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#and whenever i try to explain my real time thought process to anyone they always ask me how i jump from one thing to another
puppyeared · 2 years
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transfemlogan · 6 months
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plz teach me how to start writing smth /silly
i want to write a fic but idk how to start lol
-rauberrauber
I WILL TELL U MY WRITING PROCESS (BADLY EXPLAINED) @rauberrauber
STEP ONE: THE IDEA PHASE !!!
Come up w/ an idea & then write it down like. Halfassedly. Like my current fic was written down as "Logan transforms in2 a wolf on a full moon & virgil stays w/ him & makes a potion or whatever 2 keep the pain away & then he just turns in2 a dogy" (exact quote) & then was added onto 2 make my outline
This is my current outline (censored just so you guys dont. Get spoiled 4 everything that happens in the fic HEHDKDN) its just a lot of like rambling, trying 2 get everything in ordsr
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REVYS TIP: MAKE SURE YOU ARE DAY DREAMING ABOUT YOUR IDEA NONSTOP. /silly whenever I try to write something when I haven't thought about how it'll go while I'm doing a chore or listening to music or falling asleep, the idea will never ever come out bcuz I have no idea what I'm even trying to do.
STEP TWO: THE PLANNING PHASE !!
Start planning ! I use Notion 2 organise everything, but i used 2 use my notes app 4 the longest time (& sometimes still do if I am too lazy to open my computer).
I write down a basic summary of my plot, how many chapters there are if its a chaptered fic, the characters & relationships, a timeline if its needed, a to-do list (ex. Research [insert thing], give the characters last names, create the timeline, etc), a list of what I need 2 research (& then keeping track of everything I research), title ideas, world building, etc etc
My planning phase is like... A Lot of work bcuz i really like to plan! It is my favourite part of any creative work i do, bcuz there is something wrong w/ me /j /silly.
This is sort of what my notion page looks like for "To The Tune Of Your Death". I also have a page for character info, like pronouns & ages & genders & races & relationships w/ each other, & two separate timelines with exact years and days (bcuz it is very much needed 4 this entire au). One for the main fic timeline (like when Janus dies and when Logan and Virgil start dating) AND one for background information (like their parents divorces, bcuz it unforrunately relates to the fic)
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REVYS TIP: DO NOT GET SCARED BY HOW MUCH PLANNING I DO. it is entirely a me thing. I have yet to meet anyone who plans as much as I do & enjoys it like I do.
STEP THREE: THE WRITING PHASE !!
Note: the writing & planning phase overlay each other A Lot. You are going to start writing & then pause 2 keep planning or u will be planning & realise you need to start writing to Continue to plan. This is very normal, esp if ur researching for a disability or a race— you will not do research One Time & know everything immediately.
START WRITING!!! I always have like 7-10 drafts & I'm usually rewriting as I write. I use CalmyWriter to write on my computer and then I transfer it to discord so I can have it on my phone. I also use my notes apps a lot of the time! Bcuz its easy to just write on my phone anywhere than wait 2 use my laptop. I avoid google docs, simply bcuz i absolutely hate google docs (& it usually lags real bad 4 me)
(I do however transfer everything to google docs once I am done, bcuz i like 2 share my fics w/ ppl who want 2 beta!)
When I start my first draft (which u will always have a first draft) I am not at all focused on grammar, spelling, or "good writing", I'm focused on getting the idea down & the basic flow of events & following my outline (unless it needs to be revised). Literally my first drafts are so awful & thats the point.
Its usually very like (example): Virgil walked to the store and he bought this. [Insert what he bought as it relates to what he will be doing later] logan said hi to him he is blushing & gay. They arw talking. [Skip kissing scene] janus dies yayyy yippee
Thats what my 1st drafts r like. & then either once I am done, or while I am writing, I'll start revising. I will go back and rewrite scenes or add scenes in or move stuff around. Sometimes I have my 1st draft side by side with my revision & sometimes I go off memory
& once I am done w/ my revision... I do it all over again. & then again. & then I keep doing that until its finished.
I always keep my sketchbook & a pen/pencil by me while I am writing, incase I need to make a quick note of something for later or if I need to sketch out a layout of somehing (for example, I stopped to layout Virgil's witchcraft/office room while writing tge analogical fic)
STEP FOUR: UM. THE REST... OF IT ALL PHASE !!
I title my fic (if it hasnt been titled already), I create a summary for AO3, I send it out for my friends who want to beta, I reread it like 50 times & go "wow I am so good at writing", I create drafts on tumblr & ao3 and make sure its tagged correctly & the correct ppl r @ ed if i had a taglist of some sort etc etc
Any of my fics (or art) that you see get posted, were 100% in my drafts for like 3 hrs b4 they were posted bcuz i kept going through it and making sure everything is good (esp bcuz i cross post on tumblr & ao3)
& that is... pretty much my entire writing process broken down.
I think one of the scariest parts of starting to write for me personally was the first draft part. I always felt like it needed to be good IMMEDIATELY or else i wasnt being a "good writer". But most, if not all, writers dont start off "writing good", they start off with a shitty rough draft. & then keep revising & rewriting.
The best advice i have ever seen was "just start it", bcuz if ur so caught up on writing well, nothing will ever get done. Just GO START IT RIGHT NOW GO QUICKLY RUN!!!!!! RUN !!!!!!!!!!!!! WRITE !!!!!!!!
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uhbasicallyjustmilex · 8 months
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Hellooo my lovely! 💖💫I am here to distract you! If you're up for it, I'd love to hear your answers to the gold obsidian egg and van gogh tapestry questions of that writing ask game you reblogged? 👀 Sending lots of love and good thoughts your way!!! 💛💛💛
hiii lovely 😘 why are you always just the absolute sweetest?? 🥺💞
gold obsidian egg: what do you treasure the most about your wip?
ooooh i had to reflect on this, because although i absolutely treasure writing four walls, i'd never really paused and tried to distil into words exactly why! i think there are probably two main things:
1) escapism - i love being able to completely immerse myself in characters and a world that feels so vividly real to me, and the safety/freedom of exploring the complexity and wonder of relationships and connection in such a safe space 💗
2) world view - this is going to be harder to explain, but i'm going to try 😅 whenever i write something, i get really immersed in the headspace of my protagonist - like to the point where i'm going about my daily life i'll find myself thinking about the way they'd experience the same environment that i'm in, almost get like - little flashes of being them?? eg, when i'm out walking and i feel my keys in my pocket, it's like for a split second i'm alex in four walls with his little set of miles's keys (i probably sound insane 😭). that's always been a feature of my writing process, but i feel like i've been able to connect to alex in this fic more vividly than i've ever connected with a protagonist before, and i've just absoltuely loved the process of immersing myself in his headspace and trying to view/describe the world in the way i imagine he might. and idk, putting myself in someone else's headspace also just constantly gets me to reflect on the experience of how different situations/emotions/internal thought processes really feel which is something i find endlessly fascinating.
it probably sounds ridiculous, but it's actually changed the way i view so many everyday things around me - like there are things i notice differently or didn't notice before from spending so much time in his headspace. also, writing in a way that i imagine might be how alex in four walls would think feels like it's just opened up new gateways for me in my writing and the way i use language.
god sorry, that was a very long and rambly answer and god knows if it even makes any sense to anyone who isn't me - in short: there is a lot that i treasure about my wip 💜
van gogh tapestry: do you create from any specific emotion? what drives you?
oh wow, this is such a good question. in terms of what drives me - i honestly don't really know, i've just always written and always have a drive to create characters and worlds through that particular medium. i genuinely don't feel like me if i'm not writing something. but i think also it comes from a drive for deep (and safe) emotional connection - and that's something that comes from my connection with the characters i'm writing, their connection with each other, and the connection i have with the people who're reading it too.
i've always been someone who feels things very deeply, so i think i'm quite largely driven by a desire to express the emotions i maybe don't get the opportunity to or feel to big to in real life. i'm not sure if there's any specific emotion that drives me - i think it's more just that sense of feeling everything so poignantly that does. for four walls though, i do feel like i drew particularly on the emotions of belonging and pining. i also notice that i always write best when i'm in a state where i'm feeling things particularly poignantly, even when those feelings can be quite negative or challenging ones - i don't know why, but that's usually when i feel like i connect best with my writing.
okay that's enough before i go off on a whole other tangent 🤦‍♀️ these answers have ended up being way more in depth than i'd anticipated - anyone who's read this has really ended up with quite the little glimpse into my psyche 😅
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lettersbyanne · 1 year
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To my greatest experience of my 2022
T,
Time passes by so quickly, isn't? I didn't realize how this "happy crushing" would go for a year now. It was an amazing feeling I've felt after quite some time. To be honest, I was just suppose to admire you from afar since I was still scared. Scared of actually entering a new relationship.
But with all the things I've seen, on and off stream, you made me want to try. You made me able to breathe again. It was silly, I know. Flirting through chats, in this godfosaken internet thing. I know it made me look like I was a typical Filipino who makes everything a dating app but believe me when I said that I really did like you. My feelings were real, and it might seem really unbelievable 'cause we haven't met yet but I was sure of liking you, 'cause if I weren't, my bones wouldn't have this chattering sound like they're about to break whenever you reply to my messages.
You don't have to worry, though. I wasn't at the point where I'm falling because I knew, I knew from the start that things between us will never accelerate. From the way you reply, down to the way you treat me, I knew. But I didn't like having second thoughts nor what ifs. I don't like having regrets especially to you, who have shown me that my standards can really exist from this ever changing world.
So before I completely move forward in life, I want you to know the things that have made me like you. You're grateful and appreciative, remember the first time we talked? You thanked me for something so little that I did. You're so patient. You've listened to all the things I've explained, even gave me assurance that I wasn't invading your personal space. You don't get mad so easily. I know, I've done a lot of stupid things that might have caused misunderstandings. Esp your birth month, until now, it makes me cry that you've actually accepted such selfish request from me and even shutting your mouth when your friends and the viewers begun teasing you about it. I've put you onto a lot of awkward situation that you could have reprimanded me—but you didn't and I know it's because you are so kind that you didn't wanna hurt anyone else in the process and instead, have shut yourself out. You don't entertain anyone else. I really liked that part about you it made me think that you're loyal. I've heard a lot from Anya, Juno and Jeus, and they all speak great things about you. How you don't talk to anyone that may have romantic feelings for you—even to me. It just shows how you didn't wanna give false hope or make them expect something from you and I think that it's cool. I also like your deep voice, how you're so talented with a lot of instruments, esp piano. How pretty your hands are. How you love your furbabies. How you also watches anime. I like your long hair, your dead dad jokes, how you always share things on stream out of the blue. How calm you can be whenever you play games. How you can be silly and naughty at times. I like your name the most, Thomas Michael. Tomy.
I could have go on and talk all the things that I've liked about you in the past year but I might hear you say, "it's so long." So to end things, I wanna say sorry. Sorry that I've invaded your personal space too much. To all the awkward situation I've put you in. I also wanna thank you. Thank you for letting me like you. My 2022 have become so much brighter that it made me forget that I was grieving. Thank you for being so nice, appreciative and entertaining. You were so good to me. Too good to be mine but know that I won't ever regret liking you. You may have gloomy existence most of the time but you were like an star on a cold-winter day of mine, who gave me chills to my bones and lit a light from my dead existence. It might never have gone on what I have in mind but you were my greatest experience of my 2022. I'm ready to love someone else who's not you and I do hope, I wish, I pray, that you'll find yours too.
love, Juju.
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sytortuga · 2 years
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Final sacrifice (Chapter 11)
Din finally remembers what happened in Sorgan and Omera admits some truths that he may not be ready to handle! ^^
Posted on AO3 on the following link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38372269/chapters/97135575
Comments are always very appreciated! 😁
Final sacrifice
General synopsis: AU universe, in which removing your helmet is punished by death if the members of the covert esteem it so. Otherwise all canon compliant until E16 “The Rescue”, where Skywalker doesn’t show up but Din fights the Dark Troopers with the Darksaber. Din and Grogu, together, they find the covert, mostly as occurs in E5 of TBOBF. This fanfic takes off from where Din accepts Paz’s duel for the DarkSaber.
Relationships: Mando x Omera
Characters: Din Djarin, Grogu, Omera, Winta. Eventually Cara, Fennec, Boba Fett
Warnings: references to child abuse, violence against children, medical procedures, brain injury.
Link to chapter 10
Link to chapter 12
 During the upcoming days, Din insisted on walking up and down the corridors of the palace. His leg muscles were still extremely weak, and would often fail him, causing him occasionally to fall or at least stumble. His shortness of breath didn’t help reassuring anyone, but he still insisted on exercising and he would spend as much time as he could on his feet.
Omera took it on herself to accompany him during his walks despite his various requests to be let wander on his own. He didn’t need to be physically supported, at least not continuously, and Omera made sure to help only when he risked falling. She knew he risked nothing within the walls of the palace, but she couldn’t get herself to leave him be alone. She kept wondering if his request of being left alone to exercise came more from the habit of being alone or a real wish of being on his own. The truth was, she didn’t have the courage to ask and decided to continue being present for him as long as he didn’t openly ask her to leave.
They would often walk in silence, each comfortable within their own thoughts. But whenever they exchanged some words, always about some mundane thing, Din’s expression would soften, abandoning for a brief moment the clear effort and pain that walking caused, and that lit up Omera’s heart each time.
After one of their walks, they came back to Din’s room to find the medical droid standing, clearly waiting for his patient.
-“Din Djarin”, it commenced. “A scan of your brain and heart is required to assess the progress of your recovery”.
Din lifted one eyebrow as if uncertain on how to react.
-“Proceed to lie down so I can initiate my assessment”.
After some hesitation and Omera’s encouragement he complied with the droid, which was quick to start scanning with a mediscan both his heart and head. Omera saw how Din remained stoically and with eyes closed during the process, and wondered if he was truly okay with the process or if it was just a coping mechanism to remain calm. After a couple of minutes, the droid gave its evaluation.
-“Your improvement is advancing at a much lower rhythm than expected. A third bacta session is recommended. I will show you to the bacta tank.”
-“That won’t be necessary”, stepped in Omera trying again to win him some droid-free time. “I will take him”.
Din nodded and they moved to the room holding the tank.
-“Get yourself ready and undress. I will go find the child in the meantime”.
Din looked at her questioningly, unsure as to why the child would need, or even want, to be present.
-“He’s been by your side at each session. Let him be here for you this time as well. I promise I will explain everything in due time.”
Before he could change his mind, Omera turned to the door determined to find Grogu.
---
When she came back, baby securely in her arms, Din was already in his black shorts and inside the tank, which was filling progressively with the bacta solution. He had just enough time to greet the kid by putting his hand on the tank’s window and put the regulator in his mouth before his face was covered with the liquid. Giving in to the treatment, after a brief moment he closed his eyes.
Omera recovered her position at the chair that she had installed next to the tank. After a while trying to keep the child moderately entertained with some lap playing, to Omera’s regret, Din’s nightmares were at rendez-vous. The child cooed sadly, but Omera saw the determination in his eyes, wanting nothing more than to help his buir once again. She offered him her hand and Grogu put his other hand on the tank’s window. As the kid closed his eyes, the room around her faded away.
Next thing she knew she was walking through the forest. She recognized those trees, she was in Sorgan. She was surprised to see the big blue Mandalorian walking casually next to her. She could see her own –Din’s– boots, progressing through the forest.
-“I know we haven’t had the best of relationships, but know I hate this as much as you do”, she heard the big Mandalorian say. After a brief silence, during which she could only focus on the sound of the dry leaves under the Mandalorians’ boots, the man continued.
-“My father… he didn’t hate you as much as you think, you know? He just…”
-“Save it, Vizsla” Omera clearly heard Din’s modulated voice interrupt the blue armored man.  Vizsla, Omera thought. Wasn’t that the name she heard in the clans’ heads meeting? The one supposed to be in charge of rescuing Din as a child?
-“Let’s just get this over with” she heard Din continue.
Omera saw how they soon arrived at a clearing. To her horror, she realized it was where she had found the Mandalorian bleeding to death. The small ship the blue Mandalorian had left with was stationed in the middle. Her heart was racing. She couldn’t tell if it was Din’s or actually hers, knowing what she was about to witness. She needed to get out of there. She didn’t want to be there. Surely the child shouldn't be there. She thought that if she wished it strongly enough, she would somehow wake them up from the dream. But a presence was holding her tight, obliging her to stay.
-“Here we are”, the big man said.
She saw herself turn around to face the blue Mandalorian. After hearing a deep breath, she witnessed how Din stopped walking and slowly turned to face the other Mandalorian. After a brief moment, Din started removing with precision each of the pieces composing his armor, laying them in front of him with uttermost care and respect. Last came the helmet. Without the filter of the visor, her view changed dramatically, the intense light of the Sorgan sun nearly blinding her despite the trees. The colors were sharper, the greens of the leaves crisp and contrasting with the different shades of yellows and browns. Din sat on his heels in front of the big Mandalorian, and set helmet in front of him. He saw how the other man crouched as well, producing a glass in which he poured a transparent liquid.
-“Ceremonial Tihaar drinking, for purification”, the tall man said. “One sip for greed, three for hesitation” he said reverently.
Omera saw how Din’s gloved hands grabbed the glass.
-“One sip for greed”, he repeated while taking a sip from the glass. Omera felt how the drink burned it's way down Din's throat. “One for hesitation”, another sip. Omera saw that the other Mandalorian slightly tilted his head, probably astonished at Din changing what seemed the ritual's words. “One for the anger that has filled my heart over the years”, sip. “And one last one for the people I leave behind, that have seen past what I show to be and have seen me for who I really am”. And with that Din gulped down in one shot the remaining contents of his glass of Tihaar.
Omera felt Din grab something from his boot, and horrified, saw how he produced his vibroblade which he set respectfully in front of him with the now empty glass.
-“Grogu, lets please get out of here. Please, sweetheart, we need to stop now”, Omera said outloud. Or at least she thought she had said that outloud, but there was no sign that the nightmare was stopping or that they were getting out of Din’s head.
-“You broke the Creed, and willingly removed your helmet. The tribe has determined death to be your sentence” said the blue Mandalorian with a strong voice.
-“Through the Hokaanir epan, nobody except me is owner of my fate” she heard Din say. “I broke the Creed, removed my helmet. I did it for my foundling. It was The Way, the only Way to get him back from the hands of those who wished him bad”.
Omera, who was focusing through Din’s eyes on the vibroblade set in front of her, saw in the corner of her eyes Grogu’s small feet, approaching her. She knew that Grogu was not there at that moment, she was sure of that. He was interacting with Din through his nightmare. She saw the questioning look in the kid’s eyes. Did he really understand what was happening? She didn’t think so, and felt how he gently put his hand on one of Din’s thighs.
Omera saw Din’s hand grab the vibroblade.
-“Grogu! Please stop this. You have to stop right now, sweetheart” she told him. But she didn’t think her heard her. “GROGU! STOP! NOW!” she felt herself scream, but there was no reaction of the baby, who still looked up to Din questioningly.
She wanted so badly to close her eyes, avoid seeing the final sacrifice that this man was willing to undertake to honor the Creed he swore as a kid, while protecting the child he had learnt to love as his own.
And with one swift movement, Omera felt the sharp pain of the vibroblade sinking in the left side of Din's gut, and how it ripped through his abdomen all the way to the right side. Her gaze fell to her hands, Din’s hands, still holding the vibroblade lodged in the man’s gut.
She was able to look back at Grogu, now crying inconsolably while holding his arms high, as if he could have prevented what he just witnessed. She felt Din’s body tilting, losing balance despite sitting on his heels, and just as she was about to hit the ground, she found herself back in the back tank room.
Grogu was clearly in shock, eyes wide open, tears sliding down his tiny cheeks. The Mandalorian had woken up apparently at the same time they did, and was awake and thrashing uncontrollably within the tank, moving his right arm clearly fumbling for the button that would cancel the bacta session and release him from the tank. Before Omera could set down the baby to come and help Din, the bacta had already started to empty. Once she was sure that Grogu was safely on the floor, she helped the Mandalorian open the tank and get himself out. He was panting, having clear difficulty breathing. He sat on the edge of the tank trying to catch up his breath.
He saw Grogu, scared and slowly taking some steps backwards, away from his buir.
-“Hey kid”, he continued panting. “I’m sorry, I didn’t– I didn't mean to scare you. I was dreaming…”, he tried justifying. Omera doubted he knew that Grogu was aware of what he was dreaming about, rather what he was remembering.
Grogu’s expression changed from sadness and surprise to anger, and anger neither Omera or Din had seen before in the small child.
-“Pal?” he said questioningly, struggling to get up and approach the kid to reassure him.
To both Din and Omera's surprise, Grogu closed his eyes shut and with a sudden movement of one of his hands, used the force to send his father flying to the other side of the room. The Mandalorian's body hit the wall of the far end of the room with a loud thunk and he fell limply to the ground.
Before Omera could approach him, Grogu’s expression turned again to sadness, clearly regretting what he had just done. But just as the first of his new tears touched the ground, he turned around and started running for the door.
Omera run to the Mandalorian. She found him unconscious and unresponsive.
-“HELP!” she screamed.
She crouched next to the limp body of the man, which she took in her arms, rocking him gently while calling him, hoping that he would wake up before she could go and attend the baby.
-“HELP!” she screamed again when she got no response from Din.
The medical droid came in and, without requiring any further explanation, started to assess the man’s medical status.
-“Stay with him”, Omera ordered the droid. “I need to find the baby”.
---
Omera rushed out of the room and into the corridor, searching for the baby. She went back to their room, and saw Winta kneeling next to the bed.
-"Momma, the baby is under the bed, he's very upset, but he won't come out" Winta said worriedly.
-"It's okay, baby, you can come out now" said Omera sweetly while reaching out for him with her hand.
-"What happened, Momma?"
-"He got angry at the Mandalorian" she said, keeping things vague, with the sole purpose of protecting her own child. She actually didn't really have the time to think about what the child was feeling and what in particular triggered the anger he showed back in the room.
-"Grogu, sweetheart, come out with us" Omera tried again, reaching with her hand further under the bed. "We are both here for you, let's figure this out together, shall we?".
To her surprise, the child shyly reached for her hand and came out from under the bed. He was crying, and Omera and Winta both took him in a big hug. And for the first time, unlike the previous times when he cried in silence, she heard him actually sob.
Omera and the kids stayed like that, sitting on the floor, comforting Grogu until he calmed down. Winta would softly talk to him about the things Boba and Fennec had been telling her about life in Tatooine. Omera melted at the empathy that her daughter was showing, she felt her heart fill with pride, sure that Winta would grow to be a sweet yet strong beautiful woman. Unless, she couldn't help herself think, the galaxy's ruthlessness caught up with her. The thought made her shiver. She thought of how Din's life as a kid must have been before being taken by the Mandalorians. Did his parents think the same things she thought about Winta? A child, with a kind heart, one that she knew clearly remained though having to adapt to the culture and traditions of a cruel warrior culture.
A knock on the door interrupted her train of thought.
-"Come in" she said gently.
To her surprise, Din opened the door.
-"Din!" She said surprised. This caused Winta and Grogu to stop interacting and turn their gaze to the door.
-"Mind if I come in?"
Grogu shifted in Omera's lap, and she saw how the baby's expression lost all the appeasement he had gained, turning again to a mixture of sadness and anger.
-"Of course" she said out of politeness, keeping her gaze fixed on the child, trying her best to reassure him with gentle strokes on his back. Whatever was going on in the baby's head, he needed to sort it out with his father.
The Mandalorian approached them and knelt beside them.
Omera realized he had a dressing gauze on the back of his head, probably as a result of the incident with the child.
-"How are you feeling?"
-"It's not important," he said, keeping his gaze fixed on the child who was doing everything possible to not look his father in the eye. For a while they all remained silent.
-"How are you, pal?"
The kid, still in Omera's arms, kept his gaze away.
-"I remember now. Going to Sorgan". He started, sitting more comfortably next to the woman and children. "I remember… you showed me through the force what you wanted us to do together" he said with the shyest of smiles. "You think you can tell me in the same way what is going on?".
-"Come, Winta", said Omera. "Let's give them some space to talk".
She was about to get up, when the child grabbed her by one of her sleeves, imploring with his eyes for her to stay. Omera, surprised by the kid's reaction, looked at Din who responded with one single nod in approval. Omera still encouraged Winta to go look for Cara or Boba to see if she could be of any help to them. Winta, quickly understanding her mother's intentions, didn't fuss about it and left the room, which filled her mother again with pride.
The kid finally looked at his father, with angry tears filling his eyes. With no gentleness, he grabbed his father's hand. Din's eyes opened wide, letting Omera sense that he was being allowed to see what the kid wanted him to see.
-"You think I… don't love you? Why would you think that?"
Din's expression changed to one of pure sadness. He took a couple of seconds to continue concentrating on what the kid was showing him through the force. But what the kid showed Din, left him speechless, eyes and mouth big open.
-"How…?" He started, although clearly at a loss on how to continue. "Even I didn't remember what happened…How could you know…".
Din looked around him, confused, until his gaze fell on Omera's. Though he clearly wasn't expecting an explanation, especially not from her, she felt obliged to fill him in.
-"Each bacta session seemed to plague you with nightmares. During the first session you were truly out of it, trying to break your way out of the tank. The child… he seemed to be able to help. He was capable of somehow connecting with you in your dreams, calming you down." She took a small pause, letting the information sink in the Mandalorian's head. It was clear to her that all these new revelations were starting to be a bit overwhelming.
-"But what he saw in your dreams clearly upset him, he began to get scared to connect with you, but he wanted so badly to help you… get you through the bacta sessions. So he started taking me in your dreams as well, I guess to feel supported".
Din's breaths started to accelerate.
-"I… You didn't…" he kept trying to say something between breaths that was never managed to say. Closing his eyes, with his right open hand he made a circle movement over his heart. Omera wondered if that meant anything in sign language. But before she could ask him about it, the Mandalorian got up and left the room.
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✏️ and of course, for Kammo
My girl, my beloved, my scrunkly little heathen whom I adore dearly.
Kamala is one of my OG crowd, probably the second I ever made, so she's got a special place in my heart as someone whose muse has been with me for about 10 years. At a glance, you know that one meme that talks about characters who are silly but profoundly sad? That's her.
Kamala learned how to be funny and sociable at an early age as a form of a coping mechanism, and it's stuck around long enough to where she doesn't even recognize it as such anymore. For what it's worth, she's weird, but generally well-meaning, even if her lack of a filter and generally flippant demeanor lands her in hot water at times.
Where she's generally dismissive towards herself and often uses humor in any situation that she can, it's generally forward enough to where it's a dominant virtue that turns into a terrible flaw. While she knows when to be serious, she may be avoidant of it unless it's unavoidable, and it's not hard to tell that when things get serious, it becomes uncomfortable because she knows that they can't just laugh themselves out of the topic or events at hand. This is especially present whenever someone is pointing out a flaw that she has, which is generally Tuuya calling her out for neglecting herself in the process of putting others first. While she isn't against admitting that she has flaws, she doesn't like the idea of having to genuinely reflect on herself because it would entail facing what she doesn't like about herself.
Kamala doesn't remember much of her life. She has a few core memories, but there's still a lot missing. She has thoughts and reactions that she isn't aware of, responses to some things that she can't explain. She's got a lot of trauma surrounding herself, but she's suppressed it to the point of where even naming it isn't guaranteed to ring any bells. She struggles a lot with depression and anxiety, but she's spent enough time laughing through the pain to where it just feels like the "right" thing to do, both to keep herself from focusing on it and from worrying anyone else. How is she gonna take care of her loved ones if she's too busy being stuck on herself, right?
Well, it's no secret that she has unhealthy means of dealing with night-to-night life, whether it's working herself to the bone or always trying to be of use to someone because she's merged her identity with her work, or if she's hell-bent on making someone smile because she couldn't stand to see someone feeling what she often ignores in herself.
With her unexpected rift stumbling (courtesy of Whisper) into folks outside of her Beforan crowd, she's faced with a new challenge, a new reality, and a new set of fears. She might not be able to die permanently due to her status as a resurrected, god-tier rift jumper, but the people that she's grown to love and hate can. She knows it, and it's instilled a sense of strain and urgency upon her that she hasn't felt since she and her original crew were all still alive. This isn't like the other rift-jumpers, who were given the same relative immortality. There is an extremely real threat that she could lose these people for good. There's no forgiving mistakes. There's no room for error. There are no second chances in this realm. She believes that if she doesn't keep it together and get things right every time, then she'll be forced to watch another beloved life slip through her fingers like sand.
Additionally, her lack of memories consequentially includes a lack of self-awareness. She knows that she's a God Tier Sylph of Life, but she has no idea of how powerful she actually is and used to be, and she won't unless she remembers herself. Unless she recollects the pain that she so thoroughly suppressed that it only subconsciously and situationally exists, she won't understand her potential.
In essence, the only way that she would be able to grow would be under the condition that she would first have to break, and she's willing to do everything in her power, even throwing away her own life and well-being, to make sure that doesn't happen.
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msdk-00 · 1 year
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also hate hate hating the stubble period on my arms. it's so blunt and noticeable that it's stubble and not fully grown arm hair. and the hand and finger hair grrr if you told 11 yr old me that 20 yr old her would pretty much not learn to love herself and in fact be even more insecure probably, i think she would throw up and die
ok here's my thought processes n why i go back n forth all tbe time on what i should do in this situation. i don't ever win here
option 1: let it grow out fully
pros:
- no upkeep no time spent on hair removal
- embracing natural body or whtvr
- sensorily i don't mind
cons:
- extremely noticeable, thick black hair on pale skin
- people will notice and comment
- i feel gross (how much is nature or nurture is irrelevant bc no matter how long i have it i never get to a point where it gets any better, i've tried for months and months)
- absolutely cannot wear tight pants; socks also hurt, even ankle socks bc ankle n feet n toe hair. painful painful
option 2: shave sometimes but not more than most girls
pros:
- balance is always a good thing right
- can't complain bc everyone else (read: women) is doing it n they're not bothered by shaving once a week or whatever
cons:
- awful awful stubble
- sensory hell. makes me upset to the point of tears sometimes especially the chafing on the thighs which feels like sandpaper w the stubble
- back and forth hatred whenever i am Not shaved, feeling like i should shave more
option 3: shave to keep up w growth
pros:
- yay i feel like a Real Girl *wooden nose grows slightly*
- i can wear shorts or skirts or pants that don't cover my ankles and not feel disgusting
- more comfortable
- feels more clean (i know this has no basis. and i don't see anyone else this way. just my own body)
cons:
- awful for my skin
- painful to shave this much
- stubble within 6 hours
- thighs never get rid of stubble anyways
- extremely time consuming and frustrating
option 4: full body wax babey (just thought of this one on the spot as an option. never had it done)
pros:
- no stubble??? would grow back softer????
- don't have to do it myself, somebody else does it for me
- don't have to worry about always shaving 12 hours before sex or wearing short pants
cons:
- would assume very expensive bc full body and hair grows back v fast
- would assume very time consuming bc full body n thick thick hair
- i am very deeply uncomfortable w the thought of having someone wax my body. this is connected to my being very uncomfortable with people and also very uncomfortable with my body. i cannot go to a cafe alone without sweating profusely and being unable to think bc crippling anxiety so this is perhaps what id Least like to have to do every month or two
- can't do it alone/in my own house/on my own time i have to find someone to do it wherever i go. if i do it in my university town then i have to pay for taxi or walk to wherever the Hell they'd do that so possible 30-60 min walk each way. oh to have reliable and cheap public transport
i guess wax method is best. at least i could try but i cannot explain to you how Little i want to experience that. i don't care about the pain it's 50% money other 50% social
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wallflowerimagines · 3 years
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Hi! I looove your posts! Thank you so much for sharing your writing!
I was wondering… could you maybe write about the Four Lords with a shy S/O that gets bold and defensive when someone insults the lords? or calls them names? And the Lord’s reaction to the S/O acting different? Dk if im explaining myself >.<
Again! Love your work! Have a great day!
We stan protective partners on this blog!!
Warnings: uh...insults? They're pretty over the top😅 Also swearing.
Alcina Dimitrescu
Honestly, Alcina is more than able to defend herself.
She's got a tongue like a viper, and the thickest skin imaginable. If you really want to hurt her feelings, you have to be someone whom she already respects to a certain degree, or she won't even be phased.
Still, when she leaves a room, there's always some idiot that thinks it's a smart idea to talk shit.
Maybe it's a maid, maybe it's a guest in the Castle, but either way you're not having it.
"God, you're annoying." There was a pause before they opened their mouth again, and you rolled your eyes. "No please, by all means, continue to share your lack of taste with the rest of us."
You disassemble this dumbass, starting small with comments about their personality (trying to keep it classy), but escalating the more they choose to double down on the comments.
Alcina comes back into the room to find you practically screaming at this asshole.
"Look, all you have accomplished here today is revealing that you are a fundamental disappointment on every possible level. My life is worse now that I've heard you open your mouth, you disrespectful, shit licking worm fucker."
Alcina is stunned. You do not give off "aggressive guard dog" vibes at all, yet here you are defending her tooth and nail. While she had seen brief moments of your inner strength and protective streak (mostly towards her daughters) she just...never thought you would do the same for her.
It's not because she doesn't trust you or love you! But nobody has ever done something like this for her before? Ever? She's never had anyone try to protect her--not physically, and not even verbally. She's been so independent for so long that it's... Strange to see you support her so openly.
She doesn't need you to do this for her, she doesn't even expect it, but you do it anyway for no other reason than the fact that you love her. You want people to give her the respect she deserves.
I'm going to be real here: Alcina has never been closer to swooning before in her life. You're overcoming your shyness because you believe in her so much-- it's not a gesture meant to be romantic, but Alcina can't help but see this as a massive statement of your commitment to her.
Seriously. This is such a massive thing for her that if proposals weren't already on her mind, she is mentally picking out a ring for you the minute this happens.
Then, of course, she glides into the room, kisses you until you're breathless and babbling, and smirks at the unfortunate peon who thought they could get away with insulting House Dimitrescu.
She's in such a good mood that she's considering going easy on the idiot. Maybe removing their tongue would be enough of a warning?
Donna Dimitrescu
You don't really know how it's possible but apparently some people don't like Donna Beneviento? Some people think she's scary and unpleasant????
Wild. Can't imagine what that's like.
The two of you are honestly the sweetest, most toothrottingly adorable couple-- blushing when you hold each other's hands, sneaking glances at each other across rooms, giving each other kisses and forgetting whatever was on your mind...
Honestly, anybody who's critical of your relationship with your girlfriend is just a hater. Fuckers can pound sand😤
Still, you are pretty shy, so it takes a lot for you to defend yourself if someone comments about you. It can take a lot of courage to stand up against rude remarks, and sometimes it's easier to walk away.
Defending Donna, on the other hand?
The minute someone even thinks about dismissing her, you are ready to throw hands.
"My lovely girlfriend already said no, meaning you're either deaf or too stupid to pick up on simple social cues," you purse your lips and give the rude and pushy Villager a patronizing once over. "You and your opinion are equally useless. Get the fuck away from us."
Donna blinks.
She... Was not expecting this??? At all?? You're so nice! You always tell her about your attempts to avoid confrontation! What's going on??? How did you get the guts to say what she's always wanted to say?
Meanwhile, Angie is LIVING.
The little doll chimes in to assist you with the verbal homicide, working as a tag team to absolutely murder this moron. She's half partner, half hype man, and is so excited to do this with you. Normally, she has to protect Donna all by herself, but she's relieved and reassured that you stepped in first.
'USELESS IS TOO NICE, THOUGH! THAT IMPLIES THEY AREN'T A POINTLESS, RANCID, LONELY FREAK. THEY LOOK LIKE THEY CRY WHEN THEY MASTURBATE.'
You high five Angie, still glaring daggers at the unfortunate villager.
The two of you continue to ream into the villager, while Donna hovers nearby.
As surprised as she is, she's also grateful. She's only really ever had Angie to help shield her from insults and disrespect (and occasionally inducing horrifying hallucinations that make people claw off their own skin), but having you in her corner makes her feel safe.
Not to get totally sappy, but you're like her knight in shining armor in a lot of ways. And the fact you two are so similar is really motivating-- She wants to one day be confident enough to return the favor. Until then, she's happy to watch her two favorite people have fun insulting some stranger ❤️
Salvatore Moreau
With you being so shy, Salvatore is surprised how often he takes the lead in your relationship.
He's not normally all that outgoing, but you seem to bring out a side of him that's very protective. Whenever you have a bad day he wants to bundle you up and keep you safe from the world.
If he so much as holds your hand you start stuttering and avert your gaze. It creates a feedback loop where you both get flustered, but Moreau has never felt steadier. Despite your shyness, you make sure he knows how much you love him.
You're sweet as pie and twice as kind--Salvatore is the luckiest man in the world, nobody can convince him otherwise 💕💕
So it comes as a total shock that when a passing fisherman spits in your path and calls him a freak, your entire demeanor does a 180.
Your posture straightens and you look the villager dead in the eye, "I don't believe anyone asked your opinion."
Salvatore: 😳
This is not the time, and he totally knows it, but, uh, something about your tone??? Really does it for him???
While he's attempting to process why exactly he's starting to short circuit, you proceed to verbally shred this person to bits with clinical efficiency-- nothing is off limits.
They might try to defend themselves, but it's useless. You do not let up.
"Ugly? Monster? Bitch your teeth are throwing gang signs, don't throw stones from your shining glass house."
You insult their appearance, what they're holding, their smell-- you get so fucking mean that you might even make them cry.
Moreau is just lost right now, trying hard to figure out how exactly you were able to gain all of this confidence so quickly.
He's not upset! In fact he's very flattered! But, he also doesn't want you to get into a fight with some unimportant stranger. (After all, if they so much as throw a punch, they're straight up dead. Moreau is a patient man, but he's not that patient. You do not hurt his partner and live to tell the tale.)
He may a healer but...
Eventually he steps between you and the fisherman in an attempt to deescalate the situation, but you just kiss him on the cheek and step around him, determined to make your point.
Blushing hard, Moreau lets you do what you want. What can he say? Fish man likes himself a protective partner 💞
Karl Heisenberg
Magnet Man is not the most social guy to begin with, so any opportunities you have to stick up for him are already pretty slim.
He mostly knows you as the shy, sweet, easily flustered partner that lets out a cute squeak every time he sneaks up to hug you from behind.
Karl's honestly happy just to spend time with you all alone in the Factory. It's not the best or healthiest mindset, but he'd be perfectly content to only ever see you for the rest of his life. Spending time with anybody else feels like a boring waste in comparison.
But occasionally, you do head out into town with him. Heisenberg wants you to be safe so he doesn't do it often, but running errands with you is a weakness of his. It's domestic in a way that he's never experienced before.
He likes it ❤️
What he does not like is the shopkeeper starting to give their opinions on the quality of your relationship with him.
Most insults Karl will let slide because he doesn't particularly care. However if anyone makes a comment on how scared (shy) you look around him, how you must be being threatened into being with him, how poorly Lord Heisenberg is treating you...he won't stand for it.
But before his fingers can even twitch towards his hammer, you snap.
"You're clearly the blindest cocksucker I've ever met--so wipe the cum out of eyes and mind your own fucking business."
Karl does a double take.
He's heard you curse before, but quietly. The words coming out of your mouth are WILD right now, he has NEVER seen you so angry. You're defending him with the aggression of a wild animal, and it's simultaneously HILARIOUS, but for some reason he's also getting a warm fuzzy feeling in his chest?
He doesn't need you to protect him like this, but seeing you blatantly argue how much you love and cherish him in public reassures him in a way he didn't know he needed.
Still, hearing you call the shopkeeper "shit for brains" is the funniest thing that's happened in years.
Heisenberg starts laughing, and the more you shout at the idiot, the harder he laughs. Is it weird how hard he wants to kiss you right now?
Eventually, he just has to drag you away, cackling as you continue to shout insults at the unfortunate shopkeep. There's got to be an alley around here for some good old fashioned privacy 💕
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folklorelise · 3 years
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That one time he said “you’re not my mother” & “I love you”
That one time they said, “you’re not my mother!” and that one time they said “I love you” — I decided to combine these two because I found it was too short otherwise :) enjoy
MASTERLIST
Eren Yaeger:
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Most of the time, when Eren and Jean were fighting, it was in a friendly way – always bickering like siblings which is way if Levi or you were there, you would never get involved.
That is why when that one time they were fighting – for real – you and Levi arrived too late. Eren received a punch on his face and Jean had his arm broken. When you two noticed what was happening, you quickly run to where they were and separated them. Mikasa and you were restraining Eren while Levi took Jean away.
“Eren, you’re bleeding. Let’s go.” you told him before bringing him with you. “Mikasa, can you and the others stay here with Kuchel please?”
“Of course.”
When you arrived in your office, you took out your first aid kit and cleaned one of his wounds, and then stitched it up.
“What happened?” you asked Eren when you were done with the stitches.
“Nothing.”
“Well, you both ended up hurting each other so no, it was not nothing.” you argued.
“Whatever.” Eren mumbled.
“Eren! This is serious.” you raised your voice, “Jean was hurt–.”
“So was I! Why is it always everything about Jean with you? Oh right! He is your favourite after all.”
“This is not what we’re talking about right now. This is about you two being childish. Yes, you were hurt but Jean is not a titan, he can’t heal overnight. I don’t know why the fight started and I don’t want to because I’m sure it was for a ridiculous reason anyway.”
Eren was still on his nerves and he knew if he said anything, he would regret it – so he just kept quiet and stared at his shoes.
“You really don’t have anything to say?” you sighed. “Eren–, you should apologise. Both of–.”
“STOP! Stop pretending to care about me if all you want is go and check on Jean. Stop pretending you care about me at all – just, stop.”
“Eren–.” your voice quavered.
“And stop acting like my mother because you’re not. So, just leave me alone!” Eren yelled because storming out.
When you found Levi in his office, he was doing some paperwork with Kuchel on his lap.
“How did it go with Eren?” Levi asked you without looking up.
“Hm… not great.” you whimpered.
As soon as Levi heard your voice, he looked up and saw that your eyes were still red and puffy. He put Kuchel on the ground and came to embrace you. You continued to cry in his arms, putting your head on his shoulder.
“What happened?” Levi asked worried.
Levi did not insist on it when you refused to talk about it. Levi asked Sasha, Connie, and Jean to take care of Kuchel the rest of the day so he could spend the day with you.
You spend the day in your bedroom, switching between crying and sleeping. Levi stayed with you the whole time, with you clinging on him. After a few hours, you finally started to calm down and were ready to talk.
“Eren said that… it sounds ridiculous actually,” you tried to laugh, “he said that I wasn’t his mother which is true, I’m not.” you explained. “Is it weird? That I’m hurt because I consider Eren, and all of them, as one of my own children?”
“Eren’s an idiot. I’m sure he didn’t mean it.” Levi tried to reassure you.
Eren, on his side, went back to his room and stayed there for the rest of the day. After he calmed down and realised what he said to you, he started to regret it. He did not mean any of the words he said to you.
For the next few days, whenever you and Eren would see each other, you would just walk away. You did not know what to say to Eren, therefore you just decided to avoid him which is something everyone noticed. Eren really wanted to talk to you, he wanted to apologise but with you constantly walking away, it was impossible. Eren decided he would ask the captain’s help.
“I know she probably told you what happened.” Eren told Levi when he went to his office, “I just want to apologise, please?”
“Fine. She’s with Kuchel in our room.” Levi thought. “Then go and clean the stable!”
“Thank you.”
Eren run to your bedroom and went in without knocking. He found you reading a story to Kuchel and hesitated a second before calling your name.
“Eren!” you shouted surprised.
“I’m sorry, it’s just – I know you wouldn’t have opened the door.” Eren explained. “Mom,” Eren started before breaking down crying, “I’m sorry, please don’t ignore me anymore.”
“No cry.” Kuchel shouted, “ma-ma kiss, no cry.” she pulled your sleeve.
“Please don’t hate me.” Eren whispered.
“I could never hate you.” you said before hugging him.
Eren hold you so tightly that you could barely move.
“It’s ok,” you reassured him, “I could never hate one of my kids.” you admitted.
“So, you’re not mad right?”
“I’m not. It’s ok.” you patted his back.
“I didn’t mean.” Eren added, “I didn’t mean any of it.” Eren paused before adding “because I love you mom. I do.”
“Eren,” you smiled, “I love you too.”
“Lowe ma-ma me!” Kuchel shouted because you and Eren were too far away from her.
“I’m going to go now.” Eren said, “I still have cleaning duty.”
Eren left, and a sigh of relief left your mouth. Having him directly tell you that he did not mean it was a relief.
Jean Kirstein:
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Levi had been thinking about having Jean to replace him as captain in a few years or even make him squad leader. Jean obviously proved himself to be a great leader – there was no excuse not to promote him to a higher rank. He never talked about that to anyone though, particularly not to you because he knew how worried you would be. After some time, Levi decided he would talk about it with Erwin.
“Are you telling me this because you want to retire?” Erwin asked him.
“No. I don’t to retire right now.”
“Okay.” Erwin took a moment to process what Levi just told him, “What did Y/N say?”
“Nothing.” Levi casually answered.
“Really?”
“I didn’t tell her anything yet.”
“Oh… Well, I don’t see any problems in making Jean a captain now or in a few years. He has a good sense of leadership. I think that’s a great idea.” Erwin stated.
“Bur?” Levi asked expecting Erwin to continue.
“No ‘but’, just…” Erwin took a deep breath, smiling slightly, “really excited to see Y/N’s reaction.”
“She’ll love that.”
After a few days, Levi decided to call you in his office at the same time as Jean to announce the big news he had. When Jean and you arrived, he sat down at his desk before explaining why he asked to see you.
“You grew up and learned a lot these past few months and years. You have every quality to make a great captain or even squad leader.”
“Oh,” Jean blushed, “thank you, but why are you telling me this?”
“I talked about it with Erwin, and he agrees with me that–.”
“Wait.” you cut Levi in his sentence, “are you seriously trying to make Jean captain right now?” you asked dumbstruck.
“If he wants, yes.”
“What?” you laughed nervously. “No! It’s… he’s a child! This is too much responsibility and pression for him.” you argued. “Jean,” you turned around to face him, “you’re not–.”
“Y/N,” Levi cut you, “he’s not a child anymore. You know how skilled he is on the field so why are you doing this?”
“Because being a captain is too much pressure! You are responsible for everything! Yes, it includes victories, but also every death of your friends and squad members.” you rumbled, “Jean, you’re not… you can’t do this. I refuse.”
���Y/N–.” Levi started but was cut short by Jean.
“You’re not my mother!” Jean yelled, “you don’t have the right to decide for me!” he added before leaving the room.
Silence prevailed in the room. Then suddenly you started to sob violently and collapsed on the ground. Levi slowly approached you and wrapped you in his arms.
“It’s ok.” Levi whispered, “he didn’t mean it.”
You spent the rest of the day in bed, regretting everything you previously said to Jean. Levi stayed beside you, trying to calm you down but it was not successful. At night, Levi decided to pay Jean a visit to see if he calmed down. When he knocked on Jean’s door, he heard a quiet ‘come in’. Jean was curled up on himself on his bed, with his blanket over him.
“I’m sorry.” Jean sobbed. “I– I.”
“You don’t have to apologise to me.” Levi said. “Tomorrow morning, you’ll come and apologise to Y/N because no one can understand you in this state.” Levi referred to his sobbing. “She’s sorry too, just so you know.”
Then, Levi came back to you and saw that you calmed down a bit, but he knew you were hurt. It was not the first time that one of the kids told you that. When Eren did, you were inconsolable and did stayed in bed for a few days.
The next day, Jean was up really early. He came in your office and waited for you inside, sitting on the couch. He waited a few hours, but you still were not there. You were eating breakfast and played a bit with Kuchel. When you finally walked in your office, you found Jean asleep on your couch. You took the blanket you kept for you at night and delicately put it on Jean, which did not work since he instantly woke up.
“Mom!” Jean said surprised and then immediately looked away.
Neither one of you knew what to say. You sat on the table in front of his, while he was still standing awkwardly.
“I’m sorry!” you both shouted at the same time.
“No!” Jean quickly added, “I didn’t– I didn’t mean it because it’s not true. You are. You are my mom and… I’m sorry, please don’t hate me.” Jean finished his sentence trying to hold his tears back.
“I– I’m sorry too.” you apologised and walked to him to hug him, “I’m sorry because I think you would make a great captain.” you tried to smile. “You are really talented, and it would be a waste not to make you captain.”
“No, if you’re not happy I don’t–.”
“I am happy, I was just scared.” you admitted. “You… you are my child and seeing you all grown-up and taking responsibilities… is terrifying. I don’t want to you to go through what Levi, and I did when we lost–.” you suddenly stopped, not wanting to talk about how many friends you all loss.
“I thought that you refused because you didn’t think I was good enough.” Jean admitted.
“You are good enough. You are more than that. I’m sorry I made you feel that way.”
“I’m sorry too.” Jean repeated.
//
Jean was always the first one to volunteer to take care of Kuchel when neither you nor Levi could. He loved spending time with her. He grew up without siblings, so since he saw you and Levi like his parents, Kuchel was like his little sister.
“Jean, thank you for doing this.” you gave him Kuchel, “Levi and I will be back in a few hours.”
“No problem, have a safe trip!”
Jean brought Kuchel back to his room and let her play with her toys. In the meantime, Armin, Eren and Mikasa came to see Kuchel too. Sasha and Connie came later on and stayed with Jean to play with Kuchel.
“Ja!” Kuchel screamed when she saw that Jean stopped playing with her.
“What did you say?” Jean asked shocked.
“Ja.” Kuchel pointed at Jean.
“That’s my name.” Jean said happily, “can you guys believe it?” he said to his friends.
“Oh, come on,” Connie replied, “It could be anything else.”
After trying to make Kuchel repeat it a few times, which was a failure, Sasha and Connie left Jean alone since they had cleaning duties to do before the Captain came back.
“I know you said my name earlier, even though you won’t repeat, it’s fine.”
“Ma-ma?” Kuchel asked.
“She’ll be back soon don’t worry.” Jean started to clean her toys. “You know, you’re very lucky to have them as your parents. They are awesome. I love them. I mean mom– no, da– no– I mean they’re great, you know?” Jean explained as if Kuchel could understand. “Never mind.”
Jean realised what he just said and started to think about if he should tell you or not. On one hand, he wanted to because he wanted you to know how much he appreciated you being there for him, but on the other hand, it was embarrassing.
“Kirstein.” Levi called him when he found him. “I still have to go and see Erwin so drop Kuchel to Y/N.” Levi told him.
“Da-da!” Kuchel yelled happily.
Levi kissed her before leaving. Jean walked to your office and knocked on the door.
“Yes?”
“It’s me, Jean.”
“Come in.” you said, “Kuchel, hiii.” you hold your baby. “How was the day with her?” you asked Jean.
“Good. It was good.” Jean answered. “I have to mh… go. Sasha and Connie, they’re… they need me.”
“Oh, okay, thank–.”
“I love you, bye mom!” Jean said before left running.
“Ja lowe ma-ma.”
When Levi came back to your office, he found you sitting on the couch looking at the ceiling.
“What’s the matter with you?”
“Jean just said he loves me. I can’t believe all my children are now opening to me now.” you pretended to cry. “Also, Kuchel just said Jean’s nam.”
“What?”
“Here, take Kuchel because I have to go and see Jean.”
“Ja!”
“Why?” Levi asked.
“He ran away before I could say anything.”
“A weirdo,” Levi looked at Kuchel, “the first name you said had to be his…”
“You always pretend to be annoyed by him, when I know for a fact you lo–.”
“Not listening, bye.” Levi closed the door before you could finish.
When you went to Jean’s room, he was obviously not here. Therefore, you just decided to take a piece of paper and then put it on his pillow.
When Jean came back to his room, he found a little piece of saying “I love you my boy, you didn’t have to run away.” And it was signed “Mom”.
Armin Arlet:
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Armin’s new job was to teach the new cadets the expeditions’ strategy. When new cadets arrived in the survey corps, they were always surprised at how often Armin, Eren, Jean and Mikasa would call you ‘mom’ which ended up being their favourite topic during the day.
As usual, Armin would be early, waiting for the new soldiers to arrive. A group of friends were already there, talking way too loudly.
“You heard that too right?” one of them asked.
“Heard what?” another one asked.
“How the captain’s squad calls squad leader Y/N ‘mom’.”
“Yeah and?”
“Oh, come on. She obviously isn’t their real mom.”
“She isn’t?”
“Are you stupid? Anyway, I think that’s weird. I mean she has her own kid, right?”
Their discussion was cut short by other people arriving. Armin pretended he did not hear them and taught his class professionally. Near the end of the class, you decided to come so you could see if everything went well. You quietly took a place and watched until the end. When Armin was over, you walked to him started to congratulate him.
“Armin, you are a natural at this. That was really great!” you hugged him.
At the back, the group of friends who was talking about Armin and you earlier started to laugh, which Armin noticed. Armin immediately stepped away from you.
“Wh–.” you started.
“Stop doing that, you’re not my mother.” Armin stated loudly enough for everyone to hear. “Stop acting like my mother please.”
Every news cadets were looking at you both – the room was silent. Armin instantly regretted was he said and wanted to apologise but you just forced a smiled and left. You went to Levi’s office, who was with Kuchel.
“Hey. How was–.” Levi started to ask but stopped when he saw you trying to hold back yours tears.
“Armin said it. In front of so many people – it was… horrible.” you cried.
“Ma-ma?” Kuchel crawled towards you.
Levi stood up and came to hug you while Kuchel was grasping on your leg. 
“Y/N, they never mean it.” Levi reassured you.
“But…” you shook your head, “there was so many people watching us! No, they were staring at us.”
“Do you want me to go and talk to Armin?”
“No! It’s fine.” you sighed. “I mean… at this rate I’m used to it now.” you tried to laugh it up, but just ended up continuing sobbing.
“Ma-ma no cry!” Kuchel tried to comfort you.
“I’m not.” you smiled picking her up.
Levi and you spend the day playing with Kuchel – you tried to forget what Armin said and Levi wanted you not to think about it too much. Playing with Kuchel was one of the solutions. When it was time to eat, Levi suggested that he should just brought the food so you could eat in his office.
While Levi was gone, you gave Kuchel her toys and went to the bathroom. When you came back, Armin was playing with Kuchel.
“Armin. Hey.”
“Hey.” Armin mumbled. “Mh, I knocked on the door, but no one answered.”
“It’s ok.”
After a few minutes of silence, Levi entered the room with the food and stopped when he saw Armin. Levi looked at you and put the food on his desk.
“Do you need me to stay?” Levi whispered.
“Can you come back in ten minutes with Kuchel please?”
“Yeah.” Levi took Kuchel and left.
“I’m sorry about what I said.” Armin apologised looking at his feet. “I didn’t mean it.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not! I never should’ve said it on front of these people. I never should’ve said anything at all because it’s not true. I don’t think that.”
“Then why did you? Because… It’s just that these past few weeks, I,” you sighed loudly, “I heard that a lot…”
“Mom…” Armin frowned before hugging you. “I’m sorry.”
When you asked Armin what made him say it, he just avoided the question, saying that it was not important. Then, Levi came back so Armin left. He asked you what Armin had said, you told him that Armin did not say much.
A few days passed and you started to forget about that incident, but Levi wanted to know why it happened in the first place. That was why he asked Armin to meet him in his office one morning.
“What happened that morning?” Levi asked him.
Armin instantly knew what he was talking about and immediately looked away.
“I–.” Armin hesitated.
“No need to lie to me. I’ll know and you would just be wasting our time.”
“I heard people talking.” Armin whispered weakly. “They were saying things… like how weird it was for us to call her ‘mom’. And I thought, maybe that’s true.” Armin explained slowly. “I don’t know, I guess I wanted to show to these people that… it wasn’t true.”
When Armin was done talking, Levi nodded and let Armin leave. Levi never told you because Armin asked him not to. Armin never told anyone else what happened either – it was now their secret.
//
After that incident where you got badly injured, the cadets were having a hard time at night as well, especially for Armin and Jean who had to witness your body being thrown away. Both of them saw your body falling from a high level without being able to help.
Armin felt guilty because if he were not for him, you never would have got injured. After you woke up, he never really talked with you because of that guilt. You tried to talk to him because you wanted to make sure he was doing great, but every time he saw you, he would just walk away.
He would very often get nightmares too – it would often be about you regretting saving him, about you telling him that he should stop talking to you. He was scared.
“Armin,” Mikasa called him, “are you ok?”
“Yes. Why?” Armin answered absent-minded.
“You don’t look like yourself since… you know. Did you talk to–.”
“No.”
“Go talk to her.” Mikasa advised her friend.
After a few days of doing nothing, Mikasa decided to come to you because she was worried for Armin.
“I think Armin isn’t… He’s not ok.” Mikasa told you one morning.
“He’s been avoiding me I know. I thought giving him some space would be good, but I will talk to him.”
“He’s probably in his room, he’s not going out much.” Mikasa informed you.
“Thank you.”
You walked to Armin’s room and opened it without knocking, knowing if you did, he would have pretended to not be here. Armin was still sleeping, so you took a chair and placed it beside his bed and sat down. You took the book next to his bed and started to read it.
“AAH!” Armin screamed when he woke up.
“Why are you screaming like this in the morning!” you quickly put the book down.
“What– why are you here?” Armina asked hiding under his blanket.
“Mikasa was worried about you, and so was I. Why have you been avoiding me?”
“I haven’t.”
“Armin,” you stood up so you could sit on his bed, “Just tell me what has been bothering you.”
“Do you hate me?” Armin asked slowly after a long silence.
“What? No! Why would I?”
“You were hurt because of me. I was careless and–.”
“Armin, I don’t hate you.”
“But you almost–. Because of me…”
“I don’t hate you; I could never hate you. And it was not your fault at all. It was mine; I was careless and I didn’t think before acting.”
“Ok, that’s… good.” then Armin mumbled something else.
“What?” you asked confused.
“I love you mom.” Armin said timidly, looking away.
“I love you too Armin.” you said hugging him. “Get dressed now, I will wait for you in the mess hall.”
“Don’t tell anyone I said that!” Armin screamed when you left.
He was really embarrassed about it, but he was glad he did it. You were glad too, and you did not tell anyone beside Levi – you were too happy to not tell him.
Mikasa Ackerman:
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Levi and his squad were training at hand-on-hand combat as usual, only this time, Mikasa was so distracted she ended spraining her ankle. She did not tell anyone and walked on her feet as if nothing happened. Eren noticed though. He noticed how she was putting more weight on her uninjured leg.
“What’s wrong with you?” Eren asked her once they were alone.
“Nothing.”
“What’s wrong with your leg?” Eren insisted.
“Noth–.”
“It’s clearly swollen. Your ankle is twice the size of the other one!”
“I’m fine.”
“Did you tell mom yet?”
“No, why would I?” Mikasa asked.
“Because you’re hurt which means you’re not going tomorrow.”
“We don’t run or walk – I’ll be fine.” Mikasa told him before leaving.
Eren decided if to tell you himself because he knew how stubborn Mikasa was. He found you with Levi in his office.
“Eren, hi!” you greeted him.
“Talk.” Levi said annoyed. “Don’t just stand here silently.”
“She’s hurt but she doesn’t want to tell you. Her ankle, she probably sprained it when we were training. And she wants to go to tomorrow’s expedition like that.”
“Oh, I’ll go and talk to her then.” you told them. “I will be right back.”
You assumed Mikasa would be in her room at this hour, so you went to her bedroom. You knocked on her door and a few seconds, Mikasa opened the door.
“Can I come in?” you smiled.
“Mh, yes.”
You watched Mikasa carefully, but she was good at pretending to be ok. You sat on her bed before making small talk first. You asked her how the training went.
“Fine.”
“Eren told me that you hurt yourself.”
“I’m fine.” Mikasa answered coldly.
“If it’s true, I don’t want you to leave tomorrow.”
“I’m fine.” Mikasa repeated irritated.
“Show me your ankle.”
“No.”
“Mikasa.”
“I said I’m fine, so stop. It doesn’t even hurt and if I go to sleep right now, I’ll have enough rest.”
“No. It’ll be worse if you leave tomorrow so you’re not going. That’s an order.” you concluded.
“You’re not my superior!” Mikasa shouted.
“Oh, you think Levi would disagree with me?” you laughed sarcastically.
“Well, you’re not my mother to decide something like this!” Mikasa argued.
“Mik–.”
“No, I- I’m sorry.” Mikasa immediately apologised. “I’m sorry.” Mikasa repeated.
“It’s ok.” you whispered. “It’s ok.”
“I’ll stay here tomorrow.” Mikasa agreed looking down.
“Do you need me to stay here with you tomorrow?”
“No, it’s fine.”
“Okay. Then I’ll go now.” you stood up.
“You’re not mad right?” Mikasa asked timidly before you left. “I didn’t mean it, I was just…”
“I’m not,” you turned around, “I know you didn’t mean it.”
Mikasa nodded and you smiled at her before closing the door. When you went back to Levi, Eren was still here as well.
“Mom! What did she say?” Eren asked.
“She’ll stay here.” you reassured Eren, “you can go now.”
“Are you ok?” Levi asked you once Eren left.
“Yes.” you paused a second before repeating, “Yes, I’m ok.”
“Ok.” Levi smiled slightly before walking up to you to kiss you.
//
After your accident, Mikasa became overprotective of you. When Levi started to work again after a few weeks, he was reluctant to do so because that meant leaving you. Fortunately, Mikasa told him that she would stay and help you until he was over with work.
Mikasa would bring you food and help you with some of your paperwork too.
“How are you feeling today?” Mikasa asked you.
“I’m ok thanks to you. You really didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to.”
Mikasa spent an entire week with you and Kuchel. Levi was glad that Mikasa was with you since he knew how serious she was about your safety. One night, when Levi came back pretty late, he found Mikasa sleeping in bed with you while Kuchel was in the middle, still awake. Levi gently took Kuchel and left with her.
“I guess I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.” Levi told Kuchel when he put her to sleep.
When he came back, he noticed that neither one of you had a blanket one you so before going to sleep, he put one on each of you.
In the morning, Mikasa was the first one to wake up. When she realised that she was in your bed, she quickly left the bed so she could leave, but before she could she looked at you and said: “I love you mom.”, thinking you were asleep.
“Mmh, I love you too Mikasa, now go back to sleep.” you mumbled still half asleep.
Mikasa’s eyes widened and left quickly thinking she had dreamt it. Levi was the next one to wake up but decided to continue to sleep next to you when he saw that Mikasa was no longer in the bed.
“Morning.” you said half awake. “Hey. Where did you sleep?”
“Couch.” Levi answered holding you tightly.
“M’sorry ‘bout that.”
“It’s ok.”
After you both brushed your teeth and washed your face – you went to eat. Mikasa was already in the mess hall with her friends, and she kept avoiding your gaze.
“What’s the matter with you?” Eren asked Mikasa.
“Nothing.”
“Mom!” Eren yelled, “come eat with us!”
Mikasa ate her breakfast really quickly before leaving. Eren and Armin were confused as much as Levi was. You were confused at first too, but then you remember what Mikasa had said to you before leaving – you excused yourself and went after her. You found her in her room, hiding under her blanket. You sat down and tried to take the blanket off.
“Mikasa come on, don’t be embarrassed.”
“How can I not?”
“Do you want to know a secret?” you waited for an answer but Mikasa did not say a thing, “You’re not the only one who said it so there’s no need to be embarrassed...”
“What?” Mikasa suddenly stood up. “Who did?”
“You know… some of them.” you admitted before leaving as if nothing happened.
“I need to know.” Mikasa murmured to herself.
1K notes · View notes
breadqueen95 · 3 years
Text
Dress - Bucky Barnes
bucky barnes x fem!reader
wc: 5k
plot: bucky and y/n’s relationship is new, and they don’t want to share with their friends just yet. but something as simple as a dress can change anyone’s mind, even the winter soldier. 
content warnings: kissing. physical affection. flirting. allusions to sex. drinking. being drunk. language. bucky being a flirt. 
a/n: this is for @natasha-romancff and her taylor swift writing challenge! it took me awhile, but i’ve had a ton of fun writing this. so many bucky fics are angsty, and rightly so the man has some TRAUMA. but for my first bucky fic, based on dress by taylor swift, i wanted something happier for him 
***
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Damn. That was a lot of leg.
“I don’t know,” you muttered as you stared into the mirror, “aren’t these things…a little classier than this?”
“Uh…have you met Tony Stark?” Natasha grumbled as she continued to scroll through her phone. “The man has never been classy a day in his life.”
“Well I know he isn’t, but fancy people show up to these things. I just don’t want to embarrass myself.” You were currently standing in front of the full-length mirror in Wanda’s room, staring at the reflection of a woman who didn’t quite look like you.
But it was you, wasn’t it? It was just…that you was wearing a very short, very sexy red cocktail dress. The sweetheart neckline was a nice touch, but the back was completely open. And that hemline? Definitely hiked way up past your knees.
“Y/n, relax,” Wanda reassured in her lilting accent, “sure, the dress is a little…spicier…than you’re used to, but it’s in a good way.”
“I’m pretty sure every single person would be able to tell I spend my days in tactical gear. God, I’m not sure I even know how to walk in heels this high!”
Heaving a dramatic sigh, Natasha threw her phone down and looked at you in the mirror. Her eyebrows were raised, and she was giving you her usual ‘don’t give me that shit’ look. It nearly had you shaking in your very strappy black heels.
“Are you kidding me, y/n? I’ve seen you strut in enough fancy parties during undercover missions to know that you’ve got this.”
“Yeah,” Wanda scoffed as she took a sip of red wine from her glass, “all she’s nervous about is what Bucky will think.”
Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide how much that sentence affected you.
“C’mon, Wanda. You know Bucky and I are just friends.”
“Do friends undress each other with their eyes whenever they’re in the same room?”
Damn it. Damn Wanda and her stupid perceptiveness.
“You’re reading too much into it, Wanda.” She just laughed at you, acting like she knew so much better.
What you knew and wasn’t ready to admit to your two best friends, was that she was right on the money.
Bucky Barnes, the infamous Winter Soldier, your favorite person in the entire world, was now your boyfriend. He had been for a few weeks now. The two of you were insanely private people. Hell, it had been years before the two of you had finally learned everything about each other. Once you had gotten past the walls the other had so carefully crafted, well…
At that point you were in love.
But the others didn’t need to know that, not yet at least. The Avengers were a family, your family. They were really the only true family you’d ever had. But Bucky…Bucky was finally yours. And you were his. You didn’t think it was crazy to just want to enjoy that, just the two of you, without everyone else sharing their jokes and opinions just yet. They did it out of love, you both knew that, but you just wanted him all to yourself.
As you looked back at your reflection in the mirror, you took a minute to really consider what Bucky’s reaction might be. He had the best poker face in the room no matter who he was with, but you knew him well enough to know how he was feeling just based on his eyes. He’d always said how much he loved red on you, and he adored every and any excuse to touch your skin. Those steel blue eyes of his would absolutely burn once he saw you in this dress.
And fuck, that was something you really wanted to see.
“Well, if you aren’t going to wear that dress, you better pick something else,” Nat said, jerking you from your fantasies, “we need to be there in twenty minutes, and we all need to touch up our makeup.”
“Actually…I think I’ll wear it,” you said confidently, trying to hide your grin as you ran your hands down the silky fabric.
What you didn’t see was Natasha and Wanda sharing a secret smirk behind you, like they’d known what you’d do the whole time.
***
Six weeks ago, everything had changed for you and Bucky.
You’d known how you felt for a long time. Bucky Barnes, despite his past, was the kind of man anyone could fall in love with. He was sincere, kind, generous, witty…everything you’d ever wanted in a partner. He had been your best friend for even longer.
It had been a long time before you could even admit your feelings to yourself, let alone to him. After everything the two of you had been through, who had the time and mental capacity for romance? It just didn’t seem important. You just chalked up your feelings to being such close friends. All you wanted was to be near him, even if you just sat in silence doing different things. Just being in the same room as Bucky brought you a sort of peace you’d never had before. Whenever he touched you, even if it was just a brief hug or brushing your back to get past you, your skin erupted into goosebumps. But that was just because physical touch was still foreign to you, right?
And his smile. God, his wonderful smile…
Bucky didn’t smile much. He hid behind a mask of stoicism, a remnant from the trauma of his horrible history as the Winter Soldier. Showing any sort of emotion, especially happiness, was hard for him. But when he finally let himself smile? It was the most beautiful thing you’d ever see.        
It took several sleepless nights wrestling with those confusing feelings to figure it out. You didn’t just see Bucky as your best friend. You had it bad. Not just “oh my god he’s so handsome” bad, like the “I would take a bullet for you I’m so in love” bad. That revelation? It left you euphoric. It also left you scared.
Because you were so sure Bucky didn’t feel the same. And that thought was like a knife to the heart every time it flashed through your mind.
So you kept it to yourself. You tried to keep things as normal as possible, but your heart kept fluttering whenever he walked into a room. Being so close to Bucky meant you confided in each other about pretty much everything, and he knew you well enough to know you were hiding something.
It all exploded on a Tuesday night in the compound.
Tuesdays were your movie nights. Bucky had a lot of pop culture to catch up on, so on this night every week he would come by your room to watch a movie. It was a weekly tradition that kind of started by accident. You were shocked he still hadn’t made time to watch Lord of the Rings, so you forced him onto your couch with popcorn and The Fellowship of the Ring. He loved it so much, and immediately asked if you guys could watch The Two Towers the next week. How could you say no to him?
Tonight, you were watching 13 Going on 30. It was your all-time favorite romcom, and you figured you could both use a break from all the action and fantasy movies you’d been cycling through. Something with a happy ending was worth indulging in.
“Does that Matt guy look like Banner to you? Or is it just me?” Bucky asked through a mouthful of popcorn.
“Heh, maybe a little,” you said, “Give or take a few years.” He laughed at that, and you forced yourself to laugh quietly. You wanted to blurt out your feelings every time you looked at Bucky, so you’d gotten quieter and quieter every time you spent time with him. It was an awful reaction, and you knew he noticed. But it was better than losing his friendship, right?
After that awful and painfully obvious forced laugh, Bucky let out a huge sigh and paused the movie. He set the bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table in front of the couch, then turned to face you. Exasperation and hurt glimmered in his eyes.
“Y/n, what the fuck is going on with you?”
“W-what do you mean?”
“Oh come on, don’t give me that,” he said sharply, “I know you better than anyone, and I know for a fact there’s something you’re not telling me. Is it me? Did I do something wrong?”
“What? No, god no!” You exclaimed.
“Well it must be something I did, because you’ve never been this quiet around me and it keeps getting worse. I hate it, and I want to know what I did so I can fix it.”
“Bucky, I’m serious, it’s nothing you did—”
“Then why? Why are you shutting me out?” He cut you off angrily, arms thrown wide. “You’re my best friend, I just don’t get why—”
“I don’t want you like a best friend, Bucky!” Your eyes went wide as the words flew from your lips. In the most comical way, you clapped your hand over your mouth as if you could stop the words that had already been said. Bucky’s eyes narrowed in confusion.
Oh fuck. He didn’t get it. Curse him and his old man ways.
“What does that even mean, Y/n? Are you saying you don’t want me around anymore?”
“Bucky, of course not. God, I would never want that. Never in a million years.”
“Then you better explain, because if you haven’t noticed, I’m over 100 years old. I need a little help here.”
“It means, uh…um,” you stuttered, wringing your hands together. “Is there any chance we can just forget I said that?”
“Nope, not a chance.”
“It means…it means that I care about you. As more than a friend.”
His entire face seemed to crinkle as he processed that. If you weren’t freaking out, you’d be obsessing over how damn cute it made him look. Then his eyes got wide as he began to make the connection. Your stomach nearly fell out of your ass as his eyes lifted again to meet yours.
“I…I think I know what you’re saying,” he nearly whispered, “I just need you to get real specific real fast, because I’m not about to say anything until I know exactly what you mean.”
“It means I’m in love with you, okay?” You burst out. Even through your mortification, there was a sudden sense of relief. A secret as big as that had definitely been weighing you down. Now that it was out there, that was one less thing you had to worry about.
His eyes grew even wider. How that was possible, you didn’t even know. That beautiful mouth of his began to turn up into a small smile as he gazed softly at you.
“You’re in love with me?” He asked, his smile getting wider with each passing second.
“What, you need it carved into stone or something?” You couldn’t help but sass him. Did you fucking stutter?
“No, it’s just…I never thought you’d feel that way about me.”
“Well, clearly I do. So you – wait, you mean you’ve thought about this before?”
“Of course I have,” he said as he shrugged, “I’ve been in love with you for two years now, how could I not think about it?”
You were instantly filled with warmth and pure bliss. In all your obsessing over your own feelings, you’d never allowed yourself to consider that he might feel the same about you. It just didn’t seem possible.
“I’m sorry,” you burst out, holding a hand up, “you’re telling me you’ve been into me for two years and didn’t say anything?”
“Why didn’t you?” He shot back, inching closer to you.
“Because you’re my best friend. I didn’t want to lose you because of stupid feelings I have.”
“But…I have those same ‘stupid feelings’ for you. So can we just cut the whole act and get on with it?” Bucky brought a hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing along your skin so gently.
“Uh…um…get on with what?”
“Well I’d kinda like to kiss you, if you’re cool with it.”
“Bucky Barnes did you just use current slang to ask if you could kiss me?” You didn’t move an inch as his face moved right in front of yours, breath intermingling as you gazed into each other’s eyes. God, was this really happening?
“Yeah, guess your lessons worked,” he murmured.
“Well you better kiss me, then.”
As soon as your lips met, it was like coming home.
***
That memory, your favorite memory, replayed in your head as the three of you stepped into the elevator. Nat and Wanda were happily chatting about who would be there, what kind of antics Tony would cook up tonight, if there would be music we could actually dance to. You know, normal party things.
All you could think about was how long you had to stay until you could sneak off with your boyfriend.
You were so happy Wanda and Natasha had convinced you to wear this dress. When you’d first put it on, the difference from your normal look was so jarring that it took you a few minutes to get used to it. But now that you had, now that you felt the silky fabric shifting against your skin as you moved, now that you saw how dangerously long your legs looked in these heels…
Damn, you felt sexy.
And that sexy feeling? It made you want Bucky’s hands all over you.
But this was a party. A party thrown by Tony Stark, one of the most perceptive and observant people you’d ever met. If you left too soon, if he thought you weren’t “having enough fun”, he’d be more than a little upset. So you had to stay, drink, mingle, maybe dance a little…and then, maybe later, you could go do what you actually wanted.
The elevator pinged, indicating you had reached the topmost floor of the compound. This floor was home to a huge communal space, often used for just hanging out with the team. But on nights like tonight, Tony went all out and turned the space into something that resembled…a club?
The three of you stepped out into the massive room, upbeat music already blasting from the speakers. Typical Tony – he never really outgrew his love for dancing and parties. The bass thrummed through your body, making you want to move to the music. The lights were dim, but you could still tell who was around. It looked like you were some of the last members of the team to arrive. There was a huge bar off to the side, and Natasha headed that way right away. You turned to ask Wanda if she wanted to follow Nat, but she was already making a beeline for Vision. Smiling, you just turned right back around to follow Natasha. A drink sounded pretty good right now.
As you made your way to the bar, you felt more than a few pairs of eyes on you as you walked. You sneakily looked around as you went, noticing men and women watching you with admiration, and dare you say it, longing. As someone whose job was to blend in with the background all the time, this was a different and slightly addictive feeling. You leaned on the bar next to Nat right as the bartender slid her drink over to her.
“Straight whiskey tonight? Damn, going hard.” You quipped.
“Hey now, you know I can handle my liquor. It’s you we need to watch out for, you lightweight.”
Laughing, you scanned the party guests, looking for the one person you wanted to see. Tony had had arm around Pepper’s waist, both laughing at something Rhodey had said. Bruce lingered around them, drink in hand and looking a little nervous, but still happy to be included. Wanda and Vision were sitting quietly on one of the couches, both looking absolutely smitten with each other. Scott Lang, one of the newest additions, was busting some moves, while Peter Parker laughed as he watched. Thor, who was visiting from Asgard, laughed boisterously as he watched various guests try to lift his hammer. You couldn’t help the smile growing on your face. You loved these people so much.
Then, you saw him.
Bucky was with Sam and Steve, as usual. But even as Sam and Steve were talking animatedly next to him, those gorgeous blue eyes of his were glued to you. There was a kind of intensity in them you hadn’t seen before. Your breath whooshed from you body as he grinned at you. Trying to maintain the suggestive image your dress gave you, you managed to send a flirtatious smile his way, then turned back around to face the bar. Leaning against the counter, you knew he’d get an eyeful of your bare back. God, this was fun.
The bartender finally made his way over to you, and you ordered two tequila shots.
Nat turned to you, one eyebrow arched in surprise as she asked, “And you say I’m going hard? You can’t just down two shots right away, babe.”
“I’m not doing two shots; you think I’m stupid?” The bartender slid the shots over to you along with two lime wedges. “One is clearly for you.”
Unable to hold back a laugh, Natasha put her arm around your shoulders and pulled you into her side as she said, “Why the fuck not, let’s do it.” The two of you went through the process: salt, shot, lime. You couldn’t help but wince as you downed the harsh liquor. Of all the shots in the world, tequila probably tasted the worst. The only reason you kept going for it was the warmth it traced down your body, and you felt your muscles begin to loosen up.
“Two more,” you called over to the bartender.
“Uh, no,” Natasha shot at you, grabbing her whiskey, and pushing off the bar, “I’m good with my top shelf shit, you keep going after that gasoline if you want but I’m out.”
“C’mon, Nat,” you called out, “what am I gonna do with two shots?”
“I’m sure you’ll find someone else, babe.” She said with a wave over her shoulder.
Sighing, you turned back to the ridiculously pretty bar (seriously, how much had Tony paid for this thing?). Who else would help you look cool and sexy at a bar for your secret boyfriend?
Okay, that was the cringiest thought you’d ever had. Gross.
As the bartender slid the tequila in front of you, you steeled yourself for the nastiness that was about to happen.
“Fuck, I didn’t think this through,” you mumbled.
“Yeah, you tend to do that,” a deep voice answered on your right. Instead of being the slightest bit surprised, you couldn’t help but smile. You’d know that voice anywhere.
“Something I can do for you, Barnes?” You looked up at him from under your lashes.
“Well, it looks like you’ve got an extra shot there. Thought I could bail you out.”
“Is that all?”
Bucky shifted so that your arms were just barely touching. His hand was right next to yours, and you reached out with your pinky to lightly brush his.
“Doll, you have the gall to show up in that dress and ask what I want as if you don’t already know?”
“Sorry Buck, I’m a little slow, must be the tequila. You should probably be a little clearer.”
Putting on quite the show of reaching for one of the shots, his mouth somehow ended up right next to your ear.
“I want you.”
It was lucky everyone was so distracted and couldn’t see how you shuddered at his words. Trying to maintain brain function, you managed to take the shot with him. You were now fully facing each other. He was wearing the cockiest smirk you’d ever seen, one that would put Tony Stark to shame. You couldn’t help but respond with that same energy despite the jitteriness his three little words had reduced you to.
“Well why don’t you—”
“Hello, my friends!” A booming voice sounded between you as Thor threw a huge arm over each of you. Bucky, with his stupid super soldier strength, didn’t really have a reaction to it. You, on the other hand, stumbled a little under the weight and force of it. “It’s so good to be back with you tiny humans.”
Was…was he slurring his words?
“Thor…are you drunk right now?”
He simply laughed in response. Well, that answered that.
“Of course I am, tiny person! It can’t be a party without good Asgardian wine.”
“Wait…you have literal god wine?” Bucky, who had a look of vague irritation on his face up to this point, now looked interested. Maybe even a little excited?
“Of course, metal appendage.”
“Dude, you can’t just call Bucky ‘metal appendage’—”
“He can if he lets me have some,” Bucky interrupted.
“We have a bargain!” Thor slapped Bucky on the back before scurrying back over to where he had come from, probably to get the wine he had promised.
“Bucky, you can’t even get drunk,” you hissed, “what exactly is the point of this?”
“Since everything happened, I haven’t found any alcohol strong enough to get me drunk. I figure god wine is worth a shot.”
“Bucky—”
“When I kiss you against a wall later, I wanna be a little tipsy,” he whispered in your ear, “that cool with you?”
Unable to keep yourself from smiling again, you nodded as Thor sauntered back over. Ever since that moment a few weeks ago, right before he kissed you for the first time, asking “is that cool with you?” had become your thing.
And the idea of Bucky kissing you against a wall? Yeah, that sounded pretty good.
***
As it turns out, Asgardian wine is just as potent as Thor had promised.
For the first time in over seventy years, Bucky Barnes was certifiably drunk. It made him feel like the Bucky from all those years ago, and it was the most incredible thing. Here he was, over 100 years old, partying, and all his favorite people were here.
Including his ridiculously hot girlfriend.
Even as they both flitted around the party, Bucky and y/n still found each other’s eyes, even from across the room. They would send winks, smiles, even funny faces. All he wanted to do was be right next to her, talk and dance with her all night…
But they had agreed. They wanted to keep their relationship a secret for now, keep the attention off of them for a bit while they got to know each other in this new way.
But god damn, that dress.
Y/n in red was…indescribable. It didn’t matter what she wore, she was always the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. But in red? In this dress?
She was breathtaking.
“Buck, you breathing?”
A hand waved in front of his face, snapping Bucky’s attention back to the people around him from Y/n’s back. He had been imagining putting his hands all over that back later and had gotten more than a little mesmerized. He managed to get his eyes to refocus, finding a drunk Sam smirking right next to him and an even drunker Steve dancing next to him. But what Steve was doing couldn’t really be called ‘dancing’ per say…more like an aggressive wiggle.
“Why wouldn’t I be breathing?” Of all the things he could’ve said to get Sam’s attention off of him, that wasn’t it.
“Uh, probably because the girl you’re in love with decided to show up and show off tonight? Pretty sure you’re drooling, man.”
Despite himself, Bucky slapped a hand across his mouth, only reducing Sam to wheezing laughter. Knowing he had been caught, he rolled his eyes and grimaced a little. Of all the people to catch him, he wished it hadn’t been Sam.
“I wasn’t…staring… at y/n, I just never see her dressed up is all.”
“I never said anything about the girl being y/n.”
“…fuck.”
“LANGUAGE,” Steve yelled out, pointing a finger at his two friends before returning to his shimmying.
Turning back to him, Sam added, “Just go be with her, Buck. You’re not fooling anyone, and neither is she.”
“We’re that obvious?”
“A few weeks ago you’d at least try to hide it. Now I’m surprised you’re not jumping each other’s bones right here right now.”
“Point taken,” Bucky said, lightly slapping Sam’s shoulder before power walking over to his girl.
***
“Nat, if you don’t stop asking about Bucky and I’s relationship, I’m going to kick you,” you called over the music before taking another swig from your glass. It was no Asgardian wine, but the human stuff wasn’t half bad in your opinion. It wasn’t like you could drink the god shit, anyway. If you had even one sip, you’d be swinging from the ceiling like Miley fucking Cyrus. You were pretty drunk as it was.
“Okay, fine,” she said with a shrug as she took a sip of her whiskey, still as calm and collected as ever. “You’re almost as drunk as he is, you’ll be talking soon enough.”
“Oh? Is that your spy master plan?”
Natasha was still looking as unbothered as ever, but as she looked across the room over your shoulder, her face split into a savage grin.
“It was, but it looks like I might not need it.”
“What do you me—”
Your words were cut off as a large, warm hand enclosed around yours. Whirling around, you were suddenly face to face with the man himself. Bucky was clearly having a good time. His mouth was relaxed into the cutest smile you’d ever seen him wear, and he moved without his normal stiffness and intensity. He threaded your fingers together, smiling down at you with so much love it was a wonder Nat hadn’t said anything yet.
Looking back in front of you, ready to explain yourself, you only found empty air. Guess she’d seen all she needed to, but honestly, you really didn’t care. All you’d wanted the whole night was to be exactly where you were right now; hand in hand with the man you loved.
“We’re just kidding ourselves, doll,” Bucky called next to your ear, “Sam said we’ve been pretty obvious.”
“Nat said the same,” you answered with a sheepish smile, “kind of hard to keep my face under control when you’ve got that leather jacket on.”
“You’re blaming me?” He asked with mock indignation. “You’re the one who looks,” he gestured wildly to your whole body, “like that!”
Trying ignore the heat spreading over your cheeks, you shot back, “Like what?”
“Like the most…” he screwed his face up in the most adorable way as he searched for words, “like the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” As the last few words tumbled out of his mouth, he gazed at you with such a softness you almost melted right into the floor.
“Wanna get out of here?” You asked, finally giving up the game. It was pointless, really. Now, all you wanted to do was for your boyfriend to keep his promise and kiss you against a wall.
Wrapping an arm around your waist, he answered, “Absolutely.” Without looking at a single soul, the two of you began walking as quickly as you could for the exit. You and Bucky were both leaning on each other a bit, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Stepping out into the light of the hallway, you blinked as your eyes adjusted after the dark room you’d spent the last few hours in. Bucky led you until you were right in front of the elevator, and he lazily pressed the button to go up. There was tension in the air between you, like a thread that was being pulled. Biting your lip, you stared at the doors in front of you. You knew if you so much as looked at the man next to you, you’d jump him right then and there.
The shining doors slid open, and the pair of you walked in, his strong arm still around your waist. His grip wasn’t loose in any sense of the word. Bucky kept you right next to him, even as your legs wanted to drift all over the place. You pressed the button for the residential floor.
As soon as those doors slid shut, that thread of tension snapped.
Bucky whirled you to face him, then walked you backward until you were pressed against the wall of the elevator.
“I promised I’d kiss you against the wall, didn’t I?”
He didn’t even wait for a response. His mouth was on yours in an instant, lips moving together like a dance. The kiss was slow and unhurried. You tried to bring him closer, linking your hands behind his neck and pressing yourself to him. Instead of responding in kind, he unwound your arms from around him and pinned them above your head.
Oh damn.
Okay.
No complaints here.
“You’ve been teasin’ me all night just by wearing that dress, sweetheart,” he murmured in between the kisses he trailed down your jaw, “I think it’s my turn.”
“Would it change your mind knowing I only wore this dress so you could take it off?”
The heat that bloomed in those blue eyes of his was unmistakable. As the doors opened on your floor, he swept you up into his arms and began to walk purposefully to his apartment. All the while, he kept that signature cocky smirk of his you’d come to adore.
“Bucky?” You asked once he’d walked into his unit.
“That sentence was the single most attractive thing you’ve ever said,” he murmured as he set you down. Even still, he kept you pressed against him. “But nah, I’m a patient guy. I think I’ll take my time.” He followed this by resuming his slow and sensual kisses, and you couldn’t help but melt into them.
“I love you,” you whispered against his lips.
“I’ll never get tired of hearing that, doll. I love you too.”
***
520 notes · View notes
qyllenhaal · 3 years
Text
Muse
Pairing: Artist!Steve x Reader
Summary: Steve’s an artist, and you’re secretly his muse. 3rd POV. WC: 3.5k
Warnings: smut (18+ only, MDNI), oral (f receiving), unprotected sex. Fluff. Friends to lover.
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Steve knew it was a risk to quit his job and focus full-time on being an artist. His boss laughed in his face when he turned in his letter of resignation and asked Steve how much he thought his "little paintings" were going to make him. Steve didn't just face this scrutiny from his boss, but his friends too albeit not as harsh. Many of the people in his life didn't understand his passion for something that might leave him struggling, but Y/n was always there encouraging him.
"You may struggle for a little bit, but I think it's great Steve! Only one day into your new life as an artist and you already seem happier!"
Steve has known Y/n for almost a decade. They met under odd circumstances that some would consider a meet cute. She's still so sweet and bubbly just like she was the day he met her. It wasn't hard for him to fall head-over-heels for her. She always has a kind word and an open ear even during times of distress.
Sometimes he blushes when she gives him a compliment. She claims to not know anything about art, but every time he shows her something new she always has something stark to say that sticks with him. Maybe it's because it's coming from her.
His time spent alone in his studio is sacred. He converted a room in his apartment into a makeshift studio and he finds so much solace in those four walls. He has wanted to dabble in painting live subjects, maybe even a nude model or too, but he found himself getting real shy about it. He'd love to have someone to pose and to capture the way the light perfectly hits their face. That someone he imagined was often Y/n.
He was shocked when she allowed him to make her his subject. It started with him asking to paint a few photos of her she had lying around for "practice." Y/n was more than happy to help her friend Steve, only under the condition that he show her the final product. Steve found no problem in showing off the pastoral setting paintings he created, but it was much more harder to show off paintings of the person he thinks is the most beautiful person in the world.
Just like he couldn't muster up the confidence to ask anyone else to be his model, Steve could never ask Y/n to model for him in person. He found himself becoming too shy whenever the question was on the tip of his tongue. It would be much better if he were here in person with him, but he opted for photos of her clipped to his easel for reference. He'd finish a painting in one day and send her a photo via text of the finished product.
“I really look like that? It's amazing Steve!”
But eventually he ran out of photos. He tried to reuse some old ways and paint in a different style, or play with the colors, but it was beginning to become stale. Steve needed something new, but he didn't want to let go of Y/n as his subject.
"So you need new pictures?"
"Yeah — it's fine if you don't have any more," he tries to play it off as if he doesn't have 10 canvases in his studio of paintings of her that he hasn't shown her.
"We could take some more. Do you still have that digital camera you got a few Christmas' ago?"
"No. I think it got lost when I moved."
"Oh. Well I think Sam has a camera we can borrow. It's one of those fancy ones, right?"
Steve agreed to ask Sam to borrow his camera, but he honestly wishes that he had just bought his own. The amount of teasing he had to endure when he explained to Sam exactly why he needed the camera made his skin heat up. He couldn't stop his cheeks from becoming rosy when Sam asked when is he finally going to tell Y/n how he feels about her. Steve doesn't want to ruin what they have just in case Y/n rejects him. He'd much rather wallow in his school boy crush than put a strain on their friendship.
"How do you want me to pose?"
Y/n sat on the lone couch in Steve's studio room. It wasn't the best quality but it was still useful.
The curtains were drawn to shield the sun that was nearly set. The lighting in the room was dim save for the soft light coming from a small lamp pointed at her. It casted a warm, yellowish light onto her skin. She wore a white dress and kicked her shoes off at the front door.
"Whatever comes natural to you," his voice is weak as he responds. The atmosphere of the room is slightly romantic and he can't shake his nerves. Everything feels extremely intimate.
Y/n is almost as nervous as Steve. She's never modeled for someone and it feels a little bit awkward. She's always comfortable around Steve, but she can't help but get a little nervous when she sees Steve with the camera in his hands.
"You look perfect like that," he compliments the half-asses pose she's doing before snapping the first photo. He looks at the preview before the camera's screen could go dark.
"Let me see." He shows her and she just nods her head, "let me adjust myself," she whispers.
Y/n unbuttons the first two buttons of her dress, exposing more of her chest that only gives a glimpse of her breast. Steve pretended to not notice it as he took another picture of her. Once again Y/n asked to see the photo and looked a little more satisfied with it this time.
"Do you think that I could — nevermind."
"What is it Y/n?" He asks with a soft laugh that makes her want to melt.
"Do you think I could unbutton my dress all the way?" Her voice faltered as she asked. She watched Steve's reaction intently. She hopes the question doesn't make him uncomfortable. "It's just that I was looking up some ideas online so I could prepare and I saw this really pretty picture of this model and she was semi-nude but it was really pretty so I wanted to ask if we could try it," she explained; or perhaps over-explained.
Steve was completely dumbfounded. If Y/n couldn't see it in his dropped jaw, then she can see it in the way he just freezes.
"It's okay if that's too much."
"No! No, it's okay."
Y/n gave him a half smile before she began to unbutton the front of her dress. Steve tried to look away, but how could he not? The more she revealed herself, the easier it was for him to see the swell of her breast. Her skin looks so soft and he feels compelled to reach out and caress her bare skin. But he keeps his hands to himself.
"Is this too much?" The puffy sleeves of her dress were off of her shoulder and her dress was all the way open until the middle of her stomach. It's a lot for him to handle, but he feels blessed to see such a sight.
"No. It's perfect. You're perfect."
Y/n's skin heats up despite the room being cold. She was starting to get a weird feeling in the pit of her stomach. It wasn't a bad one or an uncomfortable feeling, but it was something she wasn't used to.
Now she's half-naked and posing on his couch. The first few photos he took of her like this were awkward as they both had to adjust to Y/n being half-naked.
Steve couldn't ignore the way the cold air made her nipples hard and breast tender. Steve was supposed to be on his best behavior, but he is seconds away from making a stupid mistake with his best friend.
Y/n arches her back which makes her breast jut out at him. Steve pauses to pray that he doesn't get a hard on. He feels a bit like a scumbag for even having this dilemma. It's just his best friend's half-naked body — that looks so soft and tender.
He forced himself to steel his resolve and hurry up and finish the task at hand. He began to treat her more like a model instead of the best friend he has a crush on.
"Try this," he suggests to her to move her body in a different way, which she does, but it's not quite what he wants. He was hesitant to get his hands on her, but he went for it anyway, "a little more like this."
In the process of moving her body, his hand brushed against her nipple. Y/n involuntarily let out a moan which made both of them pause. They looked at each other before Y/n let out a nervous laugh to try to play it off.
"Sorry," Steve apologizes.
"It's okay."
He glosses over what just happened and goes back to moving her body to her liking. He can't get over how good she feels underneath him. The truth is that he was taking his time to be able to have this experience for much longer. He may never have this kind of closeness with her again and he just can't quite let go.
Y/n watches his face as his hands touch her body. He looks so handsome under this lighting and Y/n wonders if she's always felt this way about Steve. For some reason she feels lust swirling inside of her. She hopes she isn't making a mistake when she leans forward and kisses him. Steve freezes under her kiss, stunned by reality, but he lets it happen. Her lips feel so soft against his, just like he always imagined.
She pulls away and places her forehead against his. Steve still has his eyes closed, lost in the dream that is Y/n's closeness.
"You can open your eyes now," she teases him. He obeys her and laughs along with her.
"I've wanted this for so long," he admits.
The revelation is shocking to her. She had no idea he felt this way about her, but now she wonders how much she's been oblivious to.
"Do you want this, Y/n? The last thing I want is for you to feel uncomfortable."
"No, no — I want this Steve. I wanna feel you touching me," her voice became somewhat whiny as desire fueled her.
With her blessing, Steve did not hold back. He kissed her hard, the way he imagined he would always kiss her. Imagine the way his heart nearly stopped when Y/n kissed him back with the same amount of fervor and want. Her hand came up and rested against the stubble on his cheek. They wish they could say their kiss was delicate, but it was not; it was sloppy and their tongues danced with each other.
When Steve pulls away, he's out of breath, but he's happy. The light touches he gave to her body earlier were not a bit rougher. He wants to explore every inch of her body in seconds, but he wants to be patient; he has all night to discover every inch of her.
"Touch me right here, Steve."
Y/n places his hands on her breast with his thumbs in reach of her nipples. Steve's thumb runs across her taut nipples which makes her sigh. "You like that?" He asks with a bit more confidence. She nods her head and her approval emboldens him. “Good.”
His lips ghost across the skin on her neck before he places a wet kiss against the skin on her throat. He can feel her breath hitch every time he places a tender kiss on her flesh. She smells like lavender and it makes him feel dizzy. He keeps playing with her nipples as he begins to suck on her neck. Y/n wants to just lay there and take in the feeling of him spoiling her, but she also wants to hear him moan. She strokes the bulge in his pants with her knee and she feels him groan against her skin. He lightly grinds himself against her knee to relieve all of the tension that built up inside of him. Neither of them are sure who wants who more, but it doesn’t matter to either of them. Knowing that this is an equal exchange of love and lust is enough for the two of them.
“Oh god Steve,” Y/n coos when he sucks on the most sensitive part of her neck. They’ve only just begun, but he makes her feel so good. A part of her is wishing that she had discovered Steve’s crush on her a long time ago, but she has him now and that’s all that matters.
“I wanna make you feel good,” he says against her skin, “I wanna make you cum.”
Y/n can’t help but moan at his confession. She can already imagine how it would feel to have him between her legs.
“Please Steve!”
Steve sits up just to push her dress up. The cotton panties she wears has a pink bow sewn onto it and he finds it adorable. He glances back up at her and he notices that she’s looking away from him. She’s now feeling bashful knowing that he’s going to see her completely naked even though she wants all of this and more. “It’s okay, pretty girl,” Steve pacifies her by slowly stroking her outer thigh. She finally looks at him, her pupils wide with lust. She almost sighs in content when he starts to slide her panties down. The cool air of the rooms only heats her up once it hits her hot sex.
“My god,” Steve whispers to himself. She looks so pretty, but she’s absolutely messy between her legs. She places her foot on the back of his couch to spread herself wider for him. “Good girl.”
Steve lowers himself between her legs and just stares at her for a moment. He wants to remember this for the rest of his life just in case this is the last time something like this happens between the two of them. He would be crushed if Y/n asked to just continue on as friend’s after this, but he would be eternally grateful that she granted him this opportunity. All he wants to do is make her feel good; his pleasure will follow suit, but it’s all about her.
One of his fingers runs along the edge of her folds. Y/n whimpers at the delicate way he treats her body. She feels so lucky to have someone so kind and sweet like Steve. He touches her with care, and love is in every stroke. “You’re so perfect,” he says before kissing her inner thigh. Every part of her body is sensitive but somehow she is able to withstand it all.
The first lick to her pussy overblows both of their senses. She’s sweet like honey and juicy like a peach. Steve’s first instinct is to groan against her pussy which sends vibration throughout her entire body. She feels like she’s on fire as all of the blood in her body goes straight to her sensitive nub. His tongue focuses on her clit and she’s in heaven. Steve’s tongue moves with so much skill and precision, but most importantly, passion. Steve treats her like he truly wants her, and Y/n can’t help but fall for him at this moment.
“You taste so good,” he coos against her slick.
The way he paws at her body while licking her pussy makes her feel like she’s being worshiped. Tears well in her eyes the harder he sucks at her clit. She hopes his neighbors’ aren’t home because they’d probably be annoyed at the loud sounds of her cries of pleasure. He has her on the edge and it just takes him rolling her nipples with his fingers that finally push her over.
“Don’t stop, don’t stop!”
Her cries are so angelic to him. And as much as he wants to keep licking her out, Steve needs to be inside of her so bad. He tames himself and pulls his mouth away from her to pull himself out of his pants. His incredibly hard, the head of his cock an angry red as it leaks pre-cum. “This is what you do to me,” his words are haunting. Y/n whines and wiggles her hips from being so impatient.
Steve lowers himself and presses the head of her cock at her opening. She’s so slippery that he pushes into her with ease. His cock is so big that she inhales sharply as she takes all of him inside of her. Her walls are like silk around him.
“So tight baby — oh god.”
Steve feels like he’s going to explode already. Her pussy is squeezing him and she looks up at him with wide eyes as she takes his cock like a good girl. It is the hardest task he’s ever faced in his life to not cum already. She just feels so good.
“Are you okay?” He asks sweetly before dipping his head to kiss her forehead.
She nods her head, “yes, Steve…feels so good,” she manages to speak coherently.
Her legs were thrown over his legs which allows him to fuck deeper into her. She looks so beautiful underneath him. Steve wants to feel her cum on his cock so bad. She flutters around him when he pulls out of her only to push back in seconds later.
Steve can only control himself for so long before he’s pounding into her. The cry of his name on her lips is so saccharine that it gives him a sweet tooth. He sucks on the skin of her neck to satisfy that need while Y/n places her hand on the back of his head as she moans for him.
“I’m gonna cum Steve! You’re going to make me cum!”
The ridges of his cock feels so good inside of her, but what really does it for her is how the head of his cock is kissing her cervix. The stretch of his cock is such a delicious burn that she wants him inside forever. With his face planted in her neck, lips kissing at her skin, Y/n is completely enamored with the way Steve consumes all of her. She is his just as much as he is her.
He feels her sex squeeze him one more time before she’s cumming all around him. She clings to him as her orgasm ravages through her. Steve fucks her through it before reluctantly pulling out of her. Her jerks himself off until he’s cumming all over her pretty tits, painting her body like she’s one of the world’s most precious masterpieces.
The two are completely spent as their limbs dangle off of his couch. Y/n’s heart is full feeling his cum cooling on her chest. She dips a finger in his spent and sucks it off, savoring his taste since she didn’t get a chance to go down on him. Steve almost passes out at the sight.
“You’re crushing my legs Steve,” she laughs warmly. He rolls off of her and off of the couch entirely.
Steve grabs a towel and starts t0 clean up her chest. He remembers what they were supposed to be accomplishing, but after what just happened between the two of them, Steve is certain he won’t be anxious about asking her to be his model again.
“So, where do we go from here?”
The question catches him off guard. He slowly wipes away his cum with the damp towel from her chest. As much as finding the answer to this question is hard, he is happy that she asked it because it means that she’s giving him a chance.
“I don’t want this to be the last time we do this,” Steve admits. He’s quickly become addicted to the way their foreheads pressed together; it just feels so intimate. “I love you too much for this to be the last time we ever spend like this together.”
As much as tonight has been shocking to her after the revelation of Steve proving to her that he loves her, she’s only overwhelmed with positive emotions.
“Then let’s not let this be the last time,” she whispers against his lips.
A wave of relief washes over Steve as he just lays there against, their bare bodies pressed against each other as if this is always how it should’ve been. His only hope is that they can stay like this forever.
254 notes · View notes
extasiswings · 3 years
Note
“i’ll keep you warm” eddie has a nightmare post-shooting 👀 (or however you wanna write it!)
This was not supposed to be this long...rated M-ish for some mild smut at the end. On ao3 here.
The thing Eddie remembers most about the shooting isn’t the shot itself, or the pain, or even the fear—it’s the cold. The icy numbness of shock curling down his spine, twisting through his veins like tendrils of frost creeping across a windowpane in winter. Cold, as his pulse skyrocketed, his body’s signals all crossed and confused and trying to circulate blood, not seeming to grasp the fact that his blood was seeping out onto the asphalt beneath him, that trying to circulate it faster was just making it worse. Cold, like he was a stupid kid at camp diving into a frigid lake before dawn, except above him was blue sky and a bright sun beating down and the fact that it was Los Angeles in May didn’t do a damn thing to help.
He couldn’t feel it. He could only feel the cold.
Buck, though—Buck, he felt. Buck’s hands burned, on his chest, his neck, his face, so warm that Eddie almost wanted to flinch away, but he didn’t. He was aware enough to realize that if Buck was warm, he was probably telling the truth when he said he wasn’t hurt. And that was good. That was all he needed to know.
The cold—
Eddie’s been through enough in his life to know that his subconscious works in weird ways. After Afghanistan he dreamed more directly of burning helicopters and gunfire, blood in his mouth and smoke on his tongue. Shadows and screams and guilt. After the well his dreams were of Christopher, Shannon, waves crashing on a beach. And Buck. Sunlight.
This time...this time Eddie dreams of drowning. Trapped beneath ice, his hands slamming against it, eventually forced to inhale—water flooding his mouth, his throat, his lungs—cold, cold, cold—
Sometimes after he wakes he’ll spend hours shivering. Phantom chills that won’t go away even when he wraps himself in blankets.
The therapist he’s mandated to see before he can be cleared for work tells him that the brain doesn’t always process trauma by taking the most direct path. Eddie doesn’t know why his has fixated on this. The cold. Maybe it’s just easiest. Because the shooting—
His chest gets tight when he’s walking in open air. Sweat breaks out across his brow when the sunlight glints off of windows. His pulse races.
He can’t breathe.
It feels a little like drowning.
“Do you feel safe?” Dr. Kingston asks one session. And Eddie thinks about freezing in a grocery store parking lot, gripping the edge of a cart to keep his hands from shaking, thinks about Buck curving a hand around his shoulder, solid and warm—
“Sometimes,” Eddie admits. “It depends.”
“Depends on what?”
He tastes the lie on his tongue before it slips out.
“I don’t know.”
*
When the world shut down and Eddie had to leave Christopher with his abuela so that he could keep working without worrying constantly that he was putting his son at risk, Buck’s was the obvious place to go. And Eddie doesn’t know if things would have been different if it had been just the two of them but Hen and Chim deciding it was also the obvious place for them to go meant there weren’t a lot of options for sleeping arrangements.
So Eddie shared the bed with Buck. And it didn’t matter if either of them wound up wrapped around the other, the lines of their bodies pressed close enough to bleed together. If they curled into one another like plants twisting to find the light.
It was...instinct. To seek comfort. Warmth. Touch. Both of them alone for so long, and just needing—
Needing.
They never talked about it—there wasn’t anything to talk about. If it made Eddie’s heart race, if it made him ache for something he hadn’t expected and didn’t wholly understand, if when he returned home alone again his own bed felt too empty, that was his own problem.
Now, though—
Now, he knows. Because he stood frozen on the street and stared at Buck with Carla’s words in his head—make sure you’re following your heart—and realized oh. It hadn’t just been convenience, it had been love. Need and desire and love.
Now, he knows, but doesn’t know what to do with that knowledge, with the awareness he has suddenly. Buck is living in his house, in his space, helping him with Christopher and with his own recovery, making sure he takes his meds and gets to his appointments and does his exercises. Buck is there all the time and it’s a blessing and a curse because Eddie burns whenever Buck touches him.
And Buck touches him. A lot.
He hadn’t at first, right after Eddie came home from the hospital—Eddie would catch him sometimes looking like he wanted to, but holding back, reaching out but stopping himself, and Eddie never asked why. Even now he doesn’t think he ever needed to—he knows what it’s like to be afraid, to be unsteady, adrift, worrying that touching something you expect to be solid will reveal it’s just an illusion. Not wanting to find out if it is.
But Buck touches him now. And sometimes Eddie will wake up to find that Buck’s migrated from the couch in the living room to a chair by his bed, folded in and fitfully asleep. Buck never says, but Eddie’s pretty sure it’s so Buck can reassure himself that Eddie’s still breathing.
Eddie understands that need too. Sometimes he isn’t sure himself.
The first time it happens after Buck’s relationship with Taylor has flamed out—for himself, he and Ana have been over since just after he left the hospital—Eddie finally just gets up.
“Buck.” He curves a hand around the side of Buck’s neck and passes his thumb along the edge of his jaw.
Buck startles awake, looking somehow guilty.
“I didn’t wake you up, did I? Sorry, I know it’s—I can go back to the—”
“Will you just come to bed?” Eddie interrupts before Buck successfully talks himself into leaving the room. “Please?”
Buck’s eyes flick down to his shoulder. He swallows hard.
“I don’t want to—”
Oh.
“You won’t hurt me,” Eddie promises. “Okay?”
Buck searches his face in the dark, but if he sees anything, he clearly doesn’t mind because he nods and gets up from the chair. When they both resettle on the mattress, Buck only pauses for a moment before curving around him like a parenthesis, his arm falling across Eddie’s waist.
Eddie’s breath catches.
“Is this—?”
Eddie closes his eyes and sinks into the embrace. If it feels just a little bit like cheating because he hasn't told Buck how he feels, that’s between him and god.
“It’s fine,” he assures, then adds to make it a little more fair, “you aren’t the only one who needs—you aren’t the only one.”
Buck relaxes at that, his grip tightening a little with newfound certainty.
When Eddie dreams, he doesn’t drown.
*
“You look good,” Dr. Kingston acknowledges two weeks later. “You’ve been sleeping better?”
“Yeah,” Eddie replies. “I stopped having nightmares, so I haven’t been waking up as much.”
He catches the surprise that flickers across her face.
“They stopped completely?” She asks. “Have you been doing something different or—?”
Eddie shifts in his chair and clears his throat. What is he supposed to tell her? That he stopped having nightmares when he started sleeping with Buck every night? He’s not really ready to unpack that with his therapist—he’s barely ready to unpack it in his own head.
“Just lucky, I guess,” he says. Dr. Kingston puts down her pen and levels him with a long look that tells him she knows that’s bullshit and is trying to decide whether to push or let it go until another time.
She lets it go.
“Well,” she replies. “I’m glad to hear it.”
Eddie feels like he’s dodged another bullet.
Later, though, he wonders if he shouldn’t have said more. If he shouldn’t have asked questions. Because he goes to sleep and—
The water is pitch black and freezing. Eddie’s eyes sting, but it doesn’t matter whether he keeps them open or not—there’s nothing to see. He kicks his legs anyway, swims up, up, up, even though it hurts to make his limbs work when they’re so cold. There’s a faint light—the surface—and he kicks harder, desperate to reach—
Ice. Nothing but a sheet of ice, solid and thick. His lungs burn from lack of air, his palms beat against the ice—
He can’t keep moving. It’s too cold. He can’t—
“Eddie. Eddie.” Hands seize him from nowhere, almost too warm, and Eddie could have sworn the ice had no cracks, but he’s being lifted out—
“Eddie.”
He snaps awake, gasping. Buck’s face swims into view, worry painted across every line. His hands are on Eddie’s shoulders.
They’re so warm.
Eddie shivers.
“You were hyperventilating,” Buck says. “I thought—”
“Just a dream,” Eddie grits out, trying to keep his teeth from chattering. He still feels frozen. Stupid—it was a dream, it wasn’t real, so he shouldn’t—it shouldn’t be this difficult.
He shivers again.
Buck’s brow furrows deeper.
“You’re shaking—are you cold?”
Eddie sits up and scrubs his hands over his face. He swallows back the denial on his tongue, the urge to run away and hide in the bathroom until a scalding shower makes him feel somewhat human again. Maybe he can’t always be honest with his therapist, but he can be honest with Buck.
“Yes,” he admits. “But it’s not—it’s just in my head. When I got shot I—it’s hard to explain but, yes. I’m cold. Freezing. I don’t know how—”
He cuts off and Buck shifts on the mattress, reaches out slowly so Eddie has plenty of time to stop him if he doesn’t want to be touched, and finally wraps his arms around him, pulling Eddie firmly against his chest.
“I’ll keep you warm,” Buck says quietly. And Eddie—
Something in him cracks. Not like ice during a thaw, but resolve after too much time of being worn down, pressure applied in precisely the right spot. He’s raw and ragged and his scarred heart hardly feels like anything anyone should want, but he’s so tired of pretending he hasn’t been trying to press it into Buck’s hands for a year in different ways. He’s tired of not asking and being afraid and waiting. He’s tired—
Buck makes a soft sound of surprise when Eddie kisses him. But he doesn’t push him away. And Eddie can’t help himself from pressing closer, curling one hand into Buck’s shirt and the other around the back of his neck and kissing him again and again and again, feeling altogether too frantic. He’ll probably find it in himself to be embarrassed in the morning, but want and desperation have left very little room for shame at the moment.
Buck kisses him back. His hands drop to Eddie’s hips as Eddie does his best to climb into his lap.
“Eddie,” Buck pants between kisses. “Eddie—I—” His head falls back and Eddie takes the opportunity to continue his exploration down the exposed line of Buck’s neck.
“Should we talk about this?” Buck finally manages, even as his own hands flirt with the hem of Eddie’s shirt.
Eddie freezes. The answer, of course, is yes. But talking is the last thing he wants to do when part of him still feels chilled to the bone, not wholly alive. He wants to be touched, wants to be consumed, wants to fall into orbit around Buck’s sun and never leave.
And it’s late. Dark. The two of them, the bed, the very room caught in a liminal space where anything could happen, anything could be said, anything could be forgiven. Eddie can’t decide if that’s a good thing or a dangerous one.
His mouth drags along the edge of Buck’s jaw.
“This isn’t because I wanted someone and you happened to be here, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
He doesn’t look at Buck’s face. It’s easier to not, to focus on something else. He stopped going to confession a long time ago, but he never had to look directly at his priest either, always some curtain or other barrier obscuring things, lending the illusion of privacy, anonymity.
“I’m in love with you,” he admits, and Buck’s hands flex on his hips. “I’ve been in love with you. So we can talk about this if you want, but—”
In an instant, Eddie’s on his back, the rest of his sentence swallowed up by the tongue sliding into his mouth. Buck is a warm, solid weight on top of him, pinning him, anchoring him, and Eddie finds he doesn’t mind when it forces him to be in the moment, reminds him that he’s fully in his own body.
“I love you, too,” Buck whispers when the kiss breaks, and then he’s pushing Eddie’s shirt up and off and dispensing with his own—
Shannon was his first. Eddie wasn’t hers and he remembers being glad that at least one of them had some idea of what to do because the second she touched him he was so overwhelmed by sensation that he could hardly think.
This is…not dissimilar. Buck’s chest presses flush against his, all warm, bare skin, and Eddie feels like he could drown in a different way. He arches up, seeking Buck’s mouth again, and Buck obliges.
Eddie’s focus narrows to certain points—the slick slide of Buck’s tongue against his, Buck’s hand ghosting along his ribs, the careful space between their hips and the low burn of heat in his gut that makes him want to close the gap—
His hands slide up Buck’s back slowly, his fingers tracing the knobs of Buck’s spine, the sharp edges of his shoulder blades—they dance along the line of his shoulders too, sketching the breadth that he’s noticed but never allowed his thoughts to linger on. His touch is careful, reverent, as if Buck is a holy thing that his stained, sinner hands have no business touching. Perhaps, in a sense that’s true.
He’s never been a very good Catholic, but sex—sex, desire, love—sex has always been something…sacred to him. In high school, he shied away from the locker room-style conversations about who went how far with whom, kept out of any discussion involving lamentations about still being a virgin at graduation. For one thing, he thought they were usually crass and disrespectful. But mainly he just—he didn’t care about waiting until marriage or anything like that, but he always knew he wanted to be in love. Hence, Shannon. And why there hadn’t been anyone after her.
Until now.
Eddie kisses Buck until his lungs ache, but he’s not close enough, feels like he can’t get close enough. One of his hands slides into Buck’s hair, but the other trails back down, presses lightly on Buck’s lower back as his own hips rock up, seeking friction. Buck swears against his lips and closes the distance—Eddie can feel him hard in his sweatpants and flushes, dizzy at the thought of having made that happen, dizzy at the thought of more, dizzy—
He feels very much like a clumsy teenager again, fumbling his way through on instinct. At least this sort of thing is familiar, even if he hasn’t done it with a man before. Buck grinds their hips together, the friction sending sparks through every one of Eddie’s nerve endings, and kisses down his neck, teeth scraping over his pulse point. Eddie gasps and Buck hums, low and pleased, against his skin.
And then, just as he thinks he’s used to the slow burn of pleasure, Buck shifts his weight and slides a hand down to toy with Eddie’s waistband. Buck meets his eyes in the dark and swallows hard.
“Can I—?”
This time, when Eddie shivers it has nothing to do with the cold.
“Please,” he rasps, and Buck smiles before tugging Eddie’s pants down just enough to wrap his hand around Eddie’s cock.
Buck’s touch is a little tentative at first, clearly unused to the angle, and the part of Eddie that’s still capable of noticing that spends a brief moment feeling grateful that he’s not the only one lacking in experience here. But what Buck may lack in experience, he makes up for in enthusiasm, experimenting with grip and speed and pressure to figure out exactly what to do to make Eddie gasp again, to make him bite his lip, to make him hide his face in Buck’s shoulder to muffle any louder noises he can’t quite hold back.
It doesn’t take long. Even before the shooting, Eddie rarely bothered to touch himself with any sort of regularity, and during his recovery he had even less of a reason to do so, what little energy he had in the first few months better spent elsewhere. He hadn’t realized how badly he needed it. But clearly his body did because his orgasm hits him like a train when Buck spits into his hand for extra glide and twists his wrist on the upstroke. He bites Buck’s shoulder and Buck’s hips jerk and then he’s just floating—boneless, breathless, and utterly wrecked in the best possible way.
Buck collapses on the mattress next to him as Eddie’s catching his breath—Eddie reaches out, his hand skating over Buck’s stomach, and makes a questioning noise. Buck laughs quietly and catches his hand, bringing it to his lips.
“I, uh—I’m good,” Buck promises, and even in the dark Eddie can see his cheeks flush.
Eddie curls into his side. “Really?”
Buck kisses him. “I don’t think you realize how long I’ve wanted to do that. Or how good you look. So, yes, I already—yes. Really.”
Eddie’s lips curve up. He presses a kiss to the edge of Buck’s jaw. As the immediate aftermath wears off, his eyelids start to grow heavy, his limbs moving a little less easily.
“We should probably shower,” he acknowledges, although the strength of the statement is likely diminished by the yawn that interrupts him halfway through.
“Probably,” Buck agrees, but he too makes no move to actually get up.
Pressed against him as he is, Eddie is warm and sated and content. He drifts, skirting the edge of sleep.
“I love you,” he says again. Because it feels important.
Buck hums. If he says something else, it’s too low for Eddie to catch.
When he dreams again, he doesn’t dream of drowning. He doesn’t dream of the cold.
Instead, there’s just light. Just warmth.
Just Buck.
350 notes · View notes
kaeyasaki · 3 years
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— ❝ HOUSE RULES ❞
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miya atsumu x f!reader
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after coming back home from an overseas trip, atsumu comes back home to discover that his pretty little wife seems to have let a few certain rules slip, it’s a good thing he’s more than happy to help her revise them. — wc; 4K
thank you so so much @tsumue for beta reading, you helped so much fr hottie <3
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dt; @7tsumurai i told you i’d get out a fic im happy with for you when i had more time and here it is, i love you so very much and thank you for everything you’ve done for me, you’re a real life saver and i wouldn’t want anyone other than you as my hot milf mommy <3
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warnings; nsfw, unprotected sex, dumbification, rough sex, degradation, slapping, misogynistic behaviour + overstimulation bye i really said i didn’t have it in me
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slotting his house key into the lock, atsumu had a content smile gracing his face as the next scene he assumed to be ahead of him was already playing out in his head.
you in a pretty dress he had so graciously bought and maybe even one of those cute frilly aprons he’d insisted upon gifting you. you would drop your cooking utensil immediately upon his arrival and rush over to him to take care of his jacket and bags while chanting about how desperately you missed your dear husband while he was away. atsumu would then shower you with the attention you had been missing out on and he’d have his darling little wife sit on his lap mindlessly chattering about how much she needed him.
atsumu was sure this was what was going to play out before him as soon as he opened the door.
so why the fuck had he opened the door to see otherwise?
his eyes twitched with irritation slightly at the sight of you in sweats on the couch lazily scrolling through your phone, but he refused to throw a fit immediately. he was kind enough to allow you the chance to explain yourself, afterall, he was adamant he was a good husband to you. the best husband to you.
“baby.” his voice rang clearly through the room as your head perked up at the sound of his voice. immediately you smiled upon seeing him as you hopped off the couch and dropped your phone to wander over to him. while you offered atsumu a warm smile, it didn’t seem to be reciprocated as a small but familiar glint in his eye told you enough to know something was off.
“i missed you.” you tried to shake that look from him as you wrapped your arms around his slim torso and inhaled the scent you’d found yourself missing over the week. “yeah?” he questioned as you looked up to meet his still piercing eyes. “of course.” you sighed before burying your face back into his chest for a moment.
for just a second, atsumu forgot why he was even mad. did he even have a right to be mad? he had a nice house, a job he loved and most importantly, the most perfect little wife. but then it all came back to him and the irritation stayed present as he stared down at you wrapped around his body.
the perfect little wife should have her husband’s dinner cooking and ready to be served upon his arrival. the perfect little wife should be dressed appropriately according to her husband's personal preferences which in atsumu’s case, were the dainty little outfits he was constantly having you try on and strut around the house in. the perfect little wife should respond appropriately whilst talking to her husband which for atsumu meant he’d prefer you at least pretend to be a little more mindlessly excited about seeing him again.
maybe you weren’t his perfect little wife anymore, but he could only blame himself. you were just too stupid to think for yourself, how could atsumu blame you for forgetting the rules he has in place if he hadn’t been around to remind you of them this past week? no matter, he’d just have to remind you as many times as it took to get these demands through to that pretty head of yours.
“i think someone’s forgotten a few things since i left.” atsumu stated flatly as you pulled away from him, eyes desperately looking up at him pleading to know where you had fucked up.
“i have?” you questioned, hands tugging at the hem of his jacket a little. you looked down refusing to continue looking at the disappointed expression of the man you loved the most knowing you had caused him to be upset.
atsumu smiled slightly as you slowly began to fall back into your submissive ways as he brought his hand down to hook his fingers under your chin forcing you to look up at him. his eyes were a little softer than before as thoughts of your kind and wonderful husband flooded your senses once more. you felt so terrible upsetting him as soon as he had come home. this was the man who insisted upon giving you anything and everything you ever asked for on a silver platter. he spoiled you to no ends and always pampered you to the point where it was clear you were his brat.
desperately wanting to make up for your out of line behaviour, you pulled the jacket off of atsumu and took his bags from his hand as he hummed in approval. the slightest grain of praise sent your head into turmoil as only thoughts of atsumu were permitted to dance around in there. smiling at him, you turned towards the direction of your bedroom before you were stopped by atsumu’s voice.
“and when you come back, i want to see ya dressed how you know yer meant to be.” you gave him a quick nod as you hurried to your shared bedroom to drop his things and throw on an outfit you knew would be approving of him.
carefully scanning through your choice, you finally decided on wearing a cute little cami mini dress atsumu had bought you a few months back. the soft material stopped at your mid thigh as the short spaghetti straps held the dress up your body as the material tugged around you in all the right places. determined to show atsumu you were extra sorry, you grabbed a delicate apron he had bought you a few weeks beforehand and it was one you were yet to wear. the dainty frills and clean material were tied around your waist as you stared at your reflection back in the mirror.
you had missed atsumu, really, but you had missed this routine more and you were grateful your husband was kind enough to keep you in check whenever you slipped up rather than blow up over it.
you really were a lucky wife.
satisfied with your appearance, you pattered down the stairs to find atsumu leaning against the kitchen counter scanning over the meal you had been cooking prior to his return left cold on the stove. noticing your presence, atsumu smiled at your outfit as he open his arms for you to fall into. “at least you got one thing right.” he sighed as you nodded noting he was referring to the meal you had been preparing just thirty minutes before he had stepped through the door.
pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, atsumu pulled away before tapping your inner thigh making you jolt slightly. “well, get to it, i’ve had a long journey and i’m starvin’.” he sighed, smile still slightly evident on his face.
you nodded and stood over the stove before turning it on. the cooking process was simple, it was practically just a matter of heating the food up as atsumu never required you to do any actual heavy cooking. he’d never dare have you do anything that could potentially callous or wear down your soft hands that he loved having you run all over his body. he only ever put you to a little more work when it came to taking care of certain things. housework and cooking were mundane things he liked to let you get off with lightly. preserving your energy to have you selfishly take care of his personal needs.
two minutes went by before you felt a looming presence behind you. instinctively, you stepped back slightly allowed atsumu to wrap his arms around your waist and press his body up against yours from behind. thumbs traced small circles over the sides of your waist as you tried to keep your focus on the food on the stove careful not to burn it. not that atsumu would particularly care if you did, ordering in was always an option, but he’d always let you have a try and providing for him beforehand.
your head was going light as your husband's hot breath fanned right against your ear as you struggled to keep your focus on the stove. “i’m disappointed.” atsumu sighed lowly sending shivers through your body as he leaned in closer. “i thought i’d taught ya well enough to be able to remember how things work around here.”
your heart tugged at the degrading tone he was using whether it was intentional or not before atsumu continued. “it’s a shame really, i could’ve rewarded ya for being away from me for so long, but now it looks like i’m gonna have to use that time to remind you of a few lessons.” you nodded curtly at the light scolding as your husband's hand dipped between your inner thigh grazing over the pretty panties you found to be increasingly annoying.
thumb tracing the hem of the material, he continued to sigh and mutter small disapprovals of your previous behaviour, but none of the derogatory terms educating nor belittling you, but rather exciting you instead.
you could only hum and nod in agreement at atsumu’s words as the more you gave in, the more he did too. with each acceptance of scolding, your husband would reward you by pressing his fingers a little harsher through your already soaking panties.
“stupid girl,” he muttered up against your ear as your breathing grew slightly ragged. “i thought i taught ya to know better by now.”
his words only worked you up more as he buried his head into the crook of your neck, allowing his teeth to nip at your hot skin. now focusing his attention on your neck, atsumu sucked harshly making sure to leave bruises littered across where he had access to making sure to rebrand you as his own. “tsumu…” you whined as his fingers continued dragging along the soft silk material. “just take them off already.” you whimpered before your husband bit a little harsher causing you to yelp.
“first i come home to ya looking less than presentable and now yer telling me what to do?” your heart hammered at his dark tone as he pulled away momentarily. “baby,” he shook his head. “how could ya give me instructions when ya can’t even follow simple ones yerself.” he sighed as you whispered a quick apology.
his hand pulled away from between your thighs to instead grip the sides of your hips. rough hands running up and down your sides under the pretty dress you’d chosen for him. “let me show ya why i’m in charge around here yeah?” his hips were pressed up behind yours forcing you to feel how pent up he was too. “please.” you whimpered mindlessly grinding against the growing tent in his sweats.
atsumu chuckled before nipping the shell of your ear halting your instinctive movements. “good girl for asking me so nicely.”
with atsumu assaulting your neck once more and further adding to the sensation by pressing up against your clothed clit, all thoughts that weren’t regarding miya atsumu had disintegrated and now your only motive was to make your loving husband proud and take what he was willing to give you.
slowly, your movements grew to become more frantic as his hands stayed firm on your hips as he steadied himself behind you. “oh angel, ya really missed me huh?” he teased while slowing you to rut against him, clothes separating the two of you much to your frustration. you chanted small “uh huh”s as atsumu smiled upon your mindless behaviour. “it’s okay baby, let yer man take care of ya, i’ll make sure ya never forget these little rules again.” you mewled out his name which only delighted him further.
you were just too easy.
“so independent,” he whispered, fingers finally hooking under the hem of the silky undergarments before slowly pulling them down to pool at your ankles below. “it’s my fault, yer too stupid to be left alone for more than a few days right?” you nodded completely missing whatever you were agreeing to as atsumu continued to trace dreadfully slow patterns under your dress.
“it’s okay baby, i know you didn’t mean to make me angry did ya? it��s not yer fault ya can’t think for yerself.” atsumu continued to degrade you to nothing more than a brainless doll as you gave in to his desires completely all while trying to give the heating food on the stove even the slightest grain of attention you could.
fingers pressing onto your aching clit, your husband began to draw rough patterns onto the sensitive area, making sure to get a good feel of just how aroused he made you feel. humming in approval at the short breathy moans that left your throat, atsumu continued to tease you as you melted back into his chest keeping you in place against him and the stove.
“that’s it, good girl.” he praised the moment your legs parted a little wider for him to access. “feel good?” he asked despite the fact he already knew what your answer was. “yes atsumu, feels so good.” you blabbered as he selfishly stole all your focus onto him.
pushing his middle finger inside of you, atsumu’s eyes lit up at the feeling of how tight and wet you were around his finger. while your behavior wasn’t always perfect, your pussy was. he’d always tell you how you were made for him, your mind, body and soul all rightfully his as you always gave into him, atsumu’s grin widened when he felt you clench around his digits, your body already well accustomed to him. just how he’d trained it to be.
it wasn’t long before your husband was kind enough to give you his index finger, thumb ghosting over your clit after every few movements. relishing in the pretty sounds he was drawing out of you, atsumu picked up the pace knowing fully well you were practically teetering on the edge by now. your stuttered breathing, whimpers and pleading of his name were enough of a giveaway to know you were desperate for release, but the setter wasn’t about to give in.
while he had forgiven you a while ago, atsumu had decided that perhaps a little more punishment would really help you remember not to let him come home to anything less than what he expects again as he pulled his fingers out of you immediately after feeling you tense up.
“atsu- why?” you sobbed out frustrated and upset that he’d taken your high away from you. you were the most worked up you’d ever felt at this point and atsumu knew that too hence why he decided that now was the time to have a little bit of fun on his side with you. “i’m still mad ya know.” he cooed mockingly from behind you. “or did ya forget?”
“no, no, i didn’t i’m sorry.” you cried out, tears trickling out your eyes as atsumu stared up at your reflection against the glass panels up against the stove. part of him wished he waited, just to get you in a position where you were facing him, but for now he’d make do as his dick throbbed at the sight of your reflection. upset and ashamed, you stared back into your own reflection meeting your husband's wicked gaze.
“of course ya are.” atsumu hummed, hands temporarily pulling away from you to reach down to his own sweats. “and yer gonna show me how sorry ya are, right?”. pulling down both his sweats and boxers in one go, your breath hitch despite the fact you weren’t facing the terrifying thing. you didn’t need to be looking at it to know what it was capable of. atsumu’s cock was nothing new to you, but everytime you were met with it, atsumu proved himself to be just as relentless as the first time you’d experienced it.
both long and girthy, you were certain miya atsumu was the biggest you’d ever seen and taken, with thick veins running up and down the shaft adding further to the arousal he caused you.
“tsumu…” you breathed out as he pressed the swollen head in line with your entrance. “i’ve already gotten ya ready, don’t be greedy.” he scolded before you could even speak. despite his harsh words though, atsumu was still considerate enough to try and take some of the focus away from any potential pain with his fingers as he let his hand dip back down between your thighs fingers circling your clit gathering any slick he could before smothering it over your pretty pussy which at this point was clenching around nothing much to your demise.
rubbing the head up and down your clit to make access a little easier on the both of you, atsumu pushed into you stretching out your walls as you chanted his name like a mantra. his fingers were a lot different from his cock, as tears were dripping down your face in a mixture of both pleasure and pain all while he allowed you a moment to adjust to the dramatic size difference you had just gotten used to.
lifting the hem of your dress up, atsumu’s mood was left content at seeing your tight pussy struggle to take him all in. he was a proud man, proud of you and proud of his capability to get you like this.
pulling his hand away from your clit now that he’d pushed inside of you, the setter took both his hands to firmly grip on your hips as he began to start thrusting at a slow but steady pace to get you going.
while you thought atsumu was mad at you, he missed you more than anything and while he’d love to pull you away from the hot stove and fuck you over the clean marble counter, he was determined to enjoy the feeling of slowing making you his all over again for now. he’d have all the time in the world to roughly punish you should he ever choose to, but in this moment, he was content with what he was giving you and he was certain his pretty little wife had learnt her lesson.
finally getting you accustomed to the size of him, your cries turned into soft moans as the tip of his cock hit against your cervix sending your head to go blank and your actions to become completely instinctive. the only thing bringing you out of this mindless trance is the feeling of a hard slap to your ass as your head jolts up and you cry out.
“so, are ya really sorry for upsettin’ me?” atsumu challenges, speed continually picking up as your head scrambles to string together some form of answer. you know better than to keep him waiting as you open your mouth to speak, but before you can even try to get any words out, another slap lands just as harshly as the last, the pain mixing in with the pleasure throwing your make do answer out the window as you struggle to reply properly.
“yes tsumu, so sorry- never again.” you weep as the dried tears are replaced with a fresh wave dripping down your face much to atsumu’s satisfaction. “never what again?” he pries further all while slamming his dick in and out of your dripping cunt. “never - shit- never break your rules again.” you plead doing your best to show him just how sorry you really were.
sinking into you completely, atsumu really starts fucking you with the head of his cock hitting your cerfix repeatedly, the smacking of his balls slapping up against your ass mixed with the sound of your dripping hole being used as if it were a fleshlight echo through the room for you to hear.
“tsumu, ‘m sorry, m’ sorry, so- please!” you sob reaching the edge of your high once more feeling desperate for allowance from him this time. “not yet.” he hisses out as his thrust shows no relentlessness. all while you’re trying to hold yourself together, you feel the heat of the stove bring you back to some sort of sense as you make quick work of turning the gas completely off paying no mind to what the state of the food was inside of the pan.
“look up.” he demands, one hand straying from your hips to hook onto your jaw as he forces you to face the glass reflection of yourself being fucked stupid by him. “stupid slut.” he spits out pistoning his cock in and out of you at an unbearable pace. “my stupid slut.” he hisses slamming in and out of you forcing cries and wails out of your throat.
“not a slut.” you whimper out now refusing to take his degrading any longer. “‘m your wife tsumu, your good wife.” you insist, desperate for any form of praise from him. your husband sneers as he holds your jaw in place forcing you to stare at your fucked out expression.
“i don’t want a good wife, i want a perfect wife, ya got that?” he demands squeezing your hip as his own hips move faster than before. tears still streaming down your face from the immense pleasure and frustrations, you nod before mindlessly blabbering out your pleads.
“your perfect wife yeah, wanna be your perfect wife all yours.” you beg hurriedly in fear of him depriving you of your second orgasm of the night.
he liked the sound of that. knowing he had you completely and utterly wrapped around his finger pleased him. your words only affirming this satisfaction as you gave yourself into him completely allowing him the rights of making you his and his alone. it’s like he always told you; you were made for him.
“go on then,” he grunts. “cum for me, pretty girl. now.”
he doesn't have to tell you twice as his hard thrusts pay no mercy to your cute little pussy, you can only think about cumming around him at this very second. the tight coil in your stomach finally allowed to break, your walls spasm around his cock as he continues to pound inside of you all while youre granted the pleasure of finally releasing. the feeling making you see stars, atsumu continues to use your hole as he pleases his only motive now chasing after his own high.
tightening his grip on your hips, he pressed his lips up close to your ear, once again nipping lightly at the shell. “gonna be my perfect wife yeah? yer taking it all for me got it?” he growls as you nod quickly, head still spinning.
“yeah, yeah tsumu, your perfect wife, all yours.” you beg, the overstimulation preventing you from thinking straight.
“that's right, mine, mine, mine.” he finishes forcing his load into your tight hole, his hot cum filling your womb completely. the feeling of him inside of you causes your tongue to drop out as both tears and spit dribble down your face as he continues to ram in and out of you through his orgasm.
finishing, atsumu grunts and pulls out of you, eyes bright seeing your abused hole leak out with his cum. seeing you completely fucked out by him was one of his favourite sights and he was certain he’d never get enough of it.
regardless of his rules and words, atsumu adored you no matter what. but to see you completely ruined by him and him alone, it only made him fall harder knowing you were willing to always take whatever he desired to give you. it made him proud to know he’d cuffed someone so willing for him.
as you catch your breath, atsumu looks over your shoulder that the burnt food you had yet to notice. meeting his gaze, you look down at the contents in the pan and internally cuss yourself out at the mistake. so sure you were getting another scolding, you jolt at the feeling of atsumu’s hand resting on your shoulder.
“yer too cute for cooking anyway.” he mutters allowing you to breathe out relieved. stepping away from you and pulling up his boxers and sweats, atsumu allows himself one more glance at the sight of his cum dribbling down your thighs from behind. smiling to himself, he nods over at the direction of the house phone before heading towards the couch.
“show me you’ve learnt ya lesson and ring up for dinner yeah? maybe then i’ll give ya the reward i was talking about earlier.”
he smiles at the sight of you nodding, your wobbly legs making their way over to the landline to ring up for whatever takeaway came to mind, your husbands load still dripping between your thighs.
miya atsumu was adamant he was a lucky man. he had a nice house, a job he loved and now he was now certain he had the most perfect little wife.
723 notes · View notes
emeren · 3 years
Text
speed racer- eren jaeger
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pairing: eren jaeger x fem!reader 
word count: 6k
content warnings: nsfw, smut, 18+, smoking, degradation, overstimulation, breeding (w/o baby talk) 
notes: 100% inspired by the official art, like mmm yes please. also i know absolutely nothing about how car racing works, but that’s not important. this is unedited because my brain turned to mush writing it. enjoy!! <3
SUMMARY: eren’s a semi-professional car racer, who has a tumultuous friendship with the reader. after losing a race, eren sets out to win something else in his life, much to the reader’s surprise. 
“took you long enough!” sasha called out, holding her hand above her eyes in an attempt to block out the bright sun. you dished her a smile, weaving your way through the throngs of people in the stands, attempting not to step on anyone. your eyes briefly flitted to the track, the assistants distantly getting their cars ready. they were hardly visible from here; merely faceless figures idling around. you heaved out a sigh as you reached sasha, the brunette gingerly patting the spot next to her. 
“you couldn’t have gotten better seats, sash?” you asked as you sat down, pushing your sunglasses on top of your head. sasha waved her large bag of popcorn in front of your face, an exasperated expression on her features. 
“the line was long, and what’s a race without popcorn?” she grinned, offering you the bag. you rolled your eyes but took a fistful of the bright yellow snack nonetheless. “plus, if you really wanted that good of seats, you would’ve come early yourself.” 
“i did come here early,” you retorted, your voice muffled by the popcorn. sasha raised a questioning brow, her elbow nudging you in the side. 
“getting here early just so you can poke around the racer’s quarters is not the same thing,” she singsonged, a girlish smirk on her face. you scoffed, turning away from her as you felt heat race to your cheeks. “c’mon, everyone knows you and eren are totally into each other. i don’t understand why you guys don’t just go for it.” 
“i wasn’t poking around, and i am not into eren,” you said, shifting uncomfortably as the words left your mouth. it was true, to some degree. the two of you had been friends in high school, back when eren was just some skinny kid with anger issues. now he was a semi-professional racer, and the rivalry between the two of you was palpable, to say the least.
you’d been in the same friend group and for some reason eren just loved to pick on you whenever he got the chance. you suspected it had something to do with his repressed daddy issues or whatever, and he’d known mikasa and armin far too long to be so catty with them. initially they were just playful taunts, but as you got older, they started to become more personal. with age came your own unchecked need to banter and argue with him. 
somewhere along the way the arguments turned to sexual tension. a sexual tension that for the most part, the two of you were happy to ignore. it allowed room for a more sassy friendship, at least. 
“uh huh, suuure,” sasha responded, seemingly unconvinced. she must’ve sensed your discomfort, deciding to change the topic. “who’s who?” 
your eyes traced the track, analyzing each vehicle. “armin’s in yellow, mikasa’s in red, eren’s in white, and i believe levi is in green.” 
“levi’s racing? isn’t he getting a little old for that?” sasha laughed, squinting. you chuckled. 
“it’s just a small fundraiser race, plus he’s a crowd favorite over here,” you explained. sasha nodded as she processed the information. the sun was hot, beating down on your back. “i’m honestly surprised this many people came out.” 
sasha tossed more popcorn in her mouth, halfway done with the bag despite the race still not having started. she offered it to you again. “mhm, this is the same type of crowd that we’d see in the underground.” 
you thought back to your days of attending the illegal races, late at night and under the cover of darkness. though you were just a junior in college, it felt like those nights freshman year had been decades ago. that was before eren showed real promise in the professional circuit. it was also where levi scouted him out to be his successor. 
as if on cue, you could see the figures of the racers emerging from the port, each headed for their respective cars. you couldn’t help the way your gaze immediately followed the tall, brown haired racer adorned in his white racing jacket, checkers on the side. the crowd erupted into cheers at the sight of the all the racers, one from each color of the rainbow. eren walked with a certain confidence, his adamant determination being one of the only things that followed him from high school. 
though you couldn’t clearly see his face from where you sat, you knew he was smiling. eren had always loved the adrenaline rush before a race. 
“alright ladies and gentlemen, we welcome you to the annual shiganshina fundraiser race!” the reporter boomed over the intercom. sasha squealed in her seat, excitedly gripping your arm and pointing towards your friends. you felt a mix of excited nervousness waft over you, giggling along with her. “today we’ve got racers from all over the circuit, and each one has volunteered their precious time for the cause. can we get a round of applause?” 
the crowd erupted in yet another ear deafening round of applause as the announcer read off the names of each of the racers. you and sasha made sure to scream your loudest when armin, mikasa, and eren’s names were read off. 
you hoped they knew it was you, your throat scratchy as you sat back down. there was no need to be loud for levi; the entire crowd went absolutely feral at the mention of his name. 
the announcer read off the conditions of the race, as well as the reasoning for the fundraiser itself. you and sasha chatted quietly about the after party while the racers put their helmets on and got in their cars. before too long, the announcer was gearing up for the start. 
“alright everyone, we’re about to start. get yourselves ready.” 
you and sasha stood, hollering and cheering for your friends as the cars all lined up. you knew you’d be happy if any of them crossed the finish line first, but it was undeniable that it would be eren. it wasn’t armin or mikasa’s passion like it was eren’s; they viewed it more as as fun hobby. nevertheless, you dreaded how smug eren would be once he added another win to his already growing list. he really was a bastard sometimes. 
“racers ready your cars. 3... 2... 1... go!” 
they were off, levi’s green car easily settling into first place, cruising past the other cars as he whipped around the first curve. you held your breath, eyes scanning the other cars placements. eren was in fourth, armin in fifth, and mikasa in second. sasha yelled sporadically, reaching out and squeezing your wrist tightly. 
as they rounded the circuit for the second time, eren passed the third place racer, coming up behind mikasa’s red car. you held your breath. “c’mon eren...” 
“shit! he passed her!” sasha screeched, jumping up and down. you smiled as he whipped the corner, nearly cutting the edge of the median. 
“levi is still so far ahead,” you commented, trying to pry sasha’s death grip from your wrist. your eyes glanced to the clock, realizing that the race was near its finish. levi was cutting the third corner and eren was quickly gaining on him. 
“looks like it’s gonna be clo-” sasha’s voice was cut off as a large man tripped over the bleacher behind you, effectively shoving you into her side. “shit, the popcorn!” 
you regained your balance, giving the man behind you a dirty glare as you turned to sasha. she frowned at the popcorn that’d been spilled all over the ground. “what a waste!” 
looking back up at the track, the crowd broke into screams of excitement. you expected to see eren’s face on the big screen to the side as confetti streamed through the air, but were surprised to see levi’s unimpressed stare. 
eren lost? 
“you’ve gotta be shitting me,” sasha gaped, her face slack in shock. you shrugged, shaking the feeling of disappointment from your shoulders. serves him right. 
people started to vacate the stands, shoving their way past you as you turned to sasha. “let’s go find connie and jean, sash.” 
she nodded, still frowning. the two of you climbed down the steps, going against the flow of the crowd as you weaseled your way down onto the spectators path. you could see all of the racers shaking hands, congratulating each other. your mind briefly considered whether or not eren was going to be upset, but you decided not to dwell on it. 
you watched as the racers disappeared into the tunnel, eren’s tall figure no longer in view. just then, connie and jean came walking out from the service booth, both wearing their maintenance coveralls. 
sasha wildly waved her arm, grabbing your hand and pulling you through the remaining stragglers towards your friends. 
“hey guys!” she smiled, the boys jogging to meet you halfway. 
“why were you guys in such shit seats?” connie asked, skipping over a greeting. you let out a small laugh at sasha’s expense. she merely shrugged, turning to jean. 
“we going to your place?” you questioned before she had the chance. jean nodded, adjusting the backwards baseball cap on his head. 
“yeah, just gotta wrap some things up, then we can head out,” he replied. you grew happy at the thought of kicking back with your friends, enjoying a nice night of fun. parties at jean and connie’s place were always the best. 
***************
“some race that was,” connie groaned, leaning back and bringing the beer bottle to his lips. so far it was just you, sasha, connie, jean, and a bunch of random drunk people who’d come from the track. sasha scoffed from her spot on the worn, brown couch. 
“you could say that again,” she grumbled. “we didn’t even get to see levi cross the finish line ‘cause some guy rammed into us.” 
jean looked at you from where he leaned against the wall, a bottle in his hand and his eyebrows raised. “wait, for real?” 
“yeah,” you sighed, drinking whatever bitter liquid sasha had poured into your red solo cup. “didn’t even say sorry.” 
“how many times do i have to tell you guys, just come work maintenance with jean-boy and i,” connie suggested, wrapping his arm around sasha’s shoulder and giving a squeeze. she rolled her eyes and shoved him off. “you guys would get to watch the race from the track itself.” 
“i don’t know the first thing about cars,” sasha laughed, you nodding along with her. 
“and you think we do? i just said that so we could get the best seats in the house,” connie snorted, taking another swig of his drink. you chuckled at his idiocy, unfazed by yet another one of their stupid stunts. “where’re the big racers anyway?” 
“they should be here soon,” you responded, glancing out the window. jean was unironically blasting the fast and the furious soundtrack, something he’d done after every race for as long as you’d known him. by now the songs were ingrained in your brain. 
“who wants to bet jaeger is in a pissy mood?” jean snorted as he moved to sit down on the arm of the chair you were planted in. 
“when isn’t he?” you sneered. connie and sasha hummed in agreement. both you and jean loved nothing more than to push eren’s buttons. you knew jean’s motives stemmed from some boyish fun, whereas yours felt a little more personal. 
the sound of clapping began to compete with the music, your neck craning to look past jean into the hallway. eren, armin, and mikasa came into view, people cheering them on and patting them on the back. they each wore their racing jackets over their street clothes. 
you felt a familiar sensation burn in your stomach at the sight of eren. his dark hair was pulled back per usual, wispies framing his tan face. The white jacket stood out against his black t-shirt and black jeans; key necklace he always wore glinting against his chest. as your gaze travelled up from his body, you were startled to make contact with his teal eyes. you quickly glanced away in embarrassment. 
“well, well, well,” jean cheered, raising his bottle to the trio. “how’d it feel to lose to a short, old man, eh jaeger?”
eren scowled, obviously peeved. “if i had to lose to anyone, i’m glad it was levi.” 
connie snorted at that. “man, professional circuit has you soft.” 
“whatever you say, baldie,” eren smirked mischievously as he came to sit down on the couch. connie defensively rubbed his head. “at least i’m making money in prof.” 
“i still can’t believe you have people that actually want to sponsor you,” you snipped, a playful expression on your face. eren lazily looked towards you, the familiar irritation laced in his eyes. 
“i’m sorry, what was that? i wasn’t listening to you,” eren retorted, looking as unbothered as ever. you glared at his words, but caught armin’s disapproving eye and decided to stay quiet. 
as the night carried on, you watched your friends relax and reminisce about previous races and the days spent in the illegal ring. it seemed crazy that your life was so centered around car races, when you weren’t even a racer yourself. but you supposed you were just happy to be supporting your friends.
at some point you got up out of your chair to refill your cup. the large hoards of people had started to dance; the house feeling hot and humid as you shoved your way to the kitchen. luckily the room was empty, save for armin who was drinking water out of the kitchen tap. 
“thirsty?” you asked, amused. his head snapped up, surprised by your voice. it took one look to tell he was absolutely trashed, face red and eyes half lidded. he smiled goofily and nodded his head before stumbling back out into the crowd of people. 
you quickly filled your cup, following the direction armin had gone. as you stepped out of the kitchen, a body came out of nowhere and smacked into you. 
eren jumped back, trying to avoid the liquid that sloshed out of your cup. “hey, watch it!” he hissed. 
“you watch it, casanova,” you snapped, irritated by the sticky alcohol that dripped down your hand. eren’s eyes narrowed at the nickname, his arms defensively crossing his chest. 
“i told you not to call me that,” he bit back, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. you rolled your eyes, instinctively bringing your hand to your mouth in an attempt to lick the drink off. eren watched you, his gaze clouded with an indiscernible emotion. you knew what you were doing. 
“hm. too bad,” you quipped, dragging your tongue down the side of your hand, popping your pointer finger in your mouth. eren glowered at you as you let out a giggle. “see ya, loser.” 
“whatever, brat,” he huffed, shaking the tension from his pants as you sauntered off into the crowd. he hated the effect you had on him.
you’d already decided not to get shit faced. while the rest of your friends had chosen otherwise, you danced alongside them, your resolve wearing thin much faster than theirs. jean and sasha bounced happily up and down, screaming the lyrics to whatever song it was blasting from the speakers. connie and mikasa were playing beer pong, and you had no clue where armin and eren had gone.
you heaved in a breath as a sharp pain shot through your side, signaling the end of your dancing career for the night. your two dance partners were too far gone to notice, waving goodbye to you as you stepped out of the sweaty crowd. 
slipping your phone out of your pocket, your eyes nearly popped from your head at the time. two thirty?!
only slightly tipsy, you decided to find jean’s room and call it a night. he’d just have to sleep on the couch. with one hand dragging on the wall, you made your way through the house, past armin who was doing body shots with a couple of strangers, up the stairs and down the dark hall. it was quieter up here, but you could still hear the music and knew it’d be awhile till sleep visited you. 
shoving jean’s door open, you were surprised to see none other than eren laid back on the bed, puffs of smoke coming from his mouth. the strong scent of weed hit your nostrils, nose scrunching up in reflex. he propped himself up on one arm upon your entrance, eyeing you. 
“oh, sorry i’ll just- wait a minute,” you paused, narrowing your eyes at him. “you aren’t supposed to be smoking on your sponsorship.” 
eren let out a loud laugh at that, more smoke spilling from his lungs. “thanks, mom. i know.” 
you stood in the doorway, not really sure what to do. “jean’s gonna be mad if his room smells like weed tomorrow.” 
“yeah, why do you think i chose to do it in here?” he leered, bringing the blunt to his lips and deeply inhaling, sharp cheekbones protruding with the action. you sucked in a breath, not wanting to acknowledge just how gorgeous he was. his jacket was off, black shirt tightly gripping his muscular yet slender arms as he propped himself up. he blew the smoke from his nostrils this time, making your face heat. “wanna hit?”  
you sighed, weighing the options. jean’s bed was a lot more comfortable than connie’s. you could just wait till eren was done, and then pass out. “no, but i’ll wait with you till you’re done.” 
“suit yourself, brat,” eren hummed, flopping back down on the bed as you shut the door behind yourself. you came to sit by him, looking down as he heaved in a sober breath. he really is beautiful, you thought. 
your eyes scanned his face. “you really shouldn’t be smoking, you know. you could lose the sponsorship.” 
eren rolled his teal eyes, giving you a side glance. “i’m aware. i’m also aware that you aren’t going to rat on me.” 
“and what makes you so sure?” you asked playfully, your voice low. eren’s gaze shifted to you, placing the blunt between his lips as he sat up, face inches from yours. 
“because. you can act like you hate me all you want,” smoke blew from his lips as he spoke, slowly inching his face closer to yours. you swallowed, eyes struggling to maintain contact with his dark stare. “but i know how badly you want me.” 
you blinked, heart rate accelerating as he glanced at your lips. “speaking from experience?” 
eren’s mouth quirked up in a smirk at your words. “something like that.”
you watched with desire as he brought the bud of the blunt up to his lips, deeply inhaling the toxic smoke. he lifted his free hand, pointer finger gently tracing your jaw as his thumb came up to caress your chin. he tapped softly against your face, as if asking you to open your mouth. 
you weren’t sure what part of you was wanting to submit to his every move. maybe it was the alcohol. or maybe it was the accumulation of sexual tension. something told you it was a deeper itch that needed to be scratched. an itch only eren could reach. 
you parted your lips, eyes fluttering as eren leaned forward and carefully brushed his own against yours, dumping his lungful of smoke into your mouth. you breathed it in, fighting the urge to cough and whine as he pulled away. 
“good girl,” he breathed, leaning away to snuff the bud out on jean’s bedside table. you heaved out as much as you could, shocked by your own willingness. you were mainly surprised by how much you enjoyed whatever that was. 
you stared at him expectantly as he turned back to you, a serious expression on his face. “eren.” 
“yes?” he asked, leaning heavily on his arm, eyes unashamedly focused on your lips. his other hand came up again, lightly ghosting your jawline. you could feel yourself growing wet between your legs; the way eren was fucking you with his eyes sending an unwelcomed throb to your clit. 
acting on impulse, you lurched forward, latching your lips onto eren’s slightly chapped ones. he wasted no time in kissing you back; hungrily pressing himself closer to your body. his lips were warm and tasted like weed and coca cola, his tongue wiggling its way into your mouth where you happily welcomed it. 
you brought your hand up, wanting to run your fingers through his hair, but were stopped when they got caught in the bun. eren grunted, kissing you harder and bringing his own hand up to yank the tie from his locks, letting his soft hair fall to his shoulders. 
your fingers were quick to glide through the brown strands, scratching his scalp in the process. some throaty sound emitted from his chest, the noise making your cunt ache in need. how is he so hot? 
eren’s hands came to your waist, roughly shoving you down onto the bed, so that he hovered above you. your lips continued to meld together, saliva coated mouths wetly intertwined. you removed your hand from his hair, bringing both hands to run down the expanse of his arms that were on either side of your head. you squeezed his biceps, surprised when he suddenly pulled away. 
“is this okay?” he panted, breaths labored. his pupils were dilated, all seriousness behind his gaze. you nodded your head without hesitation, practically begging him to continue. “words.”
“yes, yes. i want this just as much as you do,” you responded. eren smirked from above you, his dark hair swirling around his face as his key dangled in front of your chin. 
“good, because,” he leaned down to your ear, lightly nibbling the lobe as the cold key rested against your throat. “i’m going to punish you for all these years of torture.” 
your eyes widened, the words sending a desirable chill down your spine. “torture?” 
eren’s hot mouth travelled slowly from your ear down the side of your neck, lightly peppering the skin with lustful kisses. his tongue came out as he reached your collarbone, dragging the wet muscle up the front of your throat, leaving a trail of saliva in its wake. a small whimper involuntarily left your mouth as he pulled back, grabbing your chin in his large hand.  
“all of the nicknames,” he pressed a kiss to your lips. “the quips,” and another, your chest tightening. “the stunt you pulled earlier with your hand. oh god. it’s like you were practically begging me to bend you over and teach you a lesson.” 
he pulled back, dark eyes boring into yours. the desire was palpable, your breathing shallow as he stared at you. it was like he was waiting for some silent agreement. 
you held eye contact, tilting your chin back ever so slightly in his grip. “good thing i learn fast.” 
your words flew straight to his cock, throbbing uncomfortably behind his jeans. eren let go of your chin, his lips hungrily reconnecting with yours as his hands pinned your wrists to either side of your head. his tongue was quick to invite itself into your mouth, warm and erotic. 
you wanted to tug on his hair again; wanted to hear his primal groans and feel him vibrate against your mouth, but you were pinned to the bed. desperate to hear eren moan, your teeth grazed his bottom lip, the action making him yank his head back. 
“tsk tsk, none of that,” he growled, wet lips glinting in the low light of the room. “this is your punishment. guess we’re going to have to do something else.” 
you frowned as he let go of your wrists, lifting himself from the bed and standing. you propped yourself up on your elbows, eyes laced with desire as eren swiftly pulled the black shirt over his head, key pendant resting on his newly exposed chest. he was dangerously attractive like this; dark hair disheveled on his shoulders, only adding to the feral stare he was giving you. 
he leaned forward, grabbing your thighs and yanking you to the end of the bed, legs dangling from the side. you watched in awe as he dropped to his knees, fingers coming up to toy with the button of your jean shorts. 
“these little shorts make your ass look so good,” he grumbled, tapping the button. “be good and take them off for me.” 
you wasted no time in lifting your ass off the bed, struggling to yank the denim down your legs without hitting eren in the face. he watched your every movement, licking his lips as you wiggled them off. 
without thinking, your hands gripped the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head to reveal a black bra. eren’s pupils dilated further at the unexpected sight of your breasts. 
he helped pull the shorts from your ankles, tossing them aside as you sat back down, just in your panties and bra. you paused for a moment, unsure of what he was planning to do. 
“watch me,” he demanded, staring at you through his brows. you nodded your head, breath hitching as he placed an open mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh, tongue swiping against the smooth skin. 
his eyelashes fluttered as he licked up your leg; just the way he looked at you being enough to have you creaming in your lace panties. your teeth tugged at your bottom lip, the burning in your face mirroring the way your clit throbbed along with your heart beat. 
eren’s tongue trailed until he reached the edge of your underwear, eyes never failing to stay connected with yours. you swallowed as he lifted his head, placing his tongue flatly against your clothed clit. 
it was a warm, muted feeling, your body all too aware of the beautiful man between your legs. eren brought his fingers up, hooking under the fabric and pushing it to the side. 
“so wet for me already,” he hummed, a smile on his face. you blushed in embarrassment, the feeling of his breath on your glistening pool of moisture making you shiver. “’m gonna eat you so good, little bitch.” 
you gasped as eren rapidly brought his face down, burying his head between your legs. the sensation was like no other; a swirling feeling in your stomach as his tongue hungrily swiped against your clit. your hands flew down to his hair, tugging as his lips wrapped around the bud, suckling softly. 
a moan escaped your lips, the sound causing eren to groan out in reply. the vibration of his vocal cords against your center amplifying the pleasure. 
a distinct feeling began to burn in your chest, the sloppiness of eren’s tongue licking up your slick causing your legs to squirm, tightening around his head. “fuck.”
eren pulled back at the pressure against his skull, a smack sounding through the air as he released his suction on your wet cunt. 
“i told you to be good,” he hissed, lips coated in your sheen. you knew the image of eren’s face between your legs, hair disheveled and mouth swollen, eyes dark and lustrous, would be burned into the back of your brain. 
flustered, you nodded your head, spreading your legs so they weren’t pressing against his face. he nodded in content, arms coming up to wrap around your thighs to keep you steady. 
and he was back; eating your pussy like he hadn’t been fed in years, a primal desperation. he pressed his tongue down harder, the cry ripping from your throat at the sensation only egging him on. you struggled against his grip as he abused your clit with his mouth, sucking and tracing his teeth over it so good. 
his tongue slid down to your entrance, shoving itself in without invitation. the fullness wasn’t like having sex; it was a heated, swirling feeling. the wet muscle circled around your spongey walls, your face beginning to burn and hands growing clammy in eren’s hair. 
you threw your head back as his ministrations sped up, your hips attempting to grind into his face. the warmth in the pit of your stomach building like a loaded gun, ready to release itself. 
all it took was the added pressure of his hand wrapping around your thigh so that his thumb could press against your clit, feverishly rubbing. you came crashing down, your eyes screwing shut as the wave of dopamine stretched to every part of your body, legs jerking against his hold. 
eren pulled his head back again, a smile on his wet face as he licked your release from his lips. “tasted so good, so good for me.” 
you breathed out in reply as he came back up above you, gently taking your chin and bringing his mouth down to yours. 
the kiss was small and simple, your eye lids growing heavy. you could taste your bitter release on him, the unfamiliar flavor not completely unpleasant. 
“sleepy?” eren mumbled against your lips, coming back to look at you. you nodded your head, eyes catching on the key that dangled from his neck. “too bad. we aren’t done with your punishment yet.” 
you frowned, your body suddenly more awake than it was before. “huh?” you asked, sitting up as eren shifted to pull his jeans off. 
you weren’t sure what you expected when he yanked both his jeans and boxers down; you guessed you’d always thought his anger issues were compensation for something. the realization dawned on you that eren had nothing to compensate for as his cock sprung from his pants, the sheer size making your mouth water. 
a smirk crossed his face as he stepped from his jeans. “enjoying the view?” 
“what? no,” you scoffed, averting your gaze. eren crawled back over you, his bare length pressing into your stomach as his hands came up to unclasp your bra. 
“don’t be shy, this is your punishment after all,” he whispered, pulling the cups from your chest. his eyes unashamedly scanned your breasts, a smile tugging his lips as he gave them a generous squeeze. 
you tried to ignore the imprint of him on your stomach; but it was nearly impossible. you could feel the spot between your legs grow wet again, arousal already weaseling its way back into your system.
eren brought his lips to yours once again, the kisses much sloppier and desperate than before. he grunted as you shifted to lay back down, his exposed dick rubbing against your stomach. “can’t wait to be inside of you,” he mumbled against your lips. 
you whimpered at his words, his lips melding with your own while he simultaneously tugged your panties down your legs. he propped himself up with one arm, the other positioning the tip of his cock at the entrance of your already throbbing cunt. 
you took a deep breath as he slowly eased himself into you; the sheer stretch making your eyes lull back in your head. eren moved his hips slowly at first, loosening you up. he was watching your expressions; his eyelids heavy and mouth slightly agape. 
“shit, you’re so tight,” he groaned, hips starting to move faster as he gazed down at you. you swallowed, closing your eyes as he sent one particularly hard thrust, cock nearly ramming your cervix. “you good?” 
“mhm,” you responded, bringing your hands up to grab his hair. “just so big.” 
eren let out a breathy chuckle at that, eyes traveling down to your pelvis where his dick was visibly creating a bump with every thrust. he placed his hand on your stomach, pressing down as he bucked his hips violently forwards. he was so deep. 
you cried out at the feeling of his length sliding in and out of your cunt, your walls clenching around him as your hands clawed at his muscular back. 
he was filling you up so good, a moan leaving his lips as your enhanced arousal unexpectedly brought your second orgasm down, tears pricking your eyes. eren kept abusing your pussy, his thrusts growing senseless before he buried himself deep within you, releasing his load inside of your exhausted center. 
both of your breathing was labored, eren looking up at the ceiling. his face was flushed as he recovered, you laying limply beneath him trying to regain your composure yourself. 
“that felt so good,” you admitted, bringing your hand up from his back to caress his angular face. eren frowned at your words, large hand grabbing your wrist and removing it from his jawline. 
“m’not tired yet,” he said seriously, your eyes widening as he placed a chaste kiss to your lips. your fucked out face beneath him had his dick already hardening again. “m’not gonna be tired till i win.” 
he suddenly pulled up, hooking his hands under your knees and pushing your legs up by your head. the action strained your muscles, the feeling of eren’s cum dripping down your ass filling your head as he readied himself to fuck you senseless. 
he stared at your cunt; at the way his cum was oozing out of it, the abused pussy ready to take him in again. he used his fingers to catch the drip, forcing it back inside of you. the thought of filling you up all nice and pretty sent him over the edge, his hand shamelessly guiding his cock back inside of you.
eren was meaner this time; each thrust was deep and deliberate, hitting your cervix and making you cry out in pleasure. the burning sensation in your clit was overwhelming, your mouth hanging open as eren slowly fucked you stupid. 
“good, pretty girl” eren breathed out, ramming his hips into yours. “took her punishment like such a good girl.” 
you tried to nod your head, but you couldn’t move. the feeling of hot, sticky tears rolled down your face, eren’s cock deep within you almost too much to bear. he grabbed your chin, tongue swiping up your cheek as he savored the salty flavor on his tastebuds. this man and his licking. 
“tell me, did you learn your lesson?” eren grunted in your ear, hand still gripping your chin. you tried to form a sentence, fucked beyond words. “hm, use your words and i’ll let you cum.” 
one more deep thrust and his dick stopped its strokes, pausing within you. “yes... yes.” 
“yes what?” 
your tongue was heavy in your mouth, pussy all too aware of eren’s length within it. “i learned my lesson, you won.” 
he smirked, aggressively bucking his hips into your weak cunt, the action making you cry out as he rammed your cervix. the tears continued to roll down your cheeks as eren’s dick twitched, spurting the his seed into you. your third release followed his, your clit spasming from the overstimulation. 
eren heaved himself out of you, collapsing deftly onto the bed. the two of you sat in a heated silence, your face sticky from the tears. eren glanced to you, eyes trailing down your body. 
“i’ll get a rag,” he mumbled, shoving off the bed and walking into jean’s bathroom. you were beyond exhausted and knew that you’d be sore tomorrow. eren reemerged, quickly cleaning you up and handing you your shirt. 
your eyes lazily watched him as he walked over and locked the door; brain too tired to form a sentence. 
he must’ve noticed your concern. “we can sleep in here tonight; i don’t think you’re in any shape to move.” 
you carefully crawled into the sheets, not even bothering to put your shirt back on. eren followed suit, climbing in behind you. 
“night,” he whispered as he shut the bedside light off. your lids were growing heavy, a smile on your lips as you began to fall asleep. 
“night, casanova.” 
<3 <3 <3 
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patchofsunlight · 3 years
Text
Hands | Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: Bakugou learned from a young age to keep his hands to himself, even when his entire body longed for touch and his eyes filled with tears at the loss of a comforting habit.
WORD COUNT: 2.4k
WARNINGS: hurt/comfort, angst, touch starved bakugou!!, kind of a character study? i think about him a lot, one kiss, cursing, consensual hand holding (PFFFT), mitsuki fucking sucks but what’s new
I hope you like this!! please remember feedback is always appreciated and all that. thank you for reading!! sorry if it sucks LMAO I DID MY BEST AND I KINDA LIKE IT
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When he was a child, before he even cared about quirks or rankings or strength, Bakugou Katsuki loved holding hands.
No one knew exactly why, but that was just something he liked. He would hold Izuku’s hand while they talked and ran around the neighborhood, he would take his teacher's hand in his ever so softly whenever he walked over to their desk to ask a question. Katsuki would latch onto his dad with the most loving, tiny grip he could muster, and he would even interlace pinkies with his mom when she was having a good day and didn’t deem his manners “too soft”,  “too weak”, “too foolish”. Those were nice days in the Bakugou household.
Bakugou Katsuki was five years old when he had his heart broken for the first time. It was a few weeks after his quirk manifested and he was just so excited to play hero (with a quirk, this time!) alongside his friends after school that he didn’t even hesitate before grabbing Izuku’s hand exactly like he always did, jumping up and down with energy and happiness, rambling about how he was gonna be the number one hero one day — until Izuku screamed, pulling his hand away with a painful expression. Katsuki furrowed his eyebrows, confused at his best friend’s antics, and then he saw it: the raw, burned flesh of his palm.
Katsuki had hurt his best friend.
It’s very easy to fix objects, his dad used to tell him while stitching up one of his ripped shirts, you just get a bit of glue or yarn and you put it back together, a smile graced his lips at the feeling of his son taking his hand immediately after he let go of the sewing needle, but people are a lot harder to patch up, Katsu. People can’t be fixed, sometimes.
He wasn’t exactly sure of when he started shoving his hands inside his pockets, when he started opening doors with his feet and touching people with his shoulders to get their attention. It took him a while to understand that that first occasion wasn’t an accident, and that controlling his quirk when he got too excited or just overly happy was too hard and the security he got from all those tender touches he so eagerly searched from everyone in his life wasn’t worth the risk. The best thing Katsuki could do, for himself and for others, was to keep his hands to himself, even if they felt cold and empty and his big red eyes filled with tears at the loss of such a comforting habit.
He told himself it didn’t matter. You’d have to overgrow that over time, anyway, his mom reminded him at some point. Such childish, silly bullshit. Only softies hold hands, Katsuki, and we both know you’re not a softie.
It was easy to pretend he didn’t miss it. After a few years, the lack of touch was simply another part of his life he consciously chose to ignore, another longing he conditioned himself not to think about. It wasn’t like many people noted his abrupt change in behavior either — there were other things about him that were much more worthy of attention than that, like his killer quirk and quick brain, like his determination and ambition. Who cared about the fact that little Bakugou Katsuki didn’t want to hold hands anymore? Who cared about the fact that little touchy and clingy Bakugou Katsuki now barely touched others? 
Such childish, silly bullshit. Only softies hold hands, Katsuki, and we both know you’re not a softie.
He met her during his second year at UA. Y/N was mostly quiet, but still friendly and hardworking, fighting hard for her place as the number one student in Class 2-B. A project involving the two classes put them as partners, and project meetings soon became sparring sessions that turned into study group that led to study dates and then real dates and, by the beginning of his senior year, Katsuki had gotten himself a girlfriend.
He wasn’t certain if she noticed the way he purposely kept his hands out of reach when they walked side by side, or if she ever saw how he always made sure his palms were pointing away from her skin whenever they hugged or cuddled. He didn’t think anyone would ever pay enough attention to him to the point of perceiving his hesitancy. It didn’t matter that Bakugou had gained complete control of his quirk, it didn’t matter that he still felt his skin and his hands tingling with the urge, the craving for touch — the satisfaction wasn’t worth the risk, not the stupid satisfaction he didn’t even need. Such childish, silly bullshit. Bakugou Katsuki was doing very well with letting go of old customs, no doubt.
But Y/N noticed. God, of course she did — she noticed all the longing gazes, all the small flinches. She noticed how he never let his hands touch hers and at first it made her worried. Didn’t he want to touch her? Had she done something wrong? Her boyfriend wasn’t the best at communicating his feelings, even though he had been putting in the effort to talk to her whenever he felt a bit under the weather or bothered. 
However, this seemed like a bigger problem, like something he would never speak of unless she brought it up. It seemed deeper.
“Katsu?”
He lifted his scarlet eyes from the book in his hands and turned them to her sitting figure. They were both on his bed, despite curfew starting in less than an hour and the knowledge they shouldn’t be alone in his dorm. To be honest, Aizawa was quite used to watching the Class B girl sneak out of his student’s room every other night, wearing one of his many hoodies and those shorts that she always left in his closet. As long as they weren’t causing him any trouble, Eraserhead didn’t cause them any trouble, either.
“Yeah?” his voice was clearly tired after a day full of training and studying, a hint of sleepiness dripping from his tone.
“How come you never let me hold your hand?”
Katsuki froze on the spot, feeling his heart pick up its pace until it was beating so loud he could hear it by his ear, throbbing. He gulped harshly, sweat immediately gathering up on his hands from his own anxiety. She had noticed?
“What do you mean?” he tried to laugh calmly, but his chuckle sounded forced and nervous. He put the book away.
“You never let me hold your hand,” Y/N’s cheeks were tinted red with shyness. She had been pondering on how to talk to him about this for days now, yet seeing him so flustered made her surprisingly tense. “You avoid touching me with your hands in general, actually,” her chuckle sounded as forced and nervous as his, “is… Is there something wrong? Would you feel better if I stopped touching you so much? Does it make you uncomfortable? Because I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Katsu. You can talk to me about things like that, you know it.”
He couldn’t get himself to answer, unable to move or truly process her words. He really thought he had been slick, huh? He really thought she’d never notice, he really thought she’d never care. How would she feel if he told her he was afraid to hurt her, that he was afraid he would lose control of his quirk and burn her somehow, like he had done with Izuku all those years ago? Would she think he was childish and silly, too? Such childish, silly bullshit, Bakugou Katsuki scared of holding hands with his girlfriend, scared of touching her and holding her like she deserved to because what if it went wrong? What if he fucked it up? The best thing Katsuki could do, for himself and for others, was to keep his hands to himself, even if they felt cold and empty and his big red eyes filled with tears at the loss of such a comforting habit.
People are a lot harder to patch up, his father told him. He didn’t want to be guilty of screwing this up, didn’t want to destroy the relationship he cherished so, so much. Would she think he was weak for being this reluctant? Would she laugh at his stupid antics and tell him to grow up and stop being such a softie? Would she get mad? Should he even tell her?
“Katsu?” her soft voice relaxed his muscles like it habitually did, and he sighed deeply before meeting her worried eyes. “Talk to me?”
Y/N had always had this amazing talent of making him feel at ease. Ever since they met, so many months ago, she had this blinding quality that urged him to be quieter, calmer, less defensive. She didn’t even have to try tearing down his walls — they simply melted away when she smiled at him for the first time. He had never really talked about this issue with anyone else before, and he didn’t know how to even start, but Y/N made him want to try. Still, the words felt heavy on his tongue.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered so quietly that she leaned in to hear him, furrowing her eyebrows in disagreement.
“Come on, Katsu. Please?”
He inhaled deeply. She stared patiently, waiting for him to organize his own thoughts enough to explain the thousands of things running through his mind. When his eyes met hers again, he felt warm all over. Katsuki loved the way she looked at him — there was no fear, no ulterior interest, no nonsensical admiration. She looked at him and she saw… Katsuki. Just that. And, strangely, that seemed enough.
The boy averted his eyes from hers. “I don’t want to hurt you with my quirk.”
Oh. Oh? That, well, that was definitely unexpected. The crease in Y/N’s eyebrows deepened. 
“Why would you ever hurt me, Katsuki?”
The future hero lifted his head to look at her instantly, confusion swimming in his red gaze as he answered, “I mean by accident, Y/N. I—,” he almost stopped himself right there, yet her expression caused him to continue, “I really liked holding hands when I was younger, you know? With my friends, teachers, family, and all that,” his ears were bright pink with embarrassment that subsided when she smiled softly at the new information, “it made me feel safe or whatever. Then I—then I got my quirk and, sometimes, when I held hands with people it just—,” he exhaled heavily before letting out a sad, defeated laugh, “I have burned a nasty amount of people. I don’t want to do that with you, too. I’d never want to hurt you.”
Katsuki was hardly a vulnerable person. He tried to be, yes, because he wanted this to work and for it to work he had to meet her halfway somehow during certain moments, but it was so, so difficult. It was so difficult for him to open up and talk about one of his biggest insecurities of all time, about one of the things he most craved for. He didn’t want to scare her away.
“Katsuki.” Her tone was serious and she stared at him with such intensity that he lost the ability to breathe for a second. “I understand where you’re coming from, but that’s bullshit.”
Bakugou blinked. “What?”
“You’d never hurt me, okay? I know you wouldn’t. I trust you, Katsu, so much. I’m sorry I didn’t ask you about this before,” she bit her lip thoughtfully while he could only stand there, dumbfounded with her reaction. 
Out of all his imagined worst-case scenarios, this was a surprise. 
“Katsu,” the girl called to him again, smiling lovingly in that way that made his world spin in its axis when they first met, “do you trust me too?”
“Of course I do,” there was no hesitation this time. Of course he did.
“Can I touch your hands?”
Once again, he froze on the spot. She looked at him expectantly.
People are a lot harder to patch up. She was trying, though. She was really trying to fix the ripped pieces of himself he tried to bury under anger and seclusion, pretending there was nothing wrong and that this was just how things were supposed to be. 
Bakugou looked down at his own hands, studying them carefully. With a last shaky exhale, he nodded.
She took his hands in hers, letting her fingers interlace with his cautiously so as to not startle him. Her thumb caressed his palm ever so softly and he fought the instinctive flinch that threatened to push her away. After years without it, this type of touch felt too intimate, too close, too new.
He liked it. 
He smiled.
“See? Nothing to worry about.” Y/N smiled back, grinning when he took it upon himself to squeeze her hand in appreciation. “You’re fine, Katsuki. I like holding your hand.”
His smile grew wider and he leaned in to kiss her, living for the feeling of her fingers squeezing his while their lips moved slowly. They had kissed a million times before, yet this felt different. If given the chance, Katsuki probably wouldn’t mind being stuck in that moment forever, with her lips on his and his hands on hers — Y/N had melted away all his walls and defenses from the start, and he was incredibly glad. He was incredibly glad for her.
His heart was beating fast inside his chest, especially when she pulled one of his hands up slightly to let it cup her face. A shiver went down his spine as he felt the curve of her jaw under his fingertips, the softness of her skin touching his. When there was not any air left in their lungs, they parted from each other. She turned her face to kiss his palm affectionately and his entire face seemed to burst with love and gratitude.
“I like holding your hand, too.”
She giggled, and, for the first time, Bakugou felt like it’d be alright if he decided not to keep his hands to himself. Such childish, silly bullshit, waiting around when he could’ve been holding hands this whole time.
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A/N: so that was it!!! i hope you liked it!!! hehe hello
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taglists
all: @kiedhara @wingeddemonclub @thedemigodsarealivebitch @ray-ofmoonlight​
also tagging @tsuhika bc i am: a fan and you gave us permission to tag you in shit SOO KJSFBIUEFB LMAO SORRY
1K notes · View notes
stayevildarling · 3 years
Text
Wilhemina Venable x Reader- Sick
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word count: 5.4k
warnings: mention of scoliosis, sickness, dizziness, angst + fluff
A/N: Hi everyone! I can't believe this is my first sick fic but I just had to do one with Wilhemina x Reader. If anyone would like to see some more, I might do a series of these with Cordelia or Ally or even Billie. (Let me know)
This is dedicated to a very special person I met on Tumblr- I hope you remember to take a break from time to time and look after yourself! ✨
Taglist:
@lunaticwhittaker , @mrsdeanhoward , @alexajbitar , @in-cordelias-coven , @kenzbro , @loverofallthingssarah , @twistedpoeticjustice , @billiebeanhoward , @minaslittleone , @lilypadscoven , @vintagepaulson , @ninaahs , @whitelotus00 , @httpfiftyshadesofgay
''If you decide to go into work, it's at your own risk, don't come running to me afterwards, if you don't feel well'' Wilhemina's harsh words ring through your ears as you stand by your desk, trying to focus on the tasks ahead. All you can feel, as your hand wanders to the table, desperately looking for some support to not lose balance, to not give your legs the power to stop supporting you and to fight your body from giving up and letting exhaustion win.
In reality, Wilhemina's words weren't supposed to come out as harsh and rushed as they did, her stern and cold tone and demeanor, only a defensive mechanism for the woman, trying to hide her true feelings that are buried deep within her soul. She meant to protect you, from yourself mostly but also the sickness and the flu that had come knocking about a week ago, but you being stubborn pushing it away as if it wasn't real or meaningful.
However, as you stand by your desk, trying hard not to lose balance, you realize that all along Wilhemina had been right and you should have listened. The times, she told you to stop working so much and doing over hours as your job demanded it, the times she told you that making her a bath or cooking dinner isn't necessary that day. The times she told you to take care of yourself and simply lie down but you wouldn't listen, always caring more about everyone else's wellbeing, especially the redheads than your own.
''Miss Y/L/N, have you finished your assigned task yet by chance?'' you hear the voice of your boss, as she enters and you wish she didn't, as her voice only adds to the throbbing pain in your head, causing your vision to blur and everything to feel even more unbearable than it already does.
With all the fight and strength left in you, you manage to turn around and grab the folder, handing it to her with shaky hands. You had always been good at hiding, either fighting battles of sickness or overwhelming thoughts, drowning in your own emotions deep down but remaining to keep a perfect facade and smile to the people on the outside, so they didn't understand and learn your true feelings as you see no reason to bother them with it. However, no matter how much you try and hide this and pretend that you aren't consumed by sickness fighting your body, it's very visible in your features.
Even though your boss is a very hectic person, always caring about performing well and getting work done as ''efficiently and quickly as possible'' as she repeats on a daily basis, even she manages to notice your fragile state. Your face, which is usually filled with light and warm smiles, doesn't just lack the genuine smile and warmth but also color as you are incredibly pale. She quickly connects the dots, noticing how your hand is gripping around the desk still and how your other hand is shaking uncontrollably.
''Miss Y/L/N, are you feeling alright?'' you hear her ask before your eyes feel heavier as the exhaustion is slowly creeping up on you and you have trouble concentrating on what is happening, as you feel more in a dream-like state. For a moment, everything seems to pause and you only snap out of it when you feel some weight pressing on your shoulders and someone forcing you to sit down on a chair they pulled closer.
Only as you force your eyes open, slightly confused and dumbfounded at what is happening,  you realize it's your boss making you sit down and walking to the other end of the room to get some water for you. ''Miss Y/L/N while I appreciate your determination, you should have called in sick this morning'' she explains, while handing you a glass of water with a compassionate smile but the concern visible in her features. ''I just wanted to-to finish the'' you start but stop midway as you feel sick at the pure sensation of water in your mouth, let alone swallowing it.
''I understand but you need some rest, that much is plain, need me to call someone for you?'' she asks but you instantly tense, knowing your girlfriend Wilhemina will definitely not be amused if she has to pick you up from work, after explicitly telling you not to go in the first place, this morning and last night. Not to mention, she is at her own workplace, having to deal with her own piles of work, her constant back pain, and two idiot bosses on top of it all.
''No I am ok- okay'' you manage to get the words out and force your best smile, knowing if you aren't going to be convincing enough, she might not let you leave without calling someone. ''Very well but you better not show your face here, until you are truly better'' she warns, with a little smile, knowing how determined you are, and while she appreciates your work attitude a lot, she knows you tend to overwork yourself and forgetting to take care of yourself in the process.
Taking a deep breath, you somehow manage to prop yourself up and grab your bag, taking slow but steady steps towards the exit and the bus stop. As you walk through the corridor, momentarily blinded by the bright lights flickering, you are well aware you shouldn't attempt to get on the bus, considering there is still a little walk back to yours and Wilhemina's apartment but you could never bother your girlfriend with this, not because she told you so in the first place but because you need to remain stable and alright.
As you walk through exit and towards the bus stop, you feel some droplets of rain on your skin and instantly shiver a little as the cold water only adds to the uncomfortable feeling. Focussing on your vision and the bus timetable as you actually don't know the times because you would usually never leave work after two hours, the dizziness momentarily passes a little as the thoughts become overwhelming. Waves of uncomfortable thoughts crash into your brain, with no way of stopping ''What if they will fire me, what if people will be disappointed in me, what if Wilhemina hates me?''.
You try your best to take deep breaths and push the thoughts away but the only thing usually helpful at keeping the storm and waves of emotions at bay, is the woman you are trying to hide this from. Usually, she could tell by how stressed or anxious you seem and without addressing it much, she will just pull you into her arms or let your exhausted body rest on her lap, the soft hums and stroking her fingers through your hair, stopping the thoughts momentarily.
''Are you getting on Miss?'' you hear a male unfamiliar voice, snapping you out of your thoughts and noticing that somehow the bus already arrived and you blink a few times, confused whether you just stood there for ages, unable to focus on anything in reality anymore or if it just happened to arrive so quickly. ''Miss?'' he tries again, his voice now showing a slight sign of impatience. Your mind automatically connects it with Wilhemina's impatience whenever you would just admire her, completely taken back by her beauty and features and the same agitation in her voice, as she would try to speak to you.
''Yes,'' you quickly say and get on the bus, showing your ticket like you would every morning. Finally collapsing onto the nearest seat you can find, leaning your head against the window and closing your eyes, you feel some of the exhaustion fade as you sit on a comfortable surface. Your thoughts wander back to Wilhemina and it suddenly dawns on you that you haven't even texted her your usual good morning text yet or checked-in how her work is going. A small part of you wants to avoid any confrontation with her today as you are still worried, she will be mad at you.
After all, maybe you could avoid all the questions and confrontation if you simply lied. Of course, you are fully aware it won't be easy to lie to your girlfriend, especially with her always being able to tell but you wonder if you could somehow pull it off. Pretending to still be at work and only got off work a bit earlier, not to worry her and not to argue, as she did tell you after all not to come running to her.
Deciding on actually messaging her and pulling your phone out of your bag, you realize it was a mistake as soon as the bright screen blinds your vision yet again. All you could see before your eyes force shut, is Wilhemina's name on your screen but you can't begin to read the messages as your fragile state isn't allowing you to do so. Deciding on dealing with that later, you rest your head against the window and zone out for a while, trying hard not to fall asleep on the bus and end up somewhere entirely opposite to your direction and final stop- home.
Part of you doesn't remember how you ended up in bed a while later, your brain too tired to remember the details of getting off the bus at the right stop and walking aimlessly for a few minutes before you found yourself in front of your shared apartment. Thankfully, along the way, your subconsciousness took over and guided your body home safely, as you were in no state to focus on much anymore, your body on autopilot mode.
As soon as your tired body finally comes into contact with your mattress, pulling the blanket closer to your face and snuggling up comfortably, you feel relieved, and before any more waves of overwhelming thoughts arrive, your body finally allows itself to rest and you fall into a deep slumber. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you remembered to set an alarm for in a few hours, making sure you would be awake for when Wilhemina would return, even in your sleepy and sick state, still keeping track of everything and keeping your perfect facade up.
However, whenever you try and protect everyone around you, considering every detail perfectly you tend to ignore yourself in the process and checking in on how you are feeling or how decisions might affect you. As a result, you didn't just take a small nap like intended, you fell asleep, sleeping off most of the fever and letting your tired body fight the illness. However, due to your state, you fail to wake up from the alarm or wake up to Wilhemina coming home from work, a little early as she couldn't reach you all day, not the usual lunchtime call or messages you would sent her, no matter how busy you are.
As soon as Wilhemina unlocks the door, discarding her small purple handbag on the table, she walks through the apartment in an effort to find you, her cane hitting the floor hard and with a heavy force, reflecting what she is feeling inside. Of course, she had known you haven't been feeling well and not only hiding it from her but also trying to push through like you usually would. The redhead didn't mean to lash out at you or use the harsh words she did in the end but your actions and behavior reminded the sometimes stern woman of her own behavior. Always ignoring her back pain and pushing through endless emails or documents on her desk, regretting it the same day or days later when the pain felt unbearable, and yet she still hid it from everyone.
She was trying to look out for you, the times she told you not to go in, take a break, and also when she said she wouldn't be there. Of course, she would, Wilhemina loves you and her love for you has been both the most confusing and strong thing she has ever felt for anyone. You had crashed into Wilhemina's life like a thunder, unexpected, and with heavy force, she had no idea the day you walked into her life, it would change everything. It didn't just change Wilhemina herself and being able to open up slowly, it also allowed her to feel emotions and understand them as something positive and not something you should try and hide or avoid at all costs. From day one you had brought out her soft side, allowing those walls to tumble down and letting the light and love into her life as her heart has been a dark and lonely place for long enough.
Her first stop is the kitchen, hoping deep down she wouldn't find you cooking in there, or the dining room with a meal prepared, as she wouldn't want you to overwork yourself even more after work. After not finding you there, she checks the bathroom but no sign of you either, only to finally be met with the bedroom in complete darkness. Slightly dumbfounded, she switches the light on, the lamp slowly filling the room with light and exposing your fragile, shivering body on the bed.
Wilhemina's heart almost breaks at the sight, seeing you in such discomfort and knowing at the same time it must be bad if you voluntarily went to bed early and skip the usual responsibilities that aren't actually your chores or Wilhemina expecting them of you but you thinking that regardless. She slowly approaches the bed, her cane hitting the floor very carefully and quiet now, sure to not wake you up in the process, as she wouldn't want to startle you or add to the discomfort you are in.
She finds you wrapped in a blanket, still wearing the clothes you had left in this morning and Wilhemina knows if you willingly did that, you must have felt awful when you returned home. Her hand wanders closer to your face, gently tucking at the blanket so she can take a look at your face. She gasps a little when she sees how pale you are, droplets of sweat on your forehead at the same time and her heart breaks at the sight, seeing her little one in this much pain and distress.
For a moment the redhead debates what to do as she has never been great at taking care of anyone or allowing people to take care of herself. As a child, she was often told not to exaggerate, that her back pain isn't that bad, that it doesn't need checking out from doctors and that she just has to deal with it. Eventually, she started to believe it and the emotional abuse she suffered in her young years, combined with the pain, made the redhead believe that she isn't worthy of affection or love or someone taking care of her. Even till this day, she barely allows you to help her out with her pains, not liking the fact anyone would show her the affection and tender care that was lacking in her younger years.
Gently, her hand reaches for your forehead, her rational thinking kicking in now to determine the state and severity of your illness. As soon as the back of her palm comes into contact with your forehead, she gasps, her facial expression changing from concerned and wishing she could just cure you right there, into worrying and shock. Her nostrils flare as she has no idea how you managed to get through the last hours and at the same time feeling angry, that you kept her in the dark and didn't call her. A small part of Wilhemina understands however, as she would have done the same thing, hide, keep the perfect smile and pretend like nothing is bothering her.
Wilhemina stands there for a moment, looking over your body exhausted from sickness, deciding on what to do, her rational side is telling her to take you to a doctor but there is no way she would trust them. The redhead woman had too many bad experiences before to trust them again, often mistreated with her back or prescripted the wrong medication and there is no way she would ever let her little one go through similar experiences. In the end, she decides on the only thing logical which is taking care of you herself, right at home. She balances on her cane again, trying to be quiet before walking into the kitchen to retrieve the necessary items.
The ruffling noises, mixed with cane tapping coming from the kitchen, as well as the cold unknown feeling on your forehead a little while ago, end up waking you up from your slumber, and instantly your body tenses up as you realize Wilhemina is home. In your slightly panicked state, overwhelmed with the thoughts on how to get out of this situation, ignoring the throbbing headache or the fact the room is spinning from the lack of food and water today, you once again fail to acknowledge what is right in front of you.
Right in front of you, stands Wilhemina, your girlfriend, a little tray in her hand, trying to balance it with the support of her cane and free hand, looking at you with a confused reaction, both about the fact you are awake and also the fact you are staring at the wall, not moving at all. ''Little one, you are awake'' she states, her voice sounding a little softer than usual. Instantly you snap out of it, panic once again rippling through your body as you fear her reaction, ignoring the fact she is standing in front of you with a little tray with water, soup, and medication.
Wilhemina notices you tensing, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling in her back that the carrying of the tray had caused her, she walks closer to the bed, putting the tray on the night table finally, before breathing out a moment as the uncomfortable feeling leaves her. She turns to you, her eyebrows furrowing again, the concern now very visible in her features, unable to hide it any longer and not caring about that, your wellbeing her main priority.
''Little one'' she states, her head tilting slightly and her eyes slowly locking with yours as you force yourself to take a look at your girlfriend. As soon as you take a look at the redhead, you feel partly relieved as there is no sign of anger visible but at the same time, you feel awful for the concern you had caused her, not to mention the back pain you must have caused her, considering her awkward posture, standing in front of you, still balancing both hands on her cane. Finally, as your eyes wander to the little tray, you feel like bursting into tears at the fact Wilhemina had done this for you, considering she must have just returned from work and you knowing how hard things like these are for her with her condition.
''Mina?'' your voice cracks not only from the feeling of knives in your throat as illness seems to have taken up most of your body but also tears building up, both guilty ones putting Wilhemina through the effort as well as sad ones that your walls are breaking down, right here in front of the woman you usually encourage to let her walls down and true emotions in.
''I'm here little one'' she whispers, her hand wandering to your cheek, cupping it gently and stroking it with the back of her palm. It doesn't take words to exchange what is on each other's mind, you feeling sorry for lying and pushing, realizing now that indeed your partner had been right from the start. And Wilhemina also feeling guilty for using such harsh words on you this morning and at the same time upset to see her girl in such distress and pain. As soon as you feel her palm on your cheek, some tears stream down your face as you try and contain the sobs and fight back the last few emotions and thoughts, keeping you from breaking right in front of her.
As soon as Wilhemina feels the tears falling, she catches them with her thumb, wiping them away gently before whispering ''Now don't cry sweet girl'' trying to hide her own emotions and the pain it brings her whenever seeing you upset. Whenever she would see you in any kind of distress or any negative emotion visible in your features it would cause her great pain, a different kind of feeling than her back could ever cause her, as her heart would ache, her only intention to make you smile again, especially in that dorky adorable way she loves and that causes for her heart to flutter, even though she wouldn't admit that to anyone, including you.
After wiping your tears, Wilhemina hands you some water and medication from the tray and you look at her with a slightly confused expression, as you haven't fully realized yet, it doesn't need words for Wilhemina to understand how awful you are feeling. ''Now take them little one, it will make you feel better'' she promises and without thinking twice you lead the tablets to your mouth, swallowing them with some water. The feeling of the cold liquid soothing your throat momentarily distracts you from the pain that you seem to feel all over your body. ''Good girl'' Wilhemina praises as you hand her the bottle, a little smirk rising on your features.
''Now I need you to eat this'' she demands, handing you the bowl of chicken noodle soup, that you usually love. You look at her with a slightly disgusted expression as the thought of food is only adding to the sick feeling in your stomach. ''I know but eat up for me, will you?'' she asks gently, not reminding you of the stern Wilhemina at all. All you can do in response is nod and take the bowl from her hands. ''I will be right back'' she explains, leaving you behind with your soup before walking out of the bedroom. For a moment you debate whether to just abandon the food again, as you genuinely don't feel like eating but there is no way you would let the woman you had fallen in love with, down a second time today.
You enjoy the silence for a moment, the only sounds to be heard, the spoon as it scoops up the liquid, feeling soothing in your throat but painful in your stomach at the same time. Shortly after the sound of a cane fills the room again and with each tap you somehow feel nervous, knowing the conversation was still to be held why you had lied to Wilhemina and not listened to her in the first place, only adding to the anxiety you feel. You see as the redhead walks in with a few towels and your favorite pajamas, that she would usually mock, too ''adorable'' for her liking, as you would usually put it.
''Have you had some?'' she asks and points at the soup and you simply nod while your eyes are begging her not to eat anymore. ''Fine, come on there is a bath waiting for you'' she informs you and you simply nod and slowly make your way out of bed. Midway to the bathroom, you realize how severe the nauseous feeling has been and you hold onto the wall to balance for a moment before you feel a hand on your back. ''I'm right by your side'' you hear Wilhemina's voice behind you and it sends a warm, comfortable fuzzy feeling through your body, reminding you that you aren't alone in this and that your girlfriend has got your back, literally.
You manage to find your way to the bathroom, with the support of Wilhemina's hand on your back and even though it takes you a while, you manage to sit in the bath and let the warm water soothe your skin and tired muscles. ''Do you think you will be okay in here for a bit?'' Wilhemina asks and you simply nod, feeling sleepy and relaxed at the same time. As your partner, walks back in the bedroom to prepare you for the night ahead and her own night which will probably result in no sleep and a lot of worrying over you, you sink a little further into the bath, confusing the bathtub with your own bed for a moment as you feel a little too comfortable.
''Little one are you-'' Wilhemina enters the bathroom, only to find you in the bath, asleep, your head resting on the purple little pillow she had bought a while ago and attached it to the bath. She frowns at the sight for a moment, before her features change as she realizes, this time she is going to have to wake you up, as there is no way her back condition will allow her to simply lift you out of the bath and carry you to bed, as much as she would like to do that. The usual strong woman fights some of her own tears back both at your state but also the painful reminder of her scoliosis.
Slowly you wake up, as you feel some water on your head and a hand washing out some shampoo, combined with a few muffled words that you can't quite understand yet, only just having woken up from your little slumber. ''Little one, wake up we have got to get you out of here'' you hear Mina's voice. You blink a few times, dumbfounded at the fact you are in the bath, not remembering much but feeling that your body is already feeling more relaxed than waking up earlier from your first slumber. ''Mina, what are you doing?'' you question as you realize she is bending awkwardly to wash your hair out and free it from the bubbles of shampoo. Quickly you sit up and free her from the uncomfortable position. ''Come on let's get you out'' she says and with all the strength you have left, you prop yourself up and exit the bath. Soon your skin comes into contact with a warm towel provided by Wilhemina.
You enjoy the feeling for a moment, before slowly getting changed into your pajamas and following your partner back to the bedroom. At this point, the medication has already freed you from most of your pain but your body still feels exhausted, so you quickly lie down in bed and pull the blanket closer, shivering slightly from the cool sensation of the air on your legs. Wilhemina returns to the bedroom, moments later in her purple nightgown, her hair falling loosely now and you admire your girlfriend for a moment, never quite able to believe how lucky you truly are and also always finding yourself taken back by her beauty, after years of being with each other.
The redhead approaches her side of the bed, book in hand as usual but for a change abandoning it on her night table, resting her cane in her usual spot, and carefully sitting down while leaning her back against the headboard of the bed. ''Come here'' she instructs, opening her arms and freeing her lap for you to rest your head in. Usually, she would do this after you had a long day at work, Wilhemina being able to tell instantly what an awful day you must have had and how it exhausted you both mentally and physically.
Reluctantly, you move your tired head onto her lap, still worried deep down about the conversation that is yet to be held and her true feelings about this. You had lied to her, hidden the truth from her and even though the redhead had often done the same, it felt different to you, like a betrayal. Your eyes close as soon as you feel her hands come into contact with your head, her fingers running through your hair gently and momentarily numbing the pain you are in. The smell of lavender sends you in a little dreamlike state as your partner just did a small evening routine instead of the usual, more bothered about making sure you are safe and feeling alright.
''Is that the hand cream?'' you mumble, starting to feel sleepy already as your whole body is ready to forget about today, the medication soothing your tired muscles and keeping your temperature at bay. ''It is little one'' Wilhemina whispers, smiling a little and relieved that you are still somewhat in a clear headspace as you remembered the lavender hand cream you had bought her before. She strokes your hair, untangling some knots gently with her fingertips as there was no time to brush your hair, the idea of the comfortable bed too convincing.
''Are you feeling alright, my darling?'' she asks, noticing how you are already on the verge of falling asleep. ''Hm Mh'' you mumble, as you slowly start falling asleep, despite trying to fight to stay awake to be in your partner's embrace and feel her safety and the warmth she radiates onto you, just a moment longer. She frowns, hating to see you pushing yourself so hard and her not being able to do anything about it, the state you are in now only the result of pushing yourself over the past few days.
''You need to stop being so hard on yourself and pushing'' she warns, knowing deep down you aren't fully aware of her words anymore as you fall into a slumber. ''I just want you to be safe and healthy'' she carries on, holding you in her arms, as if she was trying to shield you from the outside world and things that might be thrown across your way, including yourself. As soon as the redhead hears your little snores, she smiles a little, happy you are at least getting some more rest in her arms and at the same time glad, she is able to protect you now, knowing tomorrow is another day to come to have an actual conversation about this. She averts her gaze, and she is met with the mirror on the other side of the room, seeing you asleep on her lap and for a moment the woman, usually so hard on herself crumbles for a second as tears stream down her cheeks.
She remembers the moments in her younger years or even to this day, where she kept pushing and listening to her parents or the ugly voices in her head, telling her she isn't deserving to take breaks or look after herself. As she sees you safe and sound in her arms she can't help but feel gratitude, that you had walked into her life a while ago, knowing that you both have each other now. At this moment as she watches your tired body, chest rising and falling with each breath, she promises herself to never let you push this much again and to get you to take care of yourself, fully aware it won't be easy as she struggles with those things herself.
''Everything will be okay, I'm here little one you are safe'' she whispers, reassuring you again that you aren't alone in this and that she will be by your side. After watching you for a few seconds longer, she carefully reaches for her book, opening it and keeping herself occupied while she is determined to stay awake, not caring about sleep herself as she feels the need to stay with you and be there for you in case you wake up and need the redhead.
As she opens her book, now occupied by it, you are already asleep, your body slowly healing from today, both a mix of medication, rest but also the tender care, love, and affection Wilhemina has shown you since arriving back home and continues showing, as one of her hands is still rubbing soothing circles on your head, occasionally checking your forehead for a temperature.
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