#but i will say. almost every take i’ve seen on them has been mind-numbing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

winniethewife · 6 months

Text

It's undeniably real (Layla El-Faouly x The Moonknight system x Reader)

Chapter 6: I'll be close behind

Warning: Angst, Alcoholism, Alcohol consumption. Trauma talk.

Last chapter ~ Next chapter

Words:1069

I never knew how it would affect me. It seemed simple, or maybe just necessary. I loved them, I should be able to do what they do. I just had no idea how good I was going to be, or how that would change my life.

Jake took me to a shooting range. I’d never shot a Gun before, I was definitely nervous. Then the weirdest thing happened, every shot I took, was a perfect hit. Jake’s eyes widened and he started talking quietly to his reflection, speaking to the others I assumed, He said something about “Perfect aim” and “Some guy in New York.” I just felt my mind start to go numb. Memories of My days in archery class start coming back to me, being exceptionally good at it, excelling in my class, but this same numbness. I was startled back to reality when Jake touches my shoulder calling my name.

“Sorry.” I mumble as I look into his concerned eyes.

“There’s nothing to apologize for Hermosa. Qué tienes en mente?” Jake ask pulling me into his arms.

“Sometimes…Sometimes I think there’s a whole part of my life I don’t remember, Like its been blocked out of my head, and whenever I try to remember, I just feel…Numb. I…I don’t know.” I rest my head on his shoulder. Jake was quiet for a moment.

“I know exactly what you mean mi amor” Jake says softly. That’s when I realized of all the people I could be talking to, they were probably the ones who would understand the most. Jake pulls me in closer holding the back of my head to press my face into his chest. I catch a glance of his face. I’ve never seen Jake scared before now, and that scares me more than anything.

“So your memories stop after the last time you saw Layla, and Pick back up after you graduate from the academy.” Marc says as he take a sip from his whiskey. We were at a bar, probably not wise for either of us but it was quiet. Just a hole in the wall bar with cheap drinks and very little clientele. Somewhere we can talk and not be bothered by others.

“Yeah… it’s like a switch got flipped, My father sends me to this academy in the middle of nowhere. I Say goodbye to Layla then, I’ve just got lots of gaps. I remember things that happened but what I actually learned or did there other than write Layla or hang out with friends... Its all fuzzy….or just gone.” I look over at him swirling my drink in the glass “And whenever I get close to remembering something everything just numbs out can’t remember shit.”

“But at some point during this time period, someone trained you to be a killing machine…” Marc says quietly. I can tell he’s angry. Angry at my parents for sending me there. Angry that the place exists in the first place. Over the last week of experimenting we had figured out, I know martial arts, I can shoot almost anything, and I don’t know when or how I learned any of it. I was terrified. I wanted to down this drink, and two more after, maybe more. I shake my head and look up at Marc, he’s staring at his own glass, I know he’s thinking the same thing.

“It’s not worth it… you said it, one drink and then we leave, just to destress.” I remind him, although I feel like I’m also reminding myself.

“I know…I know.” Marc looks over at me. He has that look in his eye. The one reserved for me, the one only I understand its meaning, his brow furrowed in worry. I take his hand in mine. Squeezing it tight.

“We’re going to figure it out…somehow.”

“And what If I can’t? What if something goes wrong?” Marc’s voice wavers as he says this.

“I know…I know we will.” He sighs. I can tell there’s more he wants to say, His dark eyes speaking unspoken words. The concern, the understanding. I take his dink and put it down on the bar holding both his hands in mine as I look him straight in the eye.

“I’ll follow you...I know you’ll keep me safe…every step of the way.”

“Then we’ll figure it out.”

“You sound like a broken record.” He chuckles

“Well…you come up with something better.” I smirk at him.

“Come on let’s get out of this dump.”

Layla and I looked over the supplies for the mission, all the stuff we had acquired laid out in the storage unit. I felt like I’d done this before, but I don’t know when. It bothers me, I look over at Layla and I don’t know what to say as I watch her, she is everything to me, she has been for as long I can remember, And now they both mean more than I could ever imagine, I don’t know what will come of this but I can only hope for the best. Layla turns to me and notices my gaze.

“It’s going to be okay. Trust me.” She says softly.

“Oh, I trust you, I trust you all. I just don’t trust myself. I have no idea what happened to me at the academy. I have no idea what they trained me to do or who they made me become. It’s also odd that in all the research he’s done, Steven can’t even find it, I like it never existed.” I say with worry seeping through my body. “What if...What if I can’t control it…what if I hurt someone What if I hurt one of you?” My vision blurs with tears. Layla rushes to embrace me.

“Shhh...It won’t happen…We won’t let it happen.” She says as she presses her forehead to mine. I feel the tears fall from my eyes, I want to tell her that she shouldn’t make promises she can’t keep. I want to tell her how I don’t know what to do, or what will happen, how I’ll never forgive myself, but her eyes are so full of determination. She is so sure, I just feel myself give in, tears streaking down my face as I nod.

“Okay…Okay. We can do this.” I whisper, holding her face in my hands.

“Of course we can…we can do anything together…As long as we stay together.”

“Together.”

Translations:

Qué tienes en mente?: what's on your mind?

Masterlist

Taglist: @redeyerhaenyra @summonthesoups

#moon knight #marc spector #x reader #jake lockley #layla el faouly x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #moonknight x reader #steven grant x reader #polyamory #poly representation #moon knight system #moon boys #layla el faouly #Spotify #steven grant #angst #tw alchoholism

28 notes · View notes

my-autism-adhd-blog · 9 months

Note

CW: Intrusive thoughts (nearly acting one out which would hurt an animal)

Hi! I’m not really sure how to go about asking this, but a few years ago I was professionally diagnosed with autism and whilst it explained a lot of my behaviours there are still quite a few that aren’t “normal” and I’m not sure if it’s something else, but I thought you’d be the best person to come to (I’ve tried talking to my parents about it several times but they brushed it off, and since I’m a year off 18 I can’t really do anything about it myself).

Throughout most of my life I haven’t like getting dirty, and whilst this is partially a sensory thing, every time I touch something that I perceive to be dirty—even if I know that it’s clean and it has been cleaned several times over—I can’t touch it and if I do then my hands feel like they’re covered in a thin layer of filth and I can’t concentrate on anything else until I wash my hands thoroughly, and this can lead me to washing my hands at least fifteen times a day, but I can go days without showering and not feeling bothered by it at all. My parents sometimes ask me why I just seem to “randomly” wash my hands but I don’t want to tell them the actual reason because they’d say I was overreacting, but this can lead me to not wanting to touch people at all, especially their hands because they’re usually the dirtiest part of a person (with a couple of exceptions) and like I said I can’t stand the thought of having some else’s germs on me. Again I don’t know if this is an autism-related thing since sensory issues also come into play but I haven’t seen much about it in relation to ASD.

Another couple of things I wanted to ask about was intrusive thoughts and dissociation: I’ve been having intrusive thoughts for the last few years and most of the time I can deal with them but lately I’ve been really struggling with not acting them out, for example I’ll get one urging me to physically lash out or tell yell slurs or verbally abuse someone and it’s difficult to hold myself back now, which is similar to when they first started, where I got an intrusive thought to strangle one of my pets and it was difficult for me to not go through with it (don’t worry they’re fine I didn’t hurt them) but it distresses me that if I was zoned out enough for even just a bit I could go through with them.

As for the dissociation, again that’s been happening for a couple years, where it’s been manageable, but the last few months/year I keep zoning out a lot for long periods of time to the point where it badly impacted my grades and school work because I’d barely ever be able to pay attention in lessons, even ones I enjoyed—the teacher could be standing right in front of me and talking but I wouldn’t be able to hear a word they were saying even if I was looking at them, and a lot of the time I wasn’t even aware that I was looking at them because my eyes wouldn’t take anything in and I’d be completely inside my head. Lately it’s been getting worse because whilst I’ve always had vivid dreams it’s started to get increasingly difficult to tell what are dreams and what aren’t—even ones that are completely nonsensical—because it’s gotten to the point where my dreams feel too real and my waking life feels fake and my mind and body feel numb, my dreams feel so much more vivid and realistic, and it sometimes gets to the point where sometimes I don’t know whether I’m awake or not because real life doesn’t feel real. It doesn’t help that for the last couple of weeks I’ve been having nightmares almost every night, which ends up in me waking up terrified in the middle of the night because it feels like the threat’s actually there so I’ve been perpetually exhausted due to disrupted sleep and insomnia because it’s gotten to the point where I’m scared of falling asleep. Back to the dissociation bit, a lot of the time I also don’t seem to know what I’m doing or where I’m going and it can again sometimes feel like I’m dreaming even though I’m wide awake because my mind and senses feel disconnected from my body, I think this is sometimes described as brain fog? but I’m not entirely sure.

Sorry this turned out to be really long but I just wanted to see what your thoughts were because I’ve been really struggling lately, and there’s currently nobody else I can talk to about this. If you respond then thank you in advance, it would mean a lot to me.

Hi there,

I’ll do my best to answer this.

The washing your hands part reminds a little of OCD. And it can coincide with autism. Here’s a Venn diagram showing the difference and similarities:

The link to this article will be below if you want to read it.

I can’t really help you with the dissociation part, that’s something that needs to be talked about with a professional or therapists. Maybe some of my followers can give advice.

I’m sorry I couldn’t answer your question fully. But thank you for the inbox. I hope you have a wonderful day/night. ♥️

#inbox #inbox reply #inbox is open

20 notes · View notes

imfearlessfics · 1 year

Text

Chapter 2: The Beginning

Song: No Celestial by LESSERAFIM

Pairing: Yunjin x female reader

Genre: Fluff, funny, romance

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety and panic attack, explicit language

Word count: 1.2k

3 years earlier …

Holy shit.

Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit, that’s Huh Yunjin.

Can bi-panic be a thing? I guess that wouldn’t make sense if I like men and women because liking a man is to be expected but so is liking a woman, but I’ve never dated a woman so would this classify as bi-panic? I mean if I really break it down -

God, even my internal ramblings are insufferable. Pull it together, y/n.

But honestly, how can I? Has there ever been a more perfect human? She’s stunning. I’m halfway across a giant building, and I can see that clear as day. The long brown hair with just the right amount of wave to give it an “I-woke-up-like-this” look, but I know it took at least two stylists to make it curl like that. The cute bags under her eyes that make her that much more precious. The button nose that scrunches up when she laughs. And that smile.

My goodness, that smile is everything. Bright and perfect and angelic and … can a smile even be angelic? I’ve never seen an angel; How would I know what their smiles look like? Do angels smile? I mean I say I’ve never seen an angel, but looking at her, I just -

God dammit, there I go again.

How can she make me this flustered from across the room? I’ve never even met the woman.

Wait. I’ve never met her, but I very well could! I’ll be working in the same building as her. What if I bump into her in the hallways? What if we lock gazes in the cafeteria? What if we like to go on walks at the same time every morning and we end up awkwardly running into each other every single day and then -

Stay cool, y/n. You didn’t come all the way to South Korea to have a meltdown on the first day.

I haven’t always wanted to travel. In fact, I spent most of my life preparing for the ordinary. Mortgages, tax returns, sensible footwear … But after COVID, I got an itch I just couldn’t scratch. There was so much world to see, and despite sometimes feeling invincible in my 20’s, tomorrow is never promised. So I dove right into the deep end. I started taking Korean classes at the local university, did mind-numbing amounts of research, and just did the thing.

As simple as I try to make it sound, though, I’ve never done something more challenging. My self-esteem was buried six feet under for the longest time. I took up as little space as possible, spoke quietly and only when spoken to, and I just felt stuck. My insecurities were chains that kept me trapped in a cycle of hopelessness. I fell into a funk and almost gave up on the whole thing. Korean was kicking my ass, applying for jobs in a different continent was so confusing, and I constantly questioned if I was good enough to make content for such a big company.

And then I heard LESSERAFIM for the first time, and everything just clicked. The powerful lyrics, their work ethic, the transparency of their journey - I saw myself in them, and I got a new rush of inspiration to follow my dreams.

It’s been two years of non-stop grinding, but I am now standing in the lobby of Hybe (holy shit), getting ready to start my first day as a content creator for Source Music. It sounds too good to be true, but trust me when I say that years of hard work, dedication, and -

Oh my god, why is she closer than she was a couple of minutes ago? Oh my god she is walking in my direction. My direction? It’s not really my direction, I don’t own it or anything. The direction that I’m in? Towards the general vicinity?

Y/n, shut up and focus.

“Annyeonghaseyo” Did she just say hi to me? Why are my lips not fucking moving? Say something - anything! What was the point of all those Korean lessons if you can’t say one freaking -

“Annyeonghaseyo. Mwohsseul deulilkkayo?” Why is someone asking me what I want? Oh …

Her (gorgeous) smile is for the barista. At the cafe. That I’m currently standing right next to. I forgot I was grabbing a coffee before the introductory meeting. I also forgot to pick my jaw up off the floor as she walked by, so I probably look like I’m losing oxygen right by the freakin’ latte machine.

I love when I play it cool. Just love it.

I quickly grab my cup that’s been sitting there for goodness knows how long and shuffle to the elevators. Dying from embarrassment wasn’t on the list of things to do on my first day, but we love a good plot twist.

The ride up to the 4th floor is agonizing. I don’t know when the nerves started kicking in, but I can feel it building in my chest. Come on, y/n. Not today. Please not today.

I’ve had anxiety since I can remember, but years of therapy have helped me come up with ways to lessen the blow when my brain decides to have a cortisol rager. Deep breaths, counting backwards from 100, tucking my knees to my chest. They’ve all worked to an extent, but the thing that brings me back to earth the quickest is something my mom taught me when I was young.

“Put your hand over your heart, y/n. Close your eyes, and say ‘I’m safe. I’m safe. I’m safe.’ Think of the things that bring you peace, and don’t stop until you understand that you’re not in danger.” Years of therapy, and this works better than just about anything.

I look at my reflection in the elevator doors. Brown, curly hair, brown eyes, and a whopping 5’4” - average. That’s what I always thought about myself, but I’m starting to realize the beauty in my figure. I have thick thighs with beautiful stretch marks and a tummy that sticks out ever so slightly. “That’s a full belly, sweetheart. And it’s beautiful,” my mom used to say. My hair is just as stubborn as I am, with curls that get tangled if someone even breathes near me. But my favorite feature is my tattoo. A red snake that runs the length of my right arm. It’s easy to think I got it just cuz I’d look badass, and while I absolutely do look badass, it’s more than that. Red is the color of passion and love, and snakes represent transformation and creativity. I spent my whole life doubting myself - doubting that I’d ever amount to anything great. But in the last couple of years, I’ve realized how much power I truly hold. I refuse to spend any more energy believing that I’m not worth it, and this tattoo represents that growth.

Existential thoughts in the Hybe elevator … take it down a couple notches, y/n.

I place my hand over my chest just like my mom said, and repeat the mantra. “I’m safe. I’m safe. I’m safe.” I’m interrupted when I hear the ding of the elevator, and I cautiously step out. I’ve officially made it to the first day of the rest of my life.

__________________________________________________________

Hi everyone! Hope you like chapter 2:) It's not super exciting, but I wanted to give some backstory to the main character!

13 notes · View notes

screwthat · 2 years

Photo

Dear Barbara, It’s been a while since I wrote to you. I think about you all the time, so sometimes I still make up letters in my head, and I guess, to me, that feels good enough. It’s not like you’ll read these; they’re diary entries, anyway. And you’re dead. But it felt like a good idea to write today. Do something tangible. I’ve been thinking about your grave, recently. I think because we got this massive surge of rain last week, and I saw this, like, sort of miniature mud slide on the side of the road when I was driving to school. And I was wondering, how heavy would that rain have to be to dig down into your grave and bring you back up. Would you float out from the cemetery, end up in a coffin-boat right outside the general store on Main?

Probably not, obviously. But it’s been on my mind, just how to take care of you. And when I’m not there, who is? Are there flowers at your grave? Has anyone stopped by lately? To make sure you aren’t lonely. Or just to say hello, even just in passing. God, you should’ve seen Jason. He was so... angry, about Chrissy. I couldn’t help but remember spotting him laughing at some dumb joke about the “chemical spill” that everyone still thinks killed you. I know he didn’t realize I saw him, or that I heard. No one ever does. For a while they were mean, like, genuinely, actually cruel. But they stopped after we held your funeral. I always thought that was funny. They stopped making jokes in front of me, stopped asking me out on fake dates and talking about that stupid marquee. But they didn’t care, not really. It was just how they were supposed to act. How they were meant to be.

I’m sorry I haven’t been by lately. With the “earthquake”, with everything... I saw something, a while ago. I haven’t really talked about it too much, because, you know, it just feels like, with everything going on, it feels sort of stupid. It didn’t happen. But I saw it, and it felt real. It was like my old nightmares, the visceral kinds, but more... real, somehow. It’s brought them back, in part, but instead of just being of you, it’s everything. It’s Mike. Mom. Holly. Jon. I almost tried praying the other night, which felt dumb, you know? I used to cry when I prayed, every night. I’d wait until the last moment to go to bed, knowing I’d see you. Knowing you wouldn’t say anything. Knowing how I’d wake up again. And you wouldn’t.

I had this enormous sense of guilt about surviving, and I still do. But I think I’ve changed some perspective, at least in part. I take the guilt and I let it sort of just build up like some sort of tension, like mentos in soda or something. And I use it differently. That’s helpful, now. It works in crisis, you know, but not really in, like, day to day. I’ve tried to fix it, or bury it, because I mean, what’s the possibility of actually avoiding that feeling? Realistically. I still see you in everything. Everywhere. And that triggers the guilt, and that turns into something else, like, this weird... twisting, gnawing sort of feeling.

I couldn’t tell you if that was smart, or good, or better than whatever it was I used to be. But I’m not sad, anymore. I’ve stopped crying. I don’t dread seeing you in my dreams, or even in my nightmares. They’ve become kind of... easy. That’s not the right word, I guess, but I suppose I’ve just become numb to that sort of fear. That paranoia used to be overwhelming. I still have that coffee machine under my bed, I guess just as a precaution now. Might need it soon again, all things considered. But I don’t want you to freak, you know. Things changed. I used to feel powerless, like the people I loved being taken, being hurt, being killed, like that was all inevitable. But I don’t think like that anymore.

I hate the person I am now, but I think, since I lived, since I did survive, I had to become this girl. I’m not scared, Barb. I’m not powerless. I’m not a coward. Not anymore. These days, I’m angry.

Always yours, N.R.W.

#long post #do n/t r/b please 😁#▌ ⁑╰ i. meta / details & footnotes ∎ ჻ ɐʇǝɯ .#▌ ⁑╰ iv. barb / the red spot ∎ ჻ ɐɹɐqɹɐq .#▌ ⁑╰ ii. looks / you’re beautiful ∎ ჻ sʞool .

20 notes · View notes

bigxrig · 2 years

Text

Books

The Summer of Broken Rules by K.L Walther

Fics

I’m a Fool for You by @berzerkshires

Written for 1D Astro Fic Fest with the prompt: The Fool: The Fool is a card of new beginnings, opportunities and potential. You're at the beginning of your new journey. You have to take the first step into the unknown and follow your heart. Now is a time when you need to trust where the Universe is taking you.

Harry is a successful, past MVP player in the NBA. When he gets news of his stepfather's passing in the middle of a game, he walks out of the game, threatening to never come back. He's not been true to himself for years, and it's going to take a stranger from his hometown to help him understand that being yourself is not as scary as he thought.

Cowgirl Take Me Away by @littleroverlouis

Louis has two great loves in her life: Harry and Harry's cowboy boots.

Dog Got Your Tongue? by seducedbycurls

Louis is a dog walker. || Person a spills coffee on person b when they trip AU

Truebonds by @jacaranda-bloom

Louis doesn't mind being an omega, most of the time. Modern medicine allows him to suppress almost all of his omega traits, but the one thing it can't suppress is his scenting cycle. Fortunately, that only needs to be dealt with every seven years and he counts himself lucky that he can afford the services of a reputable agency.With his cycle due, he reviews the matched candidates and there's one alpha who fits all of his criteria, S28A. That's pretty much where things start to unravel.

Enter Harry Styles, scenter for hire.Or the one where Louis is an omega in need, Harry is an alpha for hire, and destiny presents them with a fate they never saw coming.

Searching for a Paradise by wordssnotes // @quelsentiment

With a good career, a nice apartment and a kind boyfriend, it would be fair to say that Harry has it all figured out. But when her old friend Zayn comes back to London after years of travelling the world, Harry starts to doubt the life that she's built for herself.

Whispers In The Trees by hazzayoudoing

“Any chance you’ve got a mobile phone on you, Curly?” Louis asks.

Before he gets a chance to think about answering, he feels Louis’ hands begin to pat him down. Harry breathes in deeply and begs his body not to move, wills himself not to care that Louis has just reached into the small pocket of his ridiculous dressing gown and grabbed his mobile.

Louis dials 911 while Harry focuses on his breathing, his lips feeling a little numb. He needs to calm down. That girl is dead. He’s about 99% sure of it. He’s never seen a dead body before. He and Louis, they’re witnesses to a murder now. All he wanted tonight was to have a bake and to be able to fall asleep peacefully.

Or, an AU in which Louis and Harry witness a murder on the pristine campus of Wellington Academy, their posh boarding school. They band up with their friends and family members to attempt to solve the whole thing—since the murderer has decided to target them next. Featuring a healthy dose of sexual tension and falling in love, a turtle named Plimpton, the best picnic you’ve never been on, and the many, varied nicknames that Harry Styles is given from Niall Horan.

I Know I've Got This (because I've Had It All Along) by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

Louis’ grip is delicate when she pinches the edge of the paper, brows furrowing as she reads the words that are written in an elegant loopy script. She glances at Liam once the words sink in, and he looks so happy and proud, so expectant. He’s on the edge of his seat, only Zayn’s hand on his shoulder holding him back, and Louis can feel something murky swirling in her stomach at the thought of having to feign appreciation.

Harry Styles

Body Positivity & Boudoir Photography

The card is purple, the letters printed on it in black, with an almost lace looking overlay over the words. There’s what might be a bow belonging to a cute pair of panties separating Harry’s name from the service they offer. It’s a cute card. It’s what’s on the other side that has Louis’ stomach in a knot. Good for one (1) photography session and up to thirty (30) photos of your choice.

Waiting On You by @alltheselights

“Vampires,” Louis says with disgust, glaring over at the vampire who is noisily slurping from the woman’s neck nearby.

Zayn gives the neat fang marks on Louis’ neck a meaningful look.

“Can’t live with them, can’t live without them,” Louis finishes, ignoring Zayn when he rolls his eyes.

Louis takes a long sip of his milkshake, presses his fingers against the marks on his neck, and definitely doesn’t think about the vampire who left them there.

But I Know I’m Better With You by @restless-rebels

I'm still a mess but you hold on Don't know just why you do But I know I'm better with you

Edible Stars by @solitudeandchaos

“You know what we should do?” Niall interrupts. “What?” “The BDSM test.” or they take a test and the results change things for Harry and Louis.

sundress in the sky by stretchmybones // @harryslonecurl

Harry and Louis go to their town’s annual festival. Shenanigans ensue.

Sugary Sweet by @neondiamond

Sometimes, all you need is a little sugar to get the day started.

Or Harry and Louis’ daughter knows exactly how to get what she wants, Harry is pregnant, and Louis is the best husband ever.

Caught In Between Love by Kikiberoski16

He kissed Harry’s lips, soft and fleeting. Louis didn’t waste any time and went down, kissing Harry’s neck, chest, abs and lower abdomen. Harry panted quietly, but he was sure he could come right away. He hasn’t been touched for such a long time that any physical contact was now feeling magnified.

“Can I have a kiss too?” Andrew whimpered in the background.

Or Harry had a crush on Andrew, his co-worker, for a few months, but when he meets Louis, the handsome BDSM club owner, everything changes.

Uh Oh It's Magic (When I'm With You) by @kingsofeverything

Everyone Dreams eventually, and everyone's Dream is different, but all Dreams have one thing in common: They send the Dreamer on a Quest to find their Magic.

It's been months since Louis started his Quest to live as a hermit in a cave in the middle of the woods and he’s not about to let some new guy disturb his hermitage.

Late Night Nesting by stretchmybones // @harryslonecurl

“Hurry up. I’m cuddle deprived.”

Louis climbed into bed, careful not to dislodge any part of the nest. Harry didn’t hesitate to cuddle right up to Louis’ bare chest. Harry stuck his nose right into the crook of Louis’ neck, where his bondmark lay. It wasn’t typical for alphas to have bondmarks along with their omegas, but Harry and Louis didn’t care to adhere to every tradition.

Monochrome Hearts by fallinglikethis

Louis Tomlinson is a 27-year-old that just wants to see the world in color after a lifetime of shades of grey. And, oh yeah, having his soulmate by his side would be nice too. Maybe that's even the most important part.

Harry Styles is a 25-year-old who loves hearing soulmate stories, never believing he'll have one of his own, and has never seen anything at all.

Which begs the question; when finding your soulmate brings color to the world, what happens when your soulmate is blind??

never just the heat of the summer by orchidsbyjune

“Hello there my darling, you look beautiful.” And this, this is what Harry lives for.

“You think so?”

“Always.“

- “A story about a bad day, a set of nail polishes, a good lover and whole identity packed in one.”

Close Our Eyes (Pretend We're Miles Away) by @haztobegood

Louis and Harry have been on the run for a day and a half now. It’s a hard situation to be in, and they’ve been trying to cope the best they can since their relaxing girls’ weekend at a rented cabin turned into a living nightmare.

Just forty eight hours ago, Harry never would have robbed a bank. Hell, she barely would have touched the gun she’d used in the robbery, let alone wave it around to threaten anyone. Forty eight hours ago, Louis hadn’t used that same gun to shoot a man.

Take the Middle Path by @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

Harry's desires are plentiful and complicated in a way that's always worried and confused him. Being with Louis and Zayn helps him explore the seemingly disparate aspects of who he is and what he wants, and to realize he doesn't have to choose just one.

can i bite your tongue like my bad habit? by dilfrry

“Did you know that birthday boys get cake?”

Harry smiles a toothy grin, the right side of his mouth curling up into a flash of deviance. “Are you gonna give it to me?” His eyes can’t help but travel down Louis’ body.

“My… cake?” Louis lightly laughs, pointing a finger to his chest, and leans up from his bent-over position on the table.

“Just a taste,” Harry wraps a hand around his almost empty glass of beer, “for the birthday boy?” He lifts it to take the last sip, downing the rest, and eyes Louis as he swallows.

the hooters boy louis fic where its harrys 21st brithday and he gets cake in more ways than one

as if life were invented for my love by daffodilsforlou // @polaroidlouis

He was such a cliché. A MILF thirsting for her pool boy.

this body by finelinegynandromorph

“I guess I’ve pegged myself, though—does that count?”

Nell and Suraiya lean their heads together to confer in exaggerated whispers while Harry tucks one leg behind the other, trying as hard as he can to not vividly imagine hot Louis Tomlinson from work stretched out with a dildo up his ass.

“The information about your self-pleasure is appreciated, but we’re defining pegging as something you receive from someone else,” Suraiya clarifies with an authoritative nod. Harry grins in Louis’ direction and Louis raises his hands in admission. “One day, I’d love to,” he says to a round of encouraging cheers from around the circle.

Harry tries not to choke on his beer when Louis winks at him from across the fire.

or, louis wants to be pegged. harry helps him out

it wouldn't be make-believe by docklands

It's been a few months since Harry left to focus on his career. Louis misses him every day, but especially tonight. Something is burning inside him, and what happens should come as a surprise, but it just fits them like a glove.

Moms just want to... by anonymous

#august reads #monthly reads #im sorry this is late #a combo of me being lazy and then family stuff happened #but it's here #better late than never right #you would think i would already start doing september's but nope not gonna happen lol

13 notes · View notes

mercy-burning · 3 years

Text

Your Favorite — Part 3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: As the summer comes to a close, Spencer and Y/N start feeling a shift in their relationship. Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Adults w/ age gap, thigh riding, exhibitionism, oral sex (male receiving), penetrative/unprotected sex, breeding kink, one line of daddy kink, Word Count: 4.3k exactly, love how that turned out lol

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | MASTERLIST

NOTE: Thank you all for sticking with me through this long wait, I feel so bad for having to keep putting it off. But I’m very proud of where this ended up, and I’m so glad you’ve all been so excited about it! I had so much fun writing this story, so again, thank you very much for reading and indulging me in this weird fantasy lolol ❤ Love you guys! And, as always, thank you to the lovely Em ( @boldlyvoid ) for being my beta for this series! Your feedback and support has been a big help from the start, ILY

———

AUGUST 12th

"I don't wanna hear a single word, understand?"

Not like I have a choice; As soon as the harsh whisper leaves Spencer's mouth, his hand is covering my own and my back is being pressed up against the wall of the storage closet.

But that's all he does. I wait for him to make a move, but instead he insists on being a tease.

"What? You've been trying to get my attention all night, and now that you have it, you're not gonna do anything with it?"

"I want you to do it for me," I mumble into his hand.

He shoves me harder into the wall and slots his knee in between my legs, spreading them apart and making me sigh.

"You wanted it so bad... So take it..."

Watching the amusement dance through his features as I grind down on his leg and whine into his mouth only excites me more, right next to the knowledge that downstairs the house is congested with people visiting to celebrate my mom's new promotion at work.

Needless to say, it doesn't take me very long to start feeling my stomach tense. My hips are wild as they roll over his leg, whines spewing from my mouth and into his hand. I look up into his eyes, doing my best to show him how much I could never grow tired of this, and he returns the favor by lifting his leg higher and giving me more friction.

In no time at all, I'm shuddering against him, feeling his hand press harder into my mouth to muffle the high-pitched whines that I can't help but expel.

"Nice and quick... Good girl..." Spencer muses, slowly peeling himself away from me. "You're really looking forward to being spoiled later, aren't you..."

The grin that spreads over my face is unwavering. "Definitely. Knowing Mom, she'll be passed out cold in like an hour."

I know I'm the one who brought her up, but it still stings a little when Spencer smiles fondly. "Yeah, she's a lightweight alright... You sure you can handle all this time without me until then?"

Despite the butterflies I get when he says it, mischievous and downright delectable, his hands reach out to grab my waist and pull me closer to him, I roll my eyes. "You underestimate me."

He studies my face for a moment, a pretty smile flashing before me in the dim light before he kisses my cheek. "Sure."

And when he leaves, I wait.

Minutes later, my skin still burns from his touch.

———

The moment my eyes open the next morning, it all comes back in flashes.

His lips are on my skin, travelling lower and lower...

His hands trail all over my body, featherlight in a way that leaves me with goosebumps.

His tongue starts slow, taking its time to taste me and savor every precious second.

His voice is like the sweetest prayer, whispering praises that leave my head dizzy and my heart pounding.

His lips languidly open and close around the most sensitive parts of my body, in tandem with that sweet, magnificent tongue as each action pulls sighs from the very depths of my soul.

His hands reach up and tangle with mine as he makes me come on his tongue, over and over again until I'm practically numb and the lull of sleep drags me under.

His hands now ghost over my bare skin, along my sides and down to my waist. I hum happily and push back against him when I feel it.

He's hard.

"How long before you think she wakes up?" he whispers in my ear.

"Not long... Maybe we... shouldn't risk i—"

The words fall off a cliff, never to be seen again when he slowly enters me, gripping my leg and forcing it over his own. "I'll be quick."

I can tell, though, that he doesn't want to be. It's present in the way he enters me, over and over with motions that feel rather stunted and definitely too rushed.

"Baby, no," I whine, reaching behind me to hold his hips still with one hand. "Fuck me slow... Don't rush..."

"But... Your mom..."

"Please..."

Spencer sighs, though not from exasperation. No, his breath is long and teeming with relief, hands gently roaming over the entirety of my body as his hips move slower. He's taking his time, relishing every second and feeling me gradually get more slick at his undoing.

His lips are on my neck, not providing marks to match the ones hidden on the inside of my thighs and my chest, but merely resting there. He kisses me in between gentle thrusts, letting out small whimpers of his own when I clench tightly around him.

This...

This is different.

We've had slow morning sex before, but never like this. Somehow, I find myself drifting, like I'm being carried away by his current. There's nothing but me, Spencer, and our breathing... Our bodies, our air, our souls...

This is what I imagine making love feels like.

Which is why I barely notice when it slips from my mouth— Three words that should feel more daunting due to the weight they hold and the way they ultimately change everything. And yet, whispering “I love you,” in a nearly breathless string of syllables feels incredibly natural. It’s more sincere than anything I think I’ve ever told him, so much so that I don’t even think about what it will mean in the long-run. Instead I let it fall from my lips again and again without regret or consequence.

He doesn't stop, either. Spencer continues to fuck me softly, like it's all he knows how to do. In fact, my confession only seems to make him relax more.

And that's what finally pushes me over the edge.

His name escapes my mouth in a whisper that sounds more like a plea not to leave, and he holds me closer to him. Our bodies are flush together, my back resting perfectly against his chest as he takes a few final thrusts and empties himself inside of me.

If we stayed like that forever, I could die happy.

And actually, that wouldn't be far from the truth, given that if we did stay here forever, my mom would certainly find us and kill us.

The thought makes me sigh.

"You have to leave..."

"I know..."

Spencer pulls me closer, squeezing me tight and giving me a long, bold kiss on the jaw before he rips himself away and takes my heart with him.

AUGUST 18th

Things are significantly different now.

After the morning I let slip that I love him, Spencer and I had been intimate once. We found ourselves alone while Mom was at the grocery store and instinctually came together.

It was quick, and it was fast and rough, and while it obviously felt good, something was off. But I knew it wasn't a physical problem. Like I said, it felt as good as any other time we'd been together, but it just wasn't right.

I hate it.

It hasn't even been a week since then, and I miss him. I miss our dynamic, and I miss the way I used to feel when he touched me.

So I stalk into the office and lean against the doorframe, watching Spencer as he goes through a large pile of paperwork. His hands and his eyes are moving at near light-speed, and the way he concentrates almost makes me feel bad for my intrusion—Honestly, I could have looked at him all damn day.

But there's a bigger plan in mind.

"What'cha up to?"

He looks up and greets me with a smile. "School starts in a few weeks. I'm just trying to get my coursework prepared."

"Oh... You... mind if I keep you company?"

"Not at all."

It's an innocent enough exchange, though I'm hoping I can change that. Mom doesn't get off work for another few hours, so it gives me ample time to do what I have planned.

I walk over and nudge his leg with my knee, and he lets me in. I climb on his lap, and after giving me a brief kiss on the cheek he returns to going through his paperwork.

My face turns and I nestle it into his neck. He hums softly when I kiss the skin under his jaw, once, and then twice, and then over and over in quick succession.

I can feel him smile. "What are you up to, princess?"

Hearing the nickname return in earnest makes me smile. I nip softly at his neck and run my tongue along it. "Mmm, trouble."

"Sounds like you," he mutters through a sultry sigh once I start going lower, kissing the top of his shoulder.

I slide my hands up the front of his chest and gently undo the top button, giving me access to more skin. "You love it when I make trouble..."

"Hmm, I'm not sure about that."

I slide off his lap then, crouching between his legs and looking up at him with a smile. "Really?"

All he does is look down at me, his pupils growing bigger by the second. So I continue my venture, sliding my hands up the insides of his legs until I reach the belt. "So you don't love when I do this?"

Spencer sighs, helping me by lifting his hips a little and letting me slide down layers of fabric until his dick is right in front of me.

I don't waste any time, taking him in my hand and bringing him to my mouth. He's still not entirely hard yet, but I don't mind at all. In fact, I let out a happy sigh just before I press kiss after kiss along the entire length of him. From base to tip, I take my time kissing and licking along the salty skin and giving him my full attention. I pull back and admire him, I smile, I kiss and I lick and I squeeze him with my hand... And when he's finally nice and hard, I take the head of his cock in my mouth and suck gently.

"Y/N..."

I hum around him, sinking further down until he hits the back of my throat, and then I come back up and repeat. It's slow. Maybe torturous even, but really I don't mean it to be.

Thankfully Spencer seems to be happy with my speed and technique; His eyes are on the verge of closing and his chest is heaving slowly, fingers gently caressing the sides of my face as I go down on him.

It's this same slow, steadying pace we'd taken before, and it's exactly what we needed.

I can feel his touch on my face, burning into my skin and marking me for all eternity. Likewise, the thick, throbbing weight of his cock sliding over my tongue and down my throat feels just like home— Like it's right where we're meant to be.

Once again, we fit together perfectly.

This epiphany sets a fire deep in the pits of my stomach, and just like that our spark is back again.

I look up and catch his eye, and he lets me keep it, forcing himself to keep his eyelids open to watch me. My pace remains consistent and slow, and and he brings both of his hands under my chin. The way he holds my face is so gentle, so loving and sensual that I nearly burst with tears at the sentiment alone, and it doesn't take long for him to start letting go.

He stutters my name when he comes, still using the pads of his nimble fingers to caress my throat. I take in and swallow each rope of cum until it's gone, and even then I keep him in my mouth, gently bobbing my head up and down just for the sake of feeling him inside me somehow.

But then he lifts me off of him and his dick falls limp in his lap. I sigh and lean down, kissing it a few times before just resting my head in his lap as he strokes my hair.

"You're right," Spencer says after a few moments.

"About what?"

"I do love when you make trouble."

We laugh, and I lift my head to look up at him.

"I know... It's your favorite."

"That it is, princess."

AUGUST 26th

I wish more than anything that this orientation would just end. My left foot is anxiously tapping the cool white tile of the floor as I wait to be next in line to grab my paperwork and get on my way— To home for what I'm sure will be a long weekend trying to find free minutes to steal with Spencer.

In another life it might have gotten tedious and painful sneaking around for so long, but I found it excited me. Sure, my feelings for Spencer were growing at an exponential rate, but ever since I visited him in our home office, we seemed to be getting back our groove— With an added flair I might add...

Each time we were together was more intense than the last. His hands got more possessive, his kisses got deeper and more passionate, and the way he looked at me?

I could swear I felt him falling just as deep as I was.

The smile it all brought to my face in that moment fell a little short when they called me next in line, and I fell into a joyful step forward to collect my things.

When I get home, though, things aren't as joyful.

The first thing I notice is that Spencer's car isn't in the driveway or even on the street. He's usually here on weekends, so I wonder if he's out for something, or even out with my mom on a lunch date or something.

I try not to think about that thought too much and step inside, hoping to at least enjoy the silence for a little while, lest they really are out together.

I think I'm out of the woods when I hear the television, a laugh track of some kind, but then it turns into the Friends theme blaring through the speakers, and my heart nearly falls into the pit of my stomach.

There's only one reason Mom would be watching Friends. She swears up and down that she hates it, but it always ends up on TV when there's one specific thing she's going through, because "Hearing them complain about their stupid problems make me feel better about my own!"

Her own problem being a breakup.

For a moment I wonder if maybe Spencer had told her about us. Or maybe she found something somehow that would give us away. I make my way slowly through the space until I reach the living room, my brain making up every possible horrendous outcome— Not even to prepare for the blow, because I know that absolutely nothing could prepare me for the wrath of my mother in any situation... I simply can't help myself from feeling guilty and heartbroken as my stomach churns and my heart beats so loud I can barely hear the TV anymore.

When I come into her view, Mom freezes and lets out a large breath of shaky air. The small tub of ice cream in her hands shakes just as much, and I can tell she's trying her hardest not to burst into tears.

I've never seen her this upset before. Normally it's just anger and annoyance, but this time she looks utterly broken.

"M—Mom?" I stutter, even though she probably can't even hear what I'm saying over the TV. I still don't know if she knows about my involvement with Spencer, but I feel like she'd be more angry with me than sad, so I figure it's safe to come closer.

The moment I take a step forward, she sets the ice cream on the floor and opens her arms to me, a choked sob forcing its way out. It almost makes me cry, just seeing her this heartbroken, and in an instant I'm running to her and snuggling into her side as she hugs me.

"What happened?" I will myself to ask, even though I still have no idea what it means for me. Maybe that's selfish, but if he's taking himself out of Mom's life, surely that has to mean he's removing himself from mine as well, right? And if he's just leaving without saying anything... God, that would ruin me, too.

Still, I wait to hear what Mom will say.

"He broke up with me," is all she says, through a long and tired sigh. She mutes the TV and then holds me tighter. I can feel that there's pure sadness controlling her every movement, and it crushes me.

"Why?"

"I don't know, he just... He said he didn't love me, and he wasn't feeling it anymore."

"That's all?"

"Uh huh... It was so sudden, too, like... I thought we were really getting along, and I just... I don't understand how he couldn't feel it... I felt all of it, and he just... He felt nothing. How could he feel nothing?"

I really don't know what to say anymore... It seems to me like Spencer really told her the truth and ended their relationship because he didn't feel anything for her anymore, but... I always knew he had to have felt something... I guess I just didn't realize someone could fall out of it so quickly.

The guilt overwhelms me then, when it dawns on me that I made him fall out of it so fast. I was there, taking up small moments of his time until, eventually, I'd taken up so much of it that it wasn't just his time I was stealing, but also his love. His fire, and his passion... Month by month, day by day, I was draining the love he had for my mom and distilling it to meet my own desires.

And now, here I am, in my mothers arms as she weeps over a man she truly loved, all because he and I were selfish and treasonous.

If Spencer decides he still wants to be with me after this, I really don't know if I could do it. Even after all this time... After all this trouble and guilt and glorious treason...

He could never really be mine.

———

Y/N,

I knew this day would come from the moment I met you. Of course, I didn't know how far my feelings would take me, but in the end I knew I would one day have to leave you and your mother behind.

Day by day my feelings for you grew stronger, and it wasn't until you told me you loved me that August Thirteenth that I realized I loved you, too. What we had was always dangerous, but by then my heart was focused solely on you, and I could feel your mother slipping from my grasp.

I pretended for as long as I could, but now you've taken up so much space in my brain that when Eve pulled me near, I almost sighed out your name instead. I knew then that no longer could I "keep up appearances," as I often like to tell you.

Maybe one day you and I can find our way back to each other, but for now, I think it's for the very best that we go our separate ways.

In my wildest dreams I will think of you fondly, and I can only hope that you might do the same.

Always Yours, Spencer

JUNE 19th, SEVEN YEARS LATER

There are so many things I'm thinking about when I come home tonight.

One: I'm a little tipsy and completely fucked out, which reminds me of that night I came home in the exact same state, only to find my mom's old boyfriend, Spencer, unable to sleep and to stop staring at my bare legs. The memory brings a smile to my face.

Two: My feet fucking hurt and I want to get these goddamned shoes off.

Three: The ghost of Spencer's smile when he saw me for the first time in seven years burns in the back of my mind, right next to the ghost of his hands caressing my skin like it had been the first time.

Four: How am I going to spend the rest of the summer back in town knowing what it feels like to have fucked him at all without an ounce of guilt attached to it?

Five: Am I going to tell my mom that I slept with her ex-boyfriend tonight?

Six: Fuck, I'm hungry...

My heels come off as soon as I step through the door.

The light is on, and I can hear Mom laughing in the kitchen with Adam from far away, which brings a fond smile to my face. I'm glad that she's finally happy, with someone who doesn't make me want to fall to my knees, thank you very much.

And truthfully, if I hadn't ran into Spencer at all tonight, I'm not sure I ever would have thought about that whole situation again— It was fucked up, he ended up leaving both of us, and Mom was so deeply devastated after their breakup that I didn't have the heart to tell her I missed him too. I just buried it deep down and tried to move on right alongside her, eventually erasing his memory from my mind, body, and soul.

Well, almost.

There were days, obviously, where his letter hummed inside my pillowcase where he left it, whether I brought it to college or kept it at home, or it sat soundly in my new apartment. His words were always there, spilling into my dreams and dancing with me through our memories; tangled tongues and limbs, wild nights and passionate mornings...

I'd wake up feeling hot to the touch and missing him completely.

Thankfully those days were few and far in between, and for a while I'd stopped thinking of him altogether.

But of course, it turns out that Spencer Reid is in fact, pretty damn inevitable.

That bar downtown was packed, so it was a wonder I'd even ran into him of all people in the first place. What he was doing there I didn't know. And neither do I now, because from the moment we laid eyes on each other, it was this constant state of shell-shock and fire, nothing else. He asked briefly about Mom, I told him she'd been married for four years, and then he joked about how he was surprised I hadn't tried to steal him from her.

Naturally, with that ever so playful look in his eye practically taunting me, I played to his joke and responded with a sultry smile, "The only one I ever wanted to steal was you, Doctor..."

The rest wasn't exactly a blur, but all I'm going to say is that we spent the rest of our time together at his apartment, "catching up on lost time"... And as much as I'd grown out of the submissive role sexually over the years, I found myself crawling back, submitting to him like I'd done it a million times over. And, really, I might as well have.

It's like we'd never stopped.

That being said, I declined his offer to stay the night and told him to give me a call some time before I left to go back to Seattle. Though, not without giving him a thousand goodbye kisses that were rather counterproductive.

Thinking about it makes my cheeks burn hot, though thankfully it's summer, and Mom won't have to question it. Though, if she does, I suppose I could keep it short and sweet and tell her the truth at the very least: that I met up with an old friend who showed me a good time.

"Hey'a, Sweetpea," she greets with a bright wave. She and Adam are obviously a little tipsy, more than me by the looks of it, but I pay it no mind. "How was you're night?"

"Great! Went to a few bars downtown, met up with some friends..."

"Oh, good, well we're glad you got back safe."

I snag a bottle of water and an apple from the fridge, then turn back around to see Mom and Adam snuggled in, sharing a smile that would make even the happiest person on the planet sick to their stomach.

Oddly enough, it reminds me of back then, when she was with Spencer, happier than ever and completely oblivious to what was going on in her daughter's life.

The thought makes my stomach flutter, taking me back to earlier in the night when he had his hands tangled in my hair and his mouth attached to my skin, spewing filthy words and praises that had me begging for more...

"I missed you, princess," he whispers, holding himself deep inside me. His fingers brush the matted hair from my face, revealing more of my saccharine smile and eyes that swim with mischief.

"I missed you too," I whine, reaching out and grabbing handfuls of his ass, shoving him even farther inside me and wrapping my legs around him tighter. "...Daddy..."

Spencer loses all semblance of cool, pulling back and slamming into me with full force. I—

"Y/N?"

I blink away his memory, reminding myself of where I am and what I'm doing, finding Mom looking at me with a curious gleam in her eye.

"What are you thinking about?"

With a small smile, I nod in her direction. "Oh, uh... You'll never believe who I ran into tonight."

———

PERMANENT TAGLIST (tags not working are struck out): @elldell1204 @muffin-cup @calm-and-doctor @slutforthegubes @rainsong01 @yourmisosoup @liveloudwriteloud @reidsconverse @la-vie-en-amour1 @edgycowboy666 @averyhotchner @centiaaa @lizziechaseee @coffeeandendlesswords @usuck @spenxerslut @ssacalumsg0lden @emilyprentisslittlewhore @takeyourleap-of-faith @reidyoulikeabook @spencerreid9 @b-a-utiful @jareauswifey @flipperpenguins @pansexualthing @donald4spiderman @awesomebooklover17 @shemarmooresfedora @izraahh1 @bakugouswh0r3 @singularityjc @xoxospencerreid @thatsonezesty13 @big-galaxy-chaos @mggskneescrews @youabitchhhh @spencersjello @moonlight-2-6 @starrylang @foreveryoungxx3 @spencerreidscoffeecup @morganwilliams @emilyprsntiss @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @gubswh0re @mrsobrien888 @loveeee2134 @umbreonwolfy @ayla-1605

If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, feel free to message me or leave a comment and I’ll get on it right away!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut

491 notes · View notes

writertitan · 3 years

Text

As the World Caves In

pairing: levi x reader

word count: 3449

themes: levi’s pov, certified levi angst, lots of pining, levi just needs a hug tbh, song fic request that i think fits the vibe of the song

requested by anon

War.

All Levi can see is war. Everywhere, every second, every hour. It was all he had ever seen, from the moment he’d been born. He had long accepted that war was as inevitable as breathing. With that acceptance had also come the knowledge that that was all he would ever see. Only the gore, the death, the filth of war.

His feet ache as he trudges down the street alongside his horse, the reins loosely gripped in one hand as he keeps his head down, too tired to face the curious gazes of civilians. The evening rain splatters relentlessly atop his head and dribbles down his cheeks and soaks into his sullied uniform; the rain has always bothered him, but it is especially bothersome today.

He is here to fight for the beauty of humanity, but it isn’t a beauty he would ever get the chance to see for himself. That beauty was for those who came after him. He would suffer for them, he’d face the ugliness for them, if it meant that nobody would ever have to go through the horrors of fighting for humanity again. He would take it. He could take it.

A glance towards Hange tells him all he needs to know. The squad leader’s shoulders are hunched forward and Levi purses his lips, knowing they’d injured their back hours before, a result of so much heavy lifting. The wagon full of corpses and dead weight is much farther behind them, but the creaking of wheels seems deafening. Today, it feels like the world is ending.

Gore, and death, and filth. That’s all war is. All that war is, is the end of the world, every day.

With a sigh, Levi lifts his head up to stare straight ahead, expression as steely as ever.

He is here to fight for something that isn’t his. No need to get caught up in his thoughts about it.

War.

War was his life’s purpose. It was all he’d ever get to see. He’d have to see the end of the world every single day. There is no beauty in war.

-----

Fifteen minutes later, the first handful of scouts have started wandering off, Levi’s gaze wandering with them. Some of them go to greet family members. Others slump together in alleyways to take a break. And then there are others that have stepped into a tavern, a couple of them beckoning for Hange to come along. Members of their squad.

Before Levi’s gaze could turn away, Hange, always perceptive, meets his eyes.

“Want to come grab a drink?” they ask him.

Levi feels his jaw clench tight at the thought. He shakes his head.

“No,” he answers simply.

But it’s too late.

Hange grabs a hold of him and calls for a scout to come help with Levi’s horse. A designated horse-sitter, it seems, who does it solely for the promise of the steady flow of booze to be delivered to him outside.

“I just want to get back to base, Hange,” Levi protests, but his voice is dull and lifeless. There’s no venom to his fight.

“One drink, and it’ll be nice to get out of the rain,” Hange insists. They’re trying so hard to be upbeat, to have life in their eyes. Levi knows Hange well enough to see past the facade. There’s no signs of joy past the surface.

Hange wants to be numb tonight and have a warm body nearby. It’s the least Levi can do.

As dirty as he thinks taverns are, Levi feels much dirtier when he steps in, spattered with mud and blood and whatever other filth. He’s still drenched from the rain. It hasn’t let up and he doubts it will cease at all until tomorrow morning. He can hear it thundering on the roof of the tavern, like a furious heartbeat.

His boots squeak as he follows his comrades to a table; it’s not lost on him that the tavern has grown completely silent the moment they arrived.

He tries to ignore it but Levi’s prone to returning a few curious or frightened stares with some mean glares.

He does just that as he walks behind Hange, and it seems to work. But there’s one stare coming from somewhere in the tavern, he can feel it, but he can’t find the eyes. Everyone else has taken the hint and ducked their heads away. Almost everyone.

When he finally finds the pair of eyes on him, a crack of thunder booms outside and Levi swears that it stops time for a moment. Can thunder do that?

You clearly work here at the tavern, hair tugged out of the way and apron stained with ale. Eyes as big as the moon when they widen at the realization that he’s caught you staring. But you’re not staring in fear or curiosity or annoyance. Your eyes only hold kindness.

Levi doesn’t realize he’s frozen in place until you turn your head away from him and hurry off. It’s only until your gaze is torn away that he remembers he can move. And then he hears Hange calling for him from the table they’d settled on, a spot waiting for him.

He feels heavier and lighter simultaneously as he sits down and tries to focus on the meaningless mutterings between the scouts after shedding his cloak and jacket. Not even Hange is contributing to the chatter.

It’s not long until he feels someone behind him and Levi stiffens, the fresh memory of your face popping into his head. Slowly, he turns his head to look.

It’s you.

You’re expertly balancing a tray on your shoulder as you set down pints of ale in front of his comrades, not a word leaving your mouth. You can read the room perfectly. Levi can’t even bring himself to be angry that you didn’t come to ask about their drink preferences first. He’s willing to drink ale tonight.

But he’s surprised when, instead of a pint, you set down a mug of steaming tea in front of him.

“I’ve heard that you prefer tea, sir,” you murmur, and he can sense that you’re timid about what you’ve just said. Then you add, “But let me know if you’d like something else to drink.”

Levi is at a loss for words and he can’t pinpoint the feeling in his chest. He just nods curtly, staring up at you, holding your gaze, watching the way you get more and more flustered. Finally, he looks away, down at his tea, and brings both hands to wrap around the warm mug.

“Thank you,” he says, and slowly turns to watch you walk away from over his shoulder.

Is the tea thing really a topic of conversation everywhere?

He takes a sip and, while it’s an average cup of tea by his usual standards, Levi swears no other cup of tea has warmed him up faster in his whole life.

-----

The next time he’s at the tavern, it’s the night before departing to go beyond the wall. The soldiers are already some bottles deep in drink, swallowing their grief down along with the ale. It’s raining again, harder than the first night he’d come here. And Levi’s eyes have searched for glimpses of you since he arrived.

You always seem to escape his view. There are only fleeting glimpses as you saunter around, cleaning up and serving, and then disappearing to the back of the tavern where only the employees are allowed. You’re not the one to serve his table this time. But the fact that he was served a cup of tea tells him that you’re aware he’s there.

Levi doesn’t notice that when he can’t see you, you can see him. Thus, your gazes never cross paths.

He finally gets a good view of you when you come out wearing a cloak and a tired smile and tired eyes, and agree to help a barmaid serve a table of men a few meters away from his table, before you leave. You look uncomfortable as you serve them. They’re rowdy. One of them grabs the sleeve of your cloak and tugs hard. Levi hears the ripping of seams and then an uproar of drunk laughter from the table. And those eyes of yours fill with tears as you try to pull away to no avail.

Levi doesn’t realize he’s at the table until his hand is fisted into the man’s hair and yanking it so the drunkard can look at him.

“Keep your filthy hands to yourself,” he says in a low voice. He’s as calm as ever, but there is a dark undertone to his words that has the man and all his friends shutting up and shrinking back.

It disgusts him that these men would make you experience something like that.

When his eyes find yours, you’re looking at him in wonder, tears still lingering at your lash line.

“Thank you,” you breathe.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he mutters, and his only coherent thought at that moment is that his heart is pounding against his chest like the rain is pounding against the roof. Furious heartbeats.

The terrors of the world dawn on him full force when you clutch your cloak tighter around you and look towards the door. Levi knows war, and he knows terror, and he knows evil. He’s never thought about the fact that out there, you’re just as prone to the end of the world as anyone else. This tavern, this dingy little tavern, has been an escape for him.

It terrifies Levi to think that you’re out there on your own.

“Are you going home?” he asks you, and when you nod hesitantly, he makes up his mind. “I’m walking you home.”

“Oh, you don’t have to-” you begin, but Levi shakes his head.

“I want to,” he interjects. “It’s late and I’d like to know you’re safe. You seem like the type that finds trouble easily.”

“I seem like the type?” you echo, a corner of your mouth twitching up briefly. A hint of a smile.

Levi mentally curses himself but doesn’t elaborate further.

“Yep,” he confirms.

How can he tell you that he thinks that about you, not because of those men, but because you’d caught his attention? You’re doomed if you’re around Levi. Anyone and everyone is.

But he just can’t help himself.

“Okay. Thank you,” you whisper with a shy little smile, your eyes twinkling in the dim light of the tavern.

Levi clears his throat awkwardly and follows you out, ignoring the questions from his comrades, and definitely ignoring the little whoops from the ones who are too stupidly drunk to behave.

The rain is pouring from the sky and Levi grimaces, always bothered by the rain, and pulls the hood of his cloak over his head. He turns to you as you do the same, and only in that motion does he see how badly that drunkard has ruined your cloak. Your head may be protected from the rain, but your body is getting drenched.

He doesn’t give it a second thought before pulling off his cloak and shoving it your way with a grunt, the rain instantly drenching him.

You look at him in surprise, eyes as big as the moon again when they widen, and shake your head swiftly to refuse.

“Your cloak is useless. Use mine,” he tells you before you can verbally decline. “I’ll be fine. I’ve dealt with a lot worse things than getting wet.”

You reluctantly switch your cloak for his and Levi folds your ruined one over his arm so you don’t have to carry it. And then you start walking together, falling in step with each other easily. The streetlamps illuminate the wet pavement as the two of you walk together.

“Captain Levi, you really didn’t need to walk me home,” you say after a few beats of silence. The only other sound is the pattering of rain.

He turns to look at you briefly, because he just can’t stop looking at you, and for a moment he feels a dark pang in his chest when he looks you over while wearing his cloak. The green looks lovely on you, and while his heart flutters at the image of you wearing something of his, it also sinks at even the thought of you being a scout.

Levi would never want you to own a green cloak of your own. He would never want to expose you to war.

There is no beauty in war.

And you are very beautiful.

His head spins for a moment.

It’s the first time Levi has ever thought that about anything or anyone.

He has never had the luxury of seeing something beautiful before. He sees death and he sees war and he sees terrors beyond the walls. Levi has seen nothing but the cruelties of a dying humanity.

And now here you are, so beautiful, the person who gives him tea and stares at him with wide, kind eyes.

“It would just make me feel better to know you’re safe,” he says when he realizes he hasn’t said anything back yet.

You give him a shy smile, and then Levi replays your words in his mind and frowns to himself.

“And you can just call me Levi. Not Captain Levi,” he adds.

When you say your name, Levi realizes you’ve never been properly introduced. He didn’t even know your name, and you’ve got him acting this way.

Like everything else about you, your name is beautiful to him.

“Don’t you just love the rain?” you sigh, stretching a hand out from the cloak to catch raindrops on your palm.

“I hate it, actually,” Levi responds.

He cringes at how blunt he sounds, but when you actually laugh, he softens and looks at you from the corner of his eye.

“Why do you love the rain?” he asks.

“Because it makes everything look beautiful,” you answer easily, turning to him to give him a smile. “I think rainy days are magical.”

Levi takes a look around, and he doesn’t see what you see. Everything just looks wet.

But when he looks at you, he sees the way that the raindrops catch onto a few stray strands of hair peeking out from under the hood of the cloak you wear, and he sees the way the air puffs out of your mouth from the chilly temperature, and he sees the way your eyes glimmer in the faint light of the streetlamps, and he thinks that’s beautiful.

It turns out you don’t live that far. The short walk makes Levi frown in disappointment, but when you reach out and gently touch his arm to get his attention, he feels a rush of heat flow through him. And something else, another feeling that he still can’t quite pinpoint.

“Come inside for a bit to dry off. I have tea,” you tell him.

And how can he refuse that?

He helps you start a fire in your little home and he lets you make the tea however you want instead of giving his usual instructions. When you give him a quilt to wrap up in after hanging up the cloaks and stepping out of soggy shoes, Levi is almost in disbelief at the comfort he feels as your hands playfully toss the fabric around his shoulders. The comfort almost makes him uncomfortable.

He only knows war. He doesn’t know this...new feeling. What is it? It feels like it’s at the tip of his tongue.

When he looks out the window, he knows better than anyone that there’s a war going on. He’ll be riding out to meet it face to face tomorrow morning.

But when you sit down next to him in front of the fire and hand him his tea, a quilt draped around your shoulders too, the both of you fall into a lovely silence and Levi can actually forget about it all. In your little home, it does not feel like the end of the world.

For the first time in his life, he is experiencing something beautiful.

-----

Levi’s feet ache as he trudges down the street.

A scout has agreed to take his horse back to base at Levi’s request. Though he usually wants to get back to base as soon as possible, today is different.

Two days outside of the walls and all Levi wants is to see something beautiful. He can hear the creaking wheels of the wagon carrying the dead, far behind him, but haunting him.

He feels heavy.

And he’s back to feeling like it’s the end of the world, and the world is on his shoulders.

He doesn’t want you to see him like this, deep down. Right now, he looks a mess, and he feels a mess. He’s not beautiful, and you don’t deserve to look at the result of war. And Levi is the result of war. He’s scarred, physically and mentally, and he looks like he’s seen nothing but doom. In truth, he has.

But none of that stops him from trekking to your little home, the evening light slowly turning to dusk as he approaches your street.

He’s basically operating on instinct, horrors flashing through his mind as he knocks on your door. There was so much death, again. There was so much fear and so much terror, again. It’s the end of the world.

The things thrumming through his mind stop as soon as your door opens as he’s greeted with the sight of your wide, surprised eyes.

“You’re back,” is all you say, and Levi swallows thickly and nods.

You can see the remnants of war in Levi’s eyes and he can tell, and he feels ashamed to make you witness that. But his shame ebbs when you step aside to silently welcome him inside your home, eyes as kind as ever.

“Would you like some tea, Levi?” you ask him, voice just above a whisper.

He steps inside and everything is as he remembers it from two nights ago. There’s a fire crackling and a few quilts tossed over chairs. He spots the one you’d let him borrow and wants nothing more than to have you wrap it around him again.

That indecipherable feeling comes back again as soon as the door closes behind him. The one he can’t quite place yet. When he looks at you, he feels it stronger than ever and makes his gaze soften.

“I’d love some tea,” he murmurs.

Levi stiffens when you move toward him rather than to your kitchen. He’s frozen in place, doesn’t know what to do when you’re inches away from him. Your eyes search his face before your hand comes up to gently caress him from temple to jaw, just once, and then your palm settles nicely on his cheek.

“I’ll make us some tea, then,” you tell him with that gentle smile of yours, and then pull away from him to go to the kitchen.

He stands there for a few moments longer before settling into the chair he’d sat in before, quilt wrapped around him as he stares into the fire.

The smell of tea wafts to him and Levi turns to watch you prepare it.

Beautiful.

That unknown feeling is coursing through him now, and Levi has come to the conclusion on what it is, but doesn’t want to believe it.

Because a man like Levi doesn’t know anything about this feeling.

What does a man like Levi know about peace?

He looks out the window and understands that the world is ending if he doesn’t do anything to stop it. There is war out there and he has to fight.

But when he looks at you, it doesn’t matter.

He’s been fighting for something that isn’t his. Maybe that can change. He can let himself have this. He can let himself know peace, after an entire life of fighting. Levi would like to fight for you. He’d like to fight knowing that it’s to make sure you never have to see what he sees.

Even if the world is ending, it’s okay right now. He’s okay with it as long as he can stay here with you and protect you from it.

When you give him his tea and sit next to him, you don’t bother to press him to talk about it. Levi appreciates that. When you cup his cheek again like you’d done earlier, he’s glad you don’t say anything when he leans into your touch. He doesn’t want words right now.

He just wants to revel in the feeling you’ve brought him.

Peace.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi one shot #levi ackerman oneshot #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman fic #levi fanfiction #levi fic #levi ackerman #levi #aot fanfiction #aot oneshots #aot #snk fanfiction #snk #attack on titan fanfiction

605 notes · View notes

cower-before-power · 3 years

Text

Slippery When Wet: Part 2

Summary: An untimely accident in the shower leaves you injured and in need of rescue. Lucky for you, the object of your affections is more than willing to help.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x F!Reader

TW: swearing, nudity, implied sexual content, description of injury (nothing graphic), unintentional voyeurism? (idk i mean like voyeurism in the name of helping i’m not sure how to say it ha), lots of dick talk, prolly really bad sex jokes

Link to A03 here

PART 1 HERE

A/N: First of all, THANK YOU EVERYONE WHO READ, LIKED, REBLOGGED AND COMMENTED ON PART 1. You are all amazing, I am so glad you are enjoying this silly little venture Gojo has dragged me on. Again, thank you so much to @ghost-party for her beta skills, you da best! I hope Part 2 makes you all happy :) please enjoy, sweet potatoes!

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

You shouldn’t look. Not because you don’t want to, but if you do you’ll know what is absolutely not warming your bed at night and then you’ll probably just feel worse. But, you were overwhelmingly curious. Just a quick look couldn’t hurt.

Right?

You peek through your fingers, just at his upper half. The sight makes you curse softly under your breath. Of course he’s absolutely beautiful out of clothes, did you really expect anything less?

“If you’re uncomfortable, I’ll get dressed,” he says, “just thought this would help you out.”

Help you out? Good grief this is going to be the star of your late night fantasies for months. Because instead of dreaming it up, you now have the real thing to recall.

“No,” you take a deep breath and drop your hands. “I’m fine.”

Are you though? He’s built to perfection, checking off all the boxes on your “Things I find physically attractive” checklist. You marvel at this long column of his throat, sweeping down into a set of collarbones that would make models die of envy. His chest is hairless (did he wax or was it just naturally that way?), miles of smooth skin and muscle that your fingers were just itching to trace.

Your eyes trail down past his stomach, briefly cataloging the very nice set of abs, before settling on what you were the most curious about.

The snort of laughter escapes your lips before you can stop it.

“Excuse me, did you just look at my dick and laugh?” He asks accusingly, crossing his arms.

“I’m sorry,” you giggle at the disgruntled expression on his face. “It’s just, I’ve always wondered if the carpet matched the drapes since I assumed you dye your hair. Guess I was wrong.”

For the first time since you’ve known him, Gojo Satoru visibly deflates.

“That’s what you’ve thought about?” His voice is full of frustrated disbelief. “My pubic hair?”

You can’t stop giggling. “You can’t blame a girl for being curious! Are you sure you shouldn’t get rid of it though? Doesn’t the white make people think they’re boning an old man?”

“The utter disrespect,” he gasps, shaking his head. “I can assure you that is the last thing on their minds when I’m working my magic.”

You wonder why you aren’t feeling more flustered. The fun and teasing atmosphere feels almost refreshing after the intense back and forth that was just occurring.

“What, you casting spells for dry weather?”

“Oh, you are evil!” He moans, then looks down at himself. “Don’t listen to her, big guy. You know what you can do.”

“For fuck’s sake, don’t talk to it,” you roll your eyes, trying not to grin. “And don’t oversell the merchandise. It’s average, at best.”

(It isn’t. It’s probably the nicest looking one you’ve ever seen. But him and his astronomical ego do not need to know that)

Gojo grabs his chest as if you’ve physically wounded him. “Ouch! Shots fired, target annihilated!”

“You’re such a drama queen,” you sigh. You wonder if he notices the quiet fondness in your voice.

He opens his mouth as if to retaliate, but then suddenly shuts it. A look comes over his face as if he’s just remembered something very interesting and important.

“Hey,” he says, and you watch his mouth spread into a smile. “You said you’d wondered if the carpet matched the drapes. That means you definitely imagined me naked at least once.”

And your blush is back.

“What of it?” You huff, cross your arms and looking away. “It’s only natural. I’ve thought of lots of people naked.”

“Do you ever imagine sleeping with me?”

The question causes you to choke on your breath.

“What-why would you ask that?”

“Inquiring minds want to know.”

You take a look at him, standing naked and unashamed in front of you. His smile is different; there’s a sultry edge to it you’ve never seen before.

“Maybe inquiring minds should stuff it,” you stick out your tongue. Immature, but he’s got you feeling all funny now.

“Well, I’ve thought about it,” he says. “I’ve thought about it quite a lot, actually.”

Your heart misses a beat in your chest.

“You have?” Your voice squeaks as you force the words out.

“Why do you sound so surprised?” He asks, tilting his head like a curious puppy.

You consider the question. You’ve got insecurities, but you know you are a decent looking person. And despite his flightiness about many things, Gojo has actually never given you the impression that he’s shallow in that way.

“I don’t know,” you say truthfully. “I guess I just never considered the possibility that you were interested in me in that way.”

He sighs. “Pumpkin, I’m not blind. You are stupidly attractive. Every time we’re out in Tokyo you’ve got a million guys and gals staring at you.”

“I just always assumed they were staring at your and your stupid blindfold,” you scrub at your cheeks with your palms, trying to rid yourself of some of the perplexing confusion you feel swirling inside you. “How come you’ve never made a move?”

“Would you have wanted me to?”

You want to shout at him, to say of course yes a thousand times yes, but you pause. You realize you’ve never given him any signals, any hint that he was more than just your often annoying friend. Sure, you blushed at his silly flirting, but so did lots of people.

You shift back through your interactions, all the missions, the late night hang outs, the strolls through the city. Nowhere can you find any instant where your ever expanding feelings might have risen to the surface. But still, would your seeming indifference deter him? He was a very self assured man, after all.

“You have confidence coming out your ass, it’s hard to believe you wouldn’t make a move anyways, just to see,” you say instead.

His whole demeanor softens. “I didn’t want to fuck anything up.”

Oh.

OH.

And you know exactly what he means. It’s why you’ve never said anything, why you forced your desires deep down into the pit of your being when in his presence.

It seems even the strongest shaman could be afraid of something.

“It’s not just about fucking, is it?” You ask, feeling your whole body start to tremble.

“It was never just about fucking,” he replies, and it’s like the universe explodes before your very eyes. “Why do you think I spend all my free time with you?”

“To annoy me?” You croak feebly. “To eat all my snacks? To enjoy torturing me by spoiling the end to every movie we watch?”

He chuckles. “Just side bonuses. Being with you is the real prize, pumpkin.”

“Oh,” you whisper, and your brain whirs like an overworked laptop. You’re having trouble processing that this is actually happening, that the man you’ve been pining after for what feels like forever is really standing there, confessing his own feelings.

Buck ass naked.

“You’ve got two options right now,” Gojo takes a step closer to you, and you shiver at the dominant aura that suddenly swirls around him. “Either I get dressed and we put today behind us, or I come over there and kiss you until you can’t remember your own name. Make your choice.”

Was there even a choice? There was only one option. A slow, warm feeling blooms in the middle of your chest and spreads outwards, dousing your whole shaking body in molten yearning. It’s not a new feeling, but the sensations are different. Because now you can give in to it.

“Kiss me,” you blurt out, breathless and giddy. “Get the fuck over here and kiss me.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

A flash of a savage grin, the soft thump of footsteps and then you are numb to everything but him.

He tastes like sugary coffee and chapstick, lips hard and hot against yours as he kisses you like he’ll die if he stops. He’s everywhere at once, in all your senses, drowning you in his onslaught of desirous fervour. It’s not a timid kiss of new sweethearts; it’s a passionate embrace of long overdue lovers.

Your hands run over every inch of him they can reach, mapping the ridges and valleys of his exposed skin. His own slip beneath your shirt to spread across your back, crushing you to him with a grip of iron. It’s not enough; you want them everywhere, you want him everywhere, until he’s branded onto your body. Until you no longer know where you end and he begins. Until he’s sunken himself into your very bones.

You need to breathe- you pull away with a gasp, one gossamer thread of saliva lazily trailing after you.

“Why didn’t we do that sooner?” You pant, digging your nails into his arms. He’s unwilling to keep his mouth off you, now pressing scalding kisses along your jaw.

“Blame it on mutual stupidity,” he sighs into your skin, teeth slightly grazing the spot just below your ear. “Let’s make up for lost time, eh?”

“I’m game,” you say, a soft whine leaving your lips as he works steadily on what is sure to become a bruise.

“Good,” he murmurs, swiping his tongue across the blossoming mark before leaning back to smirk at you. “Have to make you take back all your snarky comments about me and my game.”

You giggle. “Oh, so you’re saying it won’t be as dry as a desert ‘round here?”

“Well let me just check tonight’s weather report,” he laughs, grinning cheekily as he slips a hand down between your legs, brushing gently over the front of your underwear. You bite your lip, grip on his biceps tightening.

“Ladies and gentleman, we’re in for a wet night,” he says in what you assume is his best weatherman voice. “Expect a great deal of precipitation, more so than what’s already accumulated. Perhaps we’ll even see some flooding. We’re talking possibly record setting levels here.”

You snort with laughter, pushing at him slightly. “You are such an idiot. Just shut up and put your money where your mouth is.”

“Oh, I intend to put my mouth in a lot of different places,” he removes his hand, snapping the elastic band of your underwear against your hip as he goes. “I know I just got you into these, but shall I undress you now?”

“Yes please,” you nod eagerly, already wiggling out of your shirt. He quickly helps remove the offending garment, but in all the lust and excitement you’ve forgotten about your shoulder, and you moan in pain when you jostle it.

“Owwwwwwie, stupid shoulder!”

“Shhh, pumpkin,” Gojo coos gently, leaning down to pepper the area with kisses. “It’s okay, I’m here. I’m going to take such good care of you.”

You feel yourself melt at the sudden tender display, and you can’t help but run your fingers through his luscious hair as he continues to smother your bruised shoulder in affection. “You already are, Satoru.”

The first name slips out unexpectedly, but you like the way it rolls off your tongue. He seems to as well, judging by the pleased noise that rumbles from his chest.

“Well, allow me to continue then,” he purrs, and his lips leave your shoulder to capture yours in another toe curling kiss. You press yourself to him, the feel of his bare skin against yours sending a thrill shooting down your spine.

An idea suddenly pops into your head.

“I never got to finish my shower,” you break your kiss to speak, looking up at him under your lashes.

He catches on immediately, his smile once again turning primal. It makes your knees weak and your gut clench in anticipation.

“Maybe you should help me, since I’m injured and all,” you push yourself even closer to him, shivering at the feeling of his not-so-average excitement pressing against your belly.

“Hmmmm, I could do that,” he’s already got his fingers hooked in your underwear, slowly starting to push them down your hips. “But what if you slip again?”

“Well, you’ll just have to catch me then,” you wink at him. “With your dick.”

He roars with laughter, and your heart has never been more full.

“Oh, I’ll do more than just catch you, pumpkin,” he growls playfully, and before you can blink he’s rid you of your bottoms and swept you up into his arms. “I’m going to absolutely wreck you.”

You reach up to kiss him as he pounds towards the bathroom, your blood on fire and only one thought in your head.

Bless that stupid, slippery, wonderful bar of soap.

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

Taglist: @satorudicks @sara-nyaa @dixonsbugaboo @fandomtrash100 @oikusa-snow @okemis @kuxredere @mylittleteddybear @the-fandoms-georgie @inaflashimagine @crapimahuman @elenapri0502 @fragments-of-aria @bollywoodghoul @wrdro @kiasnotforever @disregardedbymybias @lavihs @euniartsu @satjsstuff @lycorizzz @fushigurosimp @levisbrat1 @bxstboy-tetsu @one-leaf-grimoire @glxar (sorry i just tagged everyone who asked and commented haha, bold means I couldn’t tag you sorry!)

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagine #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine #gojo satoru fic #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #jjk gojo satoru #jjk anime #my writing

1K notes · View notes

bluejayblueskies · 3 years

Note

for the kiss prompts: how about 22 for jonmartin!

22 - sad kiss

i’ve already done a pre-unknowing jmart fic, but i will never have enough of the idea that they tell each other how they feel before jon leaves, so here we are. takes place right before jon leaves for Great Yarmouth

cw for mentions of jon’s circus kidnapping (including mentions of skinning, non-consensual touching, and being tied up) and mentions of canon-typical worms

Jon’s leg bounces up and down, drumming out a staccato rhythm on the stone floor beneath his desk. His hands shake, ever so slightly.

He looks at his phone, the LED display harsh and grating on his eyes, before locking it again.

One hour.

He waits a few seconds before reflexively checking his phone again, like the time’s somehow changed between then and now and he’ll have missed the bus that will take him to the train that will take him to—

Jon sets his phone down hard on the desk, screen facing down.

He doesn’t want to go. It’s a childish thought—one he tries hard to suppress—but here, alone and waiting and resisting the urge to check his phone again, he can’t quite push it away.

I don’t want to go back.

He remembers the bite of rope against his wrists, turning his fingers numb and leaving him with angry red welts that, even now, haven’t healed quite right. They’d dug into the tender skin of his right hand, covered in fresh burn tissue, and he’d tried to ignore the pain, focusing instead on the sweltering heat that stuck his shirt to his chest and the headache that never quite seemed to go away.

He hadn’t been able to ignore it when hard, unyielding hands had undone the ropes and held him tight and dug pointy, plastic fingers coated with oily lotion into the skin of his palm. He’d cried the first few times, out of pain more than anything. Then, he’d almost grown numb to it. Which he’s pretty sure is worse.

He doesn’t know what he’ll do when he’s inside the museum again. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to look at it without remembering placidly smiling faces and crooning voices and promises that he wouldn’t miss his skin, not really. That he’d have the perfect voice to sing as the world changed. That he didn’t deserve skin that he’d taken care of so poorly, so irresponsibly.

He’d hated the sensation of lotion on his hands, even before. Now, the thought of it makes him ill. He tries not to think about it.

He can’t stop thinking about it.

His knee bounces quicker and his fingers drum in time with it on the desk. He resists for a moment more before picking up his phone and checking the time.

Fifty-eight minutes.

The clock has reached the forty-minute mark when there’s a soft knock on his door, one that startles him more than he’d care to admit. “Jon?” a voice calls, and Jon feels relief and anxiety overcome him in equal measure. “Are… are you there?”

It takes him a few seconds to get his voice to work. “Yes, I… you can come in.”

After a moment, the door creaks open—I should oil the hinges, he thinks absently—and Martin steps through the doorway, lingering on the threshold for a moment before moving past it and shutting the door behind him. For a moment, they’re both silent; Jon thinks it should feel oppressive, what with… everything, but it doesn’t. It feels almost comfortable, like a hand on the small of his back and a warm cup of tea pressed into his hands and a takeout container of Paneer Shahi Korma on the corner of his desk. Then, haltingly, Martin says, “I… I guess I just wanted to say good luck? For- for what it’s worth.”

Jon doesn’t feel particularly lucky. Still, he gives Martin a tired smile and says, “Thank you, I suppose. Er… you as well? Your plan requires significantly more… strategy.”

Martin laughs, an uncomfortable noise. “Yeah, well. No more so than trying to blow up an eldritch circus during their attempt to end the world, so…”

He trails off, and Jon shifts in his chair. He notes, distantly, that his leg has stopped bouncing, though his fingers still tap tap tap against the desk. “Yes, I- I suppose so.”

Martin’s face twists, his lips parting like he’s about to speak. Then, he seems to think better of it and gives Jon a forced smile. “Well, I- I guess I’ll leave you to- to pack or what have you. Don’t want to make you miss your train, after all, that- that would be quite bad, wouldn’t it?”

Martin takes a step backwards towards the door, and Jon is seized by the sudden, intense thought of no, don’t go.

“No, you- you don’t have to…” Jon’s leg bounces again a few times, and he hesitates only a moment before saying, “Could you stay? I- I don’t particularly… I don’t want to be alone right now.”

It’s vulnerable, the words sticky on his tongue but easier to say than he’d thought they would be. And it’s worth it when Martin’s face relaxes into relief and he says, “Yeah, of- of course. I… I don’t want to be alone either, I suppose.”

He settles in the chair on the other side of Jon’s desk, and Jon’s reminded, ridiculously, of the time Martin had stumbled into his office, slamming a hastily taped-over tin can onto Jon’s desk.

Fresh Peaches, the can had proclaimed cheerily. The things that writhed and squirmed inside were distinctly not peaches.

They make their way through halting conversation for a few minutes before it settles into something easier. Martin talks about the dog he’d seen on his commute the other day and the old lady who lives in the flat next to him who likes to bake him cookies and the plants he’s starting to grow on his kitchen windowsill. Jon talks about America—the parts that weren’t laced with terror—and the newest book he’s somehow found time to read and the stray cat he’s seen near his building a few times, now that he’s not staying with Georgie anymore.

It’s only until Jon thinks to check his phone again that he realizes he has fifteen minutes left. At ten, he’ll have to make the short walk to the bus stop with the bag he’s checked over five times to ensure that he hasn’t forgotten anything and endure Tim’s tense hostility, Basira’s quiet indifference, and Daisy’s sharp eyes and sharper teeth for several hours.

I don’t want to go.

I don’t want to leave.

I don’t want to leave him.

“Jon?” Martin says, forehead creased in concern. “What’s wrong?” He worries his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment before saying, quietly, “Is… is it time?”

Jon nods mutely. His knuckles are white where he’s gripping his phone, and all he can think is I don’t have enough time.

He doesn’t know when, exactly, he started noticing the way Martin’s cheeks dimple when he smiles and the way his jumpers bunch up around his wrists and the way his voice softens whenever he talks about the people he cares about. He doesn’t know when he started thinking about Martin when he wakes up and on his morning commute and while brushing his teeth and every moment in between. He doesn’t know when the thought of Martin smiling at him or bringing him lunch or brushing his hand against Jon’s arm first made his stomach flip and his mouth go dry.

He doesn’t know when, exactly, he realized that he’s a little bit in love with Martin Blackwood. He thinks it might have been around thirty-two minutes, when Martin had laughed at one of Jon’s awkward jokes and he’d tucked the sound away forever in the section of his mind labeled Martin Blackwood and thought, I want to kiss him.

“Jon?” Martin repeats, and Jon realizes he’s been quiet for quite some time. Martin is looking at him with brown eyes wide with concern and his hand is resting on the edge of Jon’s desk and god, Jon wants to kiss him.

He doesn’t know when he’ll get another chance.

Jon stands before he makes the conscious decision to do so, and he makes his way around his desk, his hands shaking and his heart tight in his chest. This might be it, he thinks, even as his hand comes down to gently cup Martin’s cheek before stalling just shy of his skin, fingers curling inward in hesitation. This might be all we get.

“Jon?” Martin says, his voice very small.

“I…” Jon looks away from Martin for a moment, a familiar instinct within him telling him to pull away. To not bare himself like this, to not wear his heart on his sleeve. Then, he looks back and meets Martin’s eyes and pushes past the lump in his throat enough to say, “I… I don’t want to go. Not- not without…” His voice breaks, and he moves his hand the rest of the way until his knuckles brush against the line of Martin’s jaw, feeling Martin’s startled exhalation against the skin of his wrist.

“Is this okay?” Jon says quietly.

Mutely, Martin nods.

“Okay,” Jon whispers. He’s short enough and Martin tall enough that even with Martin sitting, the height difference is small enough that he only has to lean down a bit to press his lips gently against Martin’s. They’re dry, a bit cracked near the middle where Martin has a tendency to bite them, and Jon commits the feeling to memory. His other hand comes up to cup Martin’s face, and Martin sighs against his mouth before moving his hands to Jon’s waist and resting there lightly. It’s so lovely that Jon wants to cry.

When he pulls back, it’s too soon. But he has eleven minutes sitting in the back of his mind, and he needs to leave, and he doesn’t want to go.

Selfishly, he wishes Martin were coming with him. He knows it’s safer here; he doesn’t have any delusions that they’ll all make it out of the Unknowing unscathed. But he wishes it all the same.

“Jon…” Martin says softly, and Jon captures the way Martin says his name—like it’s something delicate, something to be treasured—and holds it close. Martin’s thumbs sweep gently over Jon’s hip bones before his hands move up and settle on the small of Jon’s back. Then, he stands and pulls Jon into a tight hug. “Promise you’ll come back,” he whispers, his hands twisting in the loose fabric of Jon’s shirt. “Please, promise you’ll- you’ll be safe.”

Jon rests his head in the space underneath Martin’s chin and says, “I can’t promise that, Martin. I- I wish I could, but… I can’t.”

Martin’s quiet for a moment. Then, he squeezes Jon a little tighter, buries his nose in Jon’s hair, and says, “Okay.” A pause. Then: “I- I promise I’ll be safe. For what it’s worth.”

Jon lets out a shaky breath. “Thank you. I…”

I love you.

“I’m glad.”

Jon makes it to the bus stop with a minute to spare. Tim barely looks at him before turning his gaze back towards the road. Basira offers a short, perfunctory greeting but nothing more. Jon doesn’t look at Daisy.

He already misses him. It eats an aching hole in his chest as he steps onto the bus, and as the doors close behind him, he tells himself that he’ll be coming back.

He wishes he could find the heart to believe it.

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #my fic #my writing #sorry this took so long!#i'm working through the rest of my kiss prompts this weekend

407 notes · View notes

nastybuckybarnes · 3 years

Text

In a Heartbeat - Seven

Pairing: Fireman!Bucky X Reader

Summary: You’ve always been careful with your heart. With your condition, you don’t exactly have any other choice. The last time you let someone in, you paid the price. A price you don’t plan on paying again. Until Bucky comes in and shatters your carefully crafted world.

Warnings: Angst, Language, Injuries, Fluff, Fluff, FLUFF

Word Count: 4.1K

A/n: Here she is! Part seven! I’m gonna write a little epilogue but the fic can very well end here! I love this series with my whole heart and soul omg

Series Masterlist

~*~

He’s numb.

So damn numb.

Nothing even matters. His ears are ringing, the bright lights bouncing off the linoleum floors are fucking with his eyes but he doesn’t care because you’ve been in the operating room for hours and all he wants is to see you, to make sure you’re okay.

No one’s said a single thing to him about whether or not you’re okay, and it’s taking all of his self-control not to break down that door and see for himself.

A heavy hand lands on his shoulder, jolting him from his thoughts and bringing him back to the loud sounds of the waiting room.

He furrows his brows at Steve, confused out of his mind until he sees Tommy in his other arm, head resting against his father's shoulder and a casted arm hanging limply at his side.

“Hey Tommy, how you feeling?” The brunet asks, his voice rough and hoarse with lack of use.

The six-year-old only whimpers softly in response, burrowing further into his father’s neck.

“He’s okay. Doctor’s got him on some painkillers. Said it was a clean break from pounding on that window.” Bucky stands up, rubbing his nephew on the back. “You’re a hero, buddy. Just like your daddy.” Tommy sniffles and nods, the sight breaking the man’s heart.

“You should head home for the night, Buck. Shower, rest, then come back in the morning.” He clenches his jaw and swallows hard, shaking his head.

“I-I can’t, Steve. What if... what if she comes out and I’m not here? Or what if...” He trails off, not even wanting to entertain the idea of the other option.

“I saw Nat on her way down here. Ask her for an update and then go home. You’ve had a long day. And when she’s out of surgery she's gonna be upset to see that you’ve exhausted yourself out here in the waiting room.” Steve has a point. Both men are still in their fire gear, having rushed to the hospital directly from the fire.

It’s after midnight now.

“I’m taking Tommy home. Take care of yourself tonight, Buck. If not for you, then for her.” He nods, eyes on the floor as the blond leaves, his son curled up against his side.

“Barnes? You’re still here?” He looks up at the sound of Natasha’s voice, desperation evident on his face as she walks over to him.

“I’ve got no update other than she’s unstable and that they’re doing everything they can. It’ll be another few hours before she’s out of surgery and even then, she’s going straight to the ICU and won’t be awake for at least a day or so.” He lets out a terribly shaky breath but nods, rubbing his eyes then pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Y-you’ll call if there are any updates, right? I’m just gonna pop home and shower and sleep for a few hours but I'll be back first thing in the morning.” She nods, taking his hand and squeezing tightly.

“I’m off for the rest of the night, so I’ll be sticking around bugging the nurses for updates whenever I can. Might even bribe an intern with good coffee, not this hospital shit.” Bucky chuckles softly, shaking his head.

“Okay.” He takes a step towards the exit then hesitates, looking back at the redhead for a. moment. “Do you think she’s gonna make it?” He asks, his voice soft and broken and nearly lost among the sea of people.

Natasha swallows hard and avoids his eyes, taking a deep breath before answering.

“The doctors are doing everything they can.” A rehearsed answer. An answer she gives to relatives to let them know that they shouldn’t expect much.

He says nothing, only gives her a firm nod, then turns and leaves the hospital.

Hot droplets of water rain down on him, washing away the stench of smoke and the physical reminder of the events of the day. But no heat and no water pressure will wash away the sorrow in his soul. The absolute unadulterated fear that grips his bones and seeps into his bloodstream. That is something that won’t be washed away by any amount of water and suds.

His movements are mechanical, scrub, rinse, dry, dress.

The sleep that finds him is restless and fitful, filled with nightmares that will haunt him for nights to come. Every thought, both waking and otherwise, are occupied by you. Your face, your smile, your laugh, and the thought that he may never experience any of them again.

He's back at the hospital at six-thirty, coffee in his metal hand because his flesh one is shaking too much.

Just as he’s walking to the reception desk, he sees Natasha walking towards the waiting room. Her face is unreadable when she sees him, but he notices her take a deep breath.

“What is it?” He asks, not bothering with pleasantries.

“She’s out of surgery. She’s still unstable, hasn’t woken up yet, but she’s been out for about three hours. She probably won’t wake up until this evening.” He takes a few deep breaths then nods, a bubble of relief hugging him tenderly.

“Where is she?” Nat sighs and turns on her heel, leading him towards your room.

“James, I’m not going to sugar coat this for you. She’s not doing well. There’s still a fair chance that she won’t wake up.” She stops, looking up at him with vulnerability in her eyes, tears brimming.

“What is it?” He’s nervous, his heart feels like it’s going to explode.

“They’re saying she needs a transplant. That her heart won’t last for much longer and if she wants any hope of surviving more than a couple years, she’ll need a new heart.”

The air leaves his lungs in a whoosh, almost as if someone punched him in the gut. He stumbles back a step, coffee dropped and hands coming to the tops of his thighs as he hunches over, trying to catch his breath.

“That’s a best-case scenario. Worst case is she... well... we should’ve said our goodbyes. But she’s strong. She’ll pull through. She has to pull through.” That last part is whispered so softly that the brunet almost misses it.

“Nat,” his voice breaks, it cracks and splinters and shatters in pieces on the linoleum that he doesn’t have the energy to pick up. He can’t pick himself back up. Not if you might not wake up. He just can’t.

“Sit down, c’mon.” She helps him lean back against the wall, sliding down until he’s seated, arms draped over his knees and his head hanging heavily between them.

He can’t breathe.

A sick voice in his head screams that this is what you must’ve been feeling, this terrible tightness in your chest, this inability to draw in a single damn breath. It’s unbearable and for just a moment he realizes he wouldn’t blame you if you gave up, if you just let it take you. But he shakes that thought from his head and instead focuses on you fighting. You need to fight. If you can pull through, then they can find you a new heart and you’ll be okay.

You’re going to be okay.

You have to be okay.

~*~

Everything feels still. Dry. Bland.

If you could pin it to a colour, that colour would be beige.

Everything feels beige.

You’ve been awake for a little while now, gathering your bearings and trying to remember what happened. The last thing you remember is the fire bell... Wanda telling you not to go... and then running back into the building to find Tommy.

Tommy.

Your heart picks up in speed, pain flaring through your chest at the action, and an alarm starts beeping rapidly.

It takes only seconds for the door to open, nurses and doctors flooding into the room and checking the various machines around you while you grab at the front of your hospital gown uselessly, trying to alleviate the pain.

“(Y/n), I need you to take a big breath with me, okay?” A doctor says, her brown eyes focused on yours. You nod, inhaling with her for a moment then exhaling. You do this a few times and the machine gradually stops, your heart slowing as whatever they injected into your bloodstream takes effect.

Nurses slowly trickle out, leaving just you and the doctor.

“Well, you sure know how to make an entrance,” she says with a smile, looking over your chart.

“What can I say, Doc? I’ve got a flair for the dramatic.” Your voice is weak, far weaker than it should be, and that alone scares you.

She chuckles softly, smiling at your words before tucking the chart under her arm and looking at you straight on.

“You being alive right now is an absolute miracle,” she says softly, taking a step towards the bed then motioning to the chair beside it, asking wordlessly if she can take a seat.

You nod, taking a few deep breaths as you prepare to hear whatever news she has for you.

“Your heart stopped twice on the way to the hospital, and the second time we almost couldn’t get it going again. Your heart is weak, and what you endured nearly ruptured your left atrium and you had severe lacerations of your ventricles. It is most comparable to a very severe heart attack, and you’re lucky to have survived.”

She doesn’t look like she’s delivering good news. No, she should be happy if you’re lucky to have survived. That fact alone puts you on edge.

“What is it? What... what’s wrong with my heart now?” You know it can’t be good judging only by the look on her face. It’s a look you’ve seen far too many times.

“With the rate you’re going, your heart will give out completely in three or four years. And it won’t be a pleasant process. You’ll be in pain, bedridden and hospitalized because you won’t be able to move. The only alternative is a transplant.” The world around you shifts from beige to grey, the clouds dark and the room sorrowful.

Your ears start ringing, loud and painfully and it takes everything in you not to rip them right off.

“S-so that’s it then? I’m gonna die in three years if I’m lucky? I’ve only got three years left?” She sighs and looks down at her hands, “the only other option would be to put you on a waiting list for a new heart, but we cannot guarantee that you’ll get it in time, but it’s worth a shot.” You shake your head, tears falling from your eyes and splattering on the ugly blue hospital blanket.

“I don’t want a new heart! I don’t want to go through a process and get my hopes up over something that I won’t get in time.” You sniffle and shove your face in your hands, the steady beeping of the machine next to you making you want to cry even harder.

“I’ll give you some time, (Y/n).” The doctor gets up and leaves, a sad look on her face as she turns to the pair waiting anxiously outside your door.

Natasha pushes herself to her feet, her eyes wide with curiosity and desperation.

“I recommend you give her space. She’s... processing everything,” Doctor Palmer says softly, giving Natasha a sad smile before walking away to handle her other patients.

Nat exchanges looks with Bucky then slowly walks to the door.

“Just give me a minute to see how she’s doing, okay? I’ll tell her you’re out here waiting, I just wanna see if she needs anything.” He takes a deep breath but nods, understanding that Natasha would be able to tell, if only from a medical standpoint, what you need.

You keep your face in your hands, tears wetting your palms, as the door opens again.

“Beans?” Nat’s voice makes you stiffen, sniffling and wiping your eyes before peeking up at her.

Her heart shatters in her chest at the sight of you.

Skin dull, eyes heavy and sunken. She’s seen a lot of sick people before but never would she have put you in the same category as them. Now though? Now, you look the part.

“I uh... I heard the news. Bugged the nurses for updates and they finally caved.”

Your bottom lip wobbles and then a sob bubbles out of your chest.

Nat’s face falls and she slides onto the bed beside you, pulling you into a tight embrace while you sob.

“Oh beans,” she whispers, smoothing your hair away from your face.

“I don’t want a new heart!” You cry, tears soaking her shirt. She hugs you, holds you tightly while you cry out your frustrations, your sorrows.

It’s agony.

She has so many questions, so much she wants to say, but she knows better.

She holds her tongue, wanting you to be in a better headspace before she talks to you about your options. It’s too soon. The wound is too fresh.

Bucky sits impatiently outside of the room the whole time, leg bouncing and flesh fingers trembling.

Natasha comes out of your room a short while later, sniffling and wiping at her cheeks.

“What’s happening? Is she okay?” The redhead nods, taking a few deep breaths.

“I’ve seen a lot of sick people, Barnes. A lot of them. But seeing her... seeing my friend so weak and tiny...” She shakes her head, looking up at him with glossy eyes.

“I’m scared, Buck.” Bucky pulls her into a hug, his own breaths shaking.

“It's okay. It’s gonna be okay.” She sniffles again then speaks, “she’s asleep again. She should be good to see you the next time she wakes up though. I’m sure she misses you.” He squeezes his eyes shut but nods, trying to mentally prepare himself to see you in such a fragile state.

~*~

Bucky doesn’t know how to feel.

He doesn’t even want to feel.

Helpless.

That’s the word that sums it up the best.

Seeing you on that hospital bed, tubes attached to your face, arms, and chest, he feels absolutely helpless.

“Hey,” he murmurs, smiling gently when you look up from your book.

“Bucky... Hi.” Your voice is raspy and hoarse, and he has to take a few shaky breaths to stop from crying.

“You mind if I sit?” You shake your head, motioning to the chair beside your bed.

He takes a seat and looks at you closely, his eyes welling up with tears.

“How ya feelin, pretty girl?” You huff a breath out through your nose then shrug, trying your hardest to stay strong in front of him.

“I uh... I’ve been better, I gotta say.” He chuckles weakly then nods, sniffling and dropping his gaze for a moment.

“Nat uh... Nat told me what the doctors said. About your heart and stuff. That’s... intense.” It’s not the best word but it’s the only one he can find.

You blow a breath out through your mouth and nod.

“It’s scary,” you whisper, not looking up from your hands even when he takes them in his.

“I’m scared. I don’t want to be put on a waiting list only to not get one in time. And there are people who need a new heart more than I do. People who want one more than I do.” He furrows his brows and cocks his head to the side in confusion.

“What do you mean, you don’t want a new heart? Why wouldn’t you want one?”

You sigh heavily, “because, James. This is my heart. It’s the heart that I’ve lived with for my whole life. I don’t want a new one because this one is mine. This is the one that’s dealt with heartbreaks and betrayals. This is the one that’s gotten me through the bad days and the good. And this is the one that chose you. I don’t want a different one. I wanna keep this one. And don’t you dare tell me that my days are numbered if I keep this one because my days are numbered regardless.”

You finally look up at him, fire in your eyes as you express everything that’s been going on in your mind.

“We’re all gonna die someday, and it may not be the way we expect or the way we want, and we won’t ever be fully ready for it. But it’s gonna happen. I’d much rather know that I spent my life doing what I wanted on my terms. If my days are numbered, I'd rather enjoy them than spend them waiting for a heart I may never get. My heart’s still got a few years left in it. Careful years, yeah, but years no less.”

Tears stain his cheeks and he nods, sniffling twice then pressing a kiss to your hands.

“I’m not going to try and change your mind, Doll. The choice is completely yours and no matter what you decide to do, I’ll stay by your side through all of it, I promise. You’re my girl, my best girl, my only girl, and I want you to do what’s best for you.” You squeeze your eyes shut, having mentally prepared yourself for him to put up a fight, not for him to be so supportive of your decision.

“I love you, (Y/n). And I’m gonna cherish every fucking moment that you let me spend with you because I love you. I thought,” he pauses, pulling a hand back to scrub the tears off of his cheeks only for more to fall.

“I thought I’d lose you before getting a chance to truly tell you. But I’m not gonna waste any more time because life is a precious gift. I love you, (Y/n). So much. To the fucking ends of the Earth. I love you and I don't want a day to go by where you don’t know just how much I love you.”

You whimper, his confession making warmth spread through your body and tears rain down your cheeks.

“I-I love you too, James. With every ounce of my heart, I love you. And I don't want to let you down and I never want to hurt you.” He closes his eyes, content to bask in the weight of your words for a moment longer, a private, intimate moment.

He eventually settles his head on the bed next to your hip, and your fingers find their way into his luscious brown locks, twirling the thick strands around mindlessly.

“When are you getting discharged?” He asks, his voice muffled by the bed.

“I’m not sure yet. Doctor Palmer said she wants to keep me here for at least another week or so to monitor my heart and take me off the medication, and then maybe some more time after that depending on how weak I am.” He nods, nuzzling against you some more.

“I’m not going back to work ‘till you’re out,” he says matter-of-factly.

You only giggle, shaking your head.

“James, that’s not even plausible. You’ve got bills to pay. Besides, you’ll get tired of being here. I’m gonna spend most of my time sleeping or bugging the nurses for some real food.” He lifts his head, eyes full of vulnerability.

“I just don't wanna leave you and then...” He trails off but you understand his concern.

“I’m gonna be okay. Doctor Palmer says I’m doing okay. I’m sure Nat will continue bugging her for updates and she’ll let you know if there’s anything concerning happening. But I’m gonna be fine, I swear.” He watches you for a moment longer before nodding and pressing his head against your thigh.

A thought bubbles into your mind and you tug gently on his hair to get his attention.

“What happened to Tommy?” You ask, voice tight and filled with apprehension.

Bucky only smiles gently.

“Lil guy’s a hero. He busted that window open, that’s how we found you two. Broke his arm but he’s okay. Says he looks like me so he likes it.” A smile finds its way onto your face at the idea of Tommy looking up to his uncle so much.

“He’s already gotten everyone at the firehouse to sign it, and I’m sure when he’s back to school he’ll get everyone there to sign it too. But the lil guy’s a hero. Gonna make a good firefighter.” You nod, mind flashing back to those last few moments in the school.

“I was so scared, James. I-I couldn’t protect him and I didn’t know what to do.” He reaches up and strokes your cheek gently, shushing you softly.

“It’s okay, pretty girl. It’s okay. Everyone’s okay.” You take a few deep breaths and nod, trying to calm down before your heart rate picks up too much.

“You need to worry about yourself, and not everyone else. Focus on getting better, okay? And then, when you’re ready, I’m gonna take you out on a date and show you just how much you can enjoy life, okay?”

You nod, smiling at him.

“Okay.”

~*~

“Miss (Y/l/n)!” Tommy runs at you full speed, nearly knocking you over when he barrels into your legs.

Bucky’s quick to steady you, opening his mouth to reprimand his nephew but you stop him, raising a hand to cut him off.

“Hey, Tommy! How’s my little superhero feeling?” He pulls back and smiles up at you.

“I got another cast so now my arm looks just like uncle Bucky’s!” You glance at the new blue cast and smile brightly.

“Look at that! And you’re a hero just like him too, huh?” He nods excitedly then digs around in his pocket for a moment.

“Here!” He hands you a sharpie then points to a blank space on his cast.

“I made sure to leave room for you to sign it!” Your face softens and you crouch down in front of him, signing your name and drawing a small picture.

“Thank you, Tommy.” He nods, glancing over his shoulder as his dad calls his name.

“C’mon Tommy! You gonna help us move or are you gonna help miss (Y/l/n) get organized?” He looks between you and his dad then runs over to the moving truck, excitedly grabbing whatever his little arms can carry then bringing them into the house.

Bucky wraps an arm around your waist and presses a soft kiss to your temple.

“You ready?” You look up at your new house, then over at him, nodding without hesitation.

“Absolutely.”

The moving process is long and tedious, and after seven hours of lifting, unboxing, cleaning, and organizing, you’re about ready to call it a day.

“Pizza’s on its way, and Nat ran out to grab some beers,” Bucky says, coming up into the master bedroom. Concern immediately colours his features as he sees the way you’re sitting. You’re on the bed, hunched over with one hand on your mouth and the other on your lower abdomen.

“(Y/n)?” He asks, coming to a crouch in front of you and trying to get a look at your face.

You take a few deep breaths then nod, opening your eyes and offering him a weak smile.

“You okay?” You nod again but he seems unconvinced.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” You take a deep breath and reach for his hand, squeezing it gently.

“I uh.. not really. I wanted to tell you in a better way but I guess this is as good as it’s going to get.” His heart is in his throat, absolutely terrified of what you’re going to tell him.

You’ve been going to the doctor a lot more frequently, and your energy levels have plummeted.

He knew you didn’t have time left but it hasn’t even been six months since the fire.

You pull his hand to your stomach and rest it there gently, eyes finding his as you wait for it to click.

He stares at his hand in confusion, that confusion melting away as he realizes what you’re telling him.

“Wait, are you...?” His eyes are wide, eyebrows raised and heart pounding.

You only nod, tears welling up in your eyes as he launches up and wraps his arms around your frame.

“Oh my god. Oh my god! I’m gonna be a dad!” You giggle wetly, tears of joy falling and getting soaked up by his shirt.

“We’re gonna have a baby.” He pulls back, hands on your small baby bump.

“How far along are you?” He asks, cradling the bump delicately between his hands.

“About three months. And the doctor said that they’ve already got a birth plan ready, and different pills for me to take to calm my heart.” His glossy eyes look up at you, so full of love and adoration.

“I can’t believe it. I...” he stops, leaning in the gently kiss your lips then pulls you into another tight embrace.

“Thank you, (Y/n). Thank you.”

315 notes · View notes

loving-all-for-loki · 3 years

Note

Can you write one where the Rogers is assigning a new recruit to each avenger for training? Loki gets the new girl and he’s irritated thinking she’s just some normal human that hasn’t a clue how to fight properly because of her petite size. When it comes time for them to spar, she gives him hell. She fights with swords and is very skilled in the art. He says something to piss her off and she ends up blasting him away with powers she never told anyone about. Loki realizes what she is since he knows the magic she used. She’s part light elf but being half human she was abandoned and left to die just like Loki was. They end up bonding and work together on the team.

A/N: I hope you like it! I didn't focus a whole ton of them working together, but I feel like you get the point. It's a bit longer than my other one shots.

The Moon And Her Darkness

Summary: Y/N, the newest avenger, starts her first day of training. An unimpressed Loki’s doubts are proved to be wrong when she reveals herself to be stronger than he knew.

Word count: 2744

Warnings: angst, dick Loki

Forever Tags: @mm2305

Your blood pumps fast through your body as you stare at the raven haired god. Ever since you joined the team, he’s been giving you dirty looks and eye rolls. You tried to not pay attention to it since you know of his past (and have been warned by Tony), but as the newest Avenger trying to prove herself, you find yourself longing for his approval.

It has been a week since Nicky Fury showed up at your home, extracting you from it, and throwing you into the lion's den you called the Avengers. You never signed up for it, but given that you were on the government’s radar for a long time, you’re not surprised. A couple mishaps here and there made them take you on their own terms. They’ve decided that having super powers is not something to be normalized and that you couldn’t live like a normal civilian.

Although you want to be home, the Avengers have already shown to be a great family. Nat and Wanda have already taken you shopping while Steve gave you a tour of the tower. As far as the others, they have been out of sight. Bucky avoids everyone, Sam with him because they’re glued to the hip, and Tony is somewhere else working on new technology with Bruce. Clint? Thor? Who even knows. You’ve been thankful for the attention they have given you.

Except for Loki.

You remember the attack in New York and you won’t lie when saying that approaching the god is intimidating. He stands with great pride and power, it’s hard not to feel small, but when he stares at you the way he does, it’s harder. He doesn’t stop looking at you as if you were a rat he found in a sandwich. Disposable. Replaceable. Disgusting. You don’t expect much from the God being that he’s only staying here out of punishment for the attacks, but you had hoped for a little something more. Even a prank or two.

When Steve told you that you were going to start training, you expected hand to hand combat like the rest, not whatever involves Loki being in the gym at the same time as the two of you. He hasn’t said a word, but just stared at you as Steve goes over some basic disabling techniques and defense. Most of it is already burned in your brain from your childhood, being a warrior and all, but you still manage to learn some new things.

But learning as to why Loki is there, that still remains unclear. Everytime you throw a punch or try to block one of Steve’s, Loki scoffs at you and rolls his eyes. He looks completely relaxed on a bench in the room, yet he could not be looking at you with a more tense gaze. He looks worried, as if you’re going to get beaten to a pulp.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” You yell at him.

Panting, you block Steve’s last hit and turn to the younger Odinson.

“Sorry?”

“Oh, don’t sorry me. Cut the crap, Loki. What’s up?”

“I believe the sky is.”

You grab a knife off the wall and aim it in his direction, startling him slightly but not even shocking Steve.

“You stare at me with daggers in your eyes and judge my every move. You have yet to even talk to me since I joined the team. What do you have against me, you ass?”

“Y/N-”

“Shut it, Steve!” You yell, quickly aiming the dagger at him before returning to Loki, “You. Talk.”

“It’s just pathetic, that’s all.”

“Pathetic? You’re calling me pathetic?”

You start to charge at Loki, but Steve quickly wraps his arm around your waist, holding you back from gutting the god.

“Y/N, I wanted you to spar with him after me,” he cuts in.

“And why would I do that?”

“Because he's a skilled fighter who matches your level.”

“Oh, so I spar with the tricker who decides I’m too pathetic to fight. He’s going to teleport or some shit and stab me like he does with Thor.” Loki’s eyebrows raise at the mention of Thor getting stabbed. “Yes, I’ve heard the stories. I’m not that naive, Steve.”

“I won’t leave you alone with him. I’ll be here to watch and guide.”

“What do you know about fighting with me? I have magic beyond belief” Loki asks the both of you.

“I know more than you think,” I spit, turning back to Steve, “Can we do something else?”

“Well, you coud-”

“I am not sparing with Loki.”

“Okay, then how about weapons? Whatever one you want to start with?”

Loki scoffs again at the mention of you fighting any other way than hand to hand combat. He’s lucky you’re on the same team as him or else you would have decapitated him by now just because of annoyance. How can a man so attractive be so obnoxious?

You walk over to the wall of weapons were Steve and quietly discuss which ones you’ll practice with. He recommends knives so you can spar with Natasha when he’s gone, but the swords are more up your alley. They remind you of your childhood, the weapon of your people. Some days, you miss them, but you know they are fighting their own battle that is too dangerous for you.

Picking up the swords, Steve warns you he is not good which makes Loki laugh again. He has the right to this time because how do you practice with a man who doesn’t know what he’s doing. You can’t last ten minutes with Cap before you’re tired of his flailing. He’s really not good.

“Loki, you wouldn’t happen to know how to use swords would you?”

“I have some experience. Asgard knights and Valkyrie used them, we were forced to learn.”

He stands and takes Steve’s sword from him. Turning to you, he smirks, taking you in. Your frame looks so small compared to his, nothing but a mortal. He’s never admit it, but he finds you slightly adorable, in a helpless baby sort of way. You take proper stance and stare at Loki dead in the eye, determined to prove him wrong.

The two of you run at each other, swinging at any unblocked area you can, yet never hitting. He blocks your swing, pushing you back but not down. Looking up at him, you scream and run, thrusting your sword towards his neck and legs. He blocks you again, but not without stumbling. Before he’s able to get up, you land a blow right to his chest, knocking the air out of him. He hooks his foot around your leg and flips the two of you over so he hovers above you, sword to throat.

“I’ll admit it, you are good, but not great,” he laughs.

He stands up and walks off, setting the swords back on their holder on the wall. You gradually stand up, fury in your bones for the way he speaks to you.

“You… are irritable!” You yell.

Right before Loki gets to the door, he turns to face you. Steve rushes to your side.

“Y/N, stop. He’s not worth it.”

“Oh, he’s not worth it, alright,” you mutter to Steve, “He’s not worth the pride. The praise. Whatever the ‘glorious purpose’ he thinks he has. He’s just an insecure little boy who needs to prove himself over others, make them feel small so he feels superior. Just a bully.”

“I’d watch your tongue,” Loki warns.

“Or else what? You’ll challenge me to a words competition? See who has the best insults or can sound like the biggest douche because I think we all know who would win! Another check mark for your book of things you’re better at than ‘midgardians’ or ‘mortals’ or whatever degrading nickname you think of next.”

Loki’s chest heaves in anger. You’ve never seen someone so angry or heard anyone yelling at you with concern like Steve. Nothing he says registers in your head as Loki’s daring looks fill your mind. You’d almost be scared if you didn’t know he’s full of empty threats. Just a scared little god boy.

“You imbecile, think you can scare me?”

“Actually, I think anything can.”

“I can take words from someone who does not know me, but to be called a coward is not something I take lightly.”

“So what are you going to do about it? Huh?”

“Nothing, I don’t waste my time on people like you.”

“Oh, people like me? Because the great Frost Giant Asgardian is sooo superior.”

“Don’t you ever say that.”

Loki rushes to your side, grabbing you by the throat and lifting you up against the wall.

“Loki, stop it!” Steve yells.

“This is not about you, Rodgers. I suggest you leave before getting in the crossfire.”

“I can’t do that. The safety of this team-”

“Is your priority. I know you are honorable, but I highly suggest you leave.”

Steve hesitates at the sound of you gasping for air. You cling onto Loki’s hand, tightly wound around your throat. His veins pop out of his hand like a dehydrated man. Steve looks back at you, eyes now closed to focus on your breathing.

“Put her down first,” Steve orders.

“Fine, always have to be the hero.”

Loki sets you down and your body goes numb. Everything hurts, your throat swelling. You gasp for all the air you can, feeling it go down your throat and enter your lungs. It’s fresh, comforting, healing. Leaning your head back against the wall, you barely open your eyes to see Steve by your side.

“Are you okay?”

Not energized enough to speak yet, you nod your head and place your hand on his shoulder. Steve looks over at you with worry before turning back to Loki.

“Leave, now.”

“Gladly.”

Loki turns to walk away, but doesn’t. He stands there to listen to you and Steve. At this point, neither of you care. You’re too focused on not dying.

“Can you breathe?” Steve asks.

You nod your head.

“I can get you help. We have a hospital room.”

“No,” you choke, “I’m fine. I just need a moment.”

Steve nods, but doesn’t listen. He gets up and leaves the room, rushing down the hallways to get a nurse, leaving you alone with Loki.

“Why haven’t you left?”

“No reason.”

“Please, just go. I’m tired of fighting. You’ve done enough.”

Loki turns to look at you. You look weak, but actually weak this time. The purple tint to your skin is fading as your lungs self regenerate as you keep breathing. Gripping onto the wall behind you, you stand up. Your knees are weak, making you wobble as you do. You’re not lying. You’re tired of Loki. You’ve barely spoken to the man and he’s made two attempts on your life in ten minutes. Sure, you teased him, but doesn’t he deserve it for being an ass.

“Weak.” He mutters.

That was the last straw. You look up at him. He stares at you as if the devil himself has entered you and your eyes glow bright red, but you know what is wrong. Holding out your hand towards Loki. A glow erupts from behind you, bright yet dark. It’s dark blue like the night sky and Loki watches it in awe. In seconds, Loki’s body is flung through the training room doors, blasting him into the wall of the hallways. He feels his rib breaking, his head hitting the wall. He yells out in pain as you slowly approach him, the anger seeping through.

“Never call me weak.”

Loki flips his head up to look at you, shock running through his body. At the sound of his body collapsing, the other Avengers come running forward. They look upon the sight of you towering over the trickster god with a look they’ve never seen before. Ethereal. Godly. You look as if you’re a queen staring at her peasant handmaid. Anger. Controlling. Power.

“What the-” Bucky mutters.

“You,” Loki gasps.

He struggles to stand as the team tries to help but he refuses. You two locked eyes but nothing was said. “You’re an elf.”

Everyone looks back at you with confused faces, but you don’t say anything. Your body goes hot at the mention of the word ‘elf’. The fire inside you fades out as anxiety places it, waiting for Loki to continue.

“I knew if someone was here to figure it out it’d be you,” you whisper.

“Light elf yes?”

“Yes, moon elf to be exact.”

“How are you here? Aren’t the-”

“Yes, they’re away. I was left to die. Our town got ransacked, everyone fled. No one stopped for me.”

“Then how are you here?”

“The Air elves. They got word of what happened and came. Found me. Took me back, but-”

“You weren’t suited. They found out.”

“Yes.”

There’s a moment of silence between you and the god. His eyes shine with sadness, tears coming to the corners. He looks at you with great pity as the wall inside you breaks.

“Can someone explain what’s happening?” Steve asks.

“Can you tell?” You ask Loki.

He nods, “Yes. Y/N is a moon elf, a tribe of light elves. They’re as high up as Asgard in the nine realms, powerful warriors. They’ve been at the center of every creature out there. People have been after them for their weapons, gems, and wealth. A landmark for every thief and warrior in the universe.”

“My town was destroyed when I was a little girl. Nobody wanted me because I was a child. I was a burden to them.”

“She was left for dead to be found by the Air Elves. Another tribe. Not as powerful. But they didn’t want her and there’s only one reason why they wouldn’t want a moon elf. She’s a half-breed.”

“Moon elves are the only ones who tolerate them. Half human, half elf. Considering many of them come from moon elves, they’re not despised, but Air Elves.”

“They dropped you off on Midgard to be picked up by someone else. I assume you hid your powers?” “I had to. I acted out once when I was little and my parents freaked out. They sent me away. I lived in a orphanage before some group took me, trained me, helped me hone in my powers. They saved me.”

“Until you got to old and left.”

“Didn’t know where to go. I became a waitress at some back alley bar, lived above it in an apartment with my manager. Lived paycheck to paycheck.”

“Then?”

“Nicky Fury came to me. I was on SHIELD’s radar and they wanted me on the Avengers.”

The room goes silent. Throughout your talking you missed the way Loki got considerably closer to you. You practically stand right under his nose. Loki raises his hands and places them on your shoulders, getting your attention. You two look each other in the eye for a long moment.

“I am… so sorry.”

You feel the tears forming in your eyes as Loki pulls you into his chest, holding you by your waist. The team watches in awe as the closed off god embraces you. Slowly, everyone leaves you two in the hallway. An hour goes by as you cry in Loki’s eyes.

Eventually, Loki picks you up bridal style and brings you to your bedroom. He helps you get dressed for the night and settled in bed before you grab his hand, making him turn back to face you. His eyes are no longer riddled with anger or hatred, but kindness and pity. He looks at you like you’re a little lamb to be protected.

“Yes, darling?”

“Stay with me?”

He nods before undressing and getting in bed with you. He pulls you close, your head leaning on his chest, and places an arm around your waist.

Every night goes on like this. No matter what happened in the day, even if you two got into an argument, Loki always found his way back by your side in your bed. You would have never expect it from how he treated you at first, but after the last few months since you met him, you find yourself growing closer to the god.

Loki slips into your bed for what feels like the 1482nd time. Resting your head on his chest, Loki pulls you close to his body.

“Goodnight, darling.”

#loki #loki fanfic #loki x reader fluff #loki x reader #loki fluff #loki x reader one shot #loki one shot #loki laufeyson #loki layfeyson x reader #loki laufeyson fluff #loki laufeyson x reader #lovingallforloki #themoonandherdarkness

126 notes · View notes

danielxricciardo · 3 years

Note

Hi love the writing! Could you do something angsty around 26 or 35 with max??

Summary: You found out Max cheated on you

Warnings: angst, swearing

Word count: 2.5k

26. “Those things you said yesterday, did you mean them?”

35. “What will you do if we break up?”

'Max is looking at you' you read what your best friend Anthony, an engineer at Red Bull Racing, wrote.

And you worked at Red Bull Racing too, you decided with Max Verstappen, your boyfriend, that this is the best way for you to travel with him. You didn't have a complicated job. You dealt with filtering the negative ad on the team and then you gave it to Victoria to deal with the articles as she knew.

'Okay, let him look,' you write on the piece of paper that Anthony wrote quickly on.

You were at a meeting with all the Red Bull Racing employees, to your bad luck. Being in the same room with Max Verstappen was the last thing you wanted at the time.

Sure, your relationship was beautiful, or it had been anyway. He was whatever you wished from a man and more. He looked like a bad boy but he was the cutest and most thoughtful man you knew and he made you feel safe even when you couldn't see him.

His words still resonate in your mind and you had to make a supernatural effort not to cry.

You knew Max Verstappen loved you. He told you that every day and showed you through the gestures he made. He never gave you a reason to doubt him, and you didn't look for scandal either.

But every time you saw her, a lump appeared in your stomach. Without wanting to, you became careful around you, looking for her or Max. When you saw them talking, you looked for any excuse to go near them.

But your fear was unfounded, wasn't it? Max loved you, you were together for two years and you were fine.

But you also looked at her. She had also had a long-term relationship with Daniil Kvyat, a relationship of almost three years and they have a little girl together. There can be nothing between them.

Anthony has told you several times that Max and Kelly have been spending a lot of time together, at least lately, and you said you weren't worried. Why would you be?

But last night all your worries and fears came upon you at once. Anthony told you he saw Max leave the paddock with Kelly and didn't come back for about three hours. He didn't want to pay attention to this thing but when Anthony went to the driver to show him some sketches he noticed a small bruise on the backside of his neck.

"Really?" he tells you laughing. "How old are you to leave hickeys on your skin? Only teenagers still do that."

You felt all the color drained from your face. Hickey? You never left anything like that on his skin.

Anthony probably realized that what he said was not about you.

"Y/N... I'm so sorry..."

"It's ok," you say and smile at him even though you wanted to die at that moment. "I need a little bath, I'll be right back," you say and get up from the chair.

You started crying in the bathroom. You were disappointed, scared, disgusted, and shocked. To learn that someone you trusted unconditionally had been lying, cheating, and had developed an emotional bond with another woman behind your back was not registering in your brain.

Yes, you weren't a model, you didn't look like one, but Max always told you that you were perfect and that no other woman compares to you.

You literally could not wrap your head around what was happening...

You hoped that your darkest thoughts would never come true, but they did. Max and Kelly. Together. Behind your back.

It feels like every nerve in your body has either frozen or left your vessel completely. Your body literally enters a state of shock; adrenaline. You are absolutely stripped. Vulnerability. Disbelief. Disgust. Horror. Anger. Confusion. Shattering, crippling, traumatizing heartbreak.

Trust, honesty, and respect are necessary for a relationship, and Max just shattered all three at once. You have been the victim of an emotional crime. You ask yourself, how could this person fuck me over like this?

I trusted them.

I loved them.

I was loyal to them.

I kept my end of the fucking bargain.

How could you emotionally manipulate me?

What was I lacking?

Am I the problem?

Truly sickening, reality-twisting, mind-fucking stuff. You just couldn't believe that this was happening to you. Infidelity is something you hear about quite often, in books, movies, the media, or to other people, but not to you. This was somebody you loved with all of your heart, who told you he loved you, who had never shown the slightest inclination of dishonesty or moral transgression or disloyalty.

"Y/N, are you okay?" you heard Anthony behind the door, the fear and worry present in his voice.

"I'm fine," you say, though no one would have believed you. "I'll be there in a moment."

You splashed some water on your face, looked in the mirror, and bit your lip. You looked like hell. The eyes were red, the small veins that irrigated the eyeballs were broken, the face was red, in a combination between the violent crying crisis and the anger you had.

What were you going to do? Will you pretend you didn't know anything? Will you tell him you knew? Were you going to break up with him or were you going to wait for him to break up with you to be with Kelly?

You finally came out of the bathroom and Anthony was waiting for you at the door. He hugged you tight and assured you that everything would be fine. But he had no way of knowing that. It was nothing more than his simple hope that his best friend would not lose her fucking mind.

The phone starts ringing. Anthony lets you go and he goes to see who's calling you. He gives you a worried look. You immediately realized that it was Max who was calling you. Tears began to flow down your cheeks again and Anthony took your reaction as an invitation for him to answer the phone.

"Hey, man," he replies, and you don't hear what Max is saying. "No, she went for a coffee and left her phone on the table. Okay, I'll tell her. Okay, bye."

You approach him after he's finished the call to make sure you don't hear Max's voice.

"He said to go to his room."

"I don't want to see him."

"I realized that. Let's go, we'll deal with this problem later."

You went for a walk. The fresh air calmed you down a bit, but you had all kinds of thoughts in your mind.

How many times has this happened? Did you really want to know that? You really wanted to know how many times he kissed her and then he would come to you and tell you that he loves you.

If Anthony hadn't seen the hickey, how many more times did he planned to cheat on you?

Did he love her? That would have hurt you the most, knowing that you failed to give Max the love he needed and had to look for it in the arms and bed of another woman.

"Just know that I understand your feelings. I've been through this myself." Anthony breaks the silence and you look at him. "To be cheated on, it's a feeling of helplessness and zero self-worth. You feel as if you didn't do enough for that person which is why they reached out for someone else sexually or romantically. You blame it on yourself half the time. You dig for answers in your memories to try to figure out where you went wrong, where things started to go in a different direction. You hope that it won't happen again. You hope that the saying "once a cheater, always a cheater" it's just a myth. They broke your trust, how could you ever trust them again, right? You become paranoid when they go out at night or they don't answer your phone calls by the first ring. You find yourself having more down and depressed days than happy days. And a lot of questions will always replay in the back of your mind. Why? Why now? Why with them? How could this be happening to you? No matter how many times you get an answer, it won't be enough. Day after day, it'll get better but worse at the same time."

After two hours you returned to the paddock. You were immediately notified that Max was looking for you everywhere and he was worried he couldn't find you. Ironic, isn't it?

"Y/N!" you hear Max's voice.

"Do you want me to stay with you?" Anthony asks, standing in front of you to block your image of Max.

"No, it's okay. I'll handle it somehow..."

Anthony nods and leaves, staring angrily at Max.

"Hey, I was looking for you everywhere. Are you okay? Your eyes are a little red." he asks and if you didn't know better you'd think he cared.

"Let's go somewhere private."

You went to his room. You sat on his bed and thought about what you could say. You were thinking about what Anthony told you when you walked together.

Max hands you a dose of Red Bull and you take it, feeling your throat very dry.

"We need to talk," you tell him and you feel your eyes start to sting. It was not yet time to start crying.

"Okay? Is something wrong?"

"Is it true what Anthony told me?" you ask and you see that Max doesn't know what you mean; how would he know? "Is it true that you and Kelly spent some time together?"

His face went blank for a moment as he tried to understand.

"What you mean?"

You reach out your trembling hand to the collar of his polo shirt to lower it where Anthony told you it was the mark.

And Anthony was right. There was, in front of you, the hickey Kelly made on him.

Max didn't expect that. He looks at you with wide eyes and you hear his heart start beating harder. Sweat dripped down his forehead.

He looked away from you, numb. You discovered his secret. You didn't know if he was afraid of your reaction or sorry you found out his little secret.

"I didn't intend to hurt you," he says, and you realize he's telling the truth.

He had a guttural voice.

You smile at them. A broken smile that hid the primordial desire to cry and hit him with all your best.

"I don't care about your intentions. They're irrelevant. You didn't intend to hurt me? Well, you didn't intentionally try to keep me from harm either."

You don't know where you had the strength to look into his eyes and not cry. Max looks crushed. Because you found out? Because you're breaking up? Because he has to put an end to the affair with Kelly?

"How long was it actually going on before I found out?"

You see Max trying to think of an answer that doesn't affect you so much or destroy you at all.

"For less than a month," he answers.

One month? Where were you a month ago? In Spain. Did something happen there? Did you notice anything strange about him? To his behavior? No. You didn't notice anything.

Was he really that good at hiding his mistakes?

That, of course, if he considers the relationship with Kelly a mistake.

"Did you ever think of me when you were with her?"

He did not answer. You didn't even know if you wanted to know the answer to that. What would it be like to answer that he never thought of you and that his mind was soaked in serotonin that only Kelly could think of those moments?

"I never stopped loving you."

"I don't believe you loved me while you were cheating on me. Love and betrayal are incompatible. I don't feel safe with that kind of 'love.'"

"So? You're breaking up with me?" Max asks.

Although you still had so much to say, you no longer had the power. You were so mentally and physically exhausted that you just wanted to be alone and cry.

"There's nothing else to do, is there?" you say and leave his room.

Anthony was waiting for you. He noticed that you had no tears on your face and frowned.

"What happened? Did you guys make up?"

You hug Anthony hard and cry. At that moment you gave up being strong. You gave up pretending, even in front of you, that you were fine.

Fuck it, you weren't fine. You were far from fine.

You looked back at Christian Horner, who was presenting something on the video projector. You lost the whole meeting with the crew. You had no idea what was being said.

Honestly, you don't even care what they said. You only worked there because you were Max Verstappen's girlfriend. But for eighteen hours, this was no longer true. So what's stopping you from going to Christian and telling him you're resigning? What keeps you from going home and forgetting about Max, forgetting the last two years of your life and starting over?

"That's it for today, thank you very much, friends, and let's get back to work, yeah?"

Everyone gets up from their seats. Anthony draws your attention and beckons you to look at the garage door.

You could faint then and there. No one and nothing ever prepared you for the emotions you were experiencing then. Kelly Piquet was at the garage door, waiting for the meeting to end. She was staring at Max, but he was just looking at you.

"Can we talk a little?"

You nod to Anthony that you're fine and he can leave. You look at Max and you see that he doesn't look very good. He had dark circles and you're sure he didn't sleep last night either, just like you.

“Those things you said yesterday, did you mean them?” he asks, looking down at his shoes.

"Yes," you answer categorically, looking at his face, waiting for him to raise his head so you can look him in the eye.

“What will you do if we break up? You will leave here or-” you interrupt him.

"Not 'if I break up with you,' we've already gotten over it," you say and Max looks at you with wide eyes. "We already broke up last night. I'm still here because I haven't had a chance to talk to Christian yet to tell him I'm resigning."

"Are you leaving?"

"I have nothing to do here. I came to Red Bull Racing for you."

A tear runs down Max's cheek.

"What can I tell you to stay?"

"There's nothing left to say. Now go," you say and you feel a lump in your throat. "She's waiting for you."

Max turns to the garage door to see who you're talking about.

"I gave her a text message last night and told her it was all a mistake between us."

You smile at him. "Goodbye, Max," you say then you shout for Christian.

#max verstappen imagine #max verstappen oneshot #max verstappen #f1 fanfiction #f1 oneshot #f1 one shot #formula 1 oneshot #f1 fandom #f1 2021 #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #red bull racing #formula one oneshot #formula one imagine #forumula one #formula one #formula 1

297 notes · View notes

fandomvariousness · 3 years

Text

Finally

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of violence & death, nsfw content

Summary: reader finally sees her lover Eren after the team retrieves him to the airship, yet he’s not the same. Will she bring him back?

Word count: 3.2k

A/N: Forgive me if some details are inaccurate, this is my rendering of the situation, so some things may not add up!

Finally.

Finally, the day you’re going to see Eren again.

You shivered with anticipation, thinking about the letters that were going sparse, until there were none. You’ve been inseparable, supporting each other every step of the way, but Eren had to deal with unthinkable, horrible things along the same steps too, and you couldn’t take all of it away – the burning hatred seeped into his brain, numbing his senses and compassion.

He offered no explanation in letters as to why he’d stopped writing so often, and you didn’t ask for one – he’s in enemy’s land, surely he has his reasons, but deep down you knew he was pushing you away.

What were you going to say to him? Will you hug him? Will he hug you? You had no idea, and it was killing you.

Your adrenaline was over the roof. Everything around you was destroyed, splintered, ground to pieces – Eren did that.

It seemed that you lost it when you realized that Eren had transformed without the care of hurting innocent civilians – his sense of revenge was stronger than anything else. You haven’t been able to approach him yet, to look into his mesmerizing jade eyes. You suspected Captain Levi has positioned you away from him on purpose – who knows how you and Eren would’ve reacted to each other’s presence after so long.

You felt the insides of your stomach turn as you hooked your cables on the airship and zipped-lined towards it. Just a minute ago you saw how Mikasa made it inside, dragging Eren along. You heard a commotion above you – Captain Levi was cussing Eren out. The casual.

You felt how everyone stopped whatever they were doing as you were climbing on board – secretly, they all wanted to know what will happen once you two meet again. That’s how powerful you two are. Were.

Out of breath, you stood up, regaining your posture, your rifle still in hands as you finally looked at him: if not for the emerald sheen of his eyes, you wouldn’t have recognized this ragged, miserable man with a chestnut resembling that of a lion.

You stared into each other, the unbearable grief that consumed you rendering you immobile. Quickly, your vision worsened, tears blurring your eyes as you realized there’s nothing behind those of Eren. He looks at you, yet doesn’t say anything, doesn’t feel anything.

“Move,” Captain Levi muttered and lightly pushed you aside.

You tore your gaze away from Eren, breathing shallow breaths as you stumbled towards the wall, leaning on it.

And then you heard the shot.

It was unbearable. One fleeting moment, one slightest miscalculation, and she’s gone. Sasha is gone.

You kneeled beside her tomb with your head hanging down, hot teardrops sinking into the pale stone. Everything was always shit, but now… now it’s pure hell. You sobbed and raised your head to look at the cloudy sky, cutting off the air flow, trying to pull yourself together.

“Hey,” Jean approached you, Connie not far behind. “Come here.”

He crouched down to your level and placed his palms on your shoulders reassuringly, helping you stand up.

Eren was nowhere to be seen. He kept to himself in his quarters, but Captain Levi forbid anyone to properly visit him anyway. He thought Eren’s unstable.

But you thought the opposite. Eren’s perfectly stable – the deadly precision, calculation and determination fueled his conscious, revenge-fueled decisions, and frankly, you were afraid. He wasn’t thrashing around like he would years ago, screaming and tearing everything apart, consumed by fury – he knew what he was doing now.

The last time you laid eyes on him was during Sasha’s funeral, but it seemed that he wasn’t even there. His body was, of course, but his mind was fleeting somewhere else, somewhere where he could continue plotting the utter extermination of every last one of his enemies.

It’s going to be hard, bringing him back. Hell, you didn’t even know if it’s possible – he truly looked like a goner. But you were going to try, because there isn’t any other living being in the world you love more than Eren Jaeger.

You sat on your bed, facing the one that belonged to Sasha. She would tell you to stand up and go straight to Eren and whoop his ass for ignoring you.

You sank your teeth in your lower lip as you stood up and made your way towards Captain Levi’s office.

“Come in,” his low voice muttered after you knocked. He rolled his eyes when he saw it’s you.

“What is it?” he asked, his desk already stuffed with a bunch of paperwork.

“I need to visit Eren.” you realized how selfish your request sounds in the midst of everything, but you couldn’t help it.

“No.” he answered after a few seconds of regarding you, without any care in the world. “You’ll just wind him up.”

Your heart skipped a beat – if Captain Levi thought that Eren still feels something for you, then maybe it’s true.

“Please, Captain, I –”

“Stop whining, brat.” he hissed, silencing you.

There was a wall of miscommunication between the two of you as you stared at each other, trying to convince one another silently.

He put down his pen after a few moments and leaned back in his chair as he sighed slowly. “You’re gonna do it anyway, aren’t you?”

You shrugged ever so slightly as you stared at nothing in particular.

Some more silence passed. “I’ve not yet decided on giving you week’s-worth punishment for insubordination, but go. Get out.”

“Thank you, Captain.” you bowed your head to him quickly, suppressing your smile as you basically ran away.

Levi rubbed his forehead. “Stupid brats.”

As you approached the door of Eren’s room, your heart pounded against your ribs so hard, you truly thought they’re going to crack. Yet here you were, standing within a step from the door, eyeing the little crack of light that emits from within – it’s not completely closed.

You lifted your trembling arm and knocked softly, then once again, harder this time, thinking he may not have heard it.

“Eren?” you whispered weakly after you got no reply once again.

You gulped and pushed the door further, stepping in – empty. He’s not here.

You released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding as you stepped further, looking around. The whole room looked almost untouched if not for the sack of a few items he brought from his old room. Your eyes flicked towards a stack of letters on the desk – your letters.

Your lower lip quivered as you approached them, picking one up – not even opened.

Pain and anger spun like a vortex inside you, bringing hot tears to your eyes. How important must’ve been the reason that he denied you the slightest explanation?

The letter dropped back to the desk as you flinched, hearing the door shut behind you.

Gasping quietly, you turned around, seeing him clearly for the first time since a couple of days ago. He stood there in all his cool, newfound glory: hair long enough to be messily gathered in a bun, naked torso adorned with chiseled abs, V line protruding from his waistline, and pants that hugged his muscular legs.

He had a toweled hanging over his shoulder – that’s where he’s been, in the showers.

You didn’t know what was the exact reason for the hot blush that crept to your face in a second – the fact that Eren is even more attractive than you remember, or that you stood there like a mute, with your jaw basically on the floor.

His own gaze was unreadable – he watched you like a hawk as he approached the chair and draped the towel over its back, stuffing his hands in his pockets afterwards.

You snapped awake, glancing at the letters behind you, and then back at him. “You never opened them.”

“You need to forget me,” he spoke, staring directly in your eyes. “I’ve only have a few years left anyway, if I’m lucky.”

It hurt you how assured of his words he was as you turned your body from him, desperately trying to calm down. He stood there just the same when you dared to look at him again.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, failing to conceal the tremble that laced your voice. “I’ve told you countless times, I’m with you until the end, and even then.”

“That’s exactly why.” he raised his voice just a bit, reminding of the old Eren you used to know. “I can’t bear the fact that you’re okay with… all this.”

You covered your face with your palms momentarily before stepping a couple of steps closer to him. “Did you honestly think I’ll go down with this scheme of yours?”

“I’m determined to make it happen.”

“Eren, don’t be stupid!” you couldn’t control yourself anymore. “I’m not some… weak maiden in need of constant attention! I’m your partner!”

“You want to be partner of the monster that I am?” he asked, a faint hint of disappointment in his voice.

You sighed, closing your eyes. “Eren…”

“I’m a murderer.” he said as he lessened the space between you a little more, trying to impose his truth on you – you could almost feel his breath on your skin, what made another shiver run down your spine.

You opened your eyes abruptly, because you knew he expected that you won’t be able to even look at him after what he’s done. His jade eyes were the same as before as you drowned in them.

You couldn’t help as you placed your dainty palms on his ripped upper arms, the tips of your fingers jolting with electricity. Eren felt that too, for you heard him draw in a sharp breath.

You were going to say something, but right now you couldn’t focus on anything other than your skins touching again, after all this time. You gulped as you gathered courage to lightly stroke down to his forearms.

“You’re not a monster.” you spoke again. “You’re just a hurt boy who can’t help but hurt others.”

He stayed silent, because he knew it’s true. You always did this to him – always had one last argument that made him shut up. His eyes became glassy as he looked down in shame, gripping your own forearms in his calloused palms.

“Come here,” you mumbled as you wound your arms around his neck, cradling him, as his own arms snaked around your waist, head buried in the crook of your neck.

You were only hugging, but it felt ecstatic. You gripped him tightly, swearing to yourself never to let go again. You felt a few wet drops run down your shoulder, yet Eren didn’t release a sound – you knew he was holding back.

“I’m sorry for everything.” he whispered. “You don’t deserve this.”

“Eren, you’re never getting rid of me.” you whispered into his hair before planting a tender kiss on his head.

He released a breathy laugh, tickling your neck. You nuzzled into each other more, and then you felt his lips on your neck, pecking it lightly, immediately blazing flames in your lower region.

You arched your neck back, providing him with an easier access to your skin. You couldn’t suppress a small gasp as his hot breath trailed up to your jaw, along with his longing-filled kisses.

“I missed you.” he whispered against your jaw, before pecking just below the corner of your lips.

Your mind was already in shambles. “Believe me, I missed you more.”

Your lips finally collided: desperate, needy, hungry. His fingers dug into your hips, aligning your centers as your palms slid down to the either side of his neck. You moaned into his lips between the famished, open-mouthed kisses as he gripped your behind, trying to savor it all.

Your palms were running down his chest on their own, exploring every crevice and scar, some old and some new, still unexplored. You felt his hand slide under the hem of your shirt up to your ribs, leaving a scalding-hot trail in its wake.

You rutted your hips against his automatically, getting needier with every passing second, your hands hooked around his neck again, holding on for dear life.

Your jaw slacked as he sneaked his hand under your bra, his fingers coming in contact with your hardened nipple. He drew back a little so that he could see your flushed face and hazy eyes, a light sheen of saliva reflecting from your slightly lolled out tongue.

“More, you say? Just how much?” he teased, his eyes darting from your eyes to your lips repeatedly, the corners of his lips upturned ever so slightly.

“Really, really much,” you whimpered before he discarded you of your shirt and bra, his hands roaming down your sides as he sucked on your jugular, your hands buried in his hair, ruining his bun.

“Jump.” he said between the wet kisses as you felt his hands under your thighs.

He made his way towards the bed before gently dropping you down on it, feeling the tent in his pants become unbearable, almost painful. How could it not, when you lay sprawled out under him, hair messy around your head like a halo, all the while needy breaths escaping your lips?

You knew exactly what you were doing to him, but you wanted to drive him crazy, to make up for all the painful time you’ve spent apart. You started wriggling out of your leggings, your gaze never leaving his eyes. He unbuttoned his own pants before they slid to the ground, revealing a formed tent under his boxers.

Suddenly, he grabbed you by your calves and yanked you closer, forcing a yelp from you. Second after his lips crashed on yours again, making their way down, passing your neck, collarbones, stomach, until they reached their destination.

You found it hard to breathe as he kissed your inner tight, getting closer and closer to where you needed him most.

“Eren,” you whimpered, your eyes closed, hands gripping the sheets. “Please…”

You felt him smile against your thigh before his tongue flicked against your clothed clit lightly, coaxing another high-pitched moan from you.

You put the back of your hand against your mouth quickly, embarrassed at the sudden reaction. You felt the bed shift before you opened your eyes and saw him parallel with your own body again.

“Don’t,” he asked as he removed your arm from your face. “I want to hear every little sound you make.”

He kissed you once before making his way back, hooking his fingers on your panties and sliding them down painfully slowly. The cold air on your skin peppered it with goosebumps, yet when you felt Eren’s face lower to your center, your body ignited once again.

A moan got stuck in your throat as you felt Eren’s slick tongue go all the way from your entrance to your clit, circling it, literally driving you crazy.

“Eren,” you moaned, the back of your head buried into the mattress as you wound your hands through his hair, completely ruining the bun, his chestnut hair falling to the sides and framing his face.

His fingers dug into your thighs as he pleasured you with his tongue, awakening the passion in you that was dormant during his absence.

Eren loved the taste of you on his tongue as he sucked on you, holding down your squirming hips. He knew you were close; he remembers everything your body language tells him.

“E-Eren, I’m gonna—” you choked out, confirming his observations.

You felt cold air hit your slick folds as Eren drew back, quickly discarding himself of his last piece of clothing before he leaned down, planting a sloppy kiss on your lips.

“Ready?” he breathed into your lips, receiving a nod.

The burning sensation followed his dick breaching your entrance, stretching it out after so long.

“Fuck,” he groaned against your mouth, having forgotten just how good your pussy feels.

You choked out a groan as you wound your legs around his waist, urging him to plunge deeper, despite the slight pain that strains you.

“This good?” he asks between his heavy breathing as he makes his way deeper into you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you nod quickly, your voice out of tune.

He finally hits your cervix, staying like that for a few moments, allowing you to adjust, peppering your neck with kisses as your chest rises and falls heavily.

You kiss his lips as you place a hand against his buttocks, urging him to go on. He goes back to the point of pulling out before hitting you deep again, building up his pace as he does so.

Your mind is getting hazier with each thrust – it seemed that the room turned into a sauna as you could almost see the huffs of air that escaped both of your mouths.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he groaned against your ear as he pinned your hand above to your head, intertwining his fingers with yours.

He was barely controlling himself as your pussy clenched around him – he probably never had to restrain himself with you as he does now, regarding the absence of your touch for such a long amount of time. You’ve never been apart that long, and he hoped you’ll never be again.

“Eren!” you screamed, sensing your release fast approaching as you wound your hands around his neck.

He pounded into you hard, bringing some steamy memories of your times before for a moment.

Finally, you fell, arching your back, your stomach gliding against his, as every nerve of your brain exploded. Eren continued thrusting into you until a few moments after you felt his own release spilling inside you.

He moaned against the crook of your neck, planting a few kisses. He rolled to your side and faced the ceiling with his eyes closed, until they snapped open again, hearing you sniffle.

Guilt washed over him like a tempest as he leaned on his side, gently gripping your waist as you covered your eyes with the back of your forearm. “Did I hurt you??”

“No!” you yelped and removed your arm from your face, placing your palm on his cheek instead. For a moment you were so frightened he would blame himself for something he didn’t even do.

“No,” you repeated, more softly. “I’m just really happy you’re here.”

He leaned his forehead to yours, worry leaving his body almost visibly. He sighed as he brought you closer.

You tucked a few of his locks behind his ear, making him look a couple years younger. “I love your hair.”

Eren chuckled, his eyes still closed in the afterglow bliss. “Captain hates it. He said –”

Then it dawned on him. “Wait, how did you get here?” he leaned on his forearm as he looked at you, genuinely interested, amusement threatening to widen his smile any moment.

“I simply asked Captain.”

Eren raised an eyebrow. “And he let you?? Just like that?”

“Well,” you trailed off. “He did mention something about a punishment for insubordination…”

“Unbelievable,” Eren whispered, as he sunk back into the mattress, quiet laughs emanating from his chest, as you drew shapes on it with a stupid smile on your face. “And you still came.”

“I’ll be fine if you visit me at least twice while I’m behind bars?”

You two laughed even harder, and this moment, this tiny moment in the vast space surrounding everything, was perfect.

841 notes · View notes

backtobackbakubabe · 3 years

Text

Speak Easy Part 7

Bakugo x Reader, Dabi x Reader

Words : 3515

Masterlist

*Smutty this chapter*

Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together?

Words with ‘this’ is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.

************************************************************************

“Please… I want to feel something. I need you to- I need you to make me forget, even it’s just for a little while.” His thumb was rubbing over your cheekbone. “Just don’t treat me like I’m fragile. I’m so sick of this numb and broken feeling.”

You knew you weren’t thinking clearly. You knew there was a very good possibility you’d regret this later. But right now… all you wanted was for Dabi to drown out all the thoughts in your head. You wanted to be consumed by him, wanted him to work you over until this numb feeling in your chest went away.

You expected him to be aggressive and he didn’t disappoint. His lips were on you, kissing and biting any skin exposed to him and when that wasn’t enough, his hands literally tore your shirt to pieces. His lips immediately connecting to your collarbone and trailing down. He spoke to you between kisses, his voice husky with need. “Red means stop. Yellow means slow down. Green means good to go. Repeat it back to me.”

He sucked one of your nipples into his mouth and your back arched to push your breasts closer to him. His hand heated up and slapped the tit that wasn’t currently in his mouth. “I said repeat it back to me.”

You sucked in a breath, “Red i-is stop.” His hand came down to tease your clit through your underwear. “Y-yellow is slow down.” He started to rub firm circles, making you moan in appreciation. “Green is-“ He began to suck a bruise into your neck.

“Green is what?”

A tear ran down your cheek. “Green is… AH! Good!”

“Good girl.” He pulled your underwear down your legs and it wasn’t until then that you remembered your period. You weakly started to push his hand away as it traveled up your thigh. “I haven’t forgotten y/n. I also don’t care. I’ve blood on my hands before.”

He shoved two fingers into your sopping entrance and started to pump them in a hard but slow pace. He had only just begun, and you were already beginning to feel blissed out. You didn’t know how pent up you had been until he had you unraveling at even the slightest touch.

Your nails dug into his shoulder which had him chuckling. “Oh baby… I haven’t even gotten started yet and you’re already losing your mind.” His fingers quickened their pace and his other hand grabbed the hair at the back of your head forcing you to look at him. I want those eyes open and on me.” You shivered at the sound of his voice. It wasn’t a suggestion. “Do you understand?”

You nodded your head as you stared into his blue eyes. Afraid your voice would give away how desperate you were. He wasn’t satisfied with that though. He tugged on your hair, “Use your words, I want to hear that sweet voice of yours.” He put his forehead on yours his nose brushing against yours. “Now let’s try that again… Do you understand?”

You whined as his fingers started to slow down. “Y-yes..”

“Yes… what?” His lips ghosted over yours while the palm of his hand began pressing into your clit.

“Yes sir…” Your fingers twisted into his white hair trying to pull him closer to you to close the distance between your lips.

He didn’t budge. Keeping his lips right on top of yours but not touching. “A little louder baby I can’t hear you.”

You could feel your orgasm starting to build and your eyes instinctively closed as you let your head fall back against the mirror. A needy moan slipping past your lips.

Dabi growled and bit your nipple hard, pulling on it with his teeth. Your eyes shot open and you screamed. “YES SIR! Ah… Dabi

He cooed in your ear, “Shhh, such a quick leaner. Look at you fucking falling apart on just my fingers.” He curled his fingers making you gasp in pleasure as he managed to hit that spot over and over again. “Good girls get to cum. Have you been a good girl y/n?”

You were panting now, tears leaking out of the corner of your eyes. “Yes! Oh god please let me come daddy!”

The sound that left Dabi’s lips was practically feral. “Daddy huh? Well Daddy is going to fucking ruin this pussy. After I’m done with you, no one else will be ever be good enough. I’ll make you cum again and again until the only though in that empty little head is ‘thank you daddy’.” His fingers picked up the pace and you felt yourself tighten around them.

“That’s it baby. Show daddy how much you like it. I want to hear how much you love Daddy’s fingers!”

You cried out as you felt your orgasm take over. Waves of pleasure taking over you. You didn’t even know what words left your mouth as you babbled in bliss.

You felt Dabi’s body heat tear away from you momentarily before hearing the shower turn on. Before you had time to react you were scooped up into his arms and he was walking you into the hot spray. You didn’t know when he had, had time to take his clothes off but here he was buck ass naked pulling your back to his bare chest.

There was a seat in there that he had gotten for you. He took a seat and pulled you into his lap. His lips found the juncture where you shoulder met you neck. One of his hands came up to fondle you tit, fingers tweaking your nipple while the other squeezed your hip. “Color?”

You leaned back into him letting your head rest on his shoulder, “Green.”

The hot spray of the shower was hitting your chest and abdomen. You hummed in pleasure as he continued to lavish your neck in kisses.

Then with absolutely no warming he was shoving himself into you in one long hard thrust. The only hint of patience being when he stopped to let you adjust to his size. You screamed and your nails dug into his thighs. “That’s it let me hear you.” He slowly dragged his cock out to the tip before slamming you back on top of it. It was almost painful but in the best kind of way. “Let me hear that sweet little siren song huh? Let me hear the voice that’s so powerful it had a whole hero agency scared shitless.” He thrust into you again his lips at the shell of your ear. “I want to hear the voice that make men crumble to their knees… and I want to know that it’s singing my praises.”

His pace was slow but aggressive. You could already feel your second orgasm building and you couldn’t hold back your moans even if you tried. They only spurred him on.

Suddenly he was standing and flipping you around, so you were bent over holding the chair for support. His hips snapped into you as he picked up the pace. A hot hand came down on your ass cheek before snaking down to your front and playing with your clit again. “Ah fuck… yes. Thank you daddy. Please don’t stop! I’m gonna I-I’m gonna… AH!”

“You’re doing so great baby. You take my cock like you were made for it. No one could take this cock like you do. You’re so good… Cum for me. Come on you can do it, I know you can.”

You rockers your hips back into him a few times before gasping as you started to clench around him. “Oh baby you’re so fucking tight. God you feel so good.” You came even harder than you had the first time and felt your arms give out. You would have fallen forward if Dabi hadn’t caught you.

“Oh no baby doll. I’m not done with you yet… I heard all things, good or bad, come in threes… So, what do you say?” His dick that was still in you twitched. “Think you have another orgasm in you?” He chuckled when you only whined in response. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He pulled out of you only long enough to turn you around to face him. You couldn’t stop your eyes from roaming over his naked body as this was the first time you had seen it. You thought you saw something that looked like insecurity briefly flash in his eyes, but you didn’t have enough time to ponder it because he was manhandling you once again.

He leaned your back against the shower wall lips finding yours. His fingers ghosted a trail from the side of your breast, down you side, until he reached your knee. He hooked a hand under it before pulling it up until your ankle was resting over his shoulder. He continued to kiss you as he repeated this process to your other leg.

The stretch in your muscles was bordering on uncomfortable as he basically folded you in half like a fucking taco. You didn’t have time to complain though as he thrust his throbbing dick back into you.

It was softer this time though. His forehead leaned on yours as he slowly fucked into you. “What’d I say about keeping your eyes open sweetheart. I need you to look at me. Now open up those pretty eyes for me huh?”

You bit your lip and blushed as you looked into eyes. “Oh no need to be shy now.” His hand came up to push some of your wet hair out of your face. “You are so-“ His hips started to stutter a little. “Fucking perfect.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “I don’t want you to ever feel like you are broken, or weak. You are a fucking fighter, you are so strong.”

A broken moan left his lips and you could tell he was almost at his limit. He began to eratically pump into you, hitting that hidden spot inside you every… single… time.

“Please Dabi, I can’t. It’s too much!” You struggled to keep your eyes open but you somehow managed.

“Yes you CAN! COLOR?”

Your hands gripped into his shoulder and you accidentally activated your quirk. You closed your eyes before you could connected with his thoughts, but there was nothing you could do about the skin to skin contact. You were hit with not only your own pleasure but his as well and it immediately overwhelmed the both of you. It was like an endless cycle of pleasure feeding into each other.

“Oh my FUCK! GREEN, GREEN, GREEN! SHIT GREEN!” Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your legs shook violently with your intense orgasm.

He growled loudly as he released inside of you. “Shit I’m cumming. You took me by surprise you fucking naughty girl.” He pumped into you a few more times before stilling inside of you.

The only sound for the next few minutes was that of your labored breaths. His fingers traced patterns into your skin. You hissed when he finally pulled out of you. He put you feet back on the floor but had to keep his hands on you to keep you steady.

He reached behind him and grabbed a bottle of body wash. You felt like putty in his hands. Letting him clean you while massaging your sore muscles. It wasn’t until the water started to grow cold that he wrapped you in a towel and carried you back to your room. You fell asleep sometime after getting dressed for bed. The weight of the past few days finally lifting off of your shoulders.

****

Dabi pulled your sleeping form on top of him slipping his warm hands on your lower back, much like he had the other night. You nuzzled into his neck and sighed. Your small hands gripping his shirt in your sleep.

Later that night he stared at the ceiling as his fingers carded through your hair. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew he didn’t need to read too much into what had just happened between the two of you. You had literally asked him for a distraction. If that’s what you needed, then he’d gladly give it to you. He just hoped you didn’t regret it.

He knew this was temporary. He knew soon enough you’d leave here and end up with someone like Bakugo. The thought left a bad taste in his mouth. He saw the way you looked at each other. There was history there that he couldn’t ignore. Part of him knew you deserved to have someone like Bakugo at you side.

He couldn’t afford to let himself get too attached to you. He was already too close. Any closer and he would never let you leave. He needed to be careful.

The next day you woke up to an empty bed, which surprised you because you almost always woke up before Dabi… Oh shit Dabi. Your mind replayed last night’s events and you felt your face heat up. You had asked him to make you feel something and he delivered… three times.

You grudgingly rolled out of bed and headed towards the kitchen. The whole way there you practiced what you would say in your head. You expected him to find him sitting in the kitchen with his cocky smirk eating breakfast. You expected sly comments and maybe even an attempt at round 2 on the kitchen counter.

What you didn’t expect was to walk into an empty kitchen. You shrugged thinking maybe he was in his room doing only God knows what.

You headed to the pantry to grab stuff to make breakfast but saw a note written in the most childish handwriting pinned to the fridge.

“Had to run some errands. Try not to die while I’m gone, and don’t leave the house. There’s a phone in the office for emergencies. – Dabi”

You couldn’t stop the feeling of dread that washed over you. He wasn’t here. You were alone. He hadn’t even asked you, he just left.

You nervously made your way around the house checking every single widow and door to make sure they were locked and secured. Your nerves were all over the place. You were definitely giving him a piece of your mind when he got home. You momentarily debated if you should call Katsuki, but after what happened last night you didn’t know if you could face him. You refused to feel guilty for sleeping with Dabi, but you did at least acknowledge that it would hurt Katsuki if he found out, and that made you sad.

You didn’t know what to do with yourself. You hadn’t had a free day to yourself in a very long time. You used to love days like this. You’d usually order a bunch of take out, pop open a bottle of wine and binge watch TV.

Your circumstances might be a little different now. You may not be able to order take out, but you knew Dabi had a wine cellar and a TV. You snooped around the kitchen before you found some frozen pizzas. This had the potential to be a good fay after all. Maybe a break was what you needed. You still had some lingering anger with him about the whole drowning fiasco, and it your frustration only grew with his little disappearing act.

You didn’t know how long to cook the pizza, so you just guessed. You chuckled at the thought of Dabi coming home to you burning the house down trying to make a pizza.

You took what looked like a very expensive bottle of wine and plopped your ass on the couch. You could watch whatever you wanted, and it didn’t matter because Dabi wasn’t here to be grumpy about it.

You were one pizza, two bottles of wine, and three seasons into your free day, and you were loving it. You hadn’t felt so… normal in a long time.

You were putting a second pizza into the over when you heard the front door slam close.

You held your breath and grabbed the closest thing to you which was a spatula. You held it close to your chest as you slowly rounded the corner. You practically ran straight into a hard wall of muscle. You immediately started swatting at them with a drunken war cry.

“OW! Shit stop it you fucking gremlin it’s just me!” Dabi yanked the spatula from your grasp and used it to swat at your ass. “Seriously you’re in a kitchen full of knives and shit and your first instinct was to grab the spatula.”

You yelped as he swatted at your ass again. “Heyy you’re lucky it wasn’t *hiccup* a knife or I’d ‘ave stabbed you.”

“Oh yeah? I’d be more afraid of you stabbing yourself with how drunk you are.” He took a look around and smirked, “Looks like you’ve had a good day.”

The timer for the pizza went off and you practically jumped out of your skin. “Oh! Pizza! You want some?”

Dabi shook his head, “Unlike you, I’ve had a very, very bad day. I think I’m going to head to bed early.”

Your lip stuck out in a pout, “Oh come ooooooon. You’ve been gone *hiccup* all day!” You lunged at him and wrapped your arms around him. You noticed him wince and you pulled away to see your shirt was now covered in blood… his blood. The sight was nearly enough to sober you up on the spot.

“Dabi! What the hell? What happened?”

He tried to take a step away from you, “Nothing, some of my staples just ripped out. It’s not a big deal.”

You grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up. “Staples my ass! Dabi you’ve been stabbed!”

He groaned, “I’m fine! It’s not even that bad. Just a flesh wound.” The smell of smoke came from the oven, “Please take out the pizza before you burn the house down.”

“The pizza! Shit hold on.” You took a step towards the oven but came back and pointed at him. “Don’t. Move. I’ll be right back.”

He wanted to be irritated as he watched you skip off towards the oven. You were a cute drunk. A stupid drunk, but cute all the same. He watched you reach in to grab the pizza without any oven mits like an idiot, “Y/N! Stop! You’re going to burn yourself.”

He hissed through his teeth as he pushed through the pain to shove you away from the oven. You wobbled a little before your eyes settled back on Dabi. “Oops.” You giggled and put on the oven mits and took out the pizza. It was a little charred in some places, but you didn’t seem to mind. “Okay! Game plan… We eat pizza until I’m not drunk and then I sew you up.”

Dabi took a seat in a high bar stool at the kitchen island and you hopped up on the counter to sit practically between his legs. “That sounds like a terrible idea. I can handle it. I told you it’s not that bad.”

You took a huge bite of pizza, “Well if it’s not that bad then it should be something I can handle then.” Dabi opened his mouth to protest but you cut him off by shoving a piece of pizza in in his face. “Nope! No negotiations. Law number eleven accept help when it’s offered!”

He rolled his eyes as he took the slice from you. “You’re fucking stubborn you know that?”

“I am well aware. Now you going to tell me about how you got stabbed?”

He avoided eye contact and nibbled at his pizza. “Nope. That’s between me and the dumbass who was stupid enough to do it.”

You hadn’t expected him to tell you, but it still irked you that he was hiding things from you. “Law number twelve. No lying.”

Dabi could hear the hurt in your voice and he sighed. “I’m not lying, I’m just not telling you.”

You glared at him, “Not telling me is just a lie of omission!”

He brushed your hair out of your face, “Did you learn that in hero school.”

You pressed your cheek into his hand. “Will you please let me know the next time you decide to leave? It was kind of scary being by myself.”

He felt kind of bad for leaving without saying anything but he couldn’t risk you finding out what he was up too. He gave you a smirk, “Aw did you miss me?”

Your eyes looked into his and without any hesitation, “Yes.”

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. “I’ll compromise with you. I’ll let you bandage my little cut, but I promise it doesn’t need stitches.”

You smiled and tried to hop off the counter. Your equilibrium was still a little off though because you ended up in Dabi’s lap. He smirked, “After all this time, still falling for me huh?”

*******************************************************************

Tags: tags: @falling4fandoms @wifunozomi @here-in-never-land @whore-for-anime@klecksstorys @aurorahoneybuns @theunknownrandom @insane-without-delirium @frenchsfryys @officiallydarkgeek @neofixcs @music-is-all-i-need @katsuki-bakubabe @unadulteratedtastemakerpoetry @dabislittlemouse@aimee1602 @pinkhatlizzy @kunaigirlx44 @nii-sanfucker

150 notes · View notes

arvinsescape · 3 years

Text

Time to Heal.

A/N: A bit of a different sort of writing for me that deals with emotional abuse, whilst i have never dealt with this personally, i know a couple of people who have and if anyone struggles with this or has my inbox is always open.

Summary: Reader finds herself in an emotionally abusive relationship and Tom shows her what real love looks like.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of emotional abuse, one mention of blood and i think that’s everything.

W/C: 2.4K.

You’d always thought that this moment should be one of the happiest in your life but here you were stood in a room full of a people with a man on one knee for you and it all felt wrong. You weren’t happy like you thought you would have been. You wished he hadn’t done this in front of all these people. You wished it wasn’t him asking. The man on one knee in front of you was possibly one of the worst men you’d ever been in a relationship with. He didn’t love you and you knew that but he made you feel like that was the best you were going to get, what you deserved.

It never starts out that way, at first Aaron was lovely, he swept you off your feet when you weren’t expecting it. He took you on lovely dates, he made you laugh and then he started making comments, as soon as he learnt your insecurities he used them against you, he never tried to push them away, no, he made sure they were at the forefront of your mind.

It started at first as being something he would say in an argument, your clingy, you want too much, you’re too emotional. Then he’d apologise, told you he didn’t mean it, his anger got the better of him and every time you’d accept with another piece of confidence, until there was none left. Then his comments became regular until you truly believed what he said.

‘You should just leave him.’ One of your friends had said when you’d worked up the courage to confide in her but you couldn’t. It’s not as simple as that. By the time you’d worked up the courage to tell her Aaron had your insecurities exactly where he wanted them. You weren’t worthy of love or being truly happy. He isolated you from your friends, especially your male friends and that made you feel more alone.

He hated your best friends Tom and Harrison and you didn’t see either of them anymore unless it was at a mutual friends birthday. You’d wanted to confide in them but Aaron had been adamant to make sure you deleted their numbers and that shattered the last piece of confidence you had. It wasn’t like they hadn’t noticed, they texted you until Aaron got so angry he’d taken your phone and smashed it. He apologised and bought you a new one and promised it’d never happen again.

He hated Tom more than anyone else, of course you’d told him in the early stages of the relationship how you knew Tom and Harrison. You and Tom had been in a relationship, you’d grown close to Haz as a result but ultimately Tom’s career was taking off and you’d both made the decision to call it quits before any heartbreak and messiness arrived so you could salvage the friendship. Then three days ago Tom came to see you.

“Tom?” You said as you answered the door. You’d not seen him for a while now so you were surprised to see him at your door.

“I tried calling.” He’d said with a sad smile.

“Sorry, my phone’s switched off.” You tried to laugh it off.

“For the last two months?” He asked. He wasn’t angry, you could see it in his eyes, he was concerned.

“I got a new one, did I not text you?” You tried again.

“Can I come in?” You swallowed thickly as you moved to the side to let him in. Thank god Aaron was out for the day. “Harrison tried calling too.” He said as he watched you boil the kettle, your back to him.

“I’ve been busy.”

“Lucy called me. Said she’s not heard from you either.” You almost dropped the teaspoon you were holding. You’d not seen Lucy since you told her about Aaron. You didn’t say anything so he continued.

“She told me some things Y/N. About what he says to you.” He grasped your hand turning you to look at him but you couldn’t meet his eyes.

“He just gets angry sometimes.” You used Aaron’s words.

“He shouldn’t say things like that to you, it’s not right.” You still couldn’t meet his gaze. His hand was still holding yours as he drew soft circles into the back of it with his thumb. You missed his touch.

“He usually apologises.” You tried to defend him.

“Doesn’t make it right love. You deserve so much better than him.” He used his free hand to lift your chin so you were forced to look at him and the look of concern in his eyes was enough to bring tears to your own.

“I don’t though.” You whispered and you watched as something shifted behind his eyes, he looked heartbroken. Your tears fell for the first time in months, you’d became so numb to Aaron’s words that they didn’t make you cry anymore but the softness in Tom’s tone had tears streaming down your face.

He pulled you into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you and let you cry into his shirt. He placed the occasional kiss to the top of your head as his hands rubbed up and down your back in comfort. You stayed like that for at least ten minutes before you composed yourself but you stayed in his arms. It felt as safe as it always had.

“You deserve to be loved properly darling.” He said into your hair.

“But he’s right I’m too clingy, I’m too emotional and I expect to much from people.” You sniffled.

“You’re not clingy, you give all your love to the people you care about. You’re not too emotional, you wear your heart on your sleeve and that’s never a bad thing. You don’t expect too much from people because you should always seek to have people love you the way you love them.” He pulled you to look at him as he said it and the look in his eyes was so genuine you could tell he meant it.

“Who’s gonna want me now? I’m full of emotional baggage.” You whispered as you let a few more tears fall, voicing the fears as he caught your tears with his thumbs.

“You’re not full of baggage. You’re smart, you’re beautiful, you’re funny and you love with everything you have in you, he doesn’t deserve you.” He gave you a small smile as he spoke. “I could go on for hours about all the amazing things about you.”

“Tom.” You sighed. “I don’t love him but I can’t leave him, I’m scared.” You admitted.

“Has he hit you?” Tom asked and it was so full of concern that a fresh wave of tears made their way down your face.

“No. He broke my phone once but no. I’m scared to leave him because I don’t want to end up alone.”

“You won’t. You’ll always have me and Harrison and Lucy, god the list goes on. We all still love you and we miss you.” He said as he wiped at your tears again. He was being so tender with you and you hadn’t felt that for a long time. You hadn’t felt loved. “You’ll always have me.” He said again.

“Tom- “Your voice broke and whatever you were going to say got caught in your throat.

“I’ll always look after you. I’ll make sure you always have everything you need. I’ll make sure you’re always safe.”

“I still love you Tom.” You admitted as you cried into his chest again.

“I still love you.”

He’d tried to convince you to go home with him that day but something stopped you and you can’t explain what it was and now here you were at Lucy’s birthday party which Aaron had reluctantly let you attend and Aaron was down on one knee for you. You looked around the room as you caught those brown eyes that you loved so much and he was staring right back at the scene unfolding before him. Tears in his beautiful eyes.

“I’ll always look after you. I’ll make sure you always have everything you need. I’ll make sure you’re always safe.”

“I still love you.”

You pulled your hand from Aaron’s as you felt a sort of confidence you’d not had for a long time as Aaron stood, following your gaze.

“I fucking knew it.” Aaron grumbled next to you and your eyes darted back to him. He was angrier than you’d ever seen him before and it frightened you. “Him?” He laughed but there was no humour in it.

“Aaron I’m-” You tried to get out.

“Him? Really? I knew it.” He seethed at you. Everyone was staring. Lucy carefully approached and you watched as Harrison and Tom started to make their way over. As soon as Tom moved it caught Aaron’s gaze and his face twisted into one of pure anger. “Fucking Tom Holland.” He suddenly shouted as he practically ran at him, catching Tom off guard.

As soon as he reached Tom he raised his fist and placed a punch straight to his nose. You almost screamed in shock as you watched Harrison and Tuwaine tackle Aaron to the floor. Tom had stumbled and was holding his nose. It was bleeding. You made your way straight over.

“Tom, oh my god, Tom, are you okay?” You asked as you took his face in your hands. He looked down at you for a second and smiled before nodding slightly and tilting his head back. “Is it broken?” You panicked.

“No.” Tom said as someone handed him a load of tissues. Aaron’s laughter pulled you from your concern over Tom. You twisted round to look at him as Tom snaked an arm around your waist and pulled your back to his chest. Aaron was stood now, Harrison and Tuwaine were still ready to jump to the defence again if they had to.

“You,” he started as he pointed at you, “are a pathetic little bitch who pines after a man who’ll throw you away as soon as someone better comes along and that won’t be hard to find.”

“Watch your mouth.” Harrison warned as he stood in front of you. Tom had recovered now, stopping the bleeding. Aaron laughed again as he made his way towards the exit.

“You know what Tom, you’re welcome to her. She’s a frigid little fucker anyway. Doesn’t put out often.” He said as he laughed. You watched as anger flared in Tom’s face. He let go of your waist as he went to follow him. You tried to grasp his arm but he was too quick. Harrison stepped in.

“Tom, she needs you.” He said as he gestured towards you. Everyone was still staring at what had just happened and it made you self-conscious as you wrapped your arms around yourself. Tom’s anger died down instantly, Haz was right, you needed him.

“Come on.” He said as he took your hand and led you into the women’s bathroom. Once he made sure no one was in there, he locked the door and took your face in his hands.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly and you laughed sadly.

“Me? He bust your nose.” You said as you grabbed a few paper towels, wetting them and cleaning the blood that was still on his face.

“Worth it.” He laughed lightly.

“I’m so sorry Tom.” You sighed after a few moments as you felt tears brim your eyes, throwing the paper towels away once you were satisfied he was clean.

“You have nothing to apologise for. He’s a dickhead and I’ll make sure he never comes anywhere near you again.” He said as he ran his fingers through your hair.

“I’m still sorry though.” You sighed.

He didn’t reply, he leant forward and placed a soft kiss to your forehead, then your cheeks before finally connecting your lips. It felt to good to feel his lips against yours again, you’d missed him. Missed all the love he gave and it made you cry again.

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m gonna make it better, I promise.” He pulled you back into his chest and it filled you with a comfort you’d not had since he last held you like this.

“I love you.” You said.

“I love you too. I’m sorry we didn’t try and work through things last time. I know we wanted to salvage a friendship but I never stopped loving you. I want us to try again but when you’re ready.” He said as he kissed your head.

“I am Tom.” You said.

“No love you’re not. What he’s done to you needs time and you need to give yourself some time darling. I’ll still be here every step of the way but you need to heal yourself first, okay? We need to push those insecurities back but we need to do it properly, you need to love yourself again first.”

You thought about what he said for a while. He was right, jumping straight back into a relationship was not the best idea, no matter how much you loved him and he loved you. You needed to take some time for yourself, heal yourself and build back your confidence. You understood what he meant; he was still going to be there but he was going to be there as a best friend would.

You realised in that moment what it meant to truly love someone. He was being selfless so that you could heal, he was giving you time because that’s what you needed and he was doing that because he truly loved and cared for you.

“You’re right.” You nodded.

“I’ll still be here, still be there for you, I promise. It’ll take time but that’s okay, I’ll still be waiting but you have to promise you’ll take all the time you need.” He said as he placed a kiss to your forehead.

“I promise.”

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland x y/n

175 notes · View notes