop a few feet away from him, holding her hand out to him with a bright smile.

"I'm Hange Zoe! And this here is (Y/n), want to spar with us?" Hange introduced the two of you and Levi kicked the toe of his boot into the dust, causing a small cloud to fill the space between you.

"I'd rather not." He said bluntly and you tugged on Hange's jacket.

"See, I told you to leave him be." You hissed and Hange shrugged you off.

"I'm eager to see what you're capable of, and (Y/n) here needs a fresh sparring partner! I'm afraid she's gotten much better than me and you look like the perfect partner!" Hange shoved you closer and you swallowed thickly as his eyes raked up and down your form.

"Not interested." He stayed firm in his previous standing, however Hange was persistent.

"One match, that's all I ask." She held up a finger, glasses glinting in the light.

"If I do this, will you leave me alone?" He growled and you tried to take another step back, not eager to spar with the stranger.

"Of course." Your eyes fell on Hange's back, where her fingers were crossed at the small of her back out of his view. You let out a pathetic whimper at this.

"Fine." He raised his hands up, fists curled tightly as he widened his stance.

"Go get 'em champ." Hange clapped you on the back and you inhaled sharply, mirroring his stance. You weren't one to back down from a challenge, even if you knew you were about to get your ass handed to you.

"Last chance to back out." He warned, and you shook your head, he nodded in response. In the blink of an eye, he rushed you. Despite his short stature, he was rather fast, closing the distance between you in shocking speed. You narrowly dodged his experimental first blow aimed at your face.

You sidestepped him and swung at his exposed stomach, he blocked you effortlessly with his forearm and swiped at your own open abdomen. You weren't nearly fast enough to dodge this one, taking the blow, you used the force of the hit to take a healthy step back. He was relentless, pursuing you and taking another swing at you. This time you were ready, catching his wrist and steering him away from you. Now that you were back in his space, you tugged him closer, bringing your knee up and landing a solid hit to his lower stomach. You felt the rush of air tickle your face as you knocked some wind from his chest.

He grunted and swung again, this time landing a punch right on your chin, you felt the skin split as your ears rang from the impact. Your head fell to the side and you stumbled back, embarrassment flooding through you as the blood ran down your chin.

"Cheap shot." You growled as he stood back, allowing a moment to see if you fell to the ground, thus rendering him the winner.

"No such thing." He countered before stalking towards you. Your vision was still swimming as he began to rapidly attempt to punch you once more. You narrowly dodged them before spotting an opening in his own stance. You didn't even think before putting all your strength into an uppercut, you felt his sternum through his thin shirt and a small surge of pride filled you when he let out a pained grunt.

It was his turn to take a step back, but you remembered the ruthless way he had come at you moments before and you returned the favor, landing two more hits to his stomach before retreating. On your way to a hasty exit, he snagged your bicep in a vice grip, pulling you against him and turning you around, twisting your arm behind your back painfully.

You felt the joints crack as you were forced into the position. His leg swiped your own feet out from underneath you and you tumbled to the ground with him resting the majority of his weight on you. Your mouth was filled with the taste of iron as the gravel bit into the side of your face.

Even though it was clear that he had won, he remained on top of you, twisting your arm further and further. You finally let out an agonized yelp when you felt your arm slip out of its socket. He grunted, seemingly pleased with his work before standing up once more. A crowd had gathered around to look on in horror as he stood over your pitiful form.

"Anyone else?" He growled, chest rising and falling from the exertion of the fight. When nobody said anything, he turned on his heel and stalked back the way that the trio had come from.

"Didn't think so." He mumbled as he pushed past the few soldiers that had crowded around the two of you.

"Levi! Wait up!" Isabel called after him, the pair followed their friend, shooting an almost apologetic glance back at you as you propped yourself up on your good arm. Once they were gone, Hange rushed to your side, pulling you to your feet with concerned eyes. You hissed and pulled free from her grasp and she winced as you cradled your injured arm.

"I told you I didn't want to fight him." You snarled before storming off of the grounds, blood dripping down your face and arm aching. Now you wouldn't be able to participate in the upcoming mission all because some calloused man had taken a fight too far to boost his ego. Not to mention, the only reason you had been put in that position was because your friend had set you up, knowing full well how prideful you were.

--

You skipped dinner, too ashamed to show your face in front of the others. Instead you camped out in the infirmary, arm tied into a sling and chin covered in a massive bandaid. Not to mention the scratches on the right side of your face from being pressed into the coarse dirt.

As you had presumed, the injury that Levi had given you would take more than three weeks to fully heal, meaning you would be exempt from the upcoming expedition in less than two weeks. You were beyond pissed, you had worked so hard, finally improving in your ODM skills. It felt as if all of your hard work had been lost, and now you would have to work even harder to regain that skill after being prescribed rest with little to no training.

Two weeks later you watched the scouts pack up and head out for the expedition, you stood by the stables, glaring holes into the back of Levi's head as he guided his horse from the stall. He didn't even spare you a glance as he mounted the black mare and spurred her to fall into step with the other soldiers who were filing out of the castle gates.

If he lived, you vowed to approach him and give him a stern talking to. Hange snuck up on you, gripping the reins to her horse in one hand and using the other to ruffle your hair.

"See you soon." She promised and you nodded as she walked the mare out of the stables and mounted it, glancing over her shoulder to give you one last small wave. You nodded and cradled your arm in the sling as you watched your squad leave the grounds, the last group to depart.

The grounds felt empty and you felt even emptier as you wondered the halls of the castle on your own. You kept yourself busy with some chores that the doctor had given you the okay of completing. About halfway through the day, rain clouds moved in and began to weep over the dry earth. You stood near the window and gnawed on your cuticles, thinking of all the issues the storm brought that could interfere with the expedition. You could only hope that the rain had missed them and they were making good time.

--

Of course, luck had not been on the scouts side that day. Not that it wasn't surprising. They crawled back to the castle with their tails between their legs, bloodied and mangled. Only the lucky ones made it back alive, others meeting a much worse fate on the other side of the wall. You stood by the door holding it open for the medics as they hauled in the injured. Hange was helping a young woman in, offering you a pained grin as she passed. Your mouth couldn't even begin to return the smile, instead you nodded and closed the door behind her.

Erwin came in last, Levi following him like a shadow, wet hair covering his eyes as he followed the commander obediently. Your eyes narrowed in confusion, last you had checked, Levi had barely been able to look at Erwin without showing a hint of malice.

"Get some rest." Erwin dismissed him and you watched him split off, marching back towards the dining hall. You debated following Erwin and asking how the mission had gone, but the way his blue eyes avoided yours told you that would be a conversation for another time.

So instead you retreated back to your room, going to dinner would be too depressing. Seeing all of the empty seats always broke your heart.

--

It was months later that you found yourself alone with Levi for the first time. It had been an accident of course, you had crept down to the kitchen in search of a glass of water. The raven haired man was seated at one of the long tables, a cup of steaming tea in front of him. You silently closed the door behind yourself and rushed into the kitchen, hoping to quickly get what you came for and retreat.

However as you stood chugging the water, you couldn't help but feel bad for the man. Of course you had heard of the brutal ends his friends had met, and the harsh words that Erwin had given to him afterwards. You felt bad for him, nobody wanted to befriend him except for Hange, especially after what he had done to you and what he had planned to do to your commander.

So carefully, you set the glass in the sink and rounded the counter that separated the kitchen from the dining hall. You felt like you were walking on eggshells as you crossed the room to stand across the table from him.

"I-I should've said this earlier...but I'm sorry about your friends." You stumbled awkwardly over your condolence and Levi glanced up at you. Smokey grey eyes apathetic as always as he met your eyes.

"Wasn't your fault." He responded as he lifted his cup by the rim to his lips.

"No...but I'm sure you miss them. May I?" You asked, gesturing towards the open seat across from him.

"Knock yourself out." He shrugged and you sank into the seat. The two of you sat in silence for a few moments as you grappled for something to talk about, something to lighten the mood.

"Your arm is healed." He commented, nodding towards the arm he had yanked from your socket. You scoffed and rolled your shoulder, still feeling a small pang of soreness in the motion. The doctor had told you that it was unlikely that you would regain full motion anytime soon.

"Somewhat, no thanks to you." You meant it both teasingly and seriously, just because his friends had died didn't mean that he had your full forgiveness yet. You had lost people too after all.

"What was I supposed to do? Kiss it better?" He asked gruffly, lifting his cup for another drink. You let out a bark of laughter, head falling back as you laughed at his crass words.

"Maybe next time." You chuckled and Levi clicked his tongue in response.

"Surprised you think there will be a next time." Levi's brow was raised in slight amusement as you leaned forward on the table and grinned brightly at him.

"I'd like to get a few pointers." You shrugged and he rolled his eyes.

"Based on our last bought, I doubt you can be taught." He grunted and you gasped in offense.

"Oh come on, I did hit you a few times." You giggled and Levi glared at you sharply.

"Who's to say that I didn't let you have those hits?" He set his cup down and you scoffed.

"As if." You rolled your eyes and shot him a playful grin, he shook his head and slowly stood from his seat, moving towards the kitchen.

"Don't get cocky chicken wing." He called over his shoulder and you felt the blood rush to your face and the backs of your ears.

"Chicken wing!?" You stood and chased after him into the kitchen.

"Who came up with that, tell me or so help me-"

"I did." He shrugged as he began rinsing out his cup.

"Oh so you break my arm and then you call me mean names? What an asshole." You leaned against the counter as you watched him wash the tea leaves out of his cup.

"I didn't break your arm." He clarified and you seethed.

"Not the point."

"Do you want my help or not?" He asked, turning to face you, his expression neutral and a tad annoyed.

"Yes....but don't call me that again." You scolded, jabbing a finger in his direction accusingly, he only shrugged and watched you stomp out of the kitchen.

He couldn't help but feel the small tug of affection that filled his chest, after speaking to you he realized just how alike you and Isabel were. This only made things harder for him of course, after losing those two he became determined to remain detached. But now you and Hange were making that hard for him. And if he was honest, he couldn't say he was all that mad about it.

#levi snk #levi aot #levi x reader #levi attack on titan #levi one shot #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi fanfiction #levi x you #levi x fem!reader #levi x reader insert #levi x y/n #levi ackerman #levi ackerman fanfiction #aot fanfiction #aot fandom #erwin smith #hange zoe #farlan church #isabel magnolia #reader instert #snk fanfiction

[sundaysundaes]

Drunk Antics

Mark Lee X Reader, ft. Johnny | Smut, Fluff | 5.8k | College AU

Summary: After being caught having sex with your previously virgin boyfriend, you thought Mark and your brother Johnny would never get along. That is until your boy comes back to your room in the drunkest state he’s ever been after a short trip to the bar with his Johnny-hyung, asking you to try new tricks he’s learned from the Master of Sex.

Sort of a continuation from Our First Time but can be read separately.

Warnings: Smut, oral sex, drunk unprotected sex. For the sake of the very little plot there is, Mark is intoxicated in this fic so his consent may be unclear. Please don’t read this fic if this makes you feel uncomfortable. I also don’t approve nor allow taking advantage of your romantic partner while they are under the influence of alcohol.

“You forgot that you borrowed his AirPods?!” Your boyfriend is shrieking in whispers, doe eyes shaking in fear and horror as he kneels on your bed, trying to shamelessly hog every inch of your blanket to cover his body.

Mark is so drowning in panic that he doesn’t even notice that you, in fact, are still naked. “I was going to use them before to work on my assignment,” you try to reason, “but then you came so I kind of forgot about them.”

“Kind of?!” He screeches. “I agreed to have sex with you because I thought you were sure that he had his AirPods on!”

You stare at him flatly. “You’re making me feel like I just took advantage of you.”

“I am feeling like you just took advantage of me!”

“You just lost your virginity, I think you have to thank me instead.”

“Babe,” Mark grabs both of your shoulders, staring with wide eyes as if there’s a ghost lurking behind your back but he’s trying his best to calm you down (though he’s pretty much shitting his own pants). “You should’ve remembered that you took his AirPods. He heard us.”

“Mark,” you imitate his tone mockingly, taking a hold of his shoulders in the same manner. “It would’ve been super weird if I thought about my brother when I have my hot boyfriend rubbing his dick against my ass.”

Distracted, a sheepish smile forms on his face. “You think I’m hot?” But he shakes himself awake on the next second, going back to yanking out his hair with both hands. “No, wait—what am I going to do—your brother heard us having sex—I can’t—”

“I heard my brother having sex all the time.” You shrug nonchalantly. “Sometimes even when he’s alone in his room, which is gross.”

“THAT’S NOT THE POINT—”

“Guys?” Johnny’s knocks on the door are becoming more impatient. “I swear to God, if you two go back to sucking each other off, I’m going to throw Mark under the bus and run him over myself.“

Mark’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “Did you hear that?!”

You roll your eyes in response, reaching out to the table beside your bed and snatch Johnny’s AirPods from inside the drawer. “Here,” you hand it over to Mark.

Your boyfriend reacts as if you just handed him a bowl of hot lava and he fumbles with his hands, shoving the AirPods back to you with so much horror in his eyes. “Why are you giving me this—no—no—”

“Mark, honey.” You gently smile, pushing the thing back in the most motherly way you can manage. “I’m covered in cum—your cum, in case you forgot—and you’re hogging all the blanket—“

“No—”

“Also, I’m sweaty and gross. Can you please be a man for once and let me take my shower? You can still join me afterward.”

“Babe!” You can tell he’s about to throw up out of fear but he’s just so cute, you can’t help but keep teasing him about it. “This is not fair—he’s going to kill me! And what do you mean ‘for once’, am I—“

“Okay, guys, any day now.” Your brother, Johnny, calls again from the other side of the door. “If one of you don’t come out and hand me back my AirPods in the next ten seconds, I am literally going to call the police.”

Mark nearly jumps out of his own skin. “What?!”

“Oh, shut up, Johnny,” you shout back, mouthing calming words to your boyfriend who looks like he’s seconds away from fainting. “You’re not going to do that and we both know it!”

“But I am going to call our Mom.”

“That he might do,” you say, wincing a little at Mark. “Okay, I’m going to take a shower.” You lean forward to give him a peck on his cheek. “Good luck, babe.” And you sprint off to the bathroom inside your room, all while holding out your best not to cackle loudly.

“Where are you going—Baby, get back here!” You can hear Mark protesting in whispers, but you just send him flying kisses and a wink, and shut the bathroom door behind you.

Mark’s soul is leaving his body, he can feel it. And that’s okay, because Johnny is going to kill him anyway. But when the older man really starts to count to ten, Mark jumps out of the bed, tripping approximately three times as he tries his best to dress himself back in his own clothes while muttering the words “shit” and “fuck” repetitively under his breath.

When he’s sure he looks less fucked than before, Mark opens the door, breathing hard as if he just did the worst workout in his life.

“H-hey,” Mark starts, attempting to throw his best look-at-me-I’m-a-good-boy-who-did-not-just-fuck-your-sister-when-you-were-around smile at the other man. “How’s it going, man?” His voice breaks in the middle of his line and he winces as he tries to calculate the least painful death options he can commit.

Johnny unenthusiastically gazes back at him. “What are you doing?”

“I’m… smiling at you?”

“Don’t. You look like a serial killer.”

“S-sorry, I’m—“ Mark’s eyes start searching everywhere but Johnny’s eyes as he feels his own feet turning into jelly. “I guess I’m nervous.”

“Nervous? Why?” Johnny places his hands inside the pocket of his jeans, looking way too intimidating for your boyfriend to handle. “Because you just had sex with my sister while I’m in the house?”

Mark’s jaw is almost dislocating from his face from how wide he opens his mouth. “I—I, umm—“ He clears his throat, wiping a bead of sweat off his forehead. “S-so, you really heard us, huh?” He tries to laugh it off, which he soon regrets from the way Johnny’s eyes are throwing daggers at him.

“Yeah, well,” Johnny shrugs, “My ears don’t have on-and-off buttons that I can switch whenever I want. I used to have my AirPods to do that job, but she borrowed them to help her concentrate while doing her assignment.” He gives out a sly grin, almost mockingly. “Little did I know that her assignment was you.”

If he didn’t feel like dying before, Mark is sure as hell feeling it now. “I’m so sorry—I swear, she told me you had them—I also thought you were downstairs—“

“Yeah, I do go upstairs from time to time, you know, ‘cause my room is over there,” he dully replies, nudging his head to the end of the corridor, where his room is located next to yours.

Mark’s entire body shudders in horror. “Dude, I didn’t know—I thought that was a storage room—oh God—”

“Don’t call me dude. I’m not your dude.”

“Fuck—sorry, you’re right—I’m—“ He’s hyperventilating by this point. “Is there any place in this house where I can kill myself?”

“You can try jumping off my balcony,” Johnny answers in the most casual way that Mark begins to question whether he’s really being serious about it.

“G-great, I’ll put that in my options,” is all Mark has to say. “Thanks.”

“Sure thing, bud.” Johnny yawns, offering one hand to the other man which Mark stupidly enough stares in confusion before he takes a hold of it and gives it a sweaty handshake. Johnny switches his gaze from Mark’s face to their hands before he brings back to stare at him straight in the eyes and says, “My AirPods, you idiot.”

“FUCK—“ Mark is so embarrassed that he stumbles on his feet, knocks the side of his head against the door frame, and does a silent scream when the pain jolts to his entire body.

“Man, I wish I had my phone ready to record all of that,” Johnny comments.

Mark is too much in pain to recognize his mumbling. He fumbles with the AirPods in his hand, shoving them to Johnny’s chest. “Shit, I don’t know why I thought you wanted a handshake—here—oh my God—I’m so sorry—“

Even Johnny seems a little bit amused at his antics by this point. “Thanks,” he says, tucking the AirPods inside the pocket of his jeans. “You have some time to spare?”

Mark gulps. “Are you going to kill me?”

“Not until the end of the day.” Johnny says, and Mark laughs a little bit too loud and a little bit too hard and by the way Johnny smiles, he still can’t tell whether he’s joking or not. “Come on, let’s go have a drink.”

“Umm I-I don’t think I should—“

“Not a request, Mark.”

“Yes sir, on my way!” And he knocks himself once again against the door frame as he rushes forward to follow his steps.

“Also, Mark?”

“Yes?”

“Your shirt’s inside out.”

***

“Mark?” Your voice is answered by the silence of your room. You’re feeling a little bit dizzy from the hot shower you just took. You took a bit long in the bathroom, waiting for Mark to come and join you with a cute pout on his lips and tears in his eyes (that’s how you imagined him to be anyway) but your boyfriend, it turns out, was not even in your room. You put on your clothes—a knitted navy blue sweater with sleeves a little bit too long for your arms and a simple pair of jeans—and head downstairs, searching your house but nobody comes to answer. Sighing, you go back to your room and try to call his cellphone but immediately feel disappointed when his ringtone comes from under the bed.

“Great, he forgot his cellphone,” you mutter to yourself, picking his phone up and throws it on the bed. “Did he really run home without telling me?” The image of Mark panicking and running away from your house like his life depends on it sure does look like it’s something he does out of shame. But judging by how great your previous sex activity was, you figure that he’s probably going to go back to you sooner or later. He also has his phone to retrieve anyway.

So it’s time for you to actually get some work done. There’s no other reason for you to run away from your goddamn thesis and the day is getting late. After having some ramyun for dinner, you finally begin working on your assignment.

It’s hard to start, but a few minutes after you get your head to it, you start losing track of time. You’re finally done with your work (most of it anyway), already closing your laptop and place it back on your backpack, when your door abruptly swings open, showing your boyfriend’s face with the biggest grin on his face.

“Baby, I’m home,” he says in a sing-song voice, a bit slurry and a little high pitched. Before you can say anything—too busy trying to figure out how high he is judging from the dopey look on his face—Mark is giggling and walks closer to you. “You know,” he says, placing a hand on your desk and leaning close enough for you to know that he reeks of alcohol. “I just had the greatest day of my life today. And it’s all because. of. you.” He pokes your nose repetitively between every word.

“Mark—“

“Are you hungry? I’m hungry. Do you want some pancakes, because man, I’d love some pancakes—“

“What, are you drunk?” The answer is obvious but you ask anyway.

“No, I’m Mark.” He grins, chuckling at his lousy joke.

“You are so drunk.”

“And you,” he snickers, pinching one of your cheeks, “are so cute~”

You swat his hand away. “Where have you been?”

“I went to a bar with your brother,” he giggles again, playfully massaging your shoulders. “He’s so coooool~”

“What?!”

“Yeah, he’s, like, so tall and, like, so fit.” You can’t believe you’re hearing your boyfriend fangirling over your brother. “And he knows a lot of stuff—like, a lot a lot.”

You certainly have to kick Johnny in the shins after this. “How—why—I thought you were—“

“Babe, you’re rambling.”

You can’t believe you’re turning into him, so you clear your throat and try again. “How drunk are you exactly?”

“Drunk enough to know that this,” he stops to pick up the fishbowl you placed on the bedside table—where Marky the Goldfish is sleeping with its eyes open—and lifts it up to his face, “water cannot be drunk but drunk enough to contemplate about doing it.”

You make a face. “Leave Marky alone.”

“Why did you name it after me?”

“Because it’s dumb. Like you.”

“Huh, can’t really argue with that.” He snorts, placing the fishbowl back to the table and tripping on his feet as he does so—spilling some water from the side but thank God, your fish is safe and alive, though probably also a little bit drunk because of that sudden… turbulence.

“Oops,” he giggles, “Sorry, Marky.” He doesn’t look regretful in the slightest. You stare at him in silence, unconsciously judging him with all you have and usually, he would start becoming nervous and fumbling with his words but now, he just looks at you like you’re the best thing that ever happened to him and rushes forward.

“Man, I love you.” He tackles you into a hug, almost sending you toppling down your chair, “I love you so much. Have I said that today?”

This is certainly not the way you imagined your first confession to be like, especially coming from Mark who’s usually shy and too childish to admit his feelings. “No, you haven’t,” you retort. “Ever.”

“What, really?” His eyes are perfectly round and wide, actually surprised about it. “Shit, I’m sorry. Come here.” He pulls you up to your feet, cradling you into his arms, hands flailing all over your body before they finally rest on your waist. “I can’t believe we had sex and I didn’t even tell you that. I’m so sorry.” He leans back, putting some space between you so he can stare directly into your eyes. “I love you. I’ve always been for a while. I’m so in love with you that I can barely concentrate whenever you’re around.”

You wish he wasn’t drunk out of his mind because those words, those lines, could have been so romantic but even though he looks romantic, you’re not sure whether he’s being one hundred percent conscious about it.

“Okay, let’s talk about this again when you’re sober.” You tap his cheek with one hand and pinch it when he whines. “Have you even taken a shower yet?”

“Yeah, this morning.” He smiles dreamily at you, kissing the inside of your palm. You can’t believe how bold and greasy he becomes when he’s drunk. “And yesterday. And the day before that. And—”

“Okaaaay.” You shut him up by placing your hand above his mouth, which he licks like a little puppy, earning a surprised yelp from you. “Mark!”

“Babe!” He imitates before throwing himself to the bed, laughing at your face. “Come here, join me in my bed.”

“That’s my bed.”

“Isn’t that what I said?”

You exhale loudly, rolling your eyes. “I don’t think you can go home at this state. Your mom would kill me.”

“But I’m already home,” he says, crawling toward you until he kneels at the edge of the bed, face to face with you. “Home is wherever the heart is, right? And my heart is with you.”

You curse yourself inwardly for having your heart flutter at his embarrassing line and you hate yourself even more when he notices you’re blushing.

“Whatever. Just take a shower and get some sleep.” You walk back to your desk, flipping around the pages of your textbook. “I still have two chapters to read.”

You can hear your boyfriend huffing behind you, but try your best to ignore him. It’s an impossible feat, it turns out, when Mark sneaks up behind you, circling his arms around your shoulders and peppers few kisses down the side of your neck.

“Mark—“

“You smell so good.” He inhales deeply, burying his nose in the strands of your hair. Standing up, you turn around to face him so you can protest and push him away but the look on his face makes you freeze.

“You’re so cute,” he says, running his hand up from the curve of your neck to cup your cheek. “And You’re so pretty. And hot. You’re so…” He begins staring at your lips, eyes unfocused. “Hot.”

You can tell it’s coming but when he kisses you, almost hungrily, it feels like he’s snatching your breath away. “Mark, wait—”

“Not waiting,” he murmurs against your lips, pulling your hand over his shoulder so you’re forced to lean your entire weight against his chest. Mark’s calloused hands travel down your body, wrapping both against the back of your thighs and lifts them up so you can wrap your legs around his waist. You follow his lead though still not entirely convinced that you should continue this.

Mark kicks your sliding chair away with one leg and places you down on your desk. He roughly pushes all your papers and textbooks to the end of the table, making enough space where you can sit facing him, with your legs tangling around his waist.

You have spent a decent amount of time kissing Mark over the months you’ve been dating, but only now that you have the chance to kiss him when he’s drunk and you’re aware just how much you’ve been missing.

The drunk version of Mark Lee unexpectedly kisses much more slowly compared to the sober version of Mark Lee, and if you thought fast, passionate kisses were hot, then these slow, deep kisses are sending actual shivers down your spine.

Mark has his right hand cupping your cheek, rubbing comforting circles on your skin with his thumb, while his other one is around your waist, slipping his fingers underneath the hem of your sweater. He angles your head to the side, and his parting lips fit like a perfect puzzle piece with yours. There’s a shy trace of his tongue along your bottom lip, as he nibbles at it slowly and he lets out this small moan as he does it as if it’s something he’s been wanting to do for years and just finally able to do it now.

He tastes like alcohol and you’re not particularly fond of it but the more he kisses you, the more you think it doesn’t matter because he still somewhat tastes like how Mark usually does and you always love the way he tastes on your tongue.

He drags your chin down with his thumb, tasting you a little bit deeper and as he presses his hips against yours, his breathing becomes ragged and you just realize that you probably have a kink for all of this stuff because holy mother of God, this is just so hot.

“Mark,” you sigh as he moves away to kiss your ear, warm lips pressing against your earlobe. He hums in a low, breathy voice that you’ve never heard him do and it makes your stomach flip. “Mark, you’re drunk.” It’s more like a reminder to yourself because you know that as the sober one, you have to put a stop to this but what can you do when he has his tongue tracing against your skin and his soft moans vibrating through your ears?

“Baby,” he whispers, pulling away a little so you can see his eyes and fuck, it’s the biggest mistake you’ve made today—bigger than forgetting that you borrowed Johnny’s AirPods. His eyes are half-lidded, utterly filled with lust and the way he licks his bottom lip as he stares at you has you breathless. He leans closer, as if he’s about to kiss you again, and whispers, “Don’t you want me?”

You remember that you said the same thing earlier to him that day and it makes you think how karma is a fucking bitch. You secretly wonder whether you have the same effect on him because Mark is being so irresistible right now and he successfully makes you throw all of your reasoning to the back of your head.

“Fuck this,” you claim under your breath, pulling him down to you by the neck and crush your mouth together. You can feel your boyfriend smiling into the kiss, and the sounds of your wet kisses make your heartbeat go crazy.

“Take off your shirt,” you command, already grabbing the end of his shirt and struggling as you try to pull it over his head. Mark helps, chuckling a little bit and when it’s off, he has his lips against your neck again. His teeth are prickling against your skin, sucking it until it’s bruised and you have to remind yourself to be angry about it later—because you have classes tomorrow and what if anyone sees that nasty hickey on your neck?—but right now, you just want him to mark you over and over again.

Mark starts to unbutton your jeans, pulling the zipper down and you use your free hand and legs to shake your pants off. It’s not easy, and you almost kick your boyfriend in the face while doing so, but he laughs it off and kisses you again. You can tell how hard he is when he presses himself against you, and you’re eager to put him out of his misery but he suddenly pulls away, saying, “Wait, let me do this first,” and he kneels on the floor, his face right between your legs.

You can feel your breath hitched when he runs his fingers on the inside part of your thighs, his lips follow soon after. He slips his fingers around the edge of your panties and pulls them down. You suddenly feel so exposed to the way he’s looking at you so you pull the end of your sweater down, trying to cover your thighs as much as you can.

“Why are you so shy?” Mark says, taking your hand away and pressing his lips against your palm. His eyes never leave yours and they twinkle in the most teasing way. “You weren’t shy about this before.”

“Stop looking at it too much,” you reply nervously, can’t help but to blush about it. “I feel weird.”

Mark chuckles, airily and soft. “Sorry, I just didn’t have the chance to really see you before,” he explains, one hand unconsciously rubbing your thigh, trying to calm you down. “Can I eat you out?”

Sober Mark will definitely not say anything like this—hell, sober Mark will probably faint just thinking about saying stuff like this—which is why you’re becoming even more nervous and excited at the same time.

“Baby?” Mark calls, smiling softly. “I kind of asked you a question.”

Fuck me. “Yes,” you breathe out, and you realize he was just messing with you before but who the fuck cares right now.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Mark, please.” You can hear yourself whining and you hate yourself for it, but desperate times call for desperate measures. “Please eat me out, Mark.”

He smiles in the sexiest way that you don’t think it’s possible—like seriously, who is this guy?—biting his lower lip as he does so and if he keeps doing that, you figure he doesn’t even have to eat you out to make you come undone.

He presses his lips near your heat, whispering, “Good girl,” before he places his mouth on the exact spot you want him to be.

“Fuck,” you hiss, biting your own lip as you see his head move between your legs. Mark has his eyes closed, repeating what he has learned earlier that day and does the thing you like the most. When he locks his eyes with yours, you almost choke out a sob.

“Mark,” you try to keep your voice down in whispers but Mark is so good that it feels much easier to work on your goddamn stupid thesis rather than holding back your moan.

“Mmm.” The way he moans at the back of his throat as if he’s having the best time of his life makes you weak and you press your thighs together without knowing. Mark places his hands on each side of your thighs and spreads your legs wide apart, allowing himself to be even closer and making you feel way more exposed. You have to grip your desk with both hands to keep yourself from falling.

“Okay, no, stop—“ You find yourself breathing hard, pushing him back by the shoulder and he raises a questioning eyebrow.

“Was it not good?” He asks and you curse inwardly.

“Mark,” You grab him by the silver necklace he has around his neck, pulling him up so you’re face-to-face. “I’m about to come, what do you think?”

“Really?” He looks impressed with himself. “Then, why did you stop me?”

You tangle your legs around his waist, bringing him close and grind your hips against his. “You know why.”

Mark’s thin lips part in a silent moan, whispering, “Fuck,” under his breath but he tries to keep his composure. “No, I don’t,” he says, teasing you though he doesn’t look like he’s able to hold himself back long. “Babe, I literally just lost my virginity a few hours ago. You have to tell me what you want.”

“Mark.”

“Babe.”

You scowl at him and scowl harder when he has this shit-eating grin on his face, and if your eyes could throw daggers, he’d be in so much pain right now. But Mark is making a sound between a giggle and a snort, which is rather cute but you still kick him in the stomach for playing with you at a time like this. “Mark, come on! I want you to fuck me!”

He takes a hold of your thigh, leaning down to place kisses under your ear. “And where do you want me to fuck you, exactly?” He whispers, purposely making an mmm sound as he sucks on your earlobe. “Should we move to the bed?”

“No, fuck, just do it here.” You unbuckle his belt, pushing his jeans and boxer down to around his thighs, low enough for you to stroke his member and position it toward your entrance. “Mark, just put your cock inside me.”

It seems like he’s beginning to lose his mind over how desperate you are actually begging him. You guide him toward you, making sure he’s not doing anything wrong and when he pushes inside, you just have to bite on his shoulder to muffle your moan.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans, eyes closing shut as he grips on your thighs, nails sinking into the skin almost painfully. “I couldn’t remember whether you were you this tight before but—oh God—”

His movements are still a bit sloppy, but soon he finds the pace you both like and maintains it. When he sees you throwing your head back in pleasure, he grins to himself and lifts your sweater up to your chest. You help him take it off, unclasping your bra with so much effort as he continues pounding into you.

He’s so consumed by the sight of your breasts bouncing up and down matching his thrusts until he can’t take it anymore. “Babe, can I go a little bit rough?”

“Wha—fuck!” It’s your luck that you don’t slam your head against the wall from the sudden force Mark is thrusting into you. He has his mouth on your breast, moving his hips much quicker than before,  and moaning your name several times under his breath. The desk is clearly making a sound as it bumps against the wall but you don’t care—your parents are out of town and Johnny already heard you two before anyway. You can just apologize to him tomorrow.

Mark suddenly changes position, lifting one of your legs up in the air while keeping the other down so he can slide in deeper. “Johnny-hyung told me to try this,” he says with a smirk on his face. He’s breathing quite hard, just like you. He kisses the side of your ankle once before he lays your leg on his shoulder. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

When he moves his hips again, with so much force that you have to hold on to the table, you’re pretty much just screaming his name. Mark’s bangs are sticking to his skin as beads of sweat start to form on his temple, and he pushes his hair back with one hand, chanting your name like a prayer and recording every expression you make in his mind.

You can handle his movements but you’re sure the skin around your waist is going to bruise tomorrow from how hard he’s holding you. You’re getting distracted by the way the muscles on his abs flex with every movement that it catches you off guard when he suddenly says, “I love you,” between his soft moans. You shudder at his words, leaning forward to wrap your fingers around his arm, begging for support. “Mark, you’re not fair—“ The rest of your sentence dies when he hits the spot that makes you see stars.

It’s a little bit embarrassing for you, the much more experienced one, to come undone before he does but Mark doesn’t stop, even if you beg him to. “Hold on to me,” he says, smashing his lips against yours and adding, “Just a little bit more, baby,” between kisses.

When he’s finished, your back and legs are aching so much that he has to carry you onto the bed. Mark shakes his pants off before he slides under the blanket next to you. He asks whether you want to shower and you shake your head. “Tomorrow. I can barely stand right now, to be honest,” you comment which earns a light chuckle from him.

You both sigh out loud, staring at the ceiling and trying the process what the fuck just happened.

“Mark?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“I know it’s bad for your health, but do you think you can get drunk more often?”

He giggles at that, turning to his side so he can face you. He looks so sleepy and you let him caress your face with his fingers with the little energy he has left. “Thank you for today,” he says, smiling dreamily. He leans closer to press your temples together, rubbing the tip of his nose to yours in a childish manner before he kisses you softly. He drifts off to sleep soon after.

When you wake up the next morning, still naked and gross from the night before, you realize that yes, small purplish bruises are forming on the skin of your thighs, waist and for sure, your neck. You look to your right, seeing your boyfriend still sleeping soundly with his stomach pressed against your bed and his lips slightly parted. You don’t have the heart to wake him up, but your parents can come home anytime soon and they cannot catch the two of you looking like this.

“Mark,” you softly call, placing a hand on his cheek and rubbing his skin with your thumb. “Mark, wake up.”

He groans, turning his face away from you. You tap his shoulder, run a hand through his dark locks and still nothing. Huffing, you gather the very little energy you have—without coffee in the morning, you’re pretty much nothing—to turn his body around and crawl on top of him.

“Wha—” Mark’s eyes are half-open but don’t stay so for long when he notices how you’re basically straddling his bare abs with your naked body. He panics so much that he begins to flail all over the place and end up falling from the bed and knocking you off his lap in the process.

You break into a train of laughter, pulling some blanket to cover your body. “Guess sober Mark is back.”

“Why are you naked?!” He shrieks, head peeping out from under the bed, and he shrieks louder when he notices that he’s also in his birthday suit. “Why am I naked?!”

“You seriously don’t remember?”

Mark takes a few seconds to himself, trying to process everything that his blurry memories can give and his jaw falls slack on his face when he realizes that, “We had sex!”

“Yeah, we did. Twice.” You giggle, nudging your head toward your desk which is literally in chaos—papers scattered everywhere, books falling to the floor, pens unaligned.

Mark follows your gaze and gapes harder. “Shit, yeah, on that desk—I remember—wait, but how?! Why—” He looks like he’s physically hurting trying to remember every detail, and probably that’s his hangover talking.

“Want some aspirin?”

He pouts rather cutely. “Yes, please.” When you step down from the bed, leaving your blanket behind, Mark blushes and immediately turns his face away, unconsciously letting out a girly yelp as he does so.

“Umm, babe?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re naked.”

You stifle down a laugh. “Yes, I noticed. And so are you.”

Mark covers his bottom half with a pillow, face flushed. “C-can you put some clothes on?”

You were planning to, but seeing him react like this makes you re-think your decision. “Mark, we literally had sex twice yesterday.”

“I know, don’t say it!” He hides his face behind his palm. “It’s still embarrassing for me.”

“You certainly weren’t embarrassed last night,” you tease, “You even asked whether you could eat me out—”

“GAH!” He has both hands covering his ears, turning his entire body around to hide his face but the way his ears are going red is contradicting his action.

“Mark, look at me.”

“No way in hell!”

Smirking to yourself, you slowly walk to his spot, not covering even an inch of yourself. When you call him again, softer this time, Mark makes a mistake and throws you a glance. He’s no longer able to take his gaze off you after that.

You spread your legs, sitting on the pillow he has on his lap and wrapping both legs around his waist. Pressing your chest to his, you lean close to his ear. “Wanna go for another round?”

Mark gulps.

***

#mark lee #lee mark #nct #nct dream #nct scenarios #mark lee smut #nct smut #nct imagines #mark lee scenarios #mark lee imagines #fluff #mark lee fluff #mark nct #mark superm #super m #nct 127 #mark lee x reader #reader x mark lee #mark x reader #mark nct x reader #mark lee x you #mark nct x you #nct edit #nct fanfics #nct fanfic #mark lee fanfic #mark lee fanfics #mine #sundaysundaes

[yellowsuitcase]

Intertwined // Draco Malfoy

Request:  Hi, can i request an imagine where Y/N and Draco has been together for a long time but one time, Draco forgot to use protection and didn't care for Y/N in the next morning so she got reallll upset. At first Draco don't understand why Y/N acted like that so he gets angry back at her but then he realises the reason and they make every thing up. Start with rough smut, angst in the middle and end with fluff pleaseee. I'll patiently waiting for you sooo take your time and don't force yourself too much ❤

A/N: I don’t have much to say about this one, I really liked the request, I thought it was really real. Also this takes place after Hogwarts and Y/N + Draco live alone.

Summary: Draco is inconsiderate towards his girlfriend and Y/N is n o t happy about it.

Warning(s): SMUT!!! Unprotected sex, choking, swearing, angst, couple verbally fighting, fluff.

Word Count: 2k

Masterlist

{Not my gif also it’s so dramatic for this lol}

“That’s it, baby girl, ride my cock,” Draco purred as he gripped his girlfriend’s hips, slowly lifting her up and down on his dick. Y/N whimpered, they’d been at it for nearly thirty minutes now, and her pussy was painfully sensitive. Draco had already eaten her out as well as edged her with his fingers. But there she was, bouncing on his cock, wanting to please him. However, after a few more minutes of her riding him, Draco’s grip grew tighter, and he began slamming his hips upwards, pounding himself deep in her pussy.

“Fuck, Draco,” Y/N moaned as she let her legs go limp. Draco flipped them over and was now on top of her. His hand found her throat, and he held it firmly as his hips snapped into her mercilessly. He grabbed her legs and rested them against his shoulders. Y/N watched as he shut his eyes and let himself go, his pace getting even quicker. Loud squelching noises filled the couple’s bedroom, and Y/N could tell he was getting close.

“Such a good girl for me, my perfect little slut,” he grunted, making Y/N whine. She clenched her fingers in the bedsheets and warned him of her approaching orgasm. “Gonna cum again?” he teased. “Go on then, whore, cum on me,” he coaxed. Y/N closed her eyes and focused on the building pressure in her abdomen. But then, she felt Draco slap her clit and found herself cumming instantly from the stimulation. Draco laughed as she tightened her walls around him and scrunched her face in pleasure. He fucked her through her orgasm as his own was advancing. His thrusts became sloppy. Just as Y/N was beginning to whine about the sensitivity, Draco came inside her with a loud groan, his hips pressed flush against her ass. 

When he pulled out, Y/N quickly realized that Draco hadn’t used a condom. “Fuck baby girl, you look so pretty with my cum dripping from your cunt,” Draco breathed, his breath fanning over her swollen pussy. She wriggled her hips to get away from the cool air emerging from his lips, but then he yanked her close and licked a long stripe up her slit, pushing the semen back inside her with his tongue. A guttural moan left Y/N as she arched her back, the overstimulation sending sparks through her body. When Draco pulled away, Y/N expected him to help her into the shower, but she was wrong. Instead, he patted her pussy and flopped onto the bed beside her. 

“Goodnight darling,” he murmured before slipping underneath the covers and turning away from her. Y/N was shocked. This was rather uncharacteristic of Draco. Not using protection and now going to sleep right after sex. Quite frankly, it made her heart clench, and not in a good way. 

Slowly, she scooted herself off their king size mattress and trudged to the bathroom; the soreness between her legs made this a difficult task. Eventually, though, she got inside and immediately sat on the toilet. After she used it, she turned on the shower and sat back down, waiting for it to heat up. She couldn’t shake the confusion and the hurt from her mind. But ultimately, she decided to push those thoughts away and instead focused on cleaning her sweaty, bruised body. Draco’s always quite rough with her during sex, and she enjoyed it, but he had really done a number on her tonight. Maybe when he sees that tomorrow, he’ll apologize, she thought to herself as she rubbed the loofa up and down her arms.

When she eventually slid back into bed with Draco, she couldn’t help but lay her arm over his waist. Sure he’d been a bit inconsiderate tonight, but Y/N still wanted him close. So she stroked his stomach with her thumb as much needed sleep overtook her.

-----------

{The next morning}

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open as she yawned; the bright sunlight streaming from their windows was right on her face. She quickly shielded herself and looked to her left. Draco was still fast asleep. Y/N made sure not to wake him as she got up. Once on her feet, the memories of last night returned thanks to the pain between her legs. She hobbled down the hallway and stairs and made her way to the kitchen. She and Draco had no house elves per Y/N’s request, so they had to make their own meals. Y/N decided that today would be an omelet type of day. So she gathered all the necessary ingredients as well as a pan and began crafting the dish. 

While she was flipping the omelet, she heard Draco coming down the steps. She glanced over at him and watched as he settled into the cozy armchairs in their living room, not even bothering to greet her. Anger began to stir, but Y/N shoved it down and returned her eyes to the omelet, which she found was currently burning. “Shit!” she cursed as she quickly transferred it to a spare plate. 

The sound of a soft laugh caught her attention, and she turned her head to see Draco’s smiling face. Usually, this would amuse her, but not that morning. “Shut your trap,” she muttered as she started making a second omelet. 

“Excuse me?” Draco bellowed. Y/N instinctively tensed but held her ground. 

“You heard me. Shut up.” She heard Draco get to his feet and walk into the kitchen. Y/N’s anger was becoming unignorable now. But she kept her lips shut as he leaned on the counter beside her.

“What’s got you in such a foul mood?” he questioned. Y/N snapped, dropping her spatula on the marble countertop. Her head whipped towards Draco and his eyebrows jumped at the fury visible on her face.

“Why don’t you take a wild guess, Malfoy?” she spat, crossing her arms over her chest. Draco gave her a look of confusion. 

“Or you could just tell me what’s wrong,” he replied.

“Haha, no, I want you to figure it out.”

Draco couldn’t understand what his lover was getting at, and it was making him grow frustrated. “Y/N, I don’t have the patience for this bullshit; just spit it out,” he argued. Y/N shook her head in disbelief and flipped her omelet. 

“The fact that you won’t even stop and think for a second just proves how selfish you are.” This comment made Draco’s blood boil. He stood up straight and clenched his fists at his sides.

“Well, at least I’m not a fucking bitch like you,” he sneered. Y/N gasped, and Draco immediately regretted his words. He could see shiny tears in her eyes as she hurriedly turned off the stove and transferred the omelet to a plate. “Y/N, I didn’t mean that.” She shook her head and fled the kitchen, not even glancing at him as she stormed away. 

Draco kicked the cabinets, enraged with himself. He’d really done it now. And the worst part was he still couldn’t put his finger on why Y/N was so upset in the first place. Surely it wasn’t because of his laughter when she burnt the omelet. But if not that, then what else? Draco ran his hand through his hair as he began to pace in the kitchen. Eventually, though, he stopped himself, grabbed a plate, and started eating. The burnt texture was pretty awful, but Draco forced it down his throat anyway. 

Now with a full stomach, his head felt clear. He retraced his steps in his mind. He had come downstairs, then sat in the living room; that was it. But then he thought farther back, back to the previous night. And that’s when it hit him. “Fuck,” he muttered, dropping his face into his palms, feeling utterly terrible. Could he genuinely have just gone to bed right after sex? Now that he was thinking about it, Y/N’s neck was littered with love bites this morning, and she had looked exhausted. Yet he had done nothing for her, nothing at all. Draco felt sick to his stomach, and not because of the omelet. Without wasting another second, he jumped to his feet and hastily ran upstairs, but not before taking the second dish with him. 

A knock at Y/N’s door halted her tears. She sighed, not really wanting to face her boyfriend right then, but she still wiped her face and opened the door. There stood her blonde-haired boy, a guilty look on his face. “May I?” he asked. Y/N nodded and stepped back, allowing them into their shared bedroom. He set the plate in his hands on his desk and took hesitant steps towards her. It felt as though remorseful tension was in the air, and for a few moments, neither of them said a word. But then Draco lifted his hand and gently cradled her face, making her look up at him.

“I’m so sorry, love. I should have taken care of you last night instead of just falling asleep. And I shouldn’t have called you a bitch or been rude to you this morning. It was completely uncalled for, and I...I feel like an absolute dick, and I’m just really, really sorry.”

Y/N remained silent, simply letting her head rest in his hands. She could tell he was sincere. “I forgive you. But Draco," she started, "I could hardly hold myself up in the shower, and I really needed you. I wanted to cuddle with you like we usually do. And not to mention the fact you didn’t wear a condom, I could get pregnant…” she trailed off. Y/N wasn’t sure if she wanted a family so soon, or even at all. She didn’t think she nor Draco were even close to being ready for such a huge responsibility. But she was pulled from her thoughts by Draco stroking her cheek.

“Y/N, I promise you it will never happen again. You’re everything to me, and I will always take care of you and be there for you whenever you need me. I know I wasn’t last night. Last night I was reckless and a fucking git, but from now on I won't be, I swear it,” Draco declared. His eyes looked fearful as he waited for Y/N to reply. And she did, just not with words. She took a step forward and nestled herself against his chest. Draco immediately wrapped his arms around her and breathed in her scent, feeling at peace, knowing things were okay again. 

“I believe I am due for a cuddle appointment, Dr. Malfoy,” Y/N stated, breaking the silence with her playful tone. She giggled as Draco let her go and dragged her towards their bed. He then scooped her up, making her squeal, before he dropped her onto the bouncy mattress. Her bright smile was irresistible, and he scrambled onto the bed, smashing his lips onto hers. She kissed him back, passionately, happy to be reconciled. 

“Dr. Malfoy shall provide you with the necessary amount of cuddles to cure your ailment,” Draco stated in a funny voice, playing along with the bit. Y/N giggled and reconnected her lips with his, bringing his body close to hers.

And as the sun rose higher and higher into the sky, the couple remained on the bed, legs intertwined with legs and fingers clutching palms. Their hearts were content. All was forgiven. And even when the moon took the sun’s place, they still hadn’t detached from one another. They ended up falling asleep like that. And in the morning, Draco carried his girl to the bathroom, pledging to never let her wash alone again. 

Taglist: @beiahadid @pastelpuffbar @cutie1365 @dracoxmgg @lumlfy @sambucky8 @emilianamason @raplinethereal @dracosdeathmark @xoxohollands @prongsandprancer @ch0kemedracomalfoy @avlauriaa @purpleskymalfoy @mariah-can-dream @drxcomvlfx @sydnee-kom-spacekru​ @dracosgoodgirl @voilawind @gloryekaterina

#draco malfoy smut #Draco Malfoy #Draco #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy x yn #draco fuckingmalfoy #draco imagine #draco angst #draco x you #draco x reader #draco oneshot #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagines #draco smut #malfoy smut #request

[broccoliboix5peepeeman]

Please consider the following:

Todoroki reciting Shakespeare sonnets to Izuku in his usual deadpan way because Momo convinced him Izuku would find it romantic.

Izuku is naturally flustered, but also kind of amused because the subject matter in these sonnets is highly romantic, but coming from Todoroki's even voice with practically no inflection, and with this ridiculous look of determination mixed with uncertainty, it's all just...ridiculous (ridiculously adorable).

ASDFGHJKL I'M WHEEZING 😭

(Modern English translation of Sonnet 26 found Here)

Shoto coughs, gathering the attention of his classmates, who all simultaneously turn to stare at him in question. Sparing them no mind, he morphs his expression into one of nonchalance and straightens his posture.

'Er...' He begins intelligently when he spots familiar verdant eyes, framed by green curls and constellations of freckles. Despite his nerves, Shoto relaxes at the sight. 'Midoriya, can I talk to you outside for a minute?'

Everyone's gaze immediately lands on the object of his affections, who flushes terribly and nods. As the two of them exit, Shoto hears whistling from Kaminari.

Curious, he tilts his head to the side once they're outside. 'Midoriya, why was he whistling at us?'

'Ah!' His friend squeaks as he covers his face with his arms. 'D- Don't worry about it, T- Todoroki-kun! Erm... What did you want to talk to me about? Are you okay?'

Shoto stops at the bottom of the concrete stairs and scratches his scar.

'I'm okay. I just... I wanted to read you something.' He begins, lowering his head to hide his face under his fringe. 'I'm not good with words, but I wanted to tell you how I feel and Yaoyorozu said this might help.'

A gentle hand wraps around his wrist and Shoto looks up to find Midoriya gazing at him with such patience and warmth.

'Don't scratch.' He smiles softly, lowering their hands before he lets go. Shoto frowns at the loss. 'I'd love to hear you read.'

His words are filled with such sincerity that Shoto's confidence begins to rise. He clears his throat, pulls out a piece of paper and inhales with determination.

Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage

Thy merit hath my duty strongly knit,

To thee I send this written embassage,

To witness duty, not to show my wit:'

He pauses for a moment and glances up at Midoriya, who is staring at him with an emotion Shoto can't quite place. He cautions an expressionless demeanour in response and continues on into the unknown.

'Duty so great, which wit so poor as mine

May make seem bare, in wanting words to show it,

But that I hope some good conceit of thine

In thy soul’s thought, all naked, will-

A strange noise escapes Midoriya at that and Shoto once again looks up. A wobbly smile is plastered to his friend's face as he frantically waves his hands in front of him.

'Ah! Sorry, Todoroki-kun! I wasn't laughing, I promise!' He exclaims a little too quickly, before a pretty blush dusts his cheeks and he looks away with narrowed eyes. 'Please, continue.'

Shoto regards Midoriya for another moment, before shuffling on his feet and returning his attention to the sonnet, slightly uncertain.

In thy soul’s thought, all naked, will- bestow it:

Till whatsoever star that guides my moving,

Points on me graciously with fair aspect,

And puts apparel on my tottered loving,

To show me worthy of thy sweet respect:

Shoto bites his lip and looks up to meet Midoriya's eyes. He feels small flames lick at his face, but can't quite bring himself to put them out. Instead, he recites the part he'd spent hours memorizing for this very moment.

'Then may I dare to boast how I do love thee... Till then, not show my head where thou mayst prove me.'

Silence falls between them. Shoto's heart beats frantically as verdant eyes begin to water. 'I guess the last line doesn't make much sense because this is technically a confession but- Umph!'

A warm body crashes into him, wrapping him in a tight hug as Midoriya laughs against the crook of Shoto's neck, the sound music to his ears.

'That was really something, Todoroki-kun, thank you.' He giggles wetly. 'But please warn me next time!'

'Next time?' Shoto pulls back to look at him. 'Does that mean you liked it? You're not... uncomfortable?'

'Of course I liked it!' Midoriya beams, eyes crinkled with mirth and something more as he relaxes his smile. 'I like you too, Todoroki-kun, o' Lord of my love.'

Fireworks detonate in Shoto's head as he blushes a deep scarlet, mouth slightly agape. He quickly catches himself though and coughs behind his hand to hide his smile.

'In that case, I'll have to start practicing sonnet 18.'

#tododeku #todoroki shoto #midoriya izuku #todoizu #todomido #izutodo #shakespeare #shakespeare's sonnets #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #lovely people #AgarJelly writes #a little bit #long post

[rafecameron]

dance with me

summary: luke decides to step in and stop y/n’s friends from teasing her about never having a boyfriend. this leads to fake dates and real feelings.

pairing: luke patterson x reader

word count: 5.5k

warnings: fake dating, alcohol mentions

a/n: my second luke fic which took me way too long to finish because motivation deserted me. Gif is mine :)

It wasn’t a new feeling to feel somewhat left out and like a spare part. Y/N was more than used to her friends chatting away beside her like she wasn’t even in the room. She was sure it should have bothered her more than it did. Countless times people had asked why she put up with it, and the answer was always simple. Because they were her friends, at least one of them was. Yes the other two weren’t the greatest friends, she could at least admit to that. But she had known Jessica her whole life and now they were kind of part of the package, it was easier to be with them. And if she was being honest with herself she liked to sit on the outskirts, only listening in and never participating.

She wasn’t much of a talker. She enjoyed people watching and listening to her friends gossip, she could think of nothing worse than having attention on herself. Plus, if her friends were ignoring her it meant they weren’t pestering her about her love life. And that was something Y/N was more than thankful for. It started out harmless when they were younger. She was the last of her friends to hold a boy's hand. The last one to share a kiss. The last one to have a boyfriend (of course, because she still hadn’t). They had teased her about it.

“Oh, Y/N, why do you never go out? Why do you never have fun?”

“Don’t you want a boyfriend?”

“Please let us try and hook you up!”

But the meaningful pestering had slowly turned to more hurtful taunts.

“You’re so boring Y/N, you really need to lighten up!”

“You’ll never find a boyfriend if you don’t live a little!”

“Are you sure you want to come to the party? Everyone has a date, you’ll be alone like usual.”

She tried not to let it bother her. Rolling her eyes and shaking off her friends comments. She convinced herself she was fine on her own. She didn’t want a boyfriend and she certainly didn’t need one. She had considered finding one just to shut them up, but she couldn’t imagine dating someone just for the sake of it. She was old fashioned. She believed you should love wholeheartedly with everything in you. You should love truly and fiercely and definitely not give yourself away just to be included.

Y/N had seen her friends jump from one boy to the next, some not lasting more than a week. She didn’t want that. She would rather be seen as boring than throw herself at boys just for attention. She knew she had nothing in common with her friends and she also knew people wondered why they even hung out with her. But her friends were popular. And it was easier to be in the popular crowd and ignored than it was to be in the shadows and picked on.

It was near the end of lunch time when her friends finally noticed her again. Jessica was leaning against her locker, eyes locked on her compact mirror as she applied another layer of pink lipstick.

“You haven’t forgotten about my party this weekend, have you Y/N?” She asks before pursing her lips at her reflection.

Jessica was the girl Y/N had known the longest. She could stand Jessica. When they weren’t around everyone else she was back to being the girl she’d met when they were seven. Giddy and excitable, not caring what she looked like. But in public she put on the image of the perfect princess, and she definitely played it well.

“It’s your birthday Jessica, how could I forget?” She rolls her eyes with a smile gracing her lips.

Jessica snaps her mirror shut and forms her pink lips into a dazzling smile, “So you’ll be there?”

“Of course I’ll be there.” She agrees with a nod, she would call Jessica her best friend, she wouldn’t miss her birthday party for anything.

“Are you bringing someone?” Jasmine asks, her perfectly trimmed brow quirking up with her question, “We wouldn’t want you standing on your own in the corner like last time.” She smiles, tight lipped and fake as she waits for a reply.

She opens her mouth slightly, considering for a moment if it was a good idea to lie and say she was bringing someone, just to wipe the smug look from Jasmine's face. But before she can decide if that is a good idea or a train wreck waiting to happen a voice speaks up.

“Of course not,” Amber giggles, “Have you ever had a date before, Y/N?” Amber tilts her head, a smile just as fake as jasmines setting on her lips.

“No, but that’s okay,I don’t revolve my self worth around boys' attention.” She returns Amber's smile.

“That’s good! Because you don’t get any!” Amber retorts back with a laugh.

“Amber-“ Jessica begins to scold her friend but is cut off before she can begin.

“Hey, Y/N.” A voice from behind her catches everyone’s attention.

Jessica raises a brow at the boy behind her friend as she turns to see who exactly was greeting her.

“Oh, hi, Luke.” Y/N replies, her hand coming up in a small wave, she cringes at her own awkwardness.

“I just wanted to make sure we’re still on for tonight,” the boy smiles at her and she can’t help but forrow her brows.

She knows Luke from a couple of her classes but she can’t say she’s ever said more than a few words to the boy. Her memory wasn’t amazing but she was pretty sure she hadn’t made any sort of plans with the boy, he was practically a stranger after all.

“Uh, I-“ she begins to tell him that she has no clue what he’s talking about but he cuts her off again as if he knows what she will say.

“I know I said I wasn’t sure what we should do, but I was thinking we could catch a movie?” Luke raises both of his brows at the girl in front of her, willing her to just go along with it.

And if Y/N has learnt anything from her many years people watching she knows how to read signs, something finally clicking in her head as she quickly nods.

“Right!” She smiles, “Yes, a movie that sounds great! Is seven still good?”

Luke nods, a grin appearing on his face, “Seven, yeah, see you then.” He sends her a last nod before burying his hands into his pockets and turning away, feeling pretty pleased with himself.

Y/N turns back to her friends feeling extremely confused but determined not to show it. Amber and Jasmine look somewhat annoyed but Jessica is practically bursting with excitement.

“Y/N!” She squeals and grabs her shoulders, “Why didn’t you say you had a date with that cute boy?” She shakes her friend for an answer.

The girl laughs, prying her friends hands from her shoulders, “I guess it slipped my mind.” She offers with a shrug.

“Slipped your mind?” Jessica she is sure is about to reprimand her but her scolding is cut off by the ringing off the bell, “I want all the details!” She finishes instead.

She sends her friend one last grin before grabbing onto Amber and Jasmine and pulling them down the hall while Y/N turns the opposite way and heads to literature. She couldn’t honestly say why Luke had come over to them but she was glad he had. The looks on her friends' faces when they thought she had a date was the best thing to happen to her in a long time.

She took her seat in the classroom, the room already almost full of students. The seat next to her was taken up by the boy who had stood in front of her just moments before.

“Hey,” she greets as she opens up her notebook, “What was all that about?” She asks.

Luke looks over to her, his desk empty of anything except a blunt pencil which he was rolling around with a finger. He shrugs, smiling as he meets her eyes.

“I guess I got sick of your friends always making fun of you for not having a boyfriend.” He replies like it’s nothing.

“Wait, you know about that?” She asks, a soft laugh leaving her lips, “I never realised people noticed.”

Luke nods, “I notice a lot of things. It’s not right, friends shouldn’t put each other down. I hate seeing it, so I thought I’d wipe the smirks off their faces. Thanks for going along with it.”

She offers him a genuine smile, “I nearly didn’t, I was so confused!” She admits causing him to laugh, “But thank you.”

He opens his mouth to reply but the late bell sounds and the teacher shuts the door bringing the class to silence. So instead he sends her one last smile before averting his eyes out of the window, his finger still pushing the pencil he’d stolen from Reggie around his desk.

The hour dragged by slowly. She didn’t mind this class most of the time but she couldn’t get her mind to focus on the poem they were supposed to be dissecting. If there was one thing she could never grasp it was poetry. She found it beautiful and clever, but she couldn’t tell you what most of it meant. So when the bell finally rang to signal the end of the lesson she let out a sigh of relief and snapped her notebook closed.

“Not like poetry?” Luke asks with a laugh at her slightly dishevelled look after running her hands through her hair.

“If my life depended on understanding poetry I’d have been dead a long time ago.” She admits, and then frowns at the awkwardness of being death up in a conversation.

“Well, it’s a good thing it doesn’t then.” Luke grins as he follows her out of the glass room.

The pair don’t get two steps away from the door before they are bombarded by a blonde in a pink dress.

“Why haven’t you replied to my text?” Jessica stresses, reaching out and grabbing Luke by the shirt as he tries to slip past her, “Are you bringing your new date to my party?” She deposits Luke back by Y/N’s side and looks at the pair expectantly.

“Oh! Uh, well I hadn’t actually brought it up yet.” She offers with a shrug.

“Well then you’re lucky I brought it up for you!” Jessica grins, “It’s on Saturday at nine, my house. I’ll see you there!” She waves to Luke before disappearing in the crowd of people.

Luke and Y/N share a look, one full of confusion, hopefulness and a tinge of awkwardness.

“Guess I’m your date to a party?” Luke asks with a soft chuckle, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

Y/N quickly shakes her head, “No! No please don’t feel the need, I’ll just make something up.”

“So you don’t want me to go?” Luke asks holding a hand up to his heart, “I’m slightly offended.”

“I mean…” she bites her lower lip, looking around the hallway desperate for an escape which never came, “I just meant, it’s not necessary.”

Luke laughs, “I’m only messing with you,” he reaches out and taps her arm lightly, “But uh, i'll go, if you want. I kind of want to mess with your friends a little more.” He admits.

She raises a brow and laughs a little, “Like, fake date?” She asks, laughing again when Luke nods. She knows she should say no, roll her eyes and push him away, but the memory of Amber and Jasmines faces from earlier flashed back into her mind. This opportunity was too good to pass up on, it’s not like she was throwing herself at boys like she promised herself she wouldn’t, it’s all fake. And what’s the harm in fake dating a cute boy?

“Okay,” she nods, “Fake boyfriend, i'll see you there.”

------

The more she thought about it the more she was convinced she was crazy. Fake dating someone was one thing, but fake dating someone she’d never even held a conversation with? That was off the spectrum of crazy. How was she supposed to convince her friends that she was actually dating someone who she knew nothing about? What if they actually had nothing in common? What if when they finally do hang out they can’t stand each other? She supposed they could just fake break up just as convincingly as they fake got together. And she decided that was probably the best option. Break it off now before it got too out of hand for everyone involved. It was what she fully intended on doing. Her speech was already planned out and rehearsed multiple times on the walk to Jessica’s party.

She was going to walk up to him, look him straight in the eye and tell him it was a crazy idea and they needed to stop. She didn’t have time for a real boyfriend let alone a fake one and she didn’t want anyone to get hurt. But as she rounded the corner and saw the boy waiting for her the plan fizzled out of her thoughts immediately and she found herself skipping over to him with a grin.

“Don’t you scrub up nicely.” She comments, tugging playfully on his shirt.

He had forgone his usual slogan tees with ripped sleeves and dressed in a plain black T-shirt and jeans, a plaid shirt thrown on the top which she was sure she’d seen a friend of his wearing the week before.

Luke shrugs looking almost bashful for a second, “I didn’t want to stand out and show you up. You look nice.” He adds, finally looking her up and down.

She’d chosen a simple dress, dark blue in colour and stopping just above the knee, “Yeah well, I didn’t want to show you up.” She teases with a nudge of her elbow.

“I guess we should get this awful evening over with then?” Luke jokes, offering his arm to her to link hers through which she does instantly.

The party was already in full swing when they walked through the doors, her friends drunk to the point of not caring about her arrival which she was more than pleased about.

“I don’t really drink.” She comments as she grabs a can of cola from the table, Luke helps himself to one after.

“Me neither.” He smiles, “I’d rather know what I’m doing...And not look like an idiot.” He leans up to look over her shoulder at the girl stumbling around in her heels like bambi on ice.

She looks over her shoulder, letting out a laugh at the sight before turning back, “You mean you don’t want to look like that?” She grins and grabs onto his arm, “C’mon, there's nothing more annoying than drunk people.”

She leads him outside, pulling him down onto a bench beside her. The backyard was quieter than inside the house, fewer drunk people shouting and laughing and mostly just people chilling out.

“Honestly, I don’t really like parties.” Luke comments, taking a sip from his can, “I’d much rather hang out with some friends and chill.”

Y/N nods her head in agreement, “Same, but unfortunately my friends are the ones who throw all the parties.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way but, why are you friends with them?” Luke looks over to her and raises an eyebrow in question, “You don’t really seem to fit with them.”

“Jessica’s my best friend, the others...Well, they’re friends with Jess so I guess I have to put up with them.” She shrugs, averting her gaze from his intense stare and looking down at her can in her hands.

“Yeah but you don’t have to put up with them being bitches to you.” Luke comments.

She lets out a laugh, leaning her head back against the bench and looking over to him, “It’s not that bad. It’s either that or sitting on my own everyday. And I’ve never heard you swear before.”

“Y/N! Luke!” Jessica practically screams their names, stumbling through the patio doors and pulling her nights catch along behind her, “I’m so glad you came! Together!”

She leans down pulling her into a clumsy hug, almost knocking Luke out with her elbow as she pulls back.

“So! This is getting pretty serious, huh?” She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively at her friend causing her to laugh.

“Jess, it’s been three days.” She giggles, she feels Luke's hand grab hers and allows him to intertwine their fingers, “Three great days.” She adds on with a grin she was sure was the definition of cheesy.

“I’m so happy for you!” Jessica pouts grabbing onto her friends spare hand, “I guess this means you’ll be going to the dance together?” She gasps, the grin on her face radiating excitement.

“Uh,” She looks over at Luke expectantly, eyebrows raised in question.

“We wouldn’t miss it.” Luke answers for them, squeezing her hand and shooting Jess a smile.

Jess lets out a squeal before the boy attached to her hand begins to tug her back inside complaining that it's cold. She rolls her eyes and mouths an apology before disappearing back into the throng of people inside.

“We don’t really have to go.” She begins to say quickly but Luke jumps up and pulls her with him by her hand.

“I don’t mind. And uh, as much as I dislike parties, we’re not going to annoy your friends if we sit out here all night.” He shoots her a cheeky grin before dragging her into the mass of the party.

They discard their empty cans on the kitchen table and head to the living room which has been turned into a makeshift dance area. The room was packed and Y/N already felt nervous about the idea of dancing and being surrounded by so many people.

“I can’t really dance.” She laughs, stopping in the midst of the drunk dancers.

“It’s not proper dancing,” Luke shrugs, he grabs ahold of her waist and pulls her into him, their chests pressing together as his arms snake around her back, “And your friends are watching.”

He smirks as she averts her eyes to the left, Amber and Jasmine watching their every move with matching scowls causing her to giggle. She lifts her hands and rests them against Luke’s chest, letting him move her along to the pop song which was playing too loudly.

“I don’t think we fit in.” She mentions, watching the couples around her grind against each other.

Luke laughs, “Well if you want to fit in.” He quickly spins her around, pulling her back so her back is pressed against his chest, “We can dance like this.” He whispers into her ear as his hands rest against her hips.

She feels her face heat up and lets out a laugh hoping to cover it up, “I guess this is more believable, but I’m not doing that!” She motions with her head towards the couple beside them who were grinding aggressively against each other.

“Deal.” Luke laughs against her cheek as he slides his arms fully around her waist.

Dancing with Luke for the whole night was not as torturous as she had expected it to be. They talked, at least as well as they could with the loud music. She found she got on with Luke quite well which she hadn’t expected. He was funny and sweet, his usual rugged appearance not one which matched his personality at all. When they finally decided to leave the party he offered to walk her home and she agreed. Their intertwined hands splitting apart once they were far enough away from the party to not be seen.

“It’s weird, having a fake boyfriend.” She comments, looking up to the night sky, the stars barely shining through the group of clouds overhead, “I almost like it. Like having a boyfriend but minus all the drama.”

“I thought you’d never had a boyfriend.” Luke laughs.

She shrugs and looks over to him, “From what I’ve seen with my friends I’m not sure I ever want a real one.”

“Well I’m glad I make an acceptable fake boyfriend.” Luke nudges her with his shoulder eliciting a laugh from her.

------

The following week at school was full of preparations for the dance, Y/N feeling more excited about it than she ever had before. This time she would actually be going with someone! Fake or not, it was still a lot more exciting than standing around alone for the whole night. She’d also spent the week getting to know Luke more. They were ‘dating’ after all so they had to hang out in public to make it look at all believable. He spent a lunch with her and her friends, but she didn’t blame him for hating every minute of it. Amber and Jasmine weren’t nice to her and they definitely weren’t nice to him.

She spent most of her lunches with him and his friends, having much more fun than she’d like to admit. She watched them rehearse, half of it actual rehearsing half of it messing around. She liked Luke’s friends and even started feeling a little bad about lying to them when Alex said how happy he was they were happy together. She found she got on with Reggie the best. He was silly and it was a nice change of pace to her own friends to be around someone who didn’t care what anyone thought.

She was also getting used to the physical touches, maybe too used to it. She noticed that Luke was a touchy person, he was always wrapping his arms around his friends shoulders and nudging them and that didn’t stop when it got to her. She now wasn’t sure if it was because of the fake relationship or because he really was like that with everyone. But she found she didn’t mind. She quite liked when he would hold her hand in the hallways or throw his arm over her shoulders when they were sat somewhere. She had to keep reminding herself that he only meant it in a friendly way.

Friday came around quickly and she took the day off from hanging out with like to spend time decorating with Jess, something they always helped out with for every dance.

“What colours your dress? Is Luke getting a matching tie?” Jessica asks as she helps her hang a banner from the ceiling.

Y/N was sat atop Jessica's shoulders struggling to secure the string to the ceiling, they knew they would get told off if a teacher saw them like this but neither could be bothered to go and find the ladders so they had to make do.

“I was thinking either blue or green,” She comments, her words muffled around the extra string in her mouth, “And I hadn’t even thought about ties.”

“He has to be matching! Otherwise you will look odd!” Jess complains.

She had always been way more invested in fashion than Y/N ever had, she didn’t really see the harm in Luke’s tie not matching her dress, but also knew Jess wouldn’t let it go.

“I’ll talk to him.” She mumbles out, letting out a cheer when she finally gets the banner to stick.

As she climbed down from Jessica’s shoulders she was met with a pair of blue eyes, her friend quickly slinking away behind her.

“Hey Y/N, can I talk to you for a sec?” Jason asks.

She chews on her bottom lip, silently scolding her friend for abandoning her, “Yeah, sure.” She offers a smile.

“I was just wondering if you’d want to go to the dance with me? I know it’s a little last minute but…” Jason rubs the back of his neck with his hand, sending her an awkward shrug.

“Oh! Uhm…” She pauses for a moment at a complete loss for an answer. She was supposed to be going with Luke. But that wasn’t real, whereas this could actually lead to something, she was sure Luke would understand if she cancelled with him, she knew he never usually went to dances anyway.

But as she looked up to answer her eyes landed on the figure walking down the hallway towards them, Luke shot her a smile and raised his brows at the boy in front of her and she thought about how she felt when she was with him. Fake dating or not, Luke was her friend now, and friends didn’t cancel on each other last minute.

“I’m sorry Jason, I’m already going with someone. But thanks for asking me.” She offers him her kindest smile.

“No worries, I thought it was a long shot being this late.” He shrugs again and bids her goodbye before disappearing around the corner.

“What was all that about?” Luke asks, leaning against the locker in front of her with a curious look in his eyes.

“He asked me to the dance.” She answers.

“And?” Luke prompts.

“And I said no.” She laughs.

“You did?” Luke doesn’t try to hide the grin that appeared on his face, “Why would you say no? To an actual date, instead of a fake one?”

“I don’t know.” She fiddles with the bottom of her jacket, pulling it tighter around her, “I considered it, but it didn’t feel right, I didn’t want to cancel on you.”

“Well I’m flattered.” Luke laughs, “I was actually looking for you, what colour dress are you wearing? Jess just shouted at me about ties.”

She just rolls her eyes and links her arm through Lukes to pull him down the hallway.

------

Y/N paces on her front porch as she waits for Luke to turn up, part of her dress skirt scrunched in her hand to prevent her from stepping on it and tripping over. She had never felt so nervous before. She had to keep reminding herself that this is a fake date. Luke doesn’t actually like her and she’s sure the feelings she's starting to get are just results of faking sed feelings in public.

“Why are you out here?” Luke’s voice cuts through her worrying thoughts and she turns to him with a smile.

“My mum was bugging me about pictures. I thought it was safer out here.” She laughs, biting her lower lip at the sight of Luke stood on her porch, his suit fitting his body perfectly and his tie an exact match to the green of her dress.

“You look amazing.” Luke breathes out in awe, he holds his hand out to her and she gladly accepts it and lets him lead her down the steps.

“So do you.” She replies quietly.

The ride to the school is quiet but she’s acutely aware of Luke’s eyes flickering over to her during the drive. She doesn’t comment on it but the butterflies in her stomach go wild at every glance.

“Did you help put this together?” Luke asks as they enter the hall.

The hall was decorated with blue and silver giving it a wintery feel, balloons and streamers around the outskirts and hanging from the ceiling.

She shrugs, “I guess. Jess did most of it, I just helped.”

“Well it looks great.” He compliments.

They stand in the doorway sharing a glance before looking around the room, “So, I don’t usually come to these. What do we do now? I thought people would be dancing.”

She laughs and slaps his chest lightly, “People won't be dancing till later, once the punch has been spiked.” she grins and takes hold of his hand to lead him to one of the tables around the edge of the dancefloor.

“I’ll admit, I’m surprised this is still a thing.” Jasmine comments as she sits opposite them, “Are you not bored yet?” She directs her question to Luke who shoots her a glare.

“Why would I be bored? She’s the most interesting girl I’ve ever met, she's actually real.” He comments back playing with her fingers in his.

Jasmine lets out a laugh, eyebrows raised as she lifts her drink to her lips as if she thought Luke was crazy, which she probably did.

“Where’s your date?” Luke asks.

Jasmine’s glass hits the table with a glare, “I’d rather be dateless than have whatever this is.” She points between the two before standing up and stomping off.

“Sounds like jealousy!” Luke calls after her and Y/N erupts into a fit of giggles beside him.

“I think she hates you more than she does me.” She laughs leaning into Lukes side.

The hall soon began to fill up with students, couples slowly making their way onto the dancefloor as the dance fully started. She had spotted Jessica and sent her a wave as the girl made her way to the dancefloor where she would stay for the entire night. Y/N wasn’t sure how to dance and she would take a wild guess that Luke didn’t know either, this didn’t seem like his kind of scene.

“Do you want to dance?” Luke asks as though reading her thoughts.

“You want to?” She responds.

“I can try.” He laughs and stands up motioning for her to join him, “Can’t come to a dance with an actual date and not have at least one dance.” Her cheeks heat up at the comment about it being an actual date, not sure if Luke meant it or if it was just a slip of the tongue, she didn’t point it out.

His hand finds hers as they walk to the dancefloor, finding a spot in the middle which she was thankful for, less likely people will see them there. Luke's arms wrapped around her waist and hers went around his shoulders, much like at the party except their movements were slower.

“Is this right.” He asks and she lets out a soft laugh.

“No idea, but it feels good to me.” She hesitates for a moment before leaning forward and resting her cheek against his chest.

The stay pressed together for the next two songs in a comfortable silence before she decides to break it.

“Why are people staring at us?” She asks.

Luke hadn’t noticed but looks around at her question and notices a few eyes on them, he shrugs, “Because we’re the best looking couple here?”

She laughs and slaps his arm, pulling her head away from his chest, “I’m serious! It’s making me nervous.”

Luke sighs and squeezes her waist lightly, “I have no idea. Maybe people are just surprised to see us here together.”

She considers it for a moment before finally nodding her head, “Yeah, that’s probably it.”

Luke watches her look around anxiously for another moment before he squeezes her sides again to bring her attention back to him.

“I know we haven’t been here long, but I think we’ve made our point, do you wanna get out of here?” he smiles down at her and she doesn’t have to think twice about nodding her head.

Once out of the building Y/N lets out a sigh of relief, “I didn’t realise how claustrophobic I felt in there.” She breathes out.

“Yeah, it’s tough work being surrounded by people like that.” Luke agrees, “I’d much rather hang out just us two.”

Luke drove them away from the school and to a park, the street lamps illuminating the play area which he led her to. They sat down on the swing set, both angled towards each other as they swayed back and forth slowly. They talked about anything they could think of; family, Luke’s band, memories, movies, music. They talked for what felt like hours before Luke jumped off his swing and held his hand out to her.

“What?” She asks as he leads her to a clear area.

“Well, we’re supposed to be at a dance right? So dance with me again.” He pulls her into his arms as she laughs at him.

“There’s no music.” She comments and he just shrugs.

“I was thinking,” He begins, looking around nervously as he bites his lower lip, “When you’re finished with me being your fake boyfriend, maybe you could let me take you on a real date?”

She felt her cheeks heat up a little bit and didn’t hide the smile growing on her face, “Well, maybe I’m done with you being my fake boyfriend now.”

Luke’s face lights up, his eyes finding hers again and looking a lot less nervous, “Yeah? So you wouldn’t mind if I did this then?” He asks.

He leans forward, his lips grazing across hers lightly before pulling her into a kiss. She felt like the world around her had stopped, the only thing indicating she hadn’t died and gone to heaven was the rapid beating of her heart. When he pulled away she pouted up at him.

“I only mind that you pulled away.” She replies, his smile being covered by her lips again as she pulled him close to her.

They stayed kissing and swaying in the silence until Luke finally said he should take her home. They planned their first real date for the next morning, because neither of them could wait longer than that.

tags: @rudyypankow​ @chrlsgillespie​ @crybabyddl​ @lovesanimals​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @alexpjoyner​

#luke patterson x reader #luke patterson fic #luke patterson imagine #jatp x reader #my writing

[justmypartner]

Just the Time

Summary: Part 2 to my fic Overtime. When Jay finally acquires the perfect ring for Hailey, he can’t decide on a plan to propose. However, his plans may need to shift when Hailey catches him in a lie.

Writer’s Note: Hi everyone!! I hope you are all surviving hiatus okay! I never thought I’d actually make a part 2 to Overtime (my first fic ever!), but that Upstead proposal had me feeling some type of way. So, in the spirit of proposals I thought it would be a perfect time to write part 2. You don’t have to read Overtime to know what’s going on, but it does provide additional context! As always, thank you so much for reading!!

“It’s perfect,” Jay said as he admired the beautifully dainty piece of jewelry that was finally his and soon to be Hailey’s. An uncontrollable smile came across his face thinking about finally giving it to her, and he knew it was going to be a hard secret to keep.

“I’ll go get a box for you,” the woman behind the counter told him with a friendly smile before disappearing into a back room.

It had been a long few months of saving money and taking overtime shifts, but he finally had enough to buy the ring. It wasn’t a fun or easy journey. He was working normal Intelligence cases, then putting on his old patrol uniform and working night shifts any time they came available. The first gig he and Hailey did together. She thought it was his idea of an unorthodox date and she jumped at the opportunity to see him on patrol, but when he continued to pursue overtime gigs without her, she began to question why he was so desperate for money. He was able to come up with an excuse that he wanted to do some modifications to his truck. Luckily, she wasn’t invested enough to question him further, but the extra work was beginning to wear him down and this did not go unnoticed by her. Seeing him continue to take the gigs despite how exhausted he was, led her to question his intentions once again. He was only one paycheck away from finally having enough money to pay off the ring when she suggested he slow things down for a while to recover from the heavy load he had taken on. He agreed and her skepticism began to cool back down.

The drive home was spent with a hundred ideas circulating in his brain about the proposal. He’d been trying to come up with an idea since he picked out the ring, but his indecisiveness stood in the way of any real plans. Their one year anniversary was coming up, and he knew he wanted to propose then, however, he just wasn’t sure how. Proposing after just one year together may be too soon for any normal couple, but they weren’t any normal couple. He spent years loving her, wasting time burying his feelings, but now he was done wasting time. She was his future, his forever person, and he wanted to make that official.

The ring was perfect, he just needed a proposal that matched its level of unique simplicity. He knew her, and he knew she wouldn’t want anything too traditionally girly or extravagant, but he also knew she deserved something special. Not something cliche like popping the question in a restaurant or hiding the ring in the bottom of a champagne glass. It needed to be deeper than that and it needed to represent them, he just wasn’t sure what that would look like. His brainstorming was cut short when he pulled up outside of their building. He eyed the ring resting on the seat beside him, and he knew whatever idea he came up with wouldn’t hold a flame to the happiness he’d have when he finally slipped that ring on her finger. He didn’t want to bring the box up to the apartment on the off chance she would accidentally come across it. She was an elite detective after all. So, he locked it in the glove compartment of his truck and made his way upstairs.

“There you are!” He heard her call out from the kitchen as he opened the door. The smell of coffee and waffles filled the room, and he smiled to himself, knowing her weekend routine like the back of his hand.

“Hi, beautiful,” he told her, making his way around the counter to leave a peck on her lips.

A frown came across her face when he pulled away as her eyes traveled down to his empty hands before making their way back up to his face.

“I thought you said you were going to the store?” She questioned, her brow furrowed as the words left her mouth.

It took everything in him not to express the panic in his mind. In the excitement of finally getting the ring, he forgot to actually go to the store, the errand he told her he was running when she questioned why he was quietly escaping the bed earlier that morning.

“I- well I got out the door and Will called saying he needed my help. He locked himself out of his car, so he called me for the spare. By the time I got over there, I figured it would be too late to go to the store, so I just came back here. I can go out after work,” he told her, leaning forward to leave another light kiss on her lips. He was grateful for his experience in undercover that allowed him to think of an excuse on the fly.

She nodded, but she wasn’t fully convinced of his story. She grew up in an environment that had her consistently questioning the truth behind what she was told by her loved ones. She never felt the need to do that with Jay, something she found comfort in. But in that moment, she noticed a familiar hesitation in his voice that made her uneasy. He also seemed nervous, and she wasn’t quite sure why. Yet, she trusted him, so she decided to let it rest. She knew if it were important enough, he would tell her whatever it was when he was ready. Jay was just relieved that she didn’t press him further.

They had breakfast together before heading into work. It was a strange day. They hadn’t been called onto a new case all morning, so they spent the day catching up on paperwork. It was the type of day that had Adam climbing the walls, but everyone else was grateful for the rare quiet. Particularly, Jay, who took advantage of the quiet by conjuring up proposal ideas in his head.

By the end of the day, they were all dragging, running off of coffee and pacing the bullpen floor between their bouts of paperwork.

“Alright, everyone is coming out to Molly’s tonight. I don’t care if you already have plans. Cancel them. After this slow ass day, we’re popping things off tonight,” Adam announced, shoving himself away from his desk and rising from his chair the second it was six o’clock.

After heading out of the district, they all made their way to Molly’s to meet Adam’s wishes. Adam was already there when Jay and Hailey arrived, sitting next to an amused looking Kevin who watched his friend challenge a bunch of Squad 3 guys to a drinking challenge.

Jay settled at a table near the back as Hailey made her way to the bar to get them drinks, leaving a kiss against his temple and sliding a hand across his back before stepping away. Will was at the bar, engaged in a conversation with Herrmann when she walked up.

“Hey Will,” she said, nudging her shoulder against his as she stepped up to the bar.

“Hey there,” he replied back with a smile, bringing his glass to his lips.

“Two beers please,” she said to Herrmann in a sweet tone before settling on the barstool next to the doctor.

“So did you end up finding your keys?” She asked, remembering the story Jay had told her earlier that morning.

“Uh, what?” Will questioned, sending her a look of confusion.

“Your keys? Jay said he had to meet you this morning to give you the spare…” her voice trailed off, a feeling of suspicion building up in her stomach at Will’s clueless expression.  

“Oh… yeah…” he let out as his eyes travelled over to his brother across the bar. “Yeah, I found them in my locker at work. Late shift last night, must have just blanked,” he admitted unconvincingly. Hailey’s eyes narrowed at him, and she bobbed her head slowly as she began to officially question why the two of them were lying to her. Herrmann set the drinks in front of her on the bar, and she thanked him, sending a departing nod to Will before making her way back over to Jay.

“So, Will found his keys,” she said, setting the bottles on the table between her and Jay before sliding onto the chair across from him.

“Wait, what?” He asked, causing her to raise a questioning brow at him, anger rising in her chest. He looked at her and then over at Will, confusion still forestalling his understanding. Then it hit him. His cover from earlier.

“Why are you lying to me Jay?” She questioned straightly, a steely tone in her voice.  

“What? No, I-“ he paused. He couldn’t lie to her again, but he also couldn’t tell her the truth without ruining the surprise. He sighed in defeat. “Look right now, I can’t tell you where I was. It’s nothing bad. I promise. I just can’t tell you and need you to trust me,” he pleaded.

Her lips folded together, and she nodded in annoyance before rising from her chair to walk away.

“Hailey, wait,” he said, grabbing gently at her arm before she could make her way past him.

“No, Jay. I don’t do lying and you know that. Whatever it is, good or bad, you could have just said you couldn’t tell me yet and I would have respected that. Instead, you lied, but don’t worry your brother did too,” she shook her head with frustration. Suddenly, an eerie feeling of déjà vu brought her back to the many times as a kid when her mother would cover her father’s stories and excuses with even more lies. “I’m going home,” she told him, tearing away from his grasp.

“Let me at least drive you,” he said, a softness in his eyes.

“No, I’ll call a car,” she said before walking away and out to the street.

Will must have noticed their interaction and was making his way over to his brother.

“Dude, what the hell is going on?” He questioned, sliding into the chair Hailey had just fled from.

“I picked up the ring this morning and had to lie about where I was so she wouldn’t find out. Now, she’s pissed,” Jay said, taking a large swig from his bottle.

“Why don’t you just go tell her?” Will questioned.

“I want it to be perfect. She deserves something special, and I haven’t had the chance to figure out what that is yet. Now is just not the time,” he admitted.

“Or now is just the time. Jay, no matter how you ask that girl, she’s going to say yes a million times over. There may never be a perfect time or place to ask her, and if you wait too long, it may be too late to get the answer you want. Don’t ruin this thing you’ve got because you’re too stuck in your head. The two of you are meant for each other, I know it. So don’t overthink it. Just do it,” Will shrugged, bringing a hand to Jay’s shoulder as he tried to talk sense into him. Jay nodded at his words, rising from his chair to go chase after her.

“Hailey,” he called out as he caught sight of the blonde waiting at the corner.

“Jay, I’m really not in the mood,” she breathed out, her body still facing the street.

“Hailey, please. I just need you to trust me.”

“Jay, you know I trust you,” she said, twirling around to face him. “I’ve trusted you from the day I met you-” she got out, and suddenly it clicked in his head. He knew exactly where and how he wanted to ask her. He pulled out his keys, clicking the lock for his truck before grabbing her hand and pulling her towards it.

“Jay, what are you doing?” She protested, pulling away as he tried to drag her towards the truck.

“Hailey, please. Cancel your ride and get in the truck, we have to go back to the district,” he said, continuing to pull her with him.

“The district? Jay, what is going on?” She frowned, planting her feet firmly when they reached outside the passenger door of his truck.

“I’m going to tell you everything, just get in the truck.”

She eyed him, crossing her arms as she stood her ground.

He stepped closer to her, hunching over so he was eye level with her and bringing his face inches away from hers.

“Get. In. The. Truck. Please,” he whispered. She gave in, shaking her head in annoyance before climbing in. He leaned forward, stealing a kiss from her lips, eliciting an eye roll and a reluctant smile out of her.

“For the record, I’m still pissed at you,” she said.

“Hopefully not for long,” he teased before shutting the door.  

Back at the district, he turned off the engine, jumping from the driver’s seat and running to her side of the truck to open the door.

“Jay. What are we doing here?” She questioned. He brought a finger up to his lips in response before offering her a hand to get out of the truck. Once she was out, he reached in, grabbing the ring from his glove compartment before putting it in his pocket and shutting the door. He grabbed her hand, leading her into the building and up the stairs into the district. He held tightly to her as he dragged her upstairs to the bullpen, the baffled look on her face growing the deeper into the district they went. Finally, he pulled her past the desks, through the dark hallway, and into the observation room. He turned on the low light and shut the door, moving to lean up against the glass as he eyed her perplexed and annoyed face across from him. He took a deep breath.

“This is not at all where I imagined we’d end up tonight,” he admitted, a slight smile on his face.

“Then why are we here?” She mocked, now equal parts annoyed and curious by his actions.

“You know to anyone else in the district, this is just a lowly observation room. A horribly lit, tiny little room they probably don’t even think twice about. But to me? To me this room…it’s special,” he said, taking a beat as his eyes circled the room before finding their way back to her.

“Three years ago we stood in this room as completely different people. You were with someone else, I was just beginning to come out of a bad place, and everything was just… different. But you said something to me that day that changed my life forever. I was in here beating myself up over a case, one that you backed me up with when I gave you no reason to, and you told me you trusted me from the day you met me. Same way you did tonight. You said that if you were to follow someone blind, you’d follow me. Well, that was the moment I realized I was in love with you, and every day since then, I’ve loved you Hailey Upton,” he said, tears filling his eyes as he smiled through his words. “Every moment with you since then, to the moment we kissed in that bar, to now, you have filled my heart in ways I never knew could be filled. A few months ago when you and Kim were working that UC case in that bar, there was a brief period of time when I thought I had lost you. That night, I decided I didn’t want to feel that way again. I decided I wanted to be with you forever. We’re better together, and the same way that you told me you’d follow me, I’m going to follow you… for the rest of my life,” he said, pulling the ring from his pocket and dropping to his knee.

“Hailey Anne Upton, marry me,” he breathed out. It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t a command, it was a heartfelt plea that felt so natural falling from his lips. He watched as tears welled up in her eyes and a smile grew across her face. She stepped forward, cupping the sides of his face in her hands before nodding.

“I’ll marry you, Jay Halstead,” she affirmed as tears spilled out from her eyes. She kissed him hungrily, following his lips as they pulled back and tugged at hers. He stood, grabbing her up in his arms without breaking away, gently lifting her feet from the floor. Eventually, they pulled apart and she took in the sight of the ring for the first time. It was so perfect, and though she wasn’t much of a jewelry girl, she loved everything about it. Jay took it out of the box and slipped it onto her finger before wrapping her in his arms and twirling her around.

“Is this why you were working overtime so much?” she questioned, her glossy eyes continuing to spill out tears as he planted her back on her feet. He nodded.

“So you’re not actually doing modifications to your truck?” she questioned with a laugh, still trying to catch up to reality.

“No,” he laughed. “And this morning I never intended to go to the store. I was picking this up at the jeweler,” he laughed, playing with her hand that rested in his as he spoke.

“I’m sorry for lying. I never meant to hurt you, can you forgive me?” He questioned. She looked down at the ring on her finger and then back up at him.

“I guess,” she teased sarcastically, with a sly smile before rising on her tip toes and wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.

As Jay held her in his arms, he knew his brother was right. It was just the time, and he was surprisingly glad he didn’t have to wait until their anniversary. All of that overthinking would have never led to a moment more perfect than that one. Taking her back to that place he realized his love for her, a place that was so uniquely them wasn’t anything he could have planned without the spontaneity of that night. The ring was on her finger, and they were going to be each other’s forever, nothing could have been more perfect than that.

#upstead #jay x hailey #hailey x jay #jay halstead #hailey upton #chicago pd #upstead fic #justmypartner fics #collection of Em’s fics

[ybangtannies]

Hiiii I am new t the whole requesting thing so first for everything 🥰 So, here it goes A scenario for yandere namjoon where there’s lawyer y/n who’s hardworking and mature x businessman namjoon who is corrupt in his business ways 👉👈 I dunno if this is okay 🤡

Masterlist

Word count: 3.1k

“I don’t get it, why don’t we just throw them off and stop having them as our clients? This could end so bad for us, the whole law firm could be affected by their- his antics.”

“We have already talked about this,” your friend sighed not sparing you a look, eyes focused on her phone, “yes, it’s a well-known secret that Mr. Kim’s business is corrupt, and he surely doesn’t make the most legal negotiations but,” now she did look at you, her brown eyes showing the tiredness of having to have this conversation with you, again, “we don’t really have the liberty of saying no to him. A lot of tabloids would be up in no time if we decided to stop representing them which would lead to him surely making declarations against us and that wouldn’t surely end up being beneficial for us. We’re already a small firm, Mr. Kim being our client is a huge deal, most of our - including yours- income comes from his business.”

You sighed, about to reply that yes, you understand her point but maybe if you made public those documents that prove his corrupt ways, the whole scene could be different for the firm and you’d be able to turn the tables, but she beat you and added, “plus, he’s a whole snack, girl, why are you even complaining?”

Not even bothering to answer, you rolled your eyes and let out a groan, taking your cup of coffee and going back to your office. On your way there, you saw your boss, “Good morning, y/n,” he said with a smile, “please remember that Mr. Kim is coming later to discuss some things with you.”

The smile you previously had on your face faltered a little, surely you decided it was better to erase that from your mind and was hoping -in vain- that another thing would have come up so Namjoon couldn’t make it to the meeting. “Of course, Mr. Min, I already have prepared the files he asked me about and possible solutions.”

“Good, it’s wonderful to see how hard you work, y/n. Keep it like that, and you’ll make it big.” With that and another polite smile, Mr. Min walked away from you.

You sighed heavily and finally arrived at your office. It seems that these days the only thing you do is sigh and feel frustrated. Of course, you knew that being a lawyer in a firm meant that you won’t always be working for people you like but you didn’t think that it would entail working with a corrupt businessman without any chance of exposing him or just putting a halt to your contract with him. You knew the risks of doing that, of course, and that it would most likely mean you being fired alongside all your co-workers and put on a blacklist for all the other law firms to know that you weren’t trustworthy. However, that didn’t shake the guiltiness and rage you felt when thinking about how hard you have worked all your life to get where you are now just to risk it all for an asshole that was incompetent enough to do dangerous deals with people he shouldn’t.

You were wrong, though, Namjoon wasn’t an incompetent, quite the contrary actually. He was a very clever man indeed, knowing that having a law firm by his side would most likely help him cover his back in case something was to happen, especially if said firm is small and he is the main source of income.

“Mr. Kim is here” said the receptionist through the phone.

“Okay, send him up here.”

You collected your thoughts and breathed deep, praying you won’t snap at him like it had happened some other times before. It wasn’t just that you didn’t like the way he was managing his company but his personality and overall aura… you didn’t like it, not one bit. No matter how handsome and attractive he was.

A knock was heard in your office, followed by a voice “It’s Kim Namjoon, Mrs. y/s, may I come in?”

You arched your brow looking at him through the glass windows your office had, seeing his dimples showing because of the smile he had on his face.

“You may, Mr. Kim” you spoke in a monotonous voice, focusing again on the screen of your computer.

Namjoon’s smile turned to be more amused seeing your reaction, the one as always: trying your best not to look at him. He opened the door and walked in, closing it after him and taking a seat in a chair in front of your desk, not waiting for you to ask him to do it. You probably wouldn’t, anyways.

Of course, he knew the animosity you felt towards him and while at first that made him a little miserable and he almost lost his mind, with time he started finding it more amusing than anything and viewed it as a challenge to finally get on your good side. Naturally, the desire of taking you with him to keep you in his house was always at the back of his mind and he knew that sooner or later he would have to resort to that if he wanted you to be finally his, which of course he did. Until that moment, though, he would enjoy you being feisty towards him, it was amusing and kind of endearing seeing you struggling and fighting against yourself to not give in.

“How are you feeling on this beautiful day, Mrs. y/s?” Namjoon asked with a grin, if you didn’t know better, you’d think he’s actually interested in your answer.

He’s so hot, y/n! And the fact that he’s going against the law and with your help at that, only succeeds at making the situation even hotter.

That’s the message your friend sent you merely minutes ago, probably when she saw Namjoon was on his way to your office. Message you, of course, decided to ignore.

“It’s been good so far but I’m afraid that a big black cloud has just appeared to ruin it” you answered with a fake smile and felt pride at seeing how his smile faltered. You almost felt bad if it wasn’t for the fact that he was a criminal.

Namjoon cleared his throat, clearly ready to say one of the numerous flirty lines he’s been trying to use on you since the very beginning, but you were faster than him and asked about what it was that he needed help with this time.

“Ah, you see, there’s this huge deal I’m about to sign in two days so I thought that it would be a good idea for us both to go through the contract together and also, I wanted you to redact a confidential agreement.” You hated the way in which he said it, like if everything were okay, as if it was just a normal deal and there was nothing fishy about it. You also hated knowing that he could very much do this with his own men -it wouldn’t be the first time- but still decided to come here to torment you.

That was how time passed: you both going through the contract, making sure everything was in order -or as in order as it could considering there were definitely some fishy things that needed to be disguised or be described in a very vaguely-, you trying to dodge every attempt from Namjoon part at flirting with you and him finding it both amusing and adorable.

You danced in your interior once everything was done and it was finally time for him to leave, looking into your watch you realised it was almost time for you to go home as well and mentally sighed in relief. You got over another day.

“If that was all, Mr. Kim, you’re free to go now,” you said with a tired smile that Namjoon noticed didn’t reach your eyes. He so desperately wanted to make you smile for real, be the one on the receiving end of the cheerfulness he knew you had in you; he’d make sure he was the only one getting it one day. “I’ll send you the confidential agreement tomorrow before lunchtime so you can go through it in case there is something else that needs to be changed for the day of the signing.”

“Just one more thing, miss” he said, getting up from the chair he occupied for almost two hours in your office, “I think it’ll be better if you came to me with the agreement in person instead of just sending it to me.” Namjoon saw the protest and confusion on your face and before you could give him a negative, he talked again “there had been several attempts these past few weeks at hacking my accounts as well as the one of my other employers so I’d prefer it if the agreement could me better in my hands rather than on my email. We’re working on it, but until I’m sure there would be no possibility for a cyber-attack...an ounce of prevention is better than a pound of cure”

As much as you wanted to say, ‘fuck no, not in a million years I’m going to see you more than was needed’, you obviously couldn’t, and there was no good reason for you to deny his request.

“Sure, I understand it. I’ll be there tomorrow.” Your answer came more tense than you wanted to, but you wanted Namjoon to know of your discomfort at the premise of having to spend more time with him.

“I’ll send a car for you, darling, there’s no need for you to go anywhere.”

With that and a wink, Namjoon abandoned your office, leaving you there hanging, you wanted to refute that there is no need for him to send a car for you, that you can very happily go on your own and have a car that works very well but, of course, he always has to have the last words. You rolled your eyes and groaned, touching the bridge of your nose. Tomorrow was going to be a very long day.

As Namjoon said, a car was sent your way to the law firm you worked at to take you to his office, or at least that was where you supposed you were going to meet him. But upon seeing the car taking a completely different direction from where it should go, your uneasiness started growing.

“Excuse me,” you called for the attention of the chauffeur, “aren’t we going to Mr. Kim’s office?”

“No, Ms. y/s, I was told to take you to Mr. Kim’s place of residence.”

That fucker, you muttered under your breath. Once you arrived, you couldn’t help but gawk at Namjoon’s place of residence. You were expecting it to be huge and over the top, that’s the kind of house that Namjoon required to have considering the way he carried himself, but this was something else. A whole family could live here, and they wouldn’t even have to see each other if they didn’t want to -and you were referring to a family of grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, parents, and kids.

The chauffeur opened the door of the car for you and was the one leading the way into Namjoon’s mansion as well. The interior was even more dazzling if that was possible: it was decorated in a minimalistic and modern way but there was a hint of old fashioned in some of the furniture. It was exquisite. You were guided all through the mansion until you arrived at the front of two huge mahogany doors, the chauffeur -you felt bad you didn’t ask for his name, he seemed nice- knocked on one of them and from the other side you could hear Namjoon’s voice ordering whoever was at the other side to come in, immediately he opened the door and made you a gesture with his hands for you to go in. You nodded your head and muttered a ‘thank you’ before entering the room. The door closed right behind you.

Namjoon looked up from his computer and a smile quickly found its way to his face upon seeing you right there in the middle of his office. He got up from his chair and moved around his massive table. “Y/n, it’s a pleasure to see you, please come and take a seat,” you did as tell and came near him, smiling slightly when Namjoon moved the chair so you could sit, “I apologize for the inconvenience I may have caused you with coming all the way here, some problems came up this morning and I wasn’t able to make it to my building.”

“Is everything okay, Mr. Kim?” You asked more out of courtesy than because you were actually concerned or interested in what his answer would be.

“Nothing you have to worry about, darling,” the paternalistic tone he used made you almost roll your eyes even if you were secretly grateful, he didn’t bother you with the problems of his corrupt business, “since it’s almost lunchtime, I asked my service to bring us the meal here later so we can eat together.”

“There was no need for that, Mr. Kim, I won’t be here much, you’re just required to go through the agreement and then I’ll be on my way to work again.”

Namjoon only hummed and went back to his chair in front of you. Without any further distractions you both proceeded to went through the document and, right as you stated, it didn’t take much time and since Namjoon didn’t really have any objections, you wrapped it up in no more than an hour but, much to your dismay, by that time the food has already been brought up to his office and you didn’t have it in you to deny it when it looked and smelled as delicious as it did.

“Please, try it,” Namjoon encouraged you, both of you have moved to one of the sofas on his office, and he took advantage of it and was now right next to you, “I didn’t know what you enjoy, so tell me if you don’t like this and I’ll ask for the chefs to make you something different.”

Now, that was a lie, Namjoon already knew everything there was to know about you, having made an exhaustive study of your life himself two days after seeing you for the first time; he knew the name of all your relatives, how many times you’d moved, the college you attended, the marks you got, hell, he even knew the name of all your ex-boyfriends and friends that were no longer in your life. You were fascinating to him, and he couldn't wait until he could uncover every single secret you kept to yourself.

“This looks amazing, I’m sure it’ll taste just the same” you said almost salivating, it’s been a long time since you last ate a proper home cooked meal. You could feel the intense gaze of Namjoon on you while you took the fork on your mouth and swallowed the food, you couldn’t help but make a sound of satisfaction at the taste and it was only in that moment that he averted his eyes from you at the sight, clearing his throat and taking a sip of the wine that was brought alongside the meal. “This is amazing! Thank you so much, Namjoon.”

You didn’t even notice you called him by his name or the real smile that was on your face and directed at him. But he did, and he could feel his heart galloping in his chest like crazy, feeling already addicted to hearing his name rolling on your tone without an annoyed tone to it and being on the receiving end of your more than beautiful smile.

You both kept eating and eventually started talking about everything and anything. It surprised you how you found yourself having a good time and enjoying Namjoon’s company more than what you thought you’d ever do. He was still an asshole in your eyes, and you didn’t like not one bit the way he made business, but you couldn’t deny that he gave you an interesting conversation and was funny even when he wasn’t trying to. Eventually though, you started to feel more and more dizzy, and a migraine was starting to form in your head.

“Is everything okay, darling? You’re getting paler by the second” you heard Namjoon voiced next to you, he sounded concerned and was closer to you than a minute before, one of his hands almost resting on your knee.

“Yeah...no, do you happen to have any pills? My head is starting to kill me…” your voice sounded estranged even to yourself and the strength was quickly leaving your body.

Before you could try to fight it, darkness consumed your every sense and the last thing you could feel or hear was Namjoon’s body pressed against yours and his smooth voice calling your name.

After twenty minutes or so, Namjoon finally decided that it was time to lead you to his room and rest your body on his bed. He’s been admiring your face, being this the first time, he has had the chance to do it from such a close distance, delighting himself in how perfect your body felt pressed to his and how from this day on, he’d be able to feel this way for the rest of his life.

He closed the door from his bedroom and locked it just in case, though he doubted you’ll wake up until tomorrow. On his way to the door, he made a call.

“What’s up, Namjoon?”

“I’m going there now, Yoongi. She’s already in my bed resting.”

Nothing more needed to be exchanged between the two men and Namjoon hung up right when he got into his car. Yoongi and Namjoon have been friends since they were both teenagers, having gone through a lot together. When Namjoon received an email with several photos of you he hadn’t order to take and a simple message saying, ‘we are keeping an eye on her too’, he knew he had to do something to keep you safe and it was actually Yoongi’s idea to lead you to Namjoon’s house, drug you and keep you there finally with him. They still had to figure out who the fuck had guessed Namjoon favoured you, but now that you were going to be safe by his side, he couldn’t help but smile silly all the way up to Yoongi’s building.

He knew he had a long way ahead of him until you fell in love with the same intensity, he had fallen for you, but he was sure you’d both get there and be the perfect couple he’d been dreaming of for so long.

#yandere namjoon #yandere bts #yandere jin #yandere yoongi #yandere jimin #yandere hoseok #yandere taehyung #yandere jungkook #yandere suga #yandere jhope #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere au

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

3rd life, Tango and Impulse are the last two standing?

this was the first 3rd Life request i received and oh boy have i wanted to work on it for so long. apologies for the older ones i havent touched yet; i’m getting to them! i’m just in more of a 3rd Life mood atm :)

...

  Etho drowned

  Impulse stares at the death message on his communicator with wide eyes. “Oh my gosh,” he whispers hoarsely. “He did it… Tango got him…”

  He checks the tab list. Etho is gone. Only two red names stare back at him: his own and Tango’s. The endgame he’s been avoiding for weeks is finally here. 

  Impulse continues trading with his villagers, though there doesn’t seem to be much point anymore. Tango is undoubtedly on his way here right now, and he’ll probably want to end things right here and now. There’s only two people left, both on red. One more death will end the game, no matter who dies. 

  He finds himself hoping that Tango will fall into a ravine or get exploded by a creeper before he even makes it here. But he knows it won’t happen. There’s only two ways this could end, and neither of them are very appealing to him. 

  All too soon, he hears the familiar voice of his best friend call his name. Wincing briefly, he turns and finds Tango standing in the entrance to his villager trading hall. “Hi, Tango.”

  “You saw in chat, right?” Tango’s red eyes are glowing bright, as is the red heart on his neck. “I got him. My trap worked!” 

  Impulse nods. “I saw. Heck of a way to kill your close friend.”

  “Yeah, well, he would’ve killed me with no hesitation, so I did what I had to do to survive.”

  “You’ve done a lot of things like that,” Impulse remarks carefully. “Remind me again who you’ve killed?”

  “Grian, Bdubs, Scott, Jimmy, Ren, and now Etho,” says Tango gleefully. “Etho’s my first red lifer, though. Gotta say, there’s a hell of a rush in taking someone’s last life and knowing they won’t be able to come back and confront you.”

  Impulse slowly shakes his head. “That’s a really… cold thing to say. Remember, we don’t know exactly what happens when we lose our last life. It’s likely we just appear back on our normal servers, but Grian said he didn’t even know that for certain.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Tango rolls his eyes. “Whatcha up to?”

  “Getting some books to enchant my stuff so you’ll have a harder time killing me,” Impulse wants to say. Instead, he opts for the safe answer and says, “Just some trading. You… want some emeralds?”

  “Nah, I don’t need to trade right now.”

  The two fall silent for a moment.

  “So I guess we should address the elephant in the room,” says Impulse slowly. “We’re the only ones left. The last two standing.”

  “Uh huh.” Tango’s eyes are still worryingly sparkling red. “We are. And don’t think I’m stupid, Impy. I know about the traps you put around your base. Plus the ones in Renchanting and the desert.”

  “I didn’t put those there.”

  “Whatever. Point is: I know where all the traps are. So don’t think you’re gonna get the drop on me. And when it comes to PvP, I’m stronger.”

  “Are you trying to tell me to just lay down and accept my death?” Impulse demands.

  “Hell no. Don’t do that! That’d be the worst way to end this whole thing.” Tango pauses a moment. “Who’ve you killed, again?”

  “I… I killed Joel and Cleo.”

  “And?” prompts Tango pointedly. 

  Impulse winces. “And… you. I took your second life.”

  “Yes, yes you did. And I’m not gonna let you take another.”

  “I don’t want to do that, Tango. I may be a red lifer but I don’t want to hurt you again.”

  “Too bad,” Tango says coldly. “This is the moment I’ve been waiting months and months for. Two people left. I’ve done too much and fought too hard to delay my victory any longer. Come to the village with your best armour and your best sword, and if you’re not there in five minutes, I’ll hunt you down and kill you without mercy. Got it?”

  Impulse can hardly hold back a shiver at the viciousness in his best friend’s voice. “G-Got it.”

  “Good.”

  Impulse watches Tango leave, before letting out a deep breath. He can’t deny he’s terrified; this is the final confrontation. Either he or Tango won’t make it out alive. And he has a suspicion as to which one will lose their last life first. As blunt as Tango had been, he’s right. Tango knows where all the traps are, he’s better at PvP than Impulse, and he has the fortune to have known Impulse long enough to be able to reliably anticipate any tricks he could come up with. 

  Impulse hardly stands a chance.

  After assembling his best armour under the circumstances, Impulse takes his enchanted diamond sword and heads out into the village. He can already see Tango sitting atop one of the houses, legs dangling over the side. Tango’s armour is iron but enchanted, whereas Impulse’s is diamond and unenchanted. He doesn’t know which will be better in this scenario but he’s leaning towards the enchanted armour. 

  Tango spots him approaching and jumps down from the house, swinging his own enchanted diamond sword. “Sorry it has to be this way, Impulse. I hope you know that however this finishes, you’ll always be my best friend.”

  Somehow, I don’t think you’ll be very happy with me if I’m the one who somehow wins after all this, Impulse thinks. 

  Aloud, he says, “I’m sorry too.”

  A brief pause follows his words.

  Then Tango charges forward and the fight begins.

  Impulse blocks Tango’s first two blows, but the third glances off his armour. This completely throws him off and Tango lands a few more hits on his armour. 

  Losing his nerve, Impulse scrambles backwards and takes off running, hoping to give himself time to think of something.

  “Hey!” Tango yells. “What are you doing?! Get back here!”

  Impulse sprints as fast as he can towards Bdubs and Cleo’s abandoned castle. Without slowing, he jumps on the ruined planks of the drawbridge and makes it across to the other side. When he dares to look back, he notices Tango skidding to a halt on the other side of the moat. 

  Impulse involuntarily nods to himself. Tango hates parkour, even simple ones. 

  After taking a moment to compose himself, Impulse turns and spots Tango halfway across the bridge, jumping steadily from one plank to another. Panicking, Impulse jumps on the pressure plate in the centre of the room, before bolting for the stairs.

  Tango has just reached the entrance when he hears the telltale hissing noise and he curses. He doesn’t have enough time to follow Impulse to the stairs and he knows it, so all he can do is dive back across the drawbridge. 

  The TNT goes off a second later, sending Tango flying onto the bank. It’s been placed in such a strategic way that it only destroys the lower floor; the second floor, which Impulse has managed to reach, is entirely untouched. 

  He grabs a spare bow and some arrows, and fires a few out the slit window at Tango, who is struck in the leg by one and has to retreat to avoid getting hit by the others.

  Impulse takes a deep breath. This is a good position; he has the high ground, as it were. He has the advantage right now. 

  Unfortunately, that advantage becomes a lot less palpable when he realises his meagre arrow stock has run out. 

  Through the split window, he spots Tango running back across over the drawbridge, clearly realising that Impulse is out of ammunition. His leg is bleeding from where he’s pulled the arrow out but he doesn’t seem to care right now. 

  Impulse rushes for the second set of stairs and bursts out onto the top of the castle. Over the ramparts, he can see the long abandoned village he used to call home and he’s briefly gripped with a deep sense of sadness and nostalgia. 

  A few seconds later, he hears footsteps behind him and whirls round to find Tango charging towards him. With only a split second warning, Impulse ducks under his outstretched arm and rushes for the stairs again, but Tango sweeps his legs out from under him. Impulse lets out a cry of pain as he lands heavily on his wrist.

  “NO!” Tango yells, standing over him with his sword, forcing him to roll over and look him in the eye. “You’re not running away again! I’ve waited TOO long for this; now fight me!”

  Impulse responds by kicking Tango hard in his already injured leg, before rolling to his feet and taking advantage of Tango’s distracted state to shove him away. 

  Tango stumbles back, his mind fuzzy from the pain. His diamond sword dangles in his grasp. His chest heaves as he gasps for breath.

  “Tango…” Impulse straightens up, a sympathetic look on his face. “Please. We don’t have to resolve it this way. Let’s just live together in this world until one of us dies naturally. There’s no reason for us to murder each other just to win this stupid game.”

  “No,” growls Tango softly. “You’ve no idea what I’ve sacrificed to get here. If somehow we do go back to Hermitcraft after we die in this goddamn world, do you think anyone’s still gonna wanna be friends with me?”

  “Then why burn all your bridges like that?” Impulse demands. “3rd Life is temporary but we’ll be on Hermitcraft for decades to come. Why throw it all away?”

  “Y-You don’t understand. I have to win this. Th-There’s no other way to end this.”

  Impulse carefully steps towards his best friend. “Tango. Plea-.” 

  “I SAID NO!”

  Tango charges at Impulse, who intercepts him and throws him away from him.

  What he hasn’t noticed is how close he is to the edge of the parapet. 

  Tango manages to catch Impulse’s wrist, pulling him to the ground, but the shock of the landing releases Tango’s grip on him. 

  Impulse gasps as he realises that his friend has disappeared over the side of the parapet. He hardly dares look, but his communicator going off only confirms what he already knows to be true. 

Tango fell from a high place.

  Tango is gone. 

  Impulse has won. 

  He struggles to a sitting position, wincing at the pain in his arm. It’s over. It’s really over.

  After all this time, all these deaths, he’s the last one standing. The “winner”, if you could even call him that. He’s done so much to survive: things he’s ashamed of, things that will stay with him for the rest of his life. The things he’s witnessed will also haunt him; the deaths of everyone around him, including his best friends, as he’s unable to do anything about it.

  After what feels like hours, he discards his armour and steps up onto the parapet, the breeze ruffling his t-shirt and shorts. At the bottom, he can almost picture Tango’s body, broken on the hard ground below him. He doesn’t know if his death will take him back to Hermitcraft, back to Tango, but anything is better than staying here alone in this world, void of happiness and life. 

  “I’m coming home, Tango,” he murmurs. 

  With that, he lets himself fall.

#3rdlifesmp #3rd life smp #impulsesv #tangotek #vaunna’s requests

[alittlebitmaybe]

i’ll stay warm

for @sugar-and-spice-witcher-bingo​!

Prompt: ice skating

Relationship: Geraskier

Rating: G (with very mild language and a tiny bit of blood)

Warnings: None

Other Tags: Fluff, Companionable Snark, Already Dating But Too Dumb To Notice, First Kiss

“Let me get this straight,” Geralt says.

Jaskier waves him on.

“You’re going to tie those—,” he gestures to the slim planks of iron on Jaskier’s kitchen table that have leather cords threaded through holes bored into either end, “—to your shoes, and you’re going to go down to the river and stand on it.”

Jaskier, unperturbed, says brightly, “Uh-huh!”

Read more on ao3 or below the cut!

“Let me get this straight,” Geralt says.

Jaskier waves him on.

“You’re going to tie those—,” he gestures to the slim planks of iron on Jaskier’s kitchen table that have leather cords threaded through holes bored into either end, “—to your shoes, and you’re going to go down to the river and stand on it.”

Jaskier, unperturbed, says brightly, “Uh-huh!”

Geralt says, “Why?”

“Because Priscilla asked me along, and it’s good fun, and you can do all sorts of loop-de-loops and swirlies and spinnies and whozits and, uh, whatzits. I dunno, Pris knows all the tricks, I never got the hang of it. But, Geralt, people have been doing this in Oxenfurt for years. It’s the only way fashionable and exciting persons such as I pass the winter these days, gliding as an angel over the ice, cheeks chapped fetchingly pink, you know, it’s all very attractive, one may say winsome—”

“That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” Geralt crosses his arms over his chest as he leans back in the small chair and tucks his shoulders in. He takes up too much space in Jaskier’s quarters, and already he rues the day he agreed, in a fit of insanity, to pass the season in the city instead of trekking up to Kaer Morhen as usual. “You’re going to die.”

Jaskier hacks a laugh into his steaming mug and nearly spills tea all down his robed front.

“Nonsense!” he cries, once he has recovered himself. “We go every year once the freeze is hard enough, me and Pris and all my many other dazzling friends, which I absolutely have.”

“And if Priscilla told you it was fashionably good fun to walk yourself off a cliff…”

“I’d do it, obviously,” says Jaskier, not missing a beat. “Haven’t you ever had to cross a frozen river on your travels, Witcher? How’d you go about it then, if not on skates?”

Geralt levels him an incredulous look. “How would I get a horse across a frozen river?” he asks, and Jaskier frowns in thought as he takes another sip.

“I mean, you could just—,” he mimes pushing outward with one palm, “—give ‘er a good shove and see how far she gets.”

“Could give you a good shove. Bet you wouldn’t make it far.”

“I’ll have you know, I have the grace of a, a, er…elk? Are elk graceful?”

Geralt nods and says seriously, “Especially the newborns.”

“There you have it. Graceful as a tiny baby elk with those on my feet, I am.”

“Maybe you should wear them all the time.”

“What good would that…” he starts, and then comes, “Hey. Rude. Remind me why I wanted you here?”

Geralt grins and shrugs. His own mug is on the small table, and he sniffs the steam coming off of it. Floral. He takes a sip. Carefully does not spit it back out. Sets the mug back down farther away.

When he has successfully resisted the urge to spit on the floor to clear out his mouth and looks back up, Jaskier is still holding his own mug gently in the curl of his long fingers, and a lock of rumpled hair has fallen into his eyes. His robe hangs open at his collarbone, down the line of his chest. He wears a strange expression that lies between the exasperation Geralt expected and something startlingly softer.

“So you’ll come with us,” he states.

“Someone has to take your body back to your mother when you break your neck,” Geralt says.

Jaskier rolls his eyes. “You jest, but Mum would be thrilled to see you. Likes you better than me, I think. Her only son! But you’ll come, eh?”

Geralt ducks his head quickly to hide the smile creeping across his face, grabbing his boots and yanking at the laces before acquiescing, “Yeah, I’ll come.”

“There now,” Jaskier says, appeased, “that wasn’t so hard, was it.” He knocks back the dregs of his tea, then stands and pads to the sink, talking on. “You should’ve known I wouldn’t let you stay cooped up in here all winter. I’ll have to see if I can dig out my spare pair of skates, they’re older—animal bone, not iron—but they might be big enough for your witcher feet, and it really works just as well. Or maybe Pris knows someone…I even heard they’re renting the things out down at the river now. Industrious, isn’t it, the ways people come up with to make some coin?…”

Geralt half-listens as he ties neat knots, lost somewhere in the midst of mulling over what Jaskier has described, trying to give it the benefit of the doubt despite its obvious frivolity. Based on the day’s weather it will be a clear night with a brisk breeze, a bright moon. The wind chill will have them each bundled up in furs, and the tip of Jaskier’s nose will go pink as he rubs his gloved hands together for warmth and glances happily over at Geralt. The river ice will be torchlit and smooth as glass, and they’ll strap on their skates and step out onto it. They’ll have a good hold on each others arms, for balance, but then as they gain their footing they’ll find their fingers threaded together and neither will let go. Geralt will listen to the quickened beat of Jaskier’s heart as they pick up the pace, and eventually Jaskier will break their hold to skate backward and taunt Geralt with a small twirl that ends only a little unsteadily. Geralt will smirk and give chase, chuckling when Jaskier squawks and takes off at speed. It’s no use, of course, even with Geralt’s inexperience; Geralt will anticipate his movements, head him off, catch him by the wrist, by the shoulder, and they will collide chest to chest with a huff, the momentum from the chase sliding them a few more feet across the ice before they come to a halt. Their cold noses will almost be touching, there will be frost on the riverbank, there will be a distant owl hooting its nighttime song. Jaskier will quirk his lips and say, “Gotcha, Witcher,” and Geralt will lean in, feel his hot breath, press their lips together—

“Geralt,” Jaskier says, tapping him on the shoulder. A hand waves in front of his face. Geralt keeps his expression carefully neutral as he comes out of his sudden reverie, though he’s been caught red handed. “Are you meditating? We’ve got to be off to the market. Have you even been listening to me?”

“Never,” says Geralt, and Jaskier scoffs and whacks him gently upside the head.

*

The riverbank smells like dead fish.

Geralt knew this. He doesn’t know what he expected. He doesn’t know where the pine-scented idyllic winter wonderland from his earlier distraction even came from, because it couldn’t be farther from reality.

Besides the fish stink, his boots squish and stick unpleasantly in the muddy ground, and the place is teeming with cityfolk, the crowd so thick that you can’t see the opposite bank even despite the abundant torchlight.

“Are you sure it’s frozen solid enough for this?” Geralt asks sourly.

“Of course,” Jaskier replies.

Geralt’s frown deepens. “Couldn’t we go around the bend where there’s not so many people?”

“And where’s the fun in that?”

“Breathing room.”

“I asked about the fun, Geralt. Ah, there’s my girl!”

Priscilla pushes through a group of loitering teenagers and throws her arms around Jaskier’s neck, only her toes left on the mud. “Jask! I see you got your…friend to join us.”

She pauses before friend, eyeing him overtly, but Geralt doesn’t notice because one of the teenagers has been shoved, giggling, into him by another of the group. He steadies her, and does not react when she turns to apologize, catches his unnatural gaze, and stifles her laughter. He doesn’t see Jaskier watching him past Priscilla’s ear, the fond crinkling around his eyes when Geralt gently straightens her and returns her to her place in the circle, which subsequently puts a few feet between itself and the newly-noticed witcher.

“It was either this or die of boredom in the dark, wasn’t it, Geralt?” Jaskier says finally as he releases Priscilla.

“I chose the dark,” Geralt lies, and Jaskier sticks out his tongue.

“Well,” Priscilla says, straightening her skirts, “shall we?”

Geralt pulls both sets of skates from his deep cloak pockets and passes the iron pair to Jaskier, who hops around indelicately while securing them over his boots, rather than plop himself on the soft ground—which is, of course, what Geralt does to put on his own. Priscilla and Jaskier waste a few minutes on a tiff over whether it is polite or belittling for Jaskier to insist on helping her with her own skates whether she wants it or not, but eventually they are all ready to go.

Geralt is the first to the ice. He tests the toe of his bone skate against it, judging the friction of it, deciding if it is likely to hold his weight even with the evidence of the dozens of people currently gliding and spinning past him. It seems stable. Stepping out, he finds it surprisingly easy to get a feel for balance, the minute shifts of weight that send him one direction or the other. He swings himself wide and turns around to see Priscilla and Jaskier also stepping out onto the river, Jaskier clutching tightly to Priscilla’s sleeve, face white and eyes trained on his feet.

“It’s okay, darling, you’ve got this. You made such good progress last time, come on now,” Geralt can hear Priscilla murmuring under the loud chatter of nearby skaters.

When Jaskier sees Geralt watching them, he bodily removes Priscilla’s hands from his person and says, “Please, Pris, I’m a capable man.”

She bristles immediately, leaving him to stand on his own. “And I wasn’t a capable woman when I was putting on my skates?”

Jaskier ignores her to begin shuffling awkwardly across the ice, his knees locked straight.

“Jaskier?” Geralt says apprehensively.

“Doing peachy, thanks, it’ll come back to me, just need to recall how to, um—oh no—” Jaskier starts with a strained voice before he promptly stops, because he has begun to slide inexorably forward. Priscilla and Geralt both reach toward him, but they’re too late; Jaskier’s arms wheel wildly, he tilts on wobbly ankles, and he faceplants onto the ice.

“Ow,” squeaks the Jaskier-shaped lump.

*

“I think your nose is broken,” says Geralt. He dabs at the blood on Jaskier’s top lip with the edge of his own cloak. They are safely back on the bank, and Jaskier is, this time, sitting in the mud. “I guess you were right,” he goes on wryly. “You’re exactly as graceful as a baby elk.”

“I knew you were making fun of me,” Jaskier says thickly, due to the nose injury. “I also knew you’d be a natural. Bastard. I could never get the hang of this stupid bullshit.”

Geralt hums and wipes off the last of the blood. At least it’s clotted quickly. Maybe it’s not a break.

“You didn’t need to lie about your abilities. Who are you trying to impress?”

Jaskier snorts, then winces in pain. His fingers twist in his lap. “Oh, that’s funny.”

Now, Geralt is often joking, but he’s fairly certain that that wasn’t one. Did Jaskier also hit his head? He pushes back Jaskier’s fringe to check his forehead for signs of bruising and doesn’t find any. “Um,” he says, “what is?”

Priscilla skates past holding hands with a woman that Geralt thinks she met approximately three minutes ago. She calls, “All right, Jask?” and in reply, Jaskier gives her a bitter thumbs up. She winks and swoops away as quickly as she came.

“Because I was trying to impress you, obviously,” he answers, gazing after her, before he turns his eyes back to Geralt.

Geralt pauses. “Why?”

“Because I’m actually always trying to impress you. And everyone else, constantly, but…mostly you.”

“You don’t do a very good job of it,” he says, and regrets it when he hears how it sounds coming out of his mouth.

Jaskier smiles. It’s genuine, if a little wistful, like Geralt has amused but not surprised him. “I am well aware, thanks.”

He reaches for the words that will take that edge of resignation off Jaskier’s face, feeling like a fumbling fool. “That’s not what I meant. I meant you don’t need to try to impress me.”

“Yes, I know it doesn’t matter, but I can’t help—”

“No,” Geralt interrupts, “I mean you don’t need to try because you do.” He clears his throat. “Impress me.”

“Oh,” says Jaskier, and then nothing more. “That’s. Okay.”

“Yeah,” says Geralt. He has never been so exposed in his life. He thinks that’s probably a bad thing. “How’s your nose? We could try again, if you want.”

Jaskier looks around at the laughing crowds and shrugs. “Came all this way, got all bundled up. Might as well! I’m sticking with you this time, though.”

They find a spot at the farthest reach of the torchlight where the ice is less populated to step out. Geralt goes first, as before, and finds his footing even faster this time. He returns to Jaskier’s side after a moment of testing the reliability of his newfound skills, and presents his forearm as a handhold.  Jaskier does not protest about his capability this time and takes the offering. With a long preparatory exhale, he puts one foot and then the other onto the ice.

“I’ve got you,” Geralt says quietly.

Jaskier replies, “I know you do.”

“Can’t let more harm come to the money maker. I’ve gotten used to staying in inns.”

“Good gods,” says Jaskier, “I’ve broken him.”

They gradually move farther from the bank. “Loosen up,” Geralt tells him. “Don’t lock your knees. It’s like you’re trying to fall over.”

Jaskier grumbles but takes the advice, and eventually he gains the confidence to move a little faster, though not to stop hanging on to Geralt. They stay on the fringes where they are less likely to be run into by a distracted stranger, gliding along at pace, with Jaskier remarking on the who’s-who of Oxenfurt society who are also out tonight. Geralt recognizes some of the more powerful names, but mostly he lets Jaskier chatter on so he doesn’t think too hard about his feet.

Priscilla passes by and greets them a few more times with her new companion, who at one point proclaims, “You two are so cute together!” before Priscilla drags her back into the mob. Geralt glances over and thinks Jaskier might be blushing, but that might also be due to the swelling around his nose.

“Should ice your face,” says Geralt.

“Sure, later. Hey!” He swings around to face Geralt, stopping their progress. “Spin me!” At Geralt’s no doubt dubious expression, he pouts. “Geralt, I demand to be spun. It’ll be fun!”

“Fine,” Geralt sighs.

He takes Jaskier’s hand, and has a flash of his daydream. There’s too many people, and it does still smell like fish, but this isn’t too far off—

He collects himself, holds their joined hands over Jaskier’s head, and gives him a little push to start him spinning, not too quick, but Jaskier takes it upon himself to propel himself a little faster. Jaskier laughs and maintains his balance remarkably well, until he exclaims “Oops—dizzy—!” and topples directly into Geralt, succeeding in knocking them both down, Geralt on his own back, Jaskier flat on his chest.

Geralt, trapped between the frigid ice and Jaskier’s weight, looks up as Jaskier starts to laugh. The steam of his breath hits Geralt’s cheek, and his knitted hat has gone askew, and his nose is turning purple, and Geralt puts his hand around the back of Jaskier’s neck and pulls him down and kisses him.

Jaskier leans away. “What?” he asks, eyes wide, then continues, “oh, who cares,” and leans back down.

*

Later, with an ice pack pressed to Jaskier’s face and two more hot mugs at the kitchen table, Geralt watches Jaskier rummage through his cupboards. He comes back with two packets, one matching the floral tea from earlier and a different one. He hands the latter to Geralt.

“Black tea,” he says, “for you. Noticed you didn’t like my herbal stuff. I don’t either, to be honest, but I already spent the coin on it.”

“Thanks,” Geralt replies, oddly touched.

As Jaskier passes Geralt to take his seat, he leans down and pecks him on the cheek. Smiling faintly beneath the ice pack, he says, “You know, Witcher, I’m glad you’re here and not up in some weird lonely castle,” and Geralt finds that he is, too.

#my fic #the witcher #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geraskier fic #it's fluff time friends!

[shoichee]

Hello and congrats on the 100 milestone! Can you do prompt #19 for Midorima? 😁

MAN OH MAN IT’S BEEN A LONG TIME BUT I’M FINALLY BACK, TSYM for being here since the beginning, i rlly rlly appreciate it <333 so HERES SOME FLUFF

Midorima x Reader

19. “I think I’m in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me”

Word Count: 3349

prompt list here

»»—————　☼　—————««

“Seriously, are you sure you’re not secretly related to Shin-chan?” Takao shoves another helping of rice into his mouth and you instantly frown at his messy eating habits.

“Takao, it doesn’t hurt to wipe the grains off your cheeks with napkins that the cafeteria always abundantly provides,” you say, not once taking your eyes off of the study guide you compiled for the class final. “And please don’t talk with your mouth open.” You can easily sense Takao groaning before slapping his eyes while leaning back in frustration, but you still carried on in skimming your notes instead.

“And that’s exactly why Shin-chan doesn’t know how to approach you,” he petulantly mumbles. You spared a glance above your packets, not catching his inaudible words.

“Pardon?”

“Never mind,” Takao sighs, settling to childishly stabbing the shrimp tempuras with his chopsticks and popping them into his mouth. “You werdn’t gert it.”

“What did I just say about your eating manners?” You roll your eyes, choosing to brush off his words as you continue to devote your attention to your papers. Takao simply opts to noisily munch on the rest of his lunch while being deep in thought, letting you study in some relative peace. He then gets up, tosses his trash away, and plops back down on his seat, and he props up his chin on his arm, watching you completely engrossed in your own world and figuring out how to exactly figure out his next best course of action.

“Y’know what? Screw this, I’m not getting paid to be a wingman for two difficult people,” he dramatically sighs, purposely trying to get your attention, and it worked. “You might wanna start paying attention to poor Shin-chan before he over thinks himself to death.” Takao does an exaggerated shrug and a shake of his head to emphasize the “seriousness” of the situation. You merely frown.

“You never cease to amaze me with your convoluted words. If you want something from me, just spit it out already.” You reluctantly let down your papers to give him your undivided attention, and Takao leans closer, dropping his voice to a hush.

“Look, I know you see him in a different light from the others,” he whispers conspiringly. “And he does too.” He makes pointer-finger motions in front of him to represent “you” and “Midorima.”

“... This again?” You pinch your nose bridge and release a harsh sigh, but you nonetheless let Takao continue.

“Come on, would it really hurt to do a confession? For someone so blunt and straightforward, you’re really dragging this out for way too long.” Takao frowns at your deadpan expression but continues his little movements with his makeshift “finger puppets.” “Once you”—he takes his left index finger—“and Shin-chan”—he brings his right index closer to his left—“do the chu”— he brings his index fingers together to imply the situation—“I can finally be free from the clutches of Shi—”

“I already told you,” you smoothly interrupt, “that we don’t see each other that way. He’s been a reliable partner in class projects and a very helpful person to share notes with. I’m very certain it’s like that on his end with me too.”

“Why do you sound so disappointed when you say it like that?” Takao slowly grows a shit-eating (yet hopeful) smirk. You scowl at his implications. Takao amusedly notes that you’re way too similar to his best friend.

“There’s no chance that we’ll ever get to that stage… ever. Okay? Satisfied now?”

“So you are disappointed at the possible outcome,” Takao gleefully says, his face showing all signs of plans being concocted in his mind. You completely widen your eyes at your simple slip-up.

“I… it’s not a possible outcome, damn it,” you vehemently insist. “It’s a guarantee.”

“Puh-lease (y/n)-chan, how do you know unless you try it?”

“Alright Takao,” you dryly reply. “Why don’t you try staring directly at the sun first before confirming that you become blind from that?”

“That’s not the same!”

“Same logic,” you huff. “Look, you know Midorima-san more than anyone, and even you know how he thinks. He finds the concept of friends and teammates to be pretty unnecessary, and frankly I can empathize with him. If he finds camaraderie to be a hassle already, dating is already beyond off the table. It takes much more to be a genuine friend to him than your average person, and if I do, by chance, confess, I’d be throwing away everything that I built up with him like an idiot… just being like this with him is more than enough for me. Besides, a relationship isn’t important right now, not when class takes up most of the time.”

“Well, normally yes, but in this specific case, there’s an excep—”

“I already came clean with this,” you say, furrowing your brows. “So can you finally let me study for this class in peace? Obviously, it’s a given for you not to open your mouth to anyone else about this.” With that, you tune out any further noise and burrow yourself into your class materials, and Takao could only sigh as he tries to wrack his brain for another way to play wingman.

“... Seriously, they’re both so stubborn.”

———

“(y/n)-san.”

“Hm?”

You turn around from looking at the bulletin to the person who just addressed you. Midorima stares down at you quite seriously before he promptly clears his throat.

“You’re blocking the way, nanodayo.”

“Ah… I apologize,” you say, immediately stepping closer to the bulletin to clear up the hallway. You turn your face to appear fixated on the bulletin board, but still sensing Midorima staring at you, you reluctantly peek at him from your peripheral vision. “... Is there something else you need, Midorima-san?” Midorima looks at the bulletin board for a moment before he turns back to your face.

“Regarding the group project we were paired to do in chemistry,” he starts, “the teacher praised our work very highly and wants to know if he can use it as an example for future lectures. I’m here to hear your answer on his behalf.”

You mentally sigh from the secretive disappointment. Of course Midorima was here for straightforward business. Nothing more, nothing less. Still, Takao’s words begin flitting through your mind now… of all times.

“Of course he can use it,” you smile. “I think it’s an honor to have our project regarded so highly like that, especially since so much effort was put into it… although… I think you’re the reason why we received such a high score, Midorima-san.” You train your gaze on Midorima, trying to gauge his reaction from the compliment, but he gives no such sign away, not any that you were aware of as far as you were concerned.

“(y/n)-san, I believe your own efforts and work ethic shouldn’t be trivialized,” Midorima replies, briefly closing his eyes and adjusting his frames. “After all, you are the one who made this project a cohesive final product, one that is also comprehensible to other peers in our presentation.”

“Ah… well…” You were definitely thrown in for a loop, not expecting Midorima to compliment you back so openly, albeit probably not for the reasons you were hoping for. “... Thank you, Midorima.” In an attempt to curb your growing flusteredness, you opted to stare at the bulletin board again, pretending to be occupied in reading the pinned papers.

“... Right.” Midorima softly clears his throat. “I’ll be taking my leave back to the faculty office. It was good talking to you.”

He swiftly turns around and walks back in the direction he came from, and when you were certain that he was walking judging from his footsteps, you turn your head to stare at his back before averting your gaze.

You frown once he exits out of your sight as you ponder about his particular diction.

“It was good talking to you”? Had Midorima ever said that to anyone before? You sigh to yourself and pinch your nose bridge to chastise yourself. Takao was right; you might’ve fallen a little too hard for the reserved individual, but even still, a relationship isn’t something you wanted to actively chase after.

Amidst your dilemma, you were completely unaware that Takao watched the entire exchange, holding back his laughter from seeing you uncharacteristically look like an absolute love-stricken fool. He got too much of a kick out of seeing the both of you trying to flirt… and an even bigger kick when he saw Midorima turning around to briefly “discreetly” stare at you while you were having your inner monologue.

———

“Takao, I’m having none of your bullshit today.” Midorima simply scowls as he prepares to leave the main building to the gym. Takao merely tags along while taunting him in a sing-song voice.

“Come onnn,” Takao insists, slapping Midorima’s back a little too harshly. “You said it yourself didn’t you? Favorable outcomes come to those who prepare the most. Don’t lie, I know you’ve been planning to naturally bump into our (y/n)-chan in different scenarios. Like yesterday in the hall—”

“You knew?!” Midorima jumps out of his skin to shoot an accusatory look at him, but Takao merely struggles to hold back a snicker at his reaction.

“Shin-chan, how hard is it to say three specific little words to someone else?” Takao sends a frustrated look. “You’ve always gone the extra mile to prepare your lucky items, read the Oha Asa predictions, and do little rituals not just for yourself but also for (y/n)-chan too, yet you don’t want to do a simple thing like confessing?”

“A confession isn’t that simple,” he retorts. “It can alter my fate for potentially worse if I’m not prepared.”

“Jeez, only you can take this so seriously,” Takao sighs, which only earned him a withering look from Midorima’s end. “But then again, it’s nice that you see it as something serious… but when are you actually gonna do it?” His response was only silence, as if he didn’t really give much thought about it until it was brought up now.

“That’s none of your concern.”

“Oh come on, Shin-chan!”

“To be honest,” he says, stopping in place. “The horoscope says that Cancers would be rejected by signs like of (y/n)-san’s, much less be compatible. Predictions state that such relationships between the two would be troublesome.”

“Okay, Shin-chan,” Takao says, patting Midorima’s shoulder. “I know I constantly joke about this Oha Asa and this entire thing with (y/n)-chan, but”—he stops when he sees Midorima giving him another scathing look—“even if the horoscopes state it so, it’s like you said: favorable outcomes come to those who do the most. If you did everything you could, I see no reason to be scared. Plus, you have me to help you.”

“... It’s not that. Part of this is beyond what I can do to prepare. Whatever I do will not influence (y/n)-san’s answer, and that is something out of my control.”

“You know, you could just say that you’re nervous.”

“I am not.”

“Well, if you want me to be honest,” Takao says. “I think it’s because the two of you are so eerily similar that you find it hard to approach (y/n)-san. Like, when’s the last time you’ve met someone as serious and stiff as yo—I’m kidding, I’m kidding! Please don’t raise your fist at me!”

“That being said,” he continues, “Just talk to (y/n) like you’ve talked to everyone else. I mean you both always hit it off when you talk together in class.”

“I… suppose…”

“Trust me,” Takao grins, slightly elbowing Midorima’s ribs. “I’d like to think of myself as an accurate guy in ball-passing and in detecting social cues.”

———

You really tried to carry yourself normally.

You really did.

But a part of you is becoming hyper-aware of everything Midorima does, and being your normally collected self is suddenly becoming a lot more difficult. Studying at your own desk is nigh impossible with both Midorima’s words and Takao’s implications running through your mind. Even Midorima, who normally minds his own business, shoots you pensive looks here and there during class, and he approaches you during break after.

“... Your sign is at one of the lowest ranks in luck today… may that be the reason why you’re not being your usual self?” He studies as you pull yourself together.

“Erm… somewhere along the lines, yeah. Most likely woke up on the wrong side of the bed today,” you mumble, rubbing your neck to ease the nervousness.

“Is that so…” he says. He pulls out a small toy that was found in the local gachapon down the street. “Ahem… I hear that your lucky item is this today.” He holds it out in front of you, silently waiting for you to take it, and you gently pluck it out of his large hands.

“Well, what about you?” you inquire. “I’m sure you got this toy for a reason, like say… for your own good luck?”

“Well,” he coughs. “I have my own. I am always prepared for such occurrences should things go awry.”

“You’re always so prepared for everything,” you quietly laugh. “Not that it’s a bad thing, though. I do wish I was more like you in that regard.”

“W-Well, I think you have your own admirable traits to be proud of, er…” Midorima slowly turns red and contemplates backtracking on his words. “I-If you excuse me, I must get going for health committee duties, nanodayo.” He heaves his bag on his shoulder as you wave at him, and he lingers there, debating on something that you aren’t sure what it is. “Might you have time afterschool today?”

“Uh… not that I think of,” you reply. “Are you already looking ahead to the next partner assignment?”

“Actually, no… it won’t take much of your time, (y/n)-san. It’s something quick. Can we meet at the vending machines near the gym? I do have practice around that time, so I hope somewhere nearby could suffice for you too.”

“That’s fine with me, because… I feel like I need to tell you something too or I won’t be able to study at this rate, but if you have practice, shouldn’t you be focused on that more?”

“It’s fine. This one takes… a higher priority.” Midorima fixes his glasses and readjusts his grip on his shoulder bag as he ponders about your own words. “If this arrangement is fine with you, I will be seeing you after school.” You only nod as you wave goodbye at him again, and you exhale a long sigh of relief and nervousness once he leaves. You really wonder if telling Midorima that you had something important to tell him was a good move on your part, considering that you can’t backtrack your words on someone as stubborn as him. Takao may or may not have seen Midorima’s attempt in being forward and silently laughed himself to oblivion in the corner of the classroom.

———

“Were you waiting long, Midorima-san?” You briskly jog with your heavy bag to the destined location to see Midorima thumbing through his book before he looks up.

“You are as punctual as always.” He closes his book with a thud and places it in his bag on the bench before he stands up to face you. “Which is always appreciated considering it is not as common in others.”

“I just think it’s common courtesy.”

“Not quite, considering I asked you rather suddenly to meet me here,” he says. “You aren’t obligated to even agree in meeting me, yet here you are on time, just like with our past project sessions.”

“Well… you did say it was important enough that you put practice as a second priority, and I do want to tell you something too.”

“R-Right…”

An awkward silence dominates the exchange after Midorima clears his throat and goes silent as you patiently wait in agony. You eye at his troubled expression, wondering what sort of thing he was going to tell you that got him so worked up. At the same time, you grew slightly antsier, quietly tapping a foot or rubbing your neck, and you wonder if Midorima was actually waiting for you to say something first.

“I… I think I’m in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me.”

“I-I believe I may have developed feelings akin to attraction for you.”

“Uh…”

“Ahem…”

Both of you stare at each other in unadulterated surprise.

“... You… like me?” Midorima murmurs, his eyes still full blown in shock.

“L-Likewise,” you reply, opting to stare at Midorima’s bag on the bench instead. Another awkward silence ensues as both of you take in each other’s sudden words and Midorima clears his throat again.

“... Why are you afraid of liking me?” Midorima restores his composure, staring at your flustered state with furrowed brows, thinking that he somehow made you uncomfortable at some point throughout the year.

“Wait… no! That’s not what I meant!” you say, mildly shaking your head. “Uh, let me rephrase that…” Midorima silently watches you as you continue. “Well, you weren’t the person to have romance in your mind, let alone have feelings, let alone for me, and… my friendship with you is something that I treasure, and I don’t want to hinder you with such things that can make you uncomfortable in being around me. That was why I was afraid, although I’ve been in denial about it until recently.”

“I see.”

“And um, I thought that confessing to you would end the friendship we had.”

“... Likewise.” Midorima uses your word against you with an upward curl of his lip. It almost seems like he was teasing you. You grow redder at his response, but he continued. “I suppose the lucky item I gave you provided the most favorable outcome for the day.” You only nod as you processed everything that just happened in a few moments, and both of you went quiet again.

“...”

“...”

“So…”

“... I’m not sure what to do next,” Midorima frowns. “I wasn’t prepared for this particular situation, nanodayo.” You only smile at his own flusters.

“Well…” you say. “We could date, but I don’t think that’s important right now, considering that we still have to focus on school… I mean unless you want to, then we can try to make it work?”

“Ahem, while I do think these things are quite frivolous,” he says. “I suppose we can learn to balance our relationship with other aspects of our lives accordingly.”

“I would like that,” you smile, walking to approach closer to Midorima. “Could we… um, hold hands? If you’re not into that though, that’s okay.” He says nothing in response but his hand slowly reaches out for your own to gently clasp, and closes his eyes in bliss before he opens them to look at you.

“... I must go to practice soon. It’s almost time.”

“I see,” you mumble. “If that’s the case, I’ll be inside the library to cram in extra lectures.” You pull your hand away to separate, but he holds you tighter. “Midorima?”

“... I’ll walk you there, nanodayo.” He peers over your face to gauge any objections on your end, but when he finds none, he gently tugs you along as you both walk to the building next-door.

“I never knew you were into hand-holding.”

“N-Not really,” he quietly says, his ears turning red.

“Actually,” you say, bringing Midorima’s attention back to you in light of the topic change. “I need to thank Takao tomorrow… he’s the one who pushed me to confess.”

“Hmph,” he scoffs. “I do suppose that the idiot has some merits to his words.”

“I do now see what he means when he keeps insisting that we’re too alike in personality and preferences.”

“That just means we’re more compatible than what fate initially predicted, nanodayo.”

“You checked the horoscopes for relationship compatibility? Never would I have thought that such things occupied your mind, Midorima…”

“Urk—That’s…”

#knb x reader #knb #knb scenarios #knb fic #knb fics #midorima x reader #midorima shintarou #midorima shintaro #midorima shintarou x reader #knb fluff #100 followers #100 follower milestone

[harrywritingsbyme]

Sunday Smut Concept #23

Based Off Of This Ask

And This One

And This One Too 

A/N: Just a cute and filthy lil sub!Harry blurb! Enjoy🙃

So there is no doubt in my mind that this would be sub!Harry and Y/n. 

In the beginning, the two of you were cuddling in bed. You were watching reruns of a random show you gout sucked into while channel surfing, and Harry was lying between your legs with his mouth wrapped around one of your breasts. He’d been in more of a subby mood today and by now he’d fully fallen into his subspace. 

All day long Harry was doing his best to stay close to you. When he was being sweet and cuddly, he’d lay his head on your lap or on your chest while you read or took care of some work. When he was in a more frisky mood, he’d a little further to push himself up against you and make an attempt to hump you to relieve some pressure in his cock. He’d whimper into your ear and beg you to touch him and make him feel better. You loved hearing him beg and plead with you to touch his cock. You enjoyed having that power over him. So to alleviate some of the pressure and keep him on the edge, you’d tell him that if he was a good boy all day long you’d take care of him and allow him to cum. While explaining this to him, you’d push your hand into his pants and squeeze at his cock. His body would instantly go limp and he’d become a moaning mess at the feeling of your soft hand around his throbbing cock. The two of you kept up with this pattern for the entire day.

 And it lasted up all the way up until now.

While the two of you were lying in bed, Harry began to softly rut his hips into your leg. Instead of engaging and giving him the attention he was trying to get from you, you simply kept on watching the show and playing with his hair. Even when his mouth began to suck harder on you, you still managed to ‘ignore’ him. Eventually his moans and whimpers got louder, and his ruts here and there turned into full on humping. You could feel his clothed and very hard cock digging into your flesh and you could hear the desperate need he had for you in his slightly muffled whimpers. But after a good 15 minuets of listening to and feeling Harry, you yourself were becoming a little turned on and decided that it was time to take care of him. He had been a good boy after all.

“I thought you were being a good boy for mommy.” You coo softly, diverting your attention from the screen in front of you down to Harry. When you finally pay the slightest bit of attention to him, Harry immediately perks up and detaches his mouth from your breast. 

“You said i could play with you if was good and i’ve been so good today mommy.” Harry pleads to you, lifting himself up to kneel between your legs. 

“Aww, I guess you have been a good boy for mommy baby.” You coo while sending him a pout. “Come closer to mommy sweet boy.” You instruct, causing him to swiftly crawl higher up to you. With him being closer to you, you have the ability to simply reach out and touch his clothed and large bulge. When you extend you hand to reach out and touch him, Harry was quick to melt into your touch. He was going to take everything he could get from you, even if it was simply you touching him through his boxers. He was so hard and turned on that if you were to tell him to cum right on the spot, He would be able to do it in little to no time. Even though this was the case, Harry still wanted to feel you against his cock. 

“Mommy! Fuck, I’m so hard it hurts!” He shouts out pitifully to you as your hand squeezes his throbbing cock through the confinement of his boxers. 

“Poor baby. Want mommy to play with you and make you feel good?” You ask him softly, already knowing his answer. 

“Please mommy! I’ll take anything you give me.” Harry cries out to you, feeling your thumb pushing back and forth against his throbbing head.

“Okay baby boy, mommy’s gonna need you to lay on the bed next to me so that I can play with your pretty cock.” You reply, patting the free space on the bed next to you. Without a second to spare, Harry is quickly crawling from between your legs and onto the bed next to you.

You then proceed to lift yourself up and move between his legs. You tell him to lift his hips up a bit to which he raises his hips high enough for you to pull his boxers off. But instead of taking them off, you pull them down just a little bit so the incredibly swollen and throbbing head of his cock is exposed and you push down on his hip so that he could relax back against the bed. Instead of questioning you, Harry takes whatever you give him; no matter how small it is. you then crawl further into him, throwing your legs over his and planting yourself down directly on top of his cock. 

“Oh mommy! I love when you’re on top of me.” Harry cries out to you through a moan. He loved the pressure from you in his lap on his cock. 

“Mommy’s gonna make her baby boy feel so good.” You coo, sending him a soft smirk and wink in the process. You then waste no time going right into what you had planned for him. You begin to rock your hips against him, grinding yourself down onto him, and using the tips of your fingers to play with his exposed head (especially his leaky slit). You knew that this wouldn’t be enough, and you were planning on giving him more. You wanted to make him feel so good that he cries and moans as he drains his heavy balls fo his cum. He wanted the tight knot in his tummy to explode as he finally let go. You knew that he was there, you just wanted to push him a little further. As you continue to rock against him, you watch his face contort and his mouth hang open as he repeatedly slurs thank you’s and tells you how good you were making him and his cock feel. Seeing and hearing him turn into a complete mess was actively turning you into a mess as well. Seeing him outside of his typical dominant and put together self was beyond amazing to you and you were beyond addicted. You were also enjoying the feeling of his thick shaft moving against you through your panties. You were becoming so damp that your arousal was bleeding through not only your thin lacy panties, but also Harry’s boxers.

Feeling your juices through his boxers was definitely making things harder. Your juices along with you simply being on him felt so good. But he wanted more. He wanted to feel the pussy that he constantly worshiped and loved against his cock.

“Please mommy, I’ve been such a good little boy, at least let me see your pretty pussy.” Harry begs, slightly bucking his hips up into you. 

“Want mommy to push her pretty pussy against your pretty cock baby boy. Want me to get your cock nice and wet?”

“Oh yes mommy! I need your pussy.” He begs of you. And with that, you stop moving against him and you lift yourself off of him completely. You swiftly remove your panties, tossing them away from you and you focus back in on the tight boxers that were clinging to Harry’s body and confining his cock. After instructing him to lift his hips, and yanking down the now unnecessary fabric, Harry’s pretty, throbbing and beyond sensitive cock is exposed to you.

“Oh my goodness baby!” You gasp, taking in his exceedingly hard, throbbing, and red cock. “Your cock is so pretty, big and red for mommy.” You praise, wrapping your hand around his girthy shaft that had thick veins running up and down it.

“All for you mommy.” Harry groans as your soft hand tugs upward on him. Instead of remaining on the side of him, you bring yourself back between his legs to continue playing with and taking in his cock. 

“And look at these heavy balls.” You gasp once more, pushing his cock forward towards his stomach to get a better look at the heavy, and plump balls that were resting a bit lower between his legs. “I bet they’re filled with that delicious cum of yours.” You hum delightedly, thinking back to how surprisingly good he tasted.

“It’s yours mommy, all yours.” He pants, continuing to enjoy your praises and touches to the area between his legs. 

“You are such a good little boy.” You hum, bringing your head down to press a wet kiss to both of his large balls before coming back up to give a suckling kiss to the throbbing crown of his cock, resulting in a loud hiss from Harry. You then lift yourself back up and sit right in his lap. You’re sitting directly on his cock which is pushed right between your sticky folds. “Feel better baby boy?” You question him with a hum as you begin pushing yourself against him again. 

“Oh yes mommy!” Harry moans back to you, digging his head into the pillow beneath him. “Your pussy is so wet and pretty.” He gasps, feeling you push yourself all the way up to the tip of his cock.

“It’s because of this big cock of yours sweet boy.” You moan. “So big and perfect between my folds baby.” You sigh, feeling yourself nearing the edge. As you continue, you pick up the pace and you use the pad of your tongue to apply a little pressure to his oh so sensitive and leaky slit. Resulting in a loud and pleasured cry from Harry. You also make sure to reach behind you and squeeze and play with his warm balls.

“Please mommy! I just need to be inside you.” Harry cries out to you, fluttering his eyes open to look up at you. If you sank down onto him, it would not only push Harry over the edge, but it would push you mover as well. And within a matter of seconds, you manage to lift yourself up and begin sinking down onto him. As you do this, the both of you let out the loudest most pleasured moans. You loved stretch that came along with his big cock. “You’re so tight mommy i love when you ride me.” Harry says excitedly through his moans. 

“Your cock is so big baby, the perfect size for my tight pussy.” You moan, taking in the last bit of his cock into you. You decide to forgo the little window of adjustment and you just go straight into riding him. As you move up and down on him, you tighten and release your walls around his cock, causing Harry to get even more worked up and even closer to letting go. “Feel you in my tummy baby boy, nice and deep  for mommy.” You gasp, feeling his thick head slam into your sweet spot over and over again. 

“Please tell me I’m your good boy mommy! Think m’gonna cum.” Harry cries out to you, feeling the fiery knot in the pit of his stomach get closer and closer to exploding.

“You’re my good boy baby. Now cum with mommy.” You reply before dropping yourself down hard onto him and pressing your palm into his lower stomach where you knew he’d be the most sensitive, triggering your both to completely let go. 

As you came around his cock, Harry painted the entirety of your walls white with his sticky cum, emptying his balls into you. It felt so good to let go around each other. Once you both are done (which takes a pretty good while), you collapse onto his chest (keeping his cock inside you of course).

“I love you mommy.” Harry whispers, wrapping his arms around your limp frame. 

“I love you too sweet boy.” You whisper back to him. You then pucker your lips to press a small kiss into the crook of his neck before dozing off to sleep.

Masterlist 

#Harry Styles #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles writing #my harry writing #concepts of h #harrywritingsbyme

[wienerbarnes]

Much Ado About Nothing (3/6)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,357

Warnings: enemies to lovers, au series, some DRAMAAAAAA

A/N: this chapter is where it gets JUICYYYYY YALLLLLL

MAIN MASTERLIST | MUCH ADO MASTERLIST

“I’ll go on and check out the situation in Italy after the wedding.” Sam says, talking with Steve, Bucky, and Tony about talk of an underground HYDRA facility. Guess I spoke too soon about a break, Bucky thinks.

“I’ll go with you.” Steve promises him, aligned with the promises of a Captain and leader.

“Please, I’m not taking you away from your new marriage and wife like that. I’ll take Bucky with me, he’s single and Cupid seems like he’ll be staying away from him for a while.” Sam teases.

The three men await Bucky’s response; his usual wit, his banter with Sam, an insult, a comeback. But nothing comes. Only a dismissive hum as Bucky doesn’t meet any of their eyes.

“Should… Should I repeat myself? Did I not stick the execution?” Sam asks.

“I’ve… changed over the last couple days.” Bucky starts, unsure of how to approach his feelings, especially to his close friends, two of which are already in committed relationships with their feelings already figured out.

“You know, you do seem more serious. You shaved your beard and everything.” Tony agrees.

“I hope he’s in love.” Steve wishes aloud.

“Oh c’mon. There’s no love in this guy’s heart.” Sam disagrees.

“I think he’s in love.” Steve continues.

“The clean shaven look really makes you look younger, Barnes.” Tony compliments, both him and the Captain ignoring Sam’s logic in the situation and choosing their own thoughts to pay attention to.

“Yeah, c’mon, Sam, when has Bucky ever shaved his beard?” Steve points out.

“Alright, alright, enough. Tony… Can I talk to you about something?” Bucky asks, and Tony nods his head, motioning for the two of them to talk elsewhere.

As they walk away, heading for another part of the building, Sam and Steve excitingly face each other.

“Do you think he’s going to go talk to him about Techie?” Sam asks.

“I hope so; Bucky’s one of the hardest guys to read.”

Their brief conversation is interrupted when someone else enters the room. Sam turns to greet his brother as John sends the two of them a polite smile.

“Hey, Sam.” John greets him as Sam throws an enthusiastic arm around his shoulder.

“What’s up, Johnny?”

“I was wondering if I could talk to you about something.” John begins.

“In private?”

“Well, Captain Rogers can stay, as it kind of concerns him, too.” He explains, and Steve cocks his head in confusion.

“What’s the matter, kid?” Steve asks.

“Are you still planning on getting married tomorrow?” John asks him, and Sam answers, growing suspicious of his younger brother’s behavior.

“You know that he is.” Sam tells him.

“Well, I don’t know if he is after he finds out what I know,” John argues.

“Spit it out, John.” Steve commands.

John pauses and Steve urges him on, “If there’s any reason you think I shouldn’t get married, then you should tell me.”

“She’s unfaithful.” He finally spits out.

“Who, Sharon?” Steve asks.

“Yes.”

“Is that possible?” Steve turns to Sam, asking his best friend to tell him that his brother is lying.

“No, it’s not. John, where the hell did you get that stupid idea?” Sam scolds him.

“I saw it with my own eyes, man, I’m telling you. If you don’t believe me, meet me in the lab tonight, and I’ll show you all the proof you need.”

“This is stupid.” Sam repeats.

“Okay, okay. I’ll meet you in the lab and if I see something tonight, I’ll talk to Sharon tomorrow, before the wedding.” Steve compromises.

“You’re seriously having doubts?” Sam asks incredulously.

“Sam, what reason would your kid brother have to lie to me about this?” Steve defends.

Seeing as his work here is done, John slips out of the room. The seed has been planted. He’d been thinking of ways to sabotage the wedding, just to spice things up in the tower a bit. He thought about childish pranks, like loosening some of the chairs in the ballroom, or sneaking into the kitchen to put laxatives in the food. Maybe hiring a stranger to object, or setting off the sprinklers in the middle of the event. The possibilities are endless.

But he soon realized that none of these things would actually ruin the wedding. Seeing the way these people act around each other, they’d make a show of whatever problems arise, celebrating them even more. John doesn’t want that.

He needed to think deeper. He needed to cause a problem at the root: their relationship. So, he discussed with some other interns on the team who also share his disdain for the Avengers.

Leila and Kennedy Gordon are the ones that agreed to his plan. A married couple themselves, but the difference is that they value professionalism in the workplace, just as John does. It’s time that the Avengers are humbled and realize they don’t stand at the center of the universe, and that the world doesn't revolve around them.

The couple will be staged in one of the spare rooms of the tower; one of the spare rooms whose window is visible from a spot in the lab stations. John is lucky that Leila fits the build and stature of Sharon Carter, same hair style and length, too. In the dark of the night, their silhouettes will simulate Steve’s beloved fiancée caught in an interesting predicament with another man.

If John succeeds, the wedding will surely be canceled, finally serving the much-needed reminder that the Avengers are not as invincible as they think they are.

…

Tony and Bucky stroll silently through the open lot of the hangar. Tony knows Bucky’s about to unload on him about all his undecided feelings, but decides to let him come out with it on his own. It has been about seven minutes of silence, though, and Tony’s started to feel uncomfortable.

“When did you know you loved Pepper? I mean, you guys have been together for so long now, and have known each other even longer.” Bucky finally asks, not looking at him.

“Well, I’ve always loved her, it was just a matter of me realizing it for myself. Same with her, I suppose.”

“Yeah, but, what made you… know? Like what happened that made you realize?”

“Barnes, there’s no big red arrow pointing out the exact moment. It just happens.”

“Ugh, but that doesn’t help me, Tony!” Bucky stops, rubbing a hand over face, becoming frustrated.

“Well, maybe if you told me a little about what’s going on instead of asking me these impossibly complex questions with impossibly complex answers, I could help you better.”

“I take it, you think you love someone?” Tony asks.

Bucky finally meets his eyes in a silent answer. He rolls his eyes, though, when Tony starts grinning like an idiot.

“Tony, stop.”

“C’mon, Mister-Sworn-to-Celibacy has finally found himself a girl and you expect me to not make fun of him?”

“Okay, definitely not sworn to celibacy -”

“Doesn’t matter. Who is it?”

“What?”

“What do you mean what? Tell me who the girl is.”

“...No. You’ll tell everybody.” Bucky says, immediately seeming to shrink down, shyness crowding his body like a middle schooler talking about his crush.

“So what? You know what, it doesn’t even matter. I already know who it is.” Tony claims.

“What? Who?” Bucky asks. He only figured it out himself a few days ago, how does Tony know?

“The webmonkey in my lab.” Tony tells him, rather than guesses.

How does he know?!

Bucky doesn’t have time to object or tell him otherwise before Tony gives him that shit-eating smile again. Bucky rolls his eyes once more, knowing now that Tony definitely knows.

“How did you even know? Has she told you anything?” Bucky asks now, curious.

“No, she hasn’t. But she doesn’t have to. I have eyes.” Tony says simply.

…

Sharon and Nat occupy the private tailor in the tower as Sharon tries on her wedding dress, Nat offering different accessories for Sharon to choose from. Bows, lace, diamonds, earrings, bracelets, and of course, the type of garter she will wear on her thigh underneath the dress.

You walk in, with coffee as you’d promised the two other ladies, and they greet you.

“What’s got you all giddy?” Sharon asks, gratefully taking the coffee.

“Yeah, you hate all this lovey-dovey stuff.” Nat agrees.

“What, I can’t be happy for my best friend?” You ask, not ready for an interrogation right now.

“Mhm.” Sharon hums incredulously.

“I think you need some Jameson.”

“Jameson? Is there some kind of double meaning there?” You ask, surprised by her word choice.

Sharon and Nat glance at each before looking back at their friend.

“All I meant was that I think you need a drink. Why, would it have a double meaning?” Nat asks, knowing smile teasing her lips.

“No!” You answer quickly, hoping that the conversation will change. You’re really not ready to talk about all your feelings right now.

“Is there a special James in your life?” Sharon teases.

“No -”

“I think that you think that we think you’re in love. Which we do.” Nat confirms.

“But -”

“You know, Bucky didn’t believe in love just like you did. But he’s changed, and now he’s allowed himself to love someone ungrudgingly. And even though you think you don’t deserve it, I think you should do the same. How we’ll convince you to do that, I have no idea,” Sharon trails off.

There’s a pause of silence as both you and Nat take in Sharon’s serious words.

“I think I really like Bucky. I don’t know about love. But I’m allowing myself to admit that much.” You finally admit in a quiet voice. You don’t meet their eyes, even though you feel their stares. This is probably the most vulnerable you’ve been in front of them.

Even when you’ve gotten out of bad relationships, going to Sharon and Nat for comfort, you never allowed yourself to open up too much. You knew that you’d always heal, always get back up from your internal wounds, and always knew that things would pass. You never whined to them, rarely cried, and for you to admit your honest feelings to them was… a lot.

Sharon and Nat can’t help but celebrate, though.

Girlish squeals are heard among your annoyed groans as they crowd you, enveloping you in a hug, the poofs of Sharon’s dress nearly suffocating you.

You suppose you’d rather suffocate via lace than love, though.

…

It’s late at night when Sam and Steve go to meet John in a private station in the lab. Sam advised against it at all costs, knowing his brother can be a troublemaker and knowing Steve is incredibly gullible.

“So, you said Sharon was seeing a friend tonight, right?” John asks, setting up the situation for tonight.

“Yes, she said she was going downtown to see a friend who wouldn’t be making it to the wedding.” Steve confirms.

John begins his speal; how he heard Sharon telling an agent that she was instead going to meet with one of the other recruits tonight, as a final affair before her wedding. There’s a walkie-talkie hidden in the desk they’re crowded around, an identical one in the room where Leila and Kennedy sit, waiting for the code word to come about for them to put on their performance.

Sam is annoyed. The irritation is radiating off his body, he feels as though if he rolls his eyes any harder, the earth will start spinning backwards. He watches Steve tense up as John relays his story of overheard gossip, and he gets even more angry.

How is Steve going to believe a teenager about this stupid shit? He tries to take a step back, remembering that not everyone knows John as well as he does, knows how he likes to start trouble, knows that this is the kind of stuff he does when he’s bored. He also can’t imagine what it’s like to hear that your fiancée  may be cheating on you. So, he remains silent, letting this go on, knowing there’s no way it can be true.

“I’ve seen them here only twice before, always at nine,” John explains, casually emphasizing the number in order to signal his accomplices.

“Look! There they are, now!”

The three of them look to the window, and the shadows of two people appear. Sam and Steve don’t want to believe it, but the girl looks just like Sharon - same height, same build, same hair; they can even see the silhouette of long nails on her hands, nails Sharon got done earlier that day.

The two bodies clearly begin to embrace each other, heaty kissing and groping visible to the men in the lab. The taller man’s hands slip down to pick the other person up, them wrapping their legs around his body as they continue to kiss.

Steve doesn’t say anything, just walks off back towards the elevators where they came from, and Sam follows quickly behind, refusing to leave his best friend alone.

John struggles to hold in his amused laughs until he hears the elevator doors close. When they do, he quickly reaches for the walkie-talkie inside his desk, telling his associates that they did a job well done.

“I figured it’d be easy to fool those two meatheads, but I didn’t think it’d be that easy.” John admits.

Meanwhile, Sam is trying to stop Steve from having a full blown panic attack in the elevator ride back upstairs.

Steve quickly dials and redials Sharon’s phone, repeating the process every time she doesn’t answer.

“Man, relax -”

“Relax?! You want me to relax?!”

“Okay, bad choice of words -”

“You know what, I’m just going to wait until she gets home. She told me she wouldn’t be home late because tonight's our last night staying together before our wedding night, and when I see her, I’ll confront her.”

“Steve, I think you should -”

Steve ignores him and stomps out of the elevator as soon as the doors open, leaving Sam alone in the elevator to linger in his out frustration.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes fanfiction #what's the teaaaa the girls are fightingggggg #so much drama

[smaidjor]

and i pay for my place by the ring (Chapter 3)

Hey everyone and welcome to the third and likely final chapter of this saga! When I was writing this, I told my friends it might end up the shortest chapter.

Spoiler alert: it was not, in fact, the shortest chapter.

Anyways, thank you guys for sticking with me through this insane journey of angst writing! The story doesn't end here, but the fic does because I think I'm going to be switching how I write it a little bit. You'll see if I ever get the energy to write the continuation.

(Also, I've stopped putting AO3 links in the actual post because then it doesn't show up in the tag.)

Anyways, enjoy this chapter!

Chapter Title: to turn at last to paths that lead home

Chapter Wordcount: 4686

Content warnings: mentions of death, violence, blood, mild injury, religion, self-esteem issues. There is also something that could be considered similar to deadnaming, though the character is not necessarily trans, so read with caution if that could be triggering to you.

Actual fic under the cut:

That night, Scott dreams he’s a child again, playing amongst the peaks with Xornoth by his side. They laugh as they dart out of his reach, and he jumps over a rock to try and catch them.

“Too slow,” Xornoth snickers, and Scott glares at them.

“Someday I’ll be ten times as fast as you, and stronger too!”

They laugh again and tackle him into the grass, forceful enough to push him down but not enough to really hurt. “Alright, little bro.”

“You’re only older by seven minutes!”

“Seven minutes, more like seven times cooler than you!”

Scott reaches up and tickles them, grinning wickedly as they yelp and roll off him.

The scene shifts, and this time it’s a teenaged Xornoth laying on the hill beside him, staring up at the sky.

“Hey, Scott?”

“Yeah?”

“If anything ever happens to me-”

“It won’t,” Scott interrupts, heart in his throat. “Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

“It could-”

“No.”

They sigh. “Alright. But if it ever does, I need you to promise me one thing.”

“What is it?”

“I need you to promise that you’ll take care of Rivendell.”

Scott glares at them. “Rivendell hates me. Don’t ask-”

“Please. Scott, please just promise me this one thing.” Their face is deathly serious. “I don’t- nothing’s going to happen to me, but I need to know that Rivendell will be safe if anything does.”

"But-"

"Please, Scott. I know you would do brilliant at it, and I need the guarantee.

He sighs but ultimately gives in. “I wouldn't, but fine. I promise.”

Xornoth nods, seemingly satisfied. “You’re leaving tonight, right?”

“I am.”

“Then take this.” They roll over and press something into his hand. “You’ll need it.”

Scott looks down to see Vilya, the silver band gleaming in the sunlight. “Xor, you can’t give me this. This is-”

“I know perfectly well what it is, little bro.” He looks up to find them smiling sadly. “And I know you’ll need it. Now better wake up, your husband’s calling.”

“My wha-”

Scott’s plunged back into awareness to the sound of Jimmy calling his name.

“Scott? Please?” He sounds shaken, but it barely registers in Scott’s sleepy brain.

Scott rolls over and blinks his eyes open to see Jimmy watching him with concern. “Five more minutes, darling.”

“I think something’s wrong,” Jimmy says, urgent. “It feels wrong. Really wrong.”

That wakes Scott up, alright, the fear in his husband’s voice sending a spike of worry through him as he sits up. “What is it?”

“I don’t know. It’s alright, go back to sleep.”

“No, no, I trust your gut.” He trusts Jimmy more than anything else, really, which is why he gets up and out of bed. “Let’s go look, and if it’s nothing then I’ll sleep more, okay?”

Jimmy nods, hurrying after him. “I have a really terrible feeling, Scott. Be careful, please.”

“I should be telling that to you,” Scott teases.

“Hey, I’ve gotten more careful!”

Scott can’t help but laugh at how offended his husband sounds, but his mirth dies as quickly as it came. “You’re right, Jimmy. Something isn’t right.” It’s making the hairs on his arm stand up, a prickling unease similar to what he felt before the battle where Jimmy died.

“I know, it feels awful!”

“Mhm.” Scott grabs his favorite axe, glancing back at Jimmy one more time. “Stay behind me, just in case.”

He swings the door open. It takes a moment to spot what’s wrong, but once he does, his heart plummets; Xornoth is standing across the valley next to his enchanting tower, their face and body twisted with corruption but still unmistakably Scott’s sibling.

“That’s the demon!” Jimmy hisses. He sounds terrified, and Scott can’t blame him, much as it feels like a punch to the gut to know that his sibling is the one who’s been harassing his husband.

Scott grits his teeth. Protect Rivendell, that’s what he promised Xornoth all those years ago. “That?”

“Yes!”

“Right. Okay.” He takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself. “Jimmy, I need you to listen to exactly what I say right now. If I say get down, you get down. If I say run, you run and don’t look back no matter what you hear. Can you do that?”

Jimmy’s response comes a second later. “I trust you. If you say run, I’ll run.” The pure faith in the words is enough to make Scott’s throat close up for a moment, choked with sudden emotion at the level of trust Jimmy’s showing him even after everything that happened.

He shoves that feeling down. “Alright. Give me your engagement ring.”

“Wh-”

“Trust me. Please.” Scott’s nearly begging, voice cracking a bit on the last word. Jimmy must hear how weak he sounds, because he gives in without question, handing over Vilya.

Scott slides it onto his finger, hands trembling just a bit as he does. He remembers being given this ring, being just as terrified by how much Xornoth trusted him then as he is by how much Jimmy trusts him now. Ironic, really, that now he’ll be using this ring against the person who gave it to him to begin with. “Okay, Jimmy. I’m about to go out the front door, and when I do, I need you to go out the side door over there and run for the stables. When you get there, roll in the mud and then run for the village. Speed over stealth, corrupted elves track by smell and sound rather than sight.” He keeps the instructions quick and clear, praying that Jimmy’s not stubborn enough to disobey. He can’t lose Jimmy, he can’t.

Thank god, Jimmy nods.

Scott takes another deep breath, brain awhirl as he tries to figure out how he’s going to keep both Jimmy and Rivendell safe. “From there, I need you to track down an elf called Gilnar and tell them to lock down the kingdom and warn everyone of the danger.” After a moment's thought, he adds “I also need you to tell them that Lord Smajor orders them to protect you.” Gilnar’s trustworthy, they’ll look after Jimmy.

“What about you?” Jimmy asks. “Will you be okay?”

His heart aches at the concern, and it aches more when he opens his mouth to lie. “I will, I promise.” He doesn’t meet Jimmy’s eyes, knowing he’ll break if he does.

Thankfully, Jimmy says nothing about it, instead reaching for one of the spare swords. Good, good, he can protect himself.

“Ready?” Scott asks.

“Ready,” Jimmy confirms, though his voice trembles.

Scott shoves down the part of him that screams that this wasn’t supposed to be his responsibility, that he should just run while he can. He made a promise to his sibling all those years ago, and he’s going to keep it even if it’s now them that he has to defend Rivendell from.

He steps out the door.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Jimmy bolt for the stables, but the greater part of his attention is focused on Xornoth, still floating ominously across the valley.

“You do not belong here,” Scott calls out in Sindarin. It’s a challenge more than anything, practically asking them to come fight him.

He knows he’s messing with forces he doesn’t understand and cannot win against, knows it as surely as he knows his own name. Xornoth has always been faster and stronger, after all, ever since they were children.

And yet-

And yet he has to try regardless. After all, when they were children, Scott always tried to win anyways, even if it never worked. And now, the weight of an empire resting on his shoulders and his husband somewhere in the village behind him, the stakes are higher than just his pride. So he squares his shoulders and doesn’t back down as Xornoth appears in front of him with a ripple of smoke, a cruel smirk on their face.

“Well, well, well, dear brother. Never thought it’d come to this.”

“Neither did I,” Scott retorts.

They grin again. “I belong here just as much as you, you know.”

He raises his axe, gritting his teeth. “You did once, but not anymore.”

Xornoth laughs as they dart out of the way of his blows, tendrils of corruption curling around them and reaching for him. “I belong here more than you ever will.”

He stumbles back, trying to get out of their reach. “That’s not true either.”

“Oh, but it is. I thought you’d be too much of a coward to ever face me, you know. Spineless little Scott, running away from his problems like you ran away from our family.”

“We had no family left! It was just you and me!”

“And you left me to be consumed by my own greed and despair. The sibling you know died years ago and it’s all because you’re a coward.”

Scott flinches, barely bringing his axe up in time to block their next strike. “That’s not- that wasn't my fault! I didn't mean for that to happen."

“Do you really think that? Are you really foolish enough to think that you didn’t hurt me by leaving?” Xornoth’s grin is razor-sharp.

“You told me to leave if it would make me happier,” Scott cries, lapsing back into English without thinking about it.

“You shouldn’t have wanted to leave in the first place. No real elven ruler would want to leave the oldest sanctuary of the elves.”

They have him backing up again and again, barely holding them off. “I tried- I was-”

“Look at you, an elf speaking a human language,” Xornoth hisses. “How did you ever think you were going to be good enough for them? You’re never going to be the real king of Rivendell, Elinar.”

“Don’t- don’t call me that,” Scott pants.

“Elinar,” they taunt again. “Stupid, stupid Elinar. Weak, pathetic little Elinar.”

Scott stumbles backward, landing on his butt in the grass as Xornoth towers over him. His axe falls to the side, snatched by a tendril of corruption as they reach out, digging their claws into his shoulders and pushing him down. Scott’s helpless to do anything when those same tendrils reach for him, the smell of rot permeating the air. They hesitate for a moment, hovering above him, and then Xornoth grins sadistically and the corruption snatches him.

It hurts. It hurts more than any pain he’s ever felt. More than Etho’s arrow in his throat, more than Martyn’s arrow to the chest, more than Ren’s sword through his back. More than even waking up back in Rivendell. The corruption wraps itself around his throat and wrists, pinning him to the ground as his older sibling grins. Scott distantly registers that he’s screaming, writhing as he tries to get out of their hold, but everything’s fuzzy with his brain clouded by pain. He doesn’t want to die, not like this. Anything but this.

There’s a faint, familiar voice in the distance, though Scott can’t focus on what it’s saying through the haze of pain. It sounds comforting, though, and he clings to the noise like a lifeline.

All of the sudden, the pain stops and the corruption draws back slightly as Xornoth turns away.

“What did you say to me?” they hiss, in English this time.

“I said you’re ugly!” The same voice calls, and this time Scott recognizes it as Jimmy. Oh, god, Jimmy. “And you suck! Leave my husband alone!”

Xornoth loosens their hold on Scott’s shoulders, turning towards wherever Jimmy is, and Scott’s gets a rush of determination. He can’t let them hurt Jimmy.

Scott backhands them across the face, kicking his way free of their hold with strength he didn’t know he still had. They give a tiny yelp of surprise, a familiar sound, and he staggers to his feet.

This time, he doesn’t bother with the axe. Instead, he forces his will into Vilya, praying to any and every god that it will work for him. He doesn’t even believe in the elven gods any longer, and yet he’s still praying to Aeor, to Varda, to Manwe, to any deity out there that he’s enough of a true elvenking to make a ring of power bend to his will.

“You are not welcome here!” Scott shouts, and he feels the ancient strength of Vilya behind his words.

Xornoth hisses, staggering backwards. “Fine! Banish me, then, if you’re a true enough king to do it. Run back to your mortal lover, Elinar, and pray to all the gods that he doesn’t ever see how worthless you really are.”

He doesn’t flinch, though it’s a close thing. “Leave! Leave and never return!”

This time, Vilya pulses more strongly, and Xornoth is forced out of Rivendell with a hum of power.

Scott stumbles as that rush of power leaves him, collapsing to the ground. His entire body aches from the fight, but more than that, Xornoth’s last words are still ringing in his mind. Pray to all the gods that he doesn’t ever see how worthless you really are. They’re right. He knows they’re right, and that’s the worst part about it.

“Scott! Scott!” He can hear Jimmy call, and within a minute, Jimmy’s standing in front of him.

Scott looks up at his husband- his beautiful, brave husband who he’s never once deserved- his breathing ragged as he tries to reach out. “Jimmy,” He manages, a hoarse whisper.

Jimmy kneels by him, concern written across his face clear as day. “What’s wrong? Where- what’s hurt? I’ll fix it, I promise, I-” Scott grabs him and yanks him into a hug, hardly daring to believe he’s real.

“Oh,” Jimmy says, quiet, dumbstruck. He hugs Scott oh-so-gently, though his embrace isn’t enough to soothe Scott’s trembling. “It’s alright, Scott, we’re alright.”

“Jimmy,” Scott gasps. He needs his husband, needs him to be okay. “Jimmy, I can’t.”

“I-”

“I want it to be over.” It sounds so childish, but he’s so tired. “I don’t want elves or nations or politics. I just want you.”

“I know, I know,” Jimmy soothes.

‘Why does it have to be me? It wasn’t supposed to be! It wasn’t supposed to be me!” Scott wants to shout it, scream it to the world, because it’s not fair. He wasn’t supposed to be heir to Rivendell. He wasn’t supposed to have a ring of power. He wasn’t supposed to be forced to fight his own sibling. It’s not fair, but it happened anyways. It happened anyways, and that’s what breaks him, voice cracking as he begs for something, though he doesn’t even know what he wants at this point. Peace, maybe. Happiness. “I- please- shouldn’t have- Jimmy. Jimmy .”

He repeats Jimmy’s name over and over, searching for any small scrap of comfort as his sobs tear him to pieces, clutched in his husband’s arms on the grass. Jimmy’s so gentle with him, his embrace so kind as he presses soft kisses to Scott’s head and murmurs in a comforting tone, though Scott’s too far lost in his own head to hear any of what Jimmy says. His world narrows to warm arms around him, the texture of Jimmy’s shirt clutched between his fingers. Jimmy smells like dirt and swamp water- it’s the silliest thing to notice when Scott’s busy sobbing over having to fight his own sibling, but it’s easier to think about than anything else. It’s easier to think about Jimmy than anything else, really, easier to cling to the sound of his voice and his hand on Scott’s back than confront the way Scott’s grief is eating him alive.

Distantly, he can hear footsteps approaching. They’re too light to be anything but elven, not that that’s a surprise when they’re in the home of the elves. He can’t bring himself to lift his head and face them, not when his breath is still coming quick and ragged.

Gilnar’s first to speak, hesitant concen leaking into their words. “Uh, milord?”

Scott can feel Jimmy’s grip tighten protectively, can practically imagine his affronted look as he opens his mouth to snap back. “Give him a goddamn minute! He just fought a demon for all of you, let the man rest! I know you’re all elves and you’re all- all elegant and composed or whatever, but you can’t expect someone to be perfect! We’re all human, you know!” He winces a little, knowing the elves are going to tear Jimmy to shreds for that.

Indeed, one of his advisors speaks up, disdain clear in their tone. “You are human, Codfather. We are not. Lord Smajor knew the responsibilities and difficulties of ruling.”

It’s ever the way of elven royalty- their rulers cannot dare be flawed.

“He’s too young for this,” Someone else mutters. There’s as much pity in their tone as there is disdain, a strange mix of concern and derision.

“I- well I don’t think anyone could have expected a demon! And probably even less people’d be willing to fight one!” Jimmy’s voice rises with every sentence. Scott wants to tell him to spare the outrage- he’s not worth it. “Scott’s one of the bravest, kindest, smartest people I know, so lay off him, will you?”

“You know nothing of the affairs of elves,” his advisor sniffs, and Scott’s blood boils at how rude they’re being to Jimmy.

It’s that outrage that gives him the energy to raise his head, forcing his breathing to steady out. “It’s fine, Jimmy. They are correct, I do have responsibilities.” You shouldn’t be defending me, he doesn’t say. I’m not worth your outrage.

“They can’t expect you to be perfect,” Jimmy argues back.

Scott almost laughs, knowing full well that they can and should. Instead, though, he breaks free of Jimmy’s embrace and gets to his feet with far more effort than that should really take. “Gilnar, get the village out of lockdown and make sure people are aware of the threat of Xornoth. Celebear, search the library for any books on corruption of elves, and Lauriel, translate any you find that are not Sindarin into it. Elder council, I need research done on any rings of power that are strong enough to counteract Vilya to that degree, that will narrow down what Xornoth has.” His voice comes out hoarse, and he’s barely aware of what he’s saying, but he forces himself to carry on. “Now, the Codfather and I need to negotiate wool and fish trades,” Scott adds, the quickest excuse he can think of. He grabs Jimmy’s hand, dragging him away as quickly as he can manage, and ignores the stares that follow him.

They make it up the hill and into Scott’s house before Scott’s legs give out, sending him into a chair with an undignified thump. “Well, fuck me to the End and back.”

“Are they always like that?” Jimmy sounds more concerned than anything.

“Pretty much. Gilnar’s okay, just tough as shit, and so are Celebear and Lauriel, but...I wasn’t- well, I wasn’t meant to inherit Rivendell, and the Council of Elders takes every opportunity to remind me of that fact.” That’s just how it is- he doesn’t bother getting upset over it at this point. He’s always going to be second-best.

“Oh.” Jimmy hesitates, and then asks “Who’s Xornoth?”

Scott would be lying if he said he wasn’t terrified of Jimmy’s reaction, but he has nothing left to lose, so he laughs bitterly and answers honestly. “My twin, also known as the demon that’s been terrorizing you.”

“What?”

“My twin. My older sibling.” He gives another little laugh. “The person who was supposed to inherit the throne of the elves.” Who was better than Scott in every way.

“What?” Jimmy sounds shocked and confused, but not angry, not yet, so Scott elaborates.

“Let me start from the beginning. My parents were two elven monarchs, one of the Sindar, and one of the Noldor. With other bloodlines mixed in, but the Sindar and Noldor is the important bit since those two groups haven’t always gotten along. Somewhere around fifty-five years ago, they started trying for kids. What they didn’t expect was that Xornoth and I are identical twins, only the fifth set of elven twins ever recorded.” Old legend says that elven twins are only born in times of great conflict, and Scott can’t exactly say it's wrong.

“Whoa.”

“Mhm. Xornoth was- is- technically the older one, who was always set to inherit the throne of the elves and unite our divided people. They were compared to Elrond, wise and powerful leader of another land named Rivendell far in the past, and I was Elros, his twin. Impulsive, snarky, human.” Scott spits the word a bit like a curse, not because he hates humans, but because he hates himself and all the ways he’s too much like them. He closes his eyes against a fresh set of tears, blinking away the memory of Xornoth’s face when he left Rivendell. “Our parents died when we were both quite young, and we were brought up expecting Xornoth to take the throne as soon as they came of age. I spent my time hanging out with mortals, instead, getting involved in things like mcc and 3rd life.”

“Ohhh,” Jimmy says intelligently. It’s such a Jimmy way to react to something so serious, Scott might laugh if the mood were lighter.

“When I was the elven equivalent of seventeen or so, Xornoth gave me a ring. This ring, specifically.” Scott taps the ring that’s still resting on his middle finger, feeling it hum in return. “Vilya, an elven ring of power. They told me to leave Rivendell and not return.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t know at the time, but they were being corrupted by a ring of their own, not to mention their own desire for power.” Scott feels Jimmy take his hand, and looks up to see gentle concern written across his husband’s face. He has to blink again, turning away and forcing his voice to stay steady. “I returned after coming of age while away to find that Xornoth had fled and I was now the heir of Rivendell. Which absolutely no one wanted.”

“Why not? You’re amazing!” Jimmy protests. He sounds so very sincere about it, which makes it all the more heartbreaking how utterly wrong he is.

“Remember when I told you that I’m not a very elven elf? That. I’m too human for their tastes, spend too much of my time with humans.”

“Well, I think you’re wonderful.”

Scott squeezes his hand tight, letting a little of his fondness show. “Thank you, Jimmy. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Something like confusion flashes across Jimmy’s face, and then he opens his mouth again. “Wait. Scott?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Did you give me an elven ring of power for an engagement ring?”

Scott looks away again, his cheeks heating up. “….Maybe.”

“Me! You gave me, little old Jimmy Solidarity, an elven ring of power?” JImmy’s half-laughing, but the sentiment behind the words sounds real. Too real, Scott thinks; it’s as if Jimmy doesn’t know just how incredible he truly is.

“You’re the most precious thing in my life,” Scott tells him, and he means every word. “I gave you everything I could offer.”

It’s kind of adorable how quickly Jimmy flushes, his face going red and his voice rising an octave. “Stop that!”

“Stop what?” Scott asks- perfectly innocently, mind you.

“Saying that stuff and giving me that look, you know what I mean!” He definitely doesn’t. “That soft one that- that makes me all blushy and stuttery!” Jimmy adds, and Scott grins a little. Jimmy’s just too fun to fluster.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he denies, though he’s sure his smile is giving him away as less innocent than he claims.

“I’m trying to scold you for giving me a ring of power that’s super important, stop- stop flirting, for goodness sake!”

“You’re hot when you’re flustered, though.” Scott barely restrains a yawn from slipping into his voice, trying to wipe some of the blood off his face so it’ll stop getting in his eyes.

“Let me get that,” Jimmy offers. Scott’s too tired to protest his fussing, letting Jimmy dab at the cut with a wet rag and bandage it. Jimmy moves on to cleaning out smaller cuts and scrapes, then the bruises, handing Scott some ice to put on the largest ones. It’s sweet, really, how fussed he is over even the smallest injury. Scott doesn’t think he deserves Jimmy taking care of him this gently, but he can’t bring himself to push him away.

Even if it is a bit annoying that Jimmy’s making him do math to check if he has a concussion. “Ninety-two, ninety-one, I swear I’m fine, Jimmy,” Scott huffs, “Ninety, eighty-nine, eighty-eight, eighty-seven, I literally explained elven rings of power to you, eighty-six, eight-five, can I stop counting now?”

“No.”

“Jimmyyyyyyyy.” Scott must sound like a whiny child, but he’s tired.

“Just a bit more? For me?” Jimmy asks. And oh, that bastard, he’s giving Scott the face that Scott can’t ever say no to. Bastard. Absolute bastard. Scott won’t give in, he won’t.

That determination lasts all of ten seconds before Scott sighs and gives in. “Fine. Eighty-four, eighty-three, eighty-two…”

Jimmy makes him count all the way down to seventy and then multiply together thirteen and twelve, which Scott doesn’t hesitate to whine about

“I can’t believe my own husband made me do math.”

Jimmy’s laughter is worth every second of the math, actually, Scott decides as his husband bops him on the nose. “I’ll make breakfast to make up for it?”

“You better!” Scott tells him. He’s trying to sound affronted, but it just comes out fond, much to his exasperation.

Jimmy laughs again and sets about making pancake batter, which Scott doesn’t hesitate to steal bits of even when Jimmy scolds him for it. It’s peaceful, being able to lean back in his chair and laugh when his husband tries to scold him for flirting. The morning light streams in through his window, casting the side of Jimmy’s face in a golden glow, He looks so alive silhouetted like that, a grin splitting his face and bits of flour in his hair. Scott’s breath catches for a minute just looking at him, the familiar ache in his chest returning, though there’s nothing truly tragic about the scene before him.

He shakes that off when Jimmy offers him the first pancake, shoving thoughts of the future aside. For now, he’ll drink hot chocolate in a sunlit kitchen and pretend his hands don’t tremble just enough to nearly spill it. He’s not going to think about the cuts and bruises scattered across his body, not when Jimmy is looking at him like that, with such utter adoration that Scott can barely believe his luck. How did he get a husband so sweet and warm when he’s as bitterly cold as a Rivendell winter? But whether he deserves it or not, Jimmy’s right there laughing along with him, and Scott can’t find it in himself to be unhappy about it.

This won’t last, he thinks as he watches Jimmy try to fit an entire pancake in his mouth just to see if he can. If Jimmy doesn’t die to his own idiocy or the cruel will of Xornoth, time will take him from Scott as surely as the stars shine above Rivendell. Scott is not Luthien or Idril or Arwen, the elven royals lucky enough to spend the rest of eternity with their mortal husbands; Jimmy will die, likely sooner rather than later, and Scott will be alone with the cold weight of a crown to bear and no sunshine to warm him.

This won’t last, but Scott says nothing of it, sipping his hot chocolate and smiling a little sadly into the mug as Jimmy rambles about different types of fish and their personalities. And if his hands are still cold, and he can’t stop a small shiver? Well, Rivendell has always been a cold empire, hasn’t it?

#scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #elf ocs #empires smp #flower husbands

[4stars-uswnt]

Wonder What it’s Like to Be Loved by You [Emily Sonnett x Reader]

requested by anon: Sonnett writes a song about the reader ( we know she is that talented ) and some teammates hear sonny mumbling it so they make a plan to make sonnett confess her love for r and maybe using the song

A/N: Thank you for this request! I drew inspiration from @icouldneverreallysing​’s Wonder, so please go check out their work!! Also lol this takes place in a world where Emily is still on the Thorns bc let’s be honest, that’s where she belongs.

**also i highly HIGHLY recommend listening to the cover that i linked below because it’s so good and i think it really adds to the story :))

Listen to “Wonder” by Shawn Mendes here

Listen to an acoustic cover here (this is what I envision what Emily’s version sounded like)

Emily Sonnett was currently sitting at the dinner table, lost in her thoughts, as she watched you watched you giggle to a joke Kelley had made. The blonde defender had a tiny crush on you ever since you’d been traded to the Thorns a couple of months ago. Immediately, you and Emily had clicked, having the same sense of humor and same interests. Your kindness and sincerity had Emily absolutely smitten, but she was too nervous to say anything.

Now, almost three months later, as she admires you from across the room, Emily is still harboring her crush. Instead of voicing her feelings, she’d decided to write them in a song. Seeing your infectious smile sparks something within the blonde, who instantly pulls out her phone to type out some lyrics, so she doesn’t forget them.

“Whatcha up to?” Lindsey sets her plate down, dropping into the chair next to her best friend.

“Nothing.” Emily quickly shuts off her phone, scrambling to put the device back in her pocket. “Just checking the feed.”

“Okay.” Lindsey draws out, giving her a weird look, before taking a bite of her food. Brushing Emily’s weird behavior off, the midfielder begins to make conversation, as they eat their dinner.

On the other side of the room, where you sat at a table with Kelley, Christen, Alex, Allie, and Tobin, you were sparing quick glances over where Emily sat. Noticing your attention was elsewhere, Kelley pauses her sentence, snapping her fingers in front of your face.

“(Y/N), you with me?”

You’re pulled out of your thoughts, turning to the older woman, as you nod your head. “Yup.”

“Really?” She asks sarcastically, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at you. “So what did I just say?”

You try to track your brain, but you really weren’t paying attention. “Ummm a new smoothie recipe?”

“Good one, but no.” Kelley chuckles. “What’s on your mind, (Y/N/N)?”

“Nothing. I’m just a little tired.” And you weren’t necessarily lying, as the team had had training and fitness testing earlier that day. But Kelley, who knew you pretty well from your time in Utah, could see right through you.

“Mhmm, right.” She draws out. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain blonde defender.”

Your eyes widen and a faint blush arises on your cheeks. “What? No.” You see Christen, who you’d also become really close with, smirking, a knowing a look on her face.

“Whatever you say, (Y/N/N).” Kelly sings, going back to talking about whatever she’d been rambling on previously.

You find your eyes wandering across the room, landing back on Emily, only to find her already staring at you. The two of you lock eyes, and you give her a soft smile, which she quickly returns.

What are these feelings you’re having?

—————

The next day at training, as you’re racing down the sideline to send in a cross, Emily bodies you, poking the ball away as well as knocking you to the ground.

“Emmm,” you whine from your spot on the ground, “that’s a foul.”

“I didn’t hear any whistle.” Emily smirks, as she grabs your hands, pulling you up.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. I’ll get you next time.” You roll your eyes, playfully pushing her away.

“I look forward to it.” The defender winks, as she dramatically falls to one side from your push. You chuckle under your breath, shaking your head.

Emily can’t help but admire you, as you jog away, smiling fondly at your interaction that just took place. Making her way back into position, she starts muttering out some words, finally having found the perfect chorus to complete her song.

—————

On the bus, on the way back to the hotel, Emily was nodding her head and humming a tune, as she typed the remaining lyrics into her notes.

“What is this I hear about you having a crush on (Y/N)?” Lindsey quietly asks, as she slides into her seat.

You had also become extremely close with Lindsey when you’d arrived in Portland, and even closer when you’d gotten called up to the national team. The two of you having a different relationship than you and Emily, one that was more sisterly.

“What are you talking about?” The freckled woman exclaims, putting her phone down.

“Christen was telling me that she thought there was something going on between the two of you. Kelley also told me she’s caught you staring on multiple occasions.” At that, Emily feels her face warm. “So do you like her?”

“No!” She denies.

Lindsey gives her best friend a pointed glare. “Really? Because I’ve spent enough time with the both of you, separately and together, to know there’s definitely something going on.”

“Ok, so maybe I have a little crush on her.” Emily admits, mumbling under her breath.

The midfielder squeals and claps her hands together. “Oh my gosh! You have to tell her!”

“What? Linds, no, I can’t.” Sonnett adamantly insists, shaking her head.

“Why not?”

“Because what if she doesn’t feel the same way? And then it would just be awkward and our friendship would be completely ruined.”

“But what if she does feel the same way?” Lindsey gently challenges, resting her hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Isn’t love worth the risk?”

For the rest of the bus ride, Emily thinks about what Lindsey said, her mind running in all sorts of directions.

Should she tell you about her feelings? Would you even feel the same way?

—————

Later that evening, after dinner, majority of the USWNT crowded into Kelley and Lindsey’s hotel room for team bonding. Conversation was flowing amongst the women with music softly playing in the background, as they waited for the rest of the group to show up, including you, Mal, Rose, and Abby.

As she’s listening to the end story Ali was telling, Emily starts humming the tune of the song she had written, as it was stuck in her head after working on it all afternoon after training.

“What song is that?” Kelley tilts her head.

“Uhh, just one I’d heard on the radio earlier.” The younger defender shrugs nonchalantly.

“Really? I’ve never heard it before.”

“Yeah, Em, I heard you humming that same tune earlier on the bus.” Lindsey pipes up. By now the rest of the women have turned their attention to Sonnett, interested in the conversation and this mystery song.

“Umm,” Emily scratches the back of her neck nervously, “it’s a song that I wrote.”

“What?!” The entire room bursts, absolutely shocked, and Emily shrinks under the blaring attention.

“Wait,” Lindsey narrows her eyes at her best friend, connecting the dots in her head, “was that what you were doing on your phone this morning?”

Before Emily can respond, Kelley jumps in. “Oh my gosh! That was when you and (Y/N) were exchanging heart eyes!”

“We weren’t exchanging heart eyes.” The younger woman murmurs under her breath, but no one hears her, too busy trying to catch up on the news that two of their youngsters have feelings for each other.

As Kelley quickly catches the team up, Christen finally connects all the pieces. “You wrote a song about slash for (Y/N)?”

This caused all conversation to halt, the women’s attention once again falling on the blonde defender.

“Maybe.” She squeaks, visibly cringing.

“Quick, show us before she gets here!” Megan motions, practically bouncing in her seat.

“What? No!”

“C’monnnnnn, Sonny.” Ashlyn whines, many of your teammates nodding their heads eagerly. “Pleeeeaaaassseeeee.”

“Fine, I’ll show you,” Emily relents, pulling up the note on her phone, “but I’m not singing. You guys can just read it yourselves.”

Kelley immediately snatches the phone, scanning the words, the other women reading it over her shoulder.

“Em, you have to show this to (Y/N).” Alex insists, as she finishes reading the lyrics.

“Ooo! Or even sing it to her!” Kelley suggests enthusiastically, returning the phone.

“No! I can’t do that.” Emily adamantly shakes her head.

Before they could convince her otherwise, the women heard a voice speak up.

“Hey guys. Sorry we’re late.” You plop down on the foot of the crowded bed. “What are we looking at?” You curiously tilt your head, noticing your teammates’s all crowded around something.

“Nothing!” Emily quickly answers, cutting off whatever Kelley or Megan had up their sleeves.

“Um, okayyy.” You eye suspiciously at her weird behavior. “So, what do you guys have planned for team bonding?” You turn your attention to some of the veterans, bouncing excitedly.

“Hmm, maybe some games and movies.” Alex shrugs.

As the evening goes on, and the team participates in several bonding activities and watches a couple episodes of FRIENDS, many of the women are preoccupied, thinking of a way to get the blonde defender to sing her song to you and confess her feelings.

“Alright,” you yawn, as the credits start rolling, “I’m gonna head back to my room.”

“Wow, (Y/N), last to arrive and first to leave. Lameeee.” Megan boos.

“I know, I know, sorry, but I told my mother I’d call her some time tonight.” You smile sheepishly at your teammates, as you make your way to the door. “G’night, guys.”

“Night, (Y/N)!” The women call out after you.

Once you had left the room, Julie shuts off the TV, as the team crowds around Sonnett once again.

“We’ve devised a plan for you to sing your song and finally tell (Y/N) how you feel.” Ash smirks mischievously.

“Guys, I already told you: it’s not gonna happen.” Emily sighs, rolling her eyes.

“C’mon, Em. Remember what I said on the bus?” Lindsey gives her friend a pointed look. “Besides, the song you wrote is actually really good; she deserves to hear it.”

“Plus, a little birdie told me (Y/N/N) might have a teeny tiny crush on you, maybe.” Kelley adds, gesturing with her fingers just how ‘teeny tiny’ your crush was.

“Emily, seriously, what’s the worst thing that could happen?” Ali gently rests her hand on the younger defender’s shoulder.

“She could reject me, laugh in my face, and tell me she doesn’t wanna be friends anymore.” The blonde exasperates, throwing her hands in the air.

“Sonny, you know (Y/N) is too nice to do anything like that.” Christen assures, playfully rolling her eyes. “Besides, even if she didn’t like you romantically, which I’m pretty sure she does, (Y/N) would never not wanna be friends with you.” The rest of the women nod along, voicing their agreement.

“You just gotta take the leap, Em.” Tobin says like it’s the simplest thing in the world, and maybe it was.

After a moment of contemplation, Emily takes a deep breath. “Okay, fine. So what’s the plan?”

The entire room burst out into cheers and claps, grinning knowingly at each other, as they spill their schemes to the younger woman.

Would this work?

—————

The next morning, after breakfast and before the team meeting, while some of the team was corralling you downstairs, Emily was pacing a hole at the front of one of the hotel conference rooms.

“Son, calm down.” Ashlyn sets her hands on the defender’s shoulders. “You’re making me dizzy.”

“Sorry, I’m just a little nervous.” Emily mumbles, shaking her head, as if she could shake off the nerves.

“A little?” Megan snorts, looking up from her phone. The goalie looks over her shoulder and gives the pink-haired woman a stern glare; not helping she mouths.

“Look,” Ash turns back to the younger woman, “you’re gonna sing this awesome song you wrote, you’re gonna kill it, and you’re gonna get the girl.”

Emily nods her head, letting out a nervous chuckle, as she goes back to pacing back and forth, earning many eye rolls from her teammates.

Meanwhile, Kelley, Christen, and Tobin were knocking on your door.

“Oh, hey, guys.” You greet, a confused look written on your face. “What’s up? I thought the meeting wasn’t until 11?”

“It’s not,” Tobin shrugs, “but we wanted to show you something.”

“What is it?” You pull on a hoodie, before stepping out into the hall, closing the door behind you.

“Well, if we told you, that would ruin the surprise, now wouldn’t it?” Christen points out, a teasing smirk playing across her face.

“There’s a surprise for me?” Your eyes widen, excitement seeping through your voice.

The older women chuckle at your enthusiasm, nodding their heads.

“Yup,” Kelley pops, “c’mon, let’s go.” She turns on her heels and leads you downstairs.

—————

As the four of you arrive at the doors of the conference room, Kelley steps in front of you, blocking your entrance.

“Ok, now close your eyes.”

“Kelley, what the heck? What is going on?” You roll your eyes. After fifteen minutes of aimlessly following them around the hotel, you were somewhat frustrated at this point.

“Just do it, (Y/N).” Christen gently coaxes from behind you.

You huff out a sigh and close your eyes. You hear one of the doors open, before you feel Kelley carefully guiding you to walk into the room.

Hearing the door shut behind you, you call out to them. “Guys?” With no response, you open your eyes and see Emily standing at the front of the room, a guitar in her hand.

“Em?” You furrow your brows, utterly confused as to what is going on.

“Uh, hey.” She shifts her weight, waving awkwardly.

“What’s going on?” You ask, as you approach her. “Kelley, Tobin, and Christen said there was some sort of surprise?”

“Well, yeah, um— they, well the whole team actually, helped me plan this.” Emily stutters, nervously scratching her neck. “I have something for you.” She motions for you to take a seat, so you pull up one of the chairs and sit down, awaiting for her next move.

“So, I—uh — wrote this song, and um, it’s for you, and yeah, I’ll just play it.” Emily mumbles, before strumming the guitar.

You intently watch your best friend play the opening chords, and you can’t help your heart from fluttering in your chest, as you hear her melodious voice.

I wonder if I’m being real

Do I speak my truth or do I filter how I feel?

I wonder, wouldn’t it be nice

To live inside a world that isn’t black and white?

As Emily sings along to the guitar, you watch the woman before you in awe, carefully listening to each word, ensuring you catch each and every one of them and their meaning. You find yourself relating to the lyrics, knowing what it was like having to conceal your feelings for your friend.

I wonder what it’s like to be my friends

Hope that they don’t think I forget about them

I wonder, I wonder

Emily finally looks up, locking eyes with you, before starting the chorus, in which she’d spill out her heart.

Right before I close my eyes

The only thing that’s on my mind

Been dreamin’ that you feel it too

I wonder what it’s like to be loved by you, yeah

I wonder what it’s like

I wonder what it’s like to be loved by

Emily feels a soft smile break out across her face, as she sees your still sitting there, a grin on your own face. You could feel yourself becoming emotional listening to the song, tears building up.

I wonder why I’m so afraid

Of saying something wrong and never said I was a saint

And I wonder if someday you’ll be by my side

And tell me that the world will end up alright I wonder, I wonder

By now, the blonde had stepped closer to you, officially serenading you at this point. She slowly stops strumming the guitar, allowing her voice alone to echo throughout the room and convey her raw emotions.

Right before I close my eyes

The only thing that’s on my mind

Been dreamin’ that you feel it too

I wonder what it’s like to be loved by you.

The last word sounds in the empty room, as Emily finishes the song. A heavy silence takes over, the two of you staring at each other, tears and love filling your eyes.

You slowly stand from your chair and step closer to the other woman, one of your hands reaching for hers and the other cupping her cheek. You search Emily’s face for any sign for you to stop, and when you don’t see any, you lean in closer, bringing your lips together.

It was a chaste kiss, but it was sweet and full of passion, communicating the hidden love the two of you had had.

You pull away and bite your lip. “I’ve been wondering the same thing, Em, what it’s like to be loved by you.”

“Really?” She lets out a water laugh.

You nod, caressing her cheek. “I like you.”

“I like you too. Like a lot. If you couldn’t tell.” Emily jokes, still staring at you with complete adoration.

“Who knew you could be so romantic?” You grin with a playful smirk.

“I try.” She shrugs, causing a giggle to erupt from your mouth. Emily smiles at you and tucks a loose hair behind your ear, as she shakes her head. “I really like you, (Y/N).”

You bring her in for another kiss, your arms resting on her shoulders, as hers wrap around your waist. Before it could get too heated, you hear a thudding noise coming from outside the door behind you.

The two of you pull away and look suspiciously at where the noise was coming from. As you approach the door, you can hear muffled whispering from the other side.

“Can you hear anything?”

“No, now shhh, I’m trying to listen.”

You roll your eyes, recognizing your teammates’ voices. As you open the door, the entire USWNT piles in, Kelley, Tobin, and Christen, who were leaning against the door, falling onto the floor.

“Oh, hey guys, what are you up to?” Kelley stumbles to her feet, dusting herself off.

You quirk your eyebrows at the older woman. “Really, Kel?”

“What?” She looks at you with faux innocence. Once she realizes you’ve definitely caught on, Kelley deflates. “Alright, fine, you caught us. But we just wanted to know what was gonna happen.”

“Yeah, we had to make sure Sonny stuck to the plan.” Megan explains, nodding seriously.

“So did it work?” Ash calls out from the back of the group.

You lightly chuckle at your teammates and reach out to grab Emily’s hand. “I’d say so.” You nod, running your thumb across the blonde’s knuckles.

The rest of the woman beam, clapping and hollering with excitement, and you can hear Kelley yelling, “Woohoo, our plan worked!”

You fondly shake your head and the woman’s childish antics. Feeling Emily squeeze your hand, you turn to look at the woman you’ve started falling in love with.

“I’m still wondering what it’s like to be loved by you.” She teases, rubbing her nose against yours.

“Well, I’ll guess you’ll just have to wait and see.” You throw back at her with a sly smirk. “Tomorrow at 7?”

Emily gives your cheek a chaste kiss. “I look forward to it.”

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #emily sonnett x reader #emily sonnett imagine #emily sonnett imagines #uswnt #emily sonnett