#telling me I have to ‘get out of this slump’ bc life is harsh and I need to get used to it

[dumbdollii]

SOON AS I GET HOME

pairing ! ━━ plug!dabi todoroki  x  sneaky!link! black!reader

cw ! ━━ minors do not interact. reader is black and thick coded, getting high w/ dabi, high!dabi slutting you out on the couch, pet names, mentions of nudity, dabi taking pics of u slumped out :((, breeding, sharing smoke by kissing with plug!dabi, fingering with his dick still inside, teasing.

note ! ━━ axe had me snickering Abt this au n now I'ma write abt it bc God knows how much she loves her lil burnt man.

"dabi, I'ma need to get put on with sum'. Its rough out here and you're my only hope." You said over the phone, heavy silence filled the phone, dabi laughing quietly. "You really are somethin', princess. 'ight, I'll give you somethin' good. Just wait outside your door, I'ma be out there in a lil while." He scoffed out, hanging up the phone as soon as you were gonna respond to him. 11:25 PM, that was the time you left the house and waited outside with nothing but some shorts, a sleeve shirt, and your bonnet. As the cold, silky wind hit your legs, look who dropped in, Dabi. He drove up to your block, already smoking a blunt with the shiny, tinted windows down.

"finally! Your ass took too fucking long..I'm freezing out here." Your tone sounded annoyed, considering dabi had you stand outside for a whole hard minute. "Relax princess, be happy I came just in time to see your pretty ass," He said as he parked the car and came out. Givin' your ass a slight slap, you jumped up a bit in pain and slapped his hand. "Harsh, but ight'." "nigga please don't start, what's harsh is that hairline of yours." You said as you laughed out loudly, he wasn't having it and scoffed. "Yea, right."

You walked to the front door and opened it, swiftly moving your body to the couch. With you bein' all bothered you started sighing and held your hand out, looking up at him with curious eyes. "Oh. My apologies. here you go, doll." "Thank you, roki." He throws you the bag, opening it and rolling up a blunt. His eyes widened at The nickname, surprised you'd even use his last name as a silly nickname for him. A few moments passed and you were already all up on Dabi, laying on his big, muscular frame.

Both of you were both heavily high and everything was like euphoria all over again. "I wanna try something new, roki." You whined in his ear. "Oh yea? Like what, rubbing your pussy all over me or what." "No, what? I-" he stopped you from speaking. "Actually, don't even tell me. I wanna try somethin' new with you," While he still was smoking the fuck out the blunt he had in his hand he kept the smoke in, kissing you in the process and letting it out into your mouth. Your body stiffened and the strong smoke rested in your mouth, kiss after kiss it was sloppy. The smoke came out through your nose with a stern huff. "fu..roki...~" You said, moaning out to him. "Damn princess, your moans are just as cute in real life then on the phone." And that's when he pulled away. Your body was so blissed out from the kiss, feeling a wet pool in your panties.

you really were never fond of dabi todoroki. He was always teasing you as a kid, and to see how much he changed, how much he longed to want you ; really did shock you back into reality. "Was that even...did you just put that in my- oh my god." He laughed in response. "What? Too shocked about what the hell I did to you? Don't worry, I know you wanted it Y/n. Let me slut that pretty pussy out, promise I'll make it your while, doll."

"you? Make my while? How bold of you Dabi Todoroki. I wouldn't hear your brother sayin' this shit at all. I'm surprised twice didn't come pop a damn cap in ya' ass." You said with annoyance. "Ohh, you wanna be funny, huh? Yea. I'ma make you moan then you gon' stop laughing." Obviously you didn't take that seriously, but knowing him it would be impossible to turn down an offer like this. "Soon as I get home you gon' miss my dick thrusting into you." You gulped. "Uhuh...yea."

Not even a moment after that happened you wouldn't expect yourself to be underneath him, being so submissive for him and moaning. Your tits bouncing back and forth while he slut you out on the same very couch you guys sat on. His fingers were still inside you from fingering you a while ago, thrusting harder into your tight cunt. "Goddamn, this pussy all mine, got that? All fucking mine. Sooner or later you'll learn to take my size every time I come to visit." Groans and huffs were heard from dabi, his body was shaking slightly while he fucked into you. He grabbed you thighs, throwing them over his shoulder and kissed your inner thighs with ease as you squirmed and huffed.

"Pl-please..ah!..I fucking h..hate you..~" "Hate me? Nah baby, you fuckin' love me. Don't be so stubborn when you're the one clamping around my dick like a bitch outta heat." His tone darkened. Nothing made him more horny then to see your pretty body on his, oh how he longed to touch you. You were just so...beautiful, how could he not resist making you have sex with him just this once? "Heh..~ look at you, drooling all over yourself and cryin' like a baby. Want me to take my fingers out, my lil' baby? Don't wanna squirt all over me?" Humiliation. The way he made you feel embarrassed only turned you on in the slightest second.

he pulled his phone out, knowing you were about to reach your climax soon. "Augh~! Shit...! Can-t, 'm gonna cum!". He felt your pussy flutter around his dick. Letting out a stern moan with it, he also felt himself coming to a halt. "Fuck..Y/n..shi...c'mon! cum on this dick, tryna feel your pussy all on me." You whimpered in response, now you know not to bet this nigga on anything.

You finally came, and so did he, but inside you. While trying to focus on your breathing he took his fingers out, and took his dick out too. Cum seeped through your needy hole, and that's when he took a picture of it. Taking videos and pictures of him teasing your pussy while you were blissed out, rubbing your clit while recording just to see his cum flow out. "Shit, honestly you did good. 'hope you alright though. Maybe this should be a daily thing." You finally had the strength to get up and dabi was already getting ready to clean you up. "Daily thing? Whew boy..you got something coming if u think this is gonna be something daily. I'ma miss you coming over though." You said as a stifled laugh left your throat and he rolled his eyes, ignoring you. "Yea, I'ma miss you too, princess.

all works ©NEKOWEB. Do not Plagiarize , redistribute , or post my work as your own, that will get an instant block.

#mha x reader #mha smut #dabi x black!reader #plug!dabi

[a-very-fond-farewell]

.

#keeping it real for a bit #tw for negativity and general thoughts on anxiety and grief #stay away if these things bother you #look after yourself #here I go.... #so. my anxiety has gotten worse and I cannot breathe #I can take only tiny puffs of air in quick succession and that’s it #my family is dealing with another emergency and it’s very possible that we’ll be mourning very soon #it would be the third time this year #my parents are basically freaking out and dealing with my issues not in the healthiest way #telling me I have to ‘get out of this slump’ bc life is harsh and I need to get used to it #bc they cannot handle 2 crisis at the same time. and I’m obviously young and healthy so I should just get on with the program #(they are telling me this in a positive tone... but their wording choice could be improved) #it’s not just this emergency that’s bothering me. I’ve been in a bad place since last year and my body cannot hold up anymore apparently #my parents are confused bc I was faking being fine so well they hadn’t even caught a whiff of my situation #I feel guilty bc our relative’s deteriorating health is clearly more important and I feel like I’m a burden #moreover. I’ll soon have to take sleeping meds again bc I cannot sleep #(I have a bad history with sleeping meds and their side effects so it’s also a bit triggering for me. but I’m fine) #the only free time I had for my hobbies was during nighttime... so I won’t have that anymore #I’ll write my fics when I will be able to. maybe I can squeeze some free time in between uni work... but I’m not sure #sorry for the negativity in the tags #this is not a call for help #nor me asking for suggestions #cake care of yourself in the meantime #sneaky niki

[sugawarassoulmate]

Hi Peach! 🍑 I hope you are doing well and safe! I was just wondering if we could switched things up, how would loser kuroo would be if he was jealous? Will he fucked the reader hard and be possessive at that moment? Like let his dom out for a day? I just wanna see our loser being jealous 😭🥺

putting these two together bc they were similar!

words: 814

cw: fem!reader, jealousy, college, parties, insecurity, loser!kuroo is jealous!!!!, oblivious reader, minors dni

i can see loser!kuroo getting jealous but in a completely different way than reader does. you see, kuroo doesn’t feel the need to monopolize all your time nor does he get upset if he sees you talking to some other guy. kuroo knows how you feel about him and he’s confident that another person won’t get in the way of that

but….that’s doesn’t mean he isn’t bothered by some of the “friends” you have

you and kuroo ran in different crowds—he’s on the volleyball team and the science club and gets the top marks in all his classes. you’re barely passing by, showing up to class late (if at all) and spending every other weekend going to parties in the frat house to get drunk with your friends

kuroo grimaces when he thinks about those scummy guys coming onto you or worse. but kuroo doesn’t get invited to those parties unless you drag him along, so some nights he’s in his dorm hoping you’re okay

you’re gorgeous, kuroo would be stupid to think that there aren’t others on campus who are interested in you (bitchy attitude aside)

it doesn’t help that you’re just so stupid and can’t notice when someone is making a move and what’s kuroo suppose to say?? he’s not your boyfriend (as much as he wants to be)

does he get possessive? i wouldn’t go that far but i can definitely see kuroo letting his jealousy get the better of him sometimes

“i don’t think you know how pretty you are, kitty,” he mumbles in the crook of your neck but his soft words are drowned out by your cries. kuroo was sending you over the edge with every harsh snap of his hips. he must have made you cum three times at this point, chuckling at how sensitive you are with how your cunt tightens around him. this isn’t a punishment, oh no. kuroo isn’t upset at you, he just wants to remind you why you keep coming back to him. why he’s the one that warms your bed almost every night.

kuroo isn’t a jealous person, but it does bother him when these low-life frat guys think they can talk to you a certain way as if they have a right to you or your body. it’s frankly disgusting and you’re too oblivious to see it. usually when someone bothers you, it’s pretty easy for you to tell them to fuck off, but these guys are your friends, so you say. you can’t see that all they want is to bring you into their bed and have their way. but kuroo won’t let that happen, even if it means being your shadow at some party where he doesn’t know anyone. “everyone wants you but you like me best, right?”

“yes!” you sob, body shaking when his long cock hits that sweet spot inside you. “tetsu, i can’t—i can’t come again…” you’re gasping for air, holding onto his shoulders for dear life.

kuroo’s almost spent too after he’s ignored his own release this whole time. “just one more, one more for me, please?” his thumb circles your clit and every expletive under the sun leaves your mouth as you cum on his cock once again, spasming around his length and slumping forward. “thank you, baby, thank you, thank you…” kuroo praises, finally reaching his own high.

you groan when kuroo comes inside you, filling your pussy to the brim. kuroo hovers over you for a while, admiring your fucked out face and pressing kisses anywhere he could reach. he feels a little foolish for getting so worked up tonight. one of your friends had his arm wrapped around your waist, whispering something in your ear. from the look in his eye, kuroo could tell his intentions weren’t pure. it sparked something inside of him that he didn’t know was there and before he knew it, he was dragging you out of the house and back to his dorm. you were pissed at first, and rightfully so, but the second kuroo got his hands on you, all that anger seemed to melt away.

“the fuck you looking at?” you grumble, snapping kuroo from his thoughts. you squirmed underneath him as his cum seeped out of you. “clean me up, idiot.”

kuroo smiled at your words, kissing you before puttering around his room to clean you up. once he’s done he takes his usual spot next to you, pulling your smaller form to his chest. “what got you so worked up today?” you ask, dozing off to sleep as you curl up to kuroo.

he didn’t know how to answer. if he admitted that he was jealous, your teasing would be merciless. “i just think this is better than some stupid party,” he says. that seems to be a good enough answer as you fall asleep in his strong arms.

©sugawarassoulmate 2021 all rights reserved - please do not repost/translate my work on other platforms!

#haikyuu #haikyuu smut #kuroo headcanons #kuroo tetsurou smut #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo #kuroo tetsuro smut #kuroo imagine #kuroo smut #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #loser!kuroo #haikyu #haikyu smut #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #🥀 #🥀kuroo

[lacheri]

Okay so... you might not even take requests but I’ll give this a shot anyway bc I love everything you write. I fucked up at work big time today and I feel tremendously anxious and guilty. Which made me think... Levi scenario with gf reader messing up on the field? I know he’d prob be harsh af at first but maybe... some fluff in the end? ): only if you want ofc.

hi nonnie! sorry for taking a few days to write this! but I hope u like it <3 (sorry to hear about your bad day btw ):)

accidents and apologies

pairing: dom!Levi x sub!fem bodied reader

content: canonverse, impact play, mild choking, penetrative sex, unprotected sex/creampie, oral (f receiving), some humiliation/degrading, reader is clumsy and Levi is mean, minors DNI

wc: 3.2k

Fat tears sat in thick clusters on the brim of your lash line, a hiccupping sob racking your body. You were as good as dead, having possibly made the biggest fuck up of your military career thus far. Titans seemed like ants in comparison, the fly that buzzes by your ear that irritates you to no end. Levi’s odm gear sat in pieces on the floor, and somehow this loomed over you like the Colossal titan, maybe even larger.

The polish container sat forgotten on your captain’s desk, the wipe slipping from your trembling hands. Your bottom lip quivered, your lungs filling with air quickly as you slumped to the floor next to the shattered metal. Your off duty position of being Levi’s assistant was practically over, it had barely even begun. You had begged for this job for weeks now, only a few days into being his helping hand, you reflected on how poorly of a job you’d done.

It wasn’t enough you had gotten Levi’s tea wrong this morning, adding sugar to the steaming mug, thinking he’d like a change in taste. He didn’t, immediately spitting the liquid out, cursing you into guilt on the spot. To try to make it up to the ravenette, while he was on his lunch, you sat at his desk and began to organize his paperwork by date of importance. You felt pride as you finished with the three piles of stacks, putting fresh ink in his pot for his quill. However, Levi was horribly furious to see what your regret had manifested into. How were you supposed to know he liked his documents organized by date of assignment, not what was most important?

This was the cherry on top, Levi leaving for dinner, mentioning that his gear did need some polishing. Surely, you wouldn’t fuck this up, he thought as he closed the door to his office behind him. How wrong the man had been though. Within minutes, your fingers became slippery, losing your grip on the cold metal as watched in horror as it clattered to the floor, breaking on impact. It didn’t make much sense, how could it have broken? Wasn’t the gear meant to outlast a titan’s grip? Especially Levi’s trusty gear, you couldn’t fathom how his gear was now laying in pieces on the floor.

You sucked back your sob as you heard the creek of the door, your heart falling straight down to the pit of your stomach. Of course Levi would be back before you recite your apology a thousand times over in your head. You heard the thud of his boots hit the floor as he walked over, seemingly calm.

“Oi, what are you doing on the floor?” he barked out, you could feel his presence looming from behind you.

You turned your head up, his face blurry from the rush of tears in your eyes, “Sir, I am so sorry.”

His grey eyes flickered in front of you, finally taking notice of his broken gear. His lips twitched in a deep frown as he sucked in air through his nostrils harshly.

“Get up, cadet,” Levi spoked venomously, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

You hurried to your feet clumsily, trying your hardest to quell your cries from your throat. You faced him, head downturned, attempting to steady your racing heart rate and the tremors in your bones. Whatever control you thought you had slipped from your grasp the second your captain’s lips parted.

“Never in my life have I met someone as insolent as you,” the harshness of his words kept your eyes on his boots, fresh teardrops rolling down your cheeks. Levi was not going to speak to the crown of your head though, and his hand gripped your chin to force your eyes up, looking directly into his own. “You’re going to look at me while I talk to you, understood?”

You nodded, but this was not what Levi was searching for, “Your words, cadet.”

“Yes, sir,” it came out of your mouth as a squeak.

“You want to explain to me why my odm gear is broken?”

“It slipped,” you hiccupped, violently shaking under his fierce glare. “I couldn’t catch it in time. Captain, I’m so sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” he bemused darkly in disbelief. “This is the third time today you’ve fucked something up, and you’re just sorry?”

“I don’t know what else to say,” you were on the verge of hyperventilating as you stuttered your words out.

“Well, now you owe me new gear, and you’re going to personally pay for the expense,” Levi’s hand left your face as he backed away from you, sitting down at his desk.

You looked on in confusion, “Sir, I don’t have any money?”

“Then I guess you’re fired,” Levi tilted his head back as if bored now with the conversation. “You’re relieved of your military duties as well. We can’t afford to have someone as brainless as you in the Scouts.”

“Captain, please,” you raised your voice, arms wrapping around yourself to contain your shaking.

Levi’s eyes darkened, leaning forward to press his elbows on his desk as he leaned his head onto his intertwined fists, “Leave my office, now.”

This couldn’t be happening. You had no home to return to, having left it behind long before you joined the Training Corps. This was your life, your purpose, your friends were here. You finally felt like you had a place in the world here in the Scouts.

“I’ll do whatever I have to!” you begged, not moving a muscle. “Whatever I can do to stay!”

“Are you deaf or just an idiot?” Levi pushed onto his feet, striding over to stand right in your face as he spat. “Leave my fucking office, that’s an order!”

Your bottom lip trembled, and you felt so fucking pathetic but couldn’t stop yourself from one last attempt, “Please, sir. Don’t kick me out, please let me make it up somehow.”

Your brain took a moment to catch up with what had just happened as you were suddenly staring down at the wooden notches of Levi’s desk. He had grabbed your wrists in a fierce swiftness, pushing you face down, his hands now positioned against your spine to keep you in place. His right hand reached around to fumble with your belt, and your heart began to race for other reasons.

“Captain?” you stuttered, feeling him begin to pull off the belts stationed on your thighs.

“You think you can just beg me in that voice, looking like that, and expect me not to lose control?” his voice was thick with anger, but instead of fear, it tickled bouts of arousal in your lower stomach. “Answer me.”

“No?” it came out as a question, you pushed your thighs together as you felt a pulse run through your core as his fingers tickled the exposed skin of your lower stomach. “Sir, I’m confused, what’re doing?”

“Like you have no idea what you do to me,” Levi chuckled without humor. “You begged me to be my assistant even though you knew you weren’t going to be a good one. You think I wouldn’t notice, your little crush on me?”

It was true, so entirely true. Levi had been the object of your affection for such a long time now, taking every opportunity to get as close to the man as possible. If you were being honest with yourself, this fantasy of being bent over his desk was a constant distraction in your mind. He was right, you were shit at cleaning, you were probably the most clumsy person you knew, you really had no qualifications to be Levi’s aide, yet you still asked for the position.

“Then why’d you hire me, Captain?” the bratty words left your lips as it dawned on you, Levi had found you appealing regardless of your lack of qualities.

With a quick motion, your pants and panties were bunched around your knees, Levi’s palm meeting the now exposed skin of your cheek in a caress, “The same reason you’re fucking soaked right now, cadet.”

You stayed in position as Levi brought his other hand to your opposite ass cheek, fingers kneading the fat as he spread you open to his hungry view. He was right, you were dripping. His pointer finger ran down the seam of your ass, laying a soft touch to your hole, watching it flutter in excitement. He couldn’t hold back the smirk on his face, removing his touch entirely.

You whined, pushing your bottom closer to Levi’s hands, desperate for his touch. Your hips were slammed against the edge of his desk, his fingers digging firmly into the back of your thighs, pushing your legs back together. You felt a jarring sting on your backside, yelping in response as you could make out the distinct imprint of each of his fingers.

“You want to show me you’re really sorry?” Levi’s voice was low and raspy as he soothed his palm over the reddened mark he had made. “Tell me after every slap.”

You were able to brace yourself this time as you felt the strike of his hand once more on your opposite cheek, unable to contain your moans at the contact. You squirmed as you felt removal of Levi’s touch leave you, only to bite down on your tongue harshly as he swatted the back of your thighs much harder than he had on your ass.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he spoke ruthlessly as another slap hit your thighs.

“I’m sorry!” you cried, gasping for air from the impact.

“Again,” his hand smacked the fat of your ass again, his other hand smoothing over the harsh red blotches against your thighs in an attempt to soothe the pain.

“‘M sorry!” you were whining, knuckles white from gripping the opposite edge of the desk as you arched your ass up into his hold. Part of you was genuinely shocked over how much you were enjoying this, thoroughly aroused mentally and physically.

Levi couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight in front him. The handprints scattered across your lower half had his cock springing to life, hard and painfully erect. His hands traveled down to your pussy lips, using his thumbs to spread you open. Your hole was drooling, Levi let out a deep groan at the sight. He couldn’t stop himself, he had to have a taste.

You let out a sputtered moan as you felt the tip of your captain’s tongue lick a stripe from your hole to your clit. You pushed your hips further into his touch, thankful he resisted in shoving you back into the edge of the desk this time. His fingers held you open and apart, his taste buds rolling circles into your clit before returning back to your flitting opening, shoving his tongue in your walls. You could feel it fold in half, almost in a cupping motion as he bobbed his head, lapping as much as he could.

“Oh my God,” you whined, thrusting a hand behind you to grasp at his hair. His palms circled to the fronts of your thighs, digging his fingers into the fat as he pulled you somehow closer as he buried his face further into your dripping heat.

You were seeing stars, in between the mix of the pain and pleasure, your brain was completely empty. Levi’s right hand left your left thigh for a moment, coming back with a softer slap, inching his fingers to your center. His pointer finger swirled your clit relentlessly, and your breathing hitched as you were brought to even higher heights than before. His thumb joined not long after, pinching and pulling at your bud as you yelped.

You could feel the beginnings of your impending orgasm as Levi twisted and lapped your walls. The burning churn in your lower stomach became almost unbearable as Levi’s fingers worked faster at your bundle of nerves, full of purpose and intentions. Levi could feel the sudden change, your pussy clenching tighter and tight around his wet muscle. Your arousal was thicker, almost muskier as he inhaled through his nose, and Levi could swear he could drink from your core as if you were the finest of wines.

At the first blinding rush of pleasure, your body preparing itself for the intense promise of release, the ravenette removed all touch. You were gasping for air, your entire body’s nerves tingling uncomfortably. You were aching, desperate for anything.

“Look at you,” the return of Levi’s palm slapping your ass was welcomed with a smile on your face, thankful for any form of touch. “Falling apart that easy?”

You mumbled out a 'sorry', remembering his earlier warning. Apparently this was the word Levi was searching for, spinning you around and attaching his grip to your hips, slamming your sore ass on his desk, shoving his paperwork to the floor. Your eyes widened dramatically, seeing Levi’s cock fully exposed out of the zipper of his trousers. He was thick, his tip red and angry as he moved his fist over his length, a quiet groan leaving his parted lips as he relieved some of his own pent up arousal.

“Open,” he demanded, removing his hand from his dick, extending his palm to your pouty lips. You complied, letting your mouth loll open as Levi’s fingers pressed against your tongue, rolling them around to coat his digits.

He pulled them out with a pop from your lips, returning his now dripping hand to his erection, covering the entire member in your saliva. He gripped the backs of your knees after he deemed himself properly lubed up, dragging you right to edge as he positioned himself.

His grey eyes flickered up, fiery and full of lust, his voice hoarse, “You ready?”

“Yes,” you mewled, your fingers wrapping around the edge of the wood to steady yourself.

Without a moment of hesitation, Levi held your legs up as he slid his fat tip along the slick of your folds. It was so wet, so sloppy, you couldn’t contain the whimper leaving your lips as he pressed into your sopping hole. You could’ve sworn you felt your soul attempt to leave your body as he slid in, resting his tip right against your sweet spot once he was fully sheathed, your eyes rolling back into your skull as the mind blowing pleasure. He hadn’t completed a full thrust before you were begging for more.

“Please, please, more,” you managed out in between gasps, Levi rolling his hips backwards.

“You want more?” he chided, ramming himself so hard, the two of you bounced from the impact. You nodded, unable to voice a single word, drool threatening to escape your lips. His fist left the comfort of your bent knees, coming up to squish your cheeks together, a dribble of spit glistening against your pout, “You’ll answer me when I ask you a question, brat.”

“Yes! More!” you strangled out, muffled from his grip on your face. He let go, placing a very soft pat to your cheekbone, almost as a reward.

“Atta’ girl,” Levi’s gaze turned dark as his eyes traveled from your eyes to the column of your neck. How pretty would you look with his fist wrapped around your throat?

The thought was threateningly persuasive as Levi found himself doing just that, squeezing the sides of your neck as he began to piston his cock between your folds. The sounds of slapping skin and your pussy squelching had you panting loudly, Levi’s fingers pressing harder into the sides of your throat. It felt so good, good wasn’t even the word to describe it. In fact, there weren’t any words in your brain at all, too consumed by the visuals of the ravenette plowing hard into you.

His hand left your throat upon seeing your eyes begin to flutter, his concern for your ability to breathe over taking his lust. Instead, he circled both his arms under your back, bringing you up into a folder position against his chest. He placed open mouth kisses along the curve of your shoulder, licking and sucking at any skin he could reach. Your ankles hooked around his waist, and you couldn’t hold yourself back from slipping a hand to your aching clit.

“Kiss me,” you pleaded into Levi’s neck as your middle finger rubbed hard at your clit, your thick slick coating the pad. You got curious, letting your hand trail further down, exploring the motion of his cock pummeling into you.

“Put your hands on my back, and maybe I will,” he growled out, displeased that he wasn’t the one bringing you total and complete pleasure.

You followed his orders with speed, his head navigated out of the crook of your neck, capturing your lips with a hasty passion. He tasted sweetly sour, the lingerings of your essence resting in the crevices of his lips, but still, you couldn’t get enough of his kiss. When his hand finally left the middle of your spine, and began to travel down to your center, you could feel the bubbles of climax igniting back in your stomach.

“Levi,” you moaned into his mouth as his fingers moved at lightning speed against your nerves, timed nearly perfectly with the pattern of his thunderous thrusts. The desk was squeaking loudly against the floor as he continued to pound into animalistically, moving it slightly with every move.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, gonna’ cum,” you swallowed his words as he somehow sped up his movements, driving you straight to your climax.

You couldn’t even warn him, you barely had time to realize you were cumming yourself. It almost hurt how tightly you had clenched his cock as the pleasure nearly blinded you, unable to hold back swears and moans. Levi kissed you harder, and upon feeling your contractions swallowing him whole, your plush walls pulling his tip right up against your cervix, his hips staggered and his knees buckled.

Levi’s brain went blank as his orgasm was ripped from him, “Fuck, fuck!”

Levi should’ve felt embarrassed at the noises that left his mouth, whimpers and soft moans exiting his throat as he came hard. It was almost too much, the feeling of your wet heat wrapping around his most intimate part, the closeness of your bodies, although still fairly clothed, had his heart hammering in his ears.

When you came down from your highs, all you could was stare at each other in astonishment, breathing heavily into each other’s mouths. He rested his sweaty forehead against yours, fluttering his eyelashes shut as he kissed you gently. You let out a sleepy giggle, your body entirely spent. His hand finally left the sensitive skin of your clit, wrapping your fingers around the back of your head as his kiss deepened.

When he finally slid his softened length out of the depths of your pussy, you were hissing at the fluttering of soreness intruding your pelvis. Levi shot you an apologetic look, kissing your forehead.

“Does this mean I can still be your assistant?” you mumbled, a small smile on your face as Levi reached down to pull his pants up.

His head tilted back as an uncharacteristic laugh bubbled out, flashing you a mischievous smile, “Get yourself cleaned up, and meet me back in my office. I still don’t believe you’re actually sorry.”

LACHERI © 2021: all writing content belongs to LACHERI. I do not allow reposts or translations. this is my only account.

#levi smut #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman smut #levi fanfic #levi fanfiction #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #levi x reader #tw: impact play #tw: degradation #levi ackerman x reader #levi x you #levi x y/n #aot x reader #tw: choking

[donghyuckcuyhgnod]

request: haechan fucking the reader all night in the dorms while he knows Johnny is listening bc he secretly wants to show his hyung that even though he is the youngest and cutest member, he can still fuck her good. 🤌🏻

he’s going to regret that, donghyuck thinks to himself. his eyes bore into johnny’s with a newfound fervor, and honestly, it even caught you off guard.

“i’m not too soft for her,” donghyuck muttered angrily, a pout on his lips as he looked at johnny. his shoulders were slumped, eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed. he hoped he looked intimidating; but with the way johnny shrugged him off with the words, ‘yeah, sure’ accompanied by an amused laugh, had proven otherwise.

you weren’t really sure how this conversation started—your boyfriend had invited you out to dinner with him and his members for a simple night out. the fitted, black outfit you showed up in had your boyfriend drooling almost immediately; which of course, led to the never-ending teasing from his older friends. to be quite frank, donghyuck doesn’t even remember johnny’s words; something along the lines of ‘you’re cute and all, hyuck, but y/n is hot. you’re too soft for her.’

his words made donghyuck’s blood boil, and rightfully so; he certainly begged to differ. especially when he recalls the countless times you’ve screamed his name in bed, fucking you so good that you nearly forget your name. nothing but a jumble of incoherent words are able to escape your mouth, with your eyes rolling in the back of your head as your entire body convulses around his cock.

like right now.

“that’s right, baby. take my cock like a good girl,” donghyuck lowly spoke, his grunts and moans only turning you on more. his pace was purely brutal, his coarse hands gripping your hips so tight that you’re sure he’d leave bruises. your knees had given out moments ago, his vice-like grip the only thing keeping you up. you wonder why or how he had gotten so worked up, but then you remember the conversation between him and johnny earlier. you recall the laughs of the other members at johnny’s words, and suddenly you knew exactly why hyuck was being so rough with you. you tried to conceal your moans, knowing fully well that donghyuck’s members were just down the hall and in the living room. or more specifically, johnny. 

“stop holding your moans in, baby. show them how good i fuck you. show them just how fucking soft i am.” a harsh slap lands itself on your ass, causing your lips to part in a high-pitched yelp. if the boys couldn’t already hear the loud sounds of skin slapping against skin, they definitely heard that. a series of loud, sexy, and uncontrollable moans followed after, pleasing your boyfriend with how vocal you were being. as donghyuck picked up his pace, his small, twin-sized bed was beginning to bang roughly against the wall.

“fuck, hyuck, don’t stop!” you whimpered, chanting his name like a mantra. at this point, you didn’t care how loud you were. not only were you too focused on the way his cock felt inside of you, but hearing your boyfriend’s endless praises made you clench around him. he reached in front of you and began to rub fast, steady circles into your clit. not once did his pace falter, leaving your body to become putty in his rough hands. he let go of your hips, taking hold of your hair and forming a makeshift ponytail. he yanked on it, pulling you up and against his chest as his hips went impossibly faster. you let out a scream of his name, sending a jolt of arousal straight to your boyfriend’s cock as he twitched inside of you.

“fuck!” you gasped as the knot in your stomach quickly began to tighten. you felt overwhelmed in all the right ways, your mind completely buzzed over in pure ecstasy. the only thing you could concentrate on was the way he hit that spot every single time he thrusted into you. you felt your body go completely limp, your eyes rolling in the back of your head, and the only thing keeping you up was his arm around your middle and the hand gripping your hair. you knew that your boyfriend wouldn’t let you cum until you asked; so with a weak voice, you spoke up, “please let me cum, hyuckie.” 

“what was that, sweetheart? i couldn’t quite hear you, you’re gonna have to speak up,” hyuck teased, and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice. you knew exactly what he wanted. usually, you’d put on a show for him and reply with a bratty, snarky remark. but this time, all you could do was comply, desperate for the feeling that only your boyfriend could provide you, sending your body into a buzz of unbelievable pleasure. 

“fuck, hyuck! please let me cum around your cock. you fuck me so good, baby. please,” you shouted out in a desperate beg, completely under his spell. you didn’t care about the others in the dorm, or even donghyuck’s neighbors. your boyfriend seemed more than satisfied with your response and obedience, call for the animalistic groan he let out.

“cum for me, y/n.”

you certainly didn’t need to be told twice. you convulsed around him with a desperate cry, his name coming out of your mouth in an almost blood-curdling scream. your body shook violently around him, the feeling he gave you rendering you a speechless and incoherent mess. your eyes leaked with tears of pleasure, a whimper of his name escaping your lips. 

his own hips began to stutter at the sight of your teary eyes, bruised hips, and even the bright, red handprints imprinted on your ass. you cried at the overstimulation, gripping donghyuck’s bed sheets for dear life. you could tell he was close by the way his moans began to raise in pitch. “cum in me, hyuckie. give it all to me,” you managed to say, and that was all it took for your boyfriend to finally come undone with a cry of your name, his hips slowing down as he released inside of you. you moaned at the feeling of his cum dripping out of you and leaking onto your thighs as he pulled out. 

“fuck, baby. you look so hot like this,” he said, collecting the white, sticky substance dripping down your thighs onto his fingers and pushing it right back into your pussy. all you could do was moan, your body shaking in the afterwaves of your orgasm. donghyuck hummed in appreciation at your sensitivity, rubbing soothing circles on your body in the places where his hands were a little too rough. it was silent for a minute, the only sounds in the room being your heavy breaths; the both of you were completely spent, minds foggy from the pleasure you just experienced.

“okay, i get it! i’ll never say anything like that again. will you guys shut up now?” you heard johnny angrily spit out from the other side of the closed door. you kept silent, only looking at donghyuck’s smirking lips and his proud, shining eyes. 

“i’m glad you learned to keep your mouth shut, hyung. but i don’t think i’m done just yet.”

#lee donghyuck #haechan smut #lee haechan #nct #nct dream #nct 127 #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #donghyuck smut #haechan fluff #lee donghyuck fluff #donghyuck fluff #nct haechan #nct donghyuck #nct dream haechan #nct 127 haechan #nct 127 donghyuck #kpop fluff #kpop smut #haechan scenarios #haechan imagine #haechan blurb #donghyuck scenarios #donghyuck imagines #donghyuck blurbs #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct blurbs #nct dream scenarios

[teawithkpop]

[M] - PhysCom - Pt 7

pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 3 - bc 1 - pt 4 - pt 5 - pt 6 - pt 7

Pairing: BTS - OT7 x Reader

Rating: Mature [18+]

Length: 5.4k words

Genre: PhysCom AU - smut with dashes of angst, and a shitload of romance and complicated feelings,, uhuhu (porn with plot??)

Warnings: swearing, a lot of emotional turmoil, talk of pregnancy scares (birth control, contraceptives, etc.), implied discrimination towards sex workers (not by any of the boys dw), mentions of sexual acts

slowly hands you a cake that says "I haven't updated this fic in 14 months and I don't know when the next part is coming but here's an update thanks for being patient" in comic sans

-------

The rush to the hospital goes by in a blur of tears and shouting and panic and questions that you can't bring yourself to answer. The only constant is Min Yoongi's hand, firmly locked in your own throughout the ordeal, tethering you to reality.

You now sit in a private room on a sterile medical table and wait to be seen, too numb inside to feel the sting of the cold metal as it cuts into the backs of your thighs. Yoongi stands beside you, still holding your hand, his fingers are laced through yours and squeezing as if it could sap away the fear that eats away your insides, leaving you hollow and empty.

"It'll be alright. Don't worry about a damn thing, okay?" He shifts his weight anxiously, betraying his own underlying worries.

You barely remember him throwing his jacket over you before being rushed out of the house, and you don't feel deserving of the modest coverage. Though the leather is worn and soft against your skin, all you can feel is the harsh metallic zipper, scratching at your chest as though reminding you of your wrongdoings.

"Yoongi…" you start to say, but he cuts you off, his voice a hoarse whisper.

"Don't you fucking dare. Don't apologize."

You feel tears well up in your eyes. Your chest grows tight with the words he's forbidden you to say.

"I've already called Namjoon, it'll all be fine. Don't worry." He works his jaw and rubs your hand with surprising tenderness, glancing to the little window in the door every other second.

He's been assuring you with those same words for the past half hour, but it feels like it's been an eternity. As you glance at the clock on the wall, watching the hands tick by, you imagine a scene like that of a health documentary. Tiny sperm, swimming up your insides… fertilizing your previously dormant eggs.

Fuck. You've fucked up.

You might be pregnant with Min Yoongi's child. Your Opticon birth control implant could send you into toxic shock at any moment.

You don't see how things can get much worse than this.

The door finally opens, and what appears to be a nurse steps inside. She holds a clipboard, and examines it while she lets the door close behind her. "Let's see now, Miss..." Her shoulders slump marginally as her eyes reach your name. "Oh, right. The PhysCom."

You don't have the energy to ignore the change in her tone from friendly to disinterested, and simply nod. However, you feel Yoongi stiffen beside you.

The nurse lets out a brief sigh and dons a professional expression. "So, what appears to be the problem?" She directs the question to Yoongi.

"We think her birth control implant isn't working." Yoongi explains, his eyes darting furtively between you and the nurse. "She, um… she reached orgasm."

You flush at the memory, ashamed of your failure to adhere to even the most basic of rules set before you.

The nurse makes a noncommittal noise and jots something down. "Says here it’s an Opticon. And you didn't turn it off, sir?"

He shakes his head.

The nurse touches the end of her pen to her mouth, a note of sympathy forming in her eyes. Not for you, but for Yoongi. "How long have you had her?"

"Excuse me?" Yoongi raises an eyebrow.

The nurse tucks the clipboard under her arm, giving him a weary, patient smile. “With PhysComs, we have a list of probable scenarios we’re supposed to check for, to better inform the doctor of the situation, and speed along the treatment process.”

She barely spares you a glance before returning her attention to Yoongi, her voice lowered just a fraction. “It’s not uncommon for newly hired female PhysComs to try and… well, intentionally get pregnant from their clients. Especially if those clients have any amount of wealth or status.”

Yoongi seems lost for words.

She nods as if to agree with his surprise. “It’s some psychosis associated with the job,” she says with a shrug, then straightens her posture once more. “So has she been acting strangely at all? What are her symptoms?”

Your ears burn a bit at being talked about like you’re not in the room, but this isn’t the first time you’ve been in such a position. Oftentimes checkups during training were the same way, the physicians would speak exclusively among themselves and Madame while they examined every inch of you, inside and out.

Yoongi, however, is not used to such an experience.

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” He says, in a voice much calmer than you would have expected. But one glance at his face tells you all you need to know. His eyes are burning like hot coals. Molten and dangerous.

The nurse doesn’t pick up on his irritation, and busily flips through the pages on her clipboard. “I need reliable information, sir. If you please,” she prompts him.

You can feel Yoongi’s hand clench around yours, and you turn to quiet him.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, hoping to reassure him enough so he’ll talk to her, but he stands his ground, his eyes glued on the nurse.

“Get out,” Yoongi says.

The nurse does a double take. “Excuse me, sir?”

“I said get the fuck out of here.” He points to the door. “Send us someone who will actually help.”

She fumes silently for a moment, but decides not to argue with him, and heads for the door in a huff.

Yoongi scoffs as you two are left alone once more. “What the fuck kind of bedside manner was that supposed to be?” He mutters, staring at the door.

“It’s okay.” You place a hand on his arm.

“No, it’s not.” He’s adamant, and you sigh wearily. How do you explain that this is only what can be expected?

You pick out a few haphazard words from the maelstrom in your brain, too tired to find the best phrasing. “Medical personnel… they don’t really get it.”

“Get what?” He asks, turning to you in outrage. “Being a fucking decent human being?”

You flinch, withdrawing your hand. You’re too tired to try and get your point across. But he notices you wilt and immediately comes closer, lowering his voice and placing both his hands on your arms. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, the edge of anger fading away to gentleness. Kindness. “What do you mean?”

You sigh, looking off to the side. You don’t deserve to have him look at you like that.

You carefully remove his hands, trying to maintain some semblance of a professional distance, even in the face of disaster. “Most hospitals don’t look favorably at PhysComs. We were given a few lectures about it in training. We use up their resources and time that could instead be given to patients who didn’t willingly put themselves at risk.”

You remember how your fellow trainees had reacted after those discussions. Many of them found the treatment to be unfair, but you yourself felt that, in a way, the medical field’s viewpoint was reasonable. Your choices are what landed you here.

“What the- what are you talking about?” He huffs, still seemingly in the dark. “You didn’t ask for this… this scare. It wasn’t your fault.” He tries to meet your eyes, but your gaze is fixed firmly to the linoleum floor.

A mirthless smile paints your lips. “But I chose this life. And these risks along with it.”

Before he can question you further, the door bursts open and Kim Namjoon enters the room, both his dress shirt and his hair are rumpled, and his eyes are frantic. “Sweetheart?” He rushes to your side and crushes you in a hug. “Are you alright?”

You hear Yoongi let out a breath of relief. “She’s okay, for the moment.”

Something about the way Namjoon holds you feels like a lamp being held against your cold skin. You’re too damp inside to light a flame yourself, but his own body warms you from the outside in the meantime. You want to let yourself enjoy it, but the memory of your unresolved questions leaves you limp in his arms, filled with nothing but misery and confusion.

He pulls back after a moment, checking you over for signs of injury. His eyes are wide with concern. “What happened? Tell me everything.”

A flare of shame rises up in you at the notion of telling Namjoon about your rule-breaking and everything that occured since this morning.

Thankfully, Yoongi seems to sense your hesitance, and he fills in most of the pieces for Namjoon. Namjoon’s expression remains stoic as Yoongi recounts what happened - you being brought home unconcious, seducing Yoongi - up until the mention of your orgasm. Namjoon’s jaw slackens slightly at this, and his eyes scan your face, searching for something.

It’s at this moment that the doctor walks in, a different nurse at his side. He’s a slightly older man, a few wrinkles creasing his brow, and a smile that appears kind until it lands on you. His face is then tinged with that same indifference that most medical professionals give you.

You wish it was your usual physician, but since this was an emergency, you didn’t have time to take the trip to your usual practice. Whatever hospital is nearest, that’s what Yoongi had told the driver.

The man turns to Namjoon, who arguably commands more presence than Yoongi, and the kindness returns. “Sorry for the delay. Busy night. From what I understand, your PhysCom has malfunctioned, is that correct?”

“Her Opticon malfunctioned, yes.” Namjoon corrects him. His diplomatic tendencies are a blessing right now. You just want to know if you’re pregnant or not. You want to know if you’re losing your job. You want to go home.

The doctor runs a few physical tests on you, feeling your breasts, peering down your throat, and examining your vaginal canal, checking for any other symptoms of malfunction from your Opticon. “All’s well so far.” He says, pulling his forefingers out of you, snapping off his gloves, and disposing of them. “May I take a look at the ComGear?”

You feel a flash of panic, waking you out of your stupor. Fuck, was it still in the group chat? You pull out the slim device, heart hammering as you check. Nope. Just settings. Thank god.

You hand it over, and then remember with a looming feeling of dread exactly why it might have been left on the settings page...

“You do so much for us, jagiya.” Taehyung keeps his hands braced on your arms, his thumb rubbing gently against your skin. “You’re always there for us. Always giving… Now it’s time for you to receive.”

“I’m sorry! It’s my fault-” Jimin’s eyes fall to your compromising position, Yoongi’s dick still out, your leaking core exposed, and claps a hand over his mouth. He looks like he might cry. “Oh no...”

The pieces fall into place, and there’s no doubt in your mind. They must have switched it off.

But why? Why, why, why…?

The doctor - you’re too frazzled to read his nametag - pulls out a pair of reading glasses and takes a look at your ComGear, poking around the device with his pointer finger. “Hm. Strange.” He squints. “The Opticon does appear to be switched off.”

Namjoon blinks. “That’s impossible.”

“I’m afraid that’s the case.” The doctor shows him the setting, the toggle very much in the off position. Namjoon takes the device and looks at it in shock.

The doctor coughs. “I know that, um… for some individuals, the temptation and the… risk associated with no protection during intercourse can be sexually arousing. It’s not the first time we’ve gotten a case like this.”

He removes his glasses, folding them back into his pocket. “However, I would remind you and anyone else who uses this one’s services that although Physical Companions may be virtually expendable, it can become quite expensive for your own sake to impregnate them on a whim, using and discarding them, what with the standard fees for breaching their contract and-”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Namjoon interrupts him, and you notice the iron grip he now has on Yoongi’s arm. Likely the only thing restraining him from throwing a punch. “We’ll be more careful.” Namjoon glances at you, confusion making a little crease between his brows. “Is there some sort of morning after pill she can take, or…?”

“I’m afraid the lingering effects of the Opticon implant render any outside hormone blockers ineffective.” The doctor says, his smile turning thin. “It’s a bit of a blessing and a curse. The hormone production and ovulation suppressant in the Opticon normally make the chance of fertilization zero percent while in use. After it’s switched off, chances are still fairly low at 30 percent, for up to 24 hours. But the chances of fertilization after taking a morning after pill are significantly lower than that, at only five percent.”

He shrugs. “We’ll just have to wait and see. Chances are, your PhysCom will be right as rain and ready to pleasure clients again in about a week.”

A week.

First a week of suspension on Namjoon’s terms… Now it’s on medical advisement.

“A week? What should we do until then?” Namjoon voices your very thoughts, Yoongi seething silently beside him.

“Well, we won’t have any results until three to five days from now.” The man clarifies. “But I highly recommend you leave the implant switched off and keep her on traditional contraceptives until we know for sure. I strongly recommend utilizing other PhysComs in the meantime, just to be safe.”

You’re finished.

The doctor hands Namjoon a paper bag, most likely containing birth control pills and condoms. “She may be somewhat volatile for the next few days. You can bring her in for another checkup in a week.”

You’re weak.

“Thank you.”

You’re numb.

-------

It was a silent car ride back to the house, and as Namjoon helps you step out of the vehicle, one hand holding yours for stability while the other rests on your lower back, you can’t help feeling utterly useless. Detached from your surroundings.

What’s the point of any of this now? There’s no way they’ll want to use you until this is resolved. You’re of no use to them as a sex toy until at least a week from now, and by then it’ll be far too late to earn their favor back.

“We need to have a meeting. Call the others into the living room.” Namjoon speaks to Yoongi in an undertone, and you feel a small ache of hope. Maybe things will work out if everyone just talks to each other.

But when you enter the house and Namjoon begins to steer you upstairs, you finally find your voice.

“No.” You resist against him, turning around at the base of the stairs. “No, I want to be part of the meeting.”

The surprise quickly fades from his face, instead turning to concern. “You need to rest."

Something about the look on his face, about being told yet again through his actions that this doesn’t concern you, it causes something inside you to snap, your apathy vanishing in the wake of this new beast beginning to rear its ugly head within you.

Your throat closes up and a scream erupts from your aching chest. "You don't know what I need!"

Namjoon matches your desperation with an infuriatingly patient look of sympathy. He approaches you, his hand outstretched, but you stagger back away from him. He smiles sadly and drops his hand. "Stay here. It's what's best for you."

What's best for you.

The words throb in your mind, like the memory of an old wound. They bounce listlessly off the walls of your grandiose prison long after Namjoon shuts the door, sealing you away again.

You don't know what comes over you as you see visions of launching yourself at the door, pounding and scratching at the wood like a wild animal.

You could just open the door and follow him downstairs. Some part of you does register that.

But you want them to hear you. You want them to hear you rip your throat raw as you exorcise your demons.

You blink and you're standing still.

You haven't moved.

Your spacious room feels stifling. Like the walls are closing in on you, suffocating you.

Silken ropes sway in the dusk, catching your eye from beyond the balcony window. Your escape route from earlier that day.

You don't think twice before stuffing a few meager belongings into the long forgotten backpack kicked beneath your bed.

You need to leave this place.

You can't stay here.

-------

It had started drizzling not long after you left the house, and even now as you sit on the damp curbside, waiting for the next bus to take you far away from this place, it strikes you as funny, in a way, that the weather is crying for you, since you can't muster any tears of your own.

It's cold and misty, a foreboding atmosphere, by all accounts. It makes you question if what you're about to do is the right call.

But you shut down the arguments in your head as quickly as they appear.

Second guessing was what had gotten you into this situation. You need to follow your instincts.

And your instincts are telling you to flee.

It won't be so bad, you try to convince yourself. After the first night on the road, you'll eventually find a new town, a new home, a new place for yourself in this fucked up world. You've done it before, you can do it again.

You're considering suitable aliases for your new persona, when you sense another person approaching, their shoes tramping through the wet grass.

You don't look up at them, hoping they'll pass by and leave you alone. But they come to a stop beside you.

You keep your gaze on the road, droplets rippling the puddled potholes.

Then the stranger goes to sit on the curb too, and you can't help but look at them.

You'd recognize those lips anywhere, even beneath a baggy hooded sweatshirt.

"It's a bit late to run errands, don't you think?" Seokjin says, pulling his sleeves down to keep out the chill as he perches beside you.

He glances at you, then looks ahead at the road, the same way you were. You return your gaze forward, too exhausted to make a run for it. Though you don't get the sense that he would chase after you, even if you tried to escape.

Maybe that's exactly why you decide to stay put, but you don't give the suspicion any more thought.

"What do you want?" You finally ask, your voice croaky from being silent for so long.

"Nothing."

"Liar," you mutter, hugging your knees to your chest. "Everyone wants something."

He chuckles. Rests back on his hands. "I guess you're right about that."

Damn right you are. You didn't study the human condition through your years of training to be fooled so easily by pretty words.

"So?" You prompt him, still staring at the dreary horizon.

He takes a moment to respond. The silence is punctuated by the distant noises of traffic, an occasional car passing by, its headlights shimmering in the mist before disappearing down the road.

“The others are all out looking for you, you know,” he says simply. “Why do you think that is?”

If it were anyone else that had run away - their manager, a friend - you know what the answer would be. Because they care about that person. But how can you believe that about yourself, when you know you can never amount to anyone with that level of importance to them?

Ironic, since you’re the person with which they can be most intimate and vulnerable.

“I’m a liability,” you reply halfheartedly.

His silence serves to confirm your suspicions. A runaway PhysCom? Far too risky for a group at their level. You could become one of those anonymous sources like you saw in the news. A firsthand account of the BTS members’ secret sexual urges. Unacceptable. Snatches of words from the NDA you signed buzz around the edges of your mind like stray flies.

But since you're no longer connected to your network, then your tracker is probably disconnected. If the bus had come just a little earlier, you might already have escaped without a trace.

“You really think that’s the only reason?” Seokjin’s voice pulls you back to the moment.

His abysmal attempt to divert from the problem gets a hollow laugh out of you.

“Any other reason has ulterior motives. It’s just business.” You check the time on your ComGear. The bus should be here any minute. “I’m leaving, and I won’t let you stop me.”

“I don’t intend to,” he agrees, to your surprise. “God knows you’ve been put through enough.” He then leans forward, resting his forearms across his legs. “But for what it’s worth, you deserve to know the truth.”

Your ears perk up at this.

Seokjin seems to take your silence as permission to continue. “The reason we decided to suspend you. It wasn’t… entirely selfless.”

You purse your lips in irritation and fix your gaze upon the horizon, settling your chin beneath your crossed arms. “Right. Ulterior motives, like I said.”

He clicks his tongue. “Touche.”

You wait for him to continue, but he doesn't.

Your curiosity gets the better of you.

“So, what… were you planning to replace me?” You ask, trying to sound contemptuous. “I heard you all having your little group meeting in the kitchen. There are plenty of shiny new whores at your disposal, take your pick.”

He still makes no noise.

You wait, preparing to accept a bitter confirmation of all your fears.

But then he finds his voice. “We could never replace you, dear.”

You stop. Look over at him. His eyes are half lidded, his smile bittersweet as he stares off into the distance. After a few moments, he fishes around in his pocket and pulls something out, then hands it to you.

His smartphone.

“Here,” he murmurs, sympathy in the quirk of his lips. “In case you need to call anyone. Those devices they give you don’t have a cell plan, I assume.”

He seems to sense your wariness, and waves the phone a bit in a gesture of insistence. “I can buy a dozen new ones. It’s no trouble.”

You very hesitantly take it. “Thanks.”

Of course, he has no way to know that your ComGear is now jailbroken, for all intents and purposes. But… is this a trap? What if there’s a tracker in the phone? But why would he need to put a tracker in it if he doesn’t know your ComGear is off the grid?

The rumble of an approaching motor pulls you out of your cyclical thoughts, and you get on your feet, slowly coming out of your dissociative sulk.

But you still feel numb. Nothing matters anymore.

Nothing at all.

Jin gets up along with you, slipping his hands into his hoodie pocket. “Stay safe, alright?”

You give a brief nod of acknowledgment, only half in his direction as you shrug your bag onto your shoulder more securely. The hydraulics of the bus screech as the vehicle comes to a stop and lowers slightly, allowing you to step onboard.

You glance back, fully expecting Jin to stop you. But he doesn’t. He blinks raindrops out of his eyes while you board, and gives you a small smile once the doors close behind you. He lifts a hand in farewell, then turns and starts to walk away down the street.

He’s really letting you go.

You pay your fare and find a seat towards the back of the nearly empty bus. Rain pelts at the windows, picking up in earnest, and it feels like yet another layer, another barrier, separating yourself and creating an ever-growing chasm from the life you knew up until yesterday.

You pull out Jin’s phone, staring at the dark screen and wiping away stray raindrops from the surface with your sleeve. Why had he come to find you, if not to stop you?

“But for what it’s worth, you deserve to know the truth.”

Maybe he felt guilty. Or remorseful for the hell you’ve been put through recently. You would normally have felt immense satisfaction at such a thought.

But you can’t feel much of anything right now.

You don’t think you’ll be able to feel properly again. At least not for a long, long time…

Hm? The screen lit up. You must have pressed a button by accident. You swipe at it again, and to your surprise it unlocks. Who doesn’t put a passcode on their phone?

Is it possible… he disabled it before he gave it to you? Maybe. Whatever. You’re so tired of thinking, playing investigator and second guessing people’s motivations.

You scroll over to the phone icon, and tap on it, briefly considering calling your parents. But the wetness on your fingers messes with the touchscreen and you open the messages app instead.

You’re about to wipe the screen and try again, but… the most recent messages are… all about you. You tap on the group chat among the seven of them, currently bustling with activity.

[ Kim Namjoon ]: has anyone found her [ Park Jimin ]: hyung I’m so sorry [ Park Jimin ]: it’s all my fault [ Min Yoongi ]: she’s not at the studio [ Kim Namjoon ]: we’ll talk about it later Jimin [ Kim Namjoon ]: everyone keep looking [Jeon Jungkook]: manager said they can call her network to track her down [Kim Taehyung ]: should we do that? [ Jung Hoseok ]: no! she could get in trouble :( [ Min Yoongi ]: she’s not a stray pet [ Kim Namjoon ]: exactly [ Kim Namjoon ]: we need to keep this quiet for her sake [Kim Taehyung ]: she hasn’t replied to my texts or calls [ Min Yoongi ]: me neither [Jeon Jungkook]: hyung... will she be okay? [ Kim Namjoon ]: everything will be fine don’t worry [ Kim Namjoon ]: we’re going to fix this somehow [ Min Yoongi ]: whatever it takes [ Jung Hoseok ]: where could she have gone... [ Park Jimin ]: what if she doesn’t come back?

You scroll further up, past days and weeks and months of texts between them… not even a day between mentions of you. Wondering if you’re alright. Hoping you’ve eaten enough. Wanting to do more with you.

The thread of texts Jimin sent to Seokjin just yesterday.

Hyung I wish things were different I want to hold her I want to tell her she’s enough I wish I could kiss her… I think I love her Do you ever feel that way?

And Seokjin’s reply.

I do I know just what you mean Why do you think I turned those secondaries away last night, hm? No one can compare She really is special…

He didn’t… fuck the secondaries? After you broke at dinner, he… didn’t...?

You switch to his thread with Namjoon from a few days ago.

I know you’re our leader but I don’t think this is the way to go You need to be more cautious

Namjoon’s reply.

What we need is action, hyung If we work together on this, we could get rid of these unnecessary rules We could all have what we want Including her It’s what’s best for everyone

Seokjin took several minutes to reply.

You’re going to lose her.

Jin knew. He tried to talk Namjoon out of writing that stupid essay, or maybe it was about your suspension.

Either way, he defended you.

You open his thread with Hoseok. Dimly, you recognize that you shouldn’t be snooping, but you’re too absorbed to stop.

Hyung, I think she really wants this All of us ♡ I don’t know how, but we need to show her that it’s okay That we want it just as much

How do you know that’s what she wants?

I can’t say ♡ But I know now She wouldn’t reject us Our feelings She feels something too

The date and time lines up with this morning. The morning after he made love to you.

He didn’t tell them. He kept your secret.

“Our feelings”? What does he mean? Him, Jimin, Taehyung… Seokjin? Do they all…?

Your head spins, the hollowness of your heart filling with a rush of jumbled emotions, like a tide crashing in. All your numbness is washed out with light, just a pinprick at first, that grows rapidly into a ray of warmth as you consider what all this could mean. The chasm starts to narrow, and you get the urge to jump ship, to turn back and figure this shit out. To know once and for all what they want from you. What you mean to them.

But how can you trust this isn’t a trap? How can you be sure?

The answer is as simple as they come.

You can’t.

You can’t be absolutely certain that their intentions are pure… that this is the right thing to do… that you won’t be hurt again.

But maybe... trust isn’t about being infallible. Being right. Being sure.

Maybe it’s built on what ifs. On trying again, even with no guarantees.

Guarantees are only as good as their word, and talk is cheap. Lies are easy. Your Opticon had a 100% guarantee, and look where that got you.

But you remember the way Hoseok held you that night, and made love to you like you’ve never felt in your life... When Jimin kissed his way down your body, with only the best of intentions. Namjoon’s strong arms embracing you when you felt powerless. Yoongi’s hand never leaving yours, even while you waited in the hospital. Jungkook carrying you home after you fainted, breaking your door to make sure you were safe in bed. The look in Taehyung’s eyes when he finally kissed you, breaking the ice you’d been growing around your heart.

How Seokjin let you go.

Maybe...

You get up with a start, rush to the front of the bus, and hastily ask the driver to let you off, much to the old man’s disgruntlement, but the moment the doors whoosh open, you take off at a run.

You want to go home.

You want to try again.

No matter how much you try to bury it, to forget the way they make you feel, you care about them. All of them. On a much deeper level than that of a PhysCom and client. And it scares you.

But you’re done running from fear. From uncertainty.

Now you’re running towards it willingly, as you give chase down the torrential streets, searching for that familiar hooded figure and hoping you’re not too late. You’re embracing the doubt, the fear, the uncertainty, the paranoia... letting their shadowy claws sink into you until they can’t hurt you anymore. Until they fade away, cowering under the glow of your determination.

You’re setting some new rules for yourself, no longer letting fear control your thoughts and actions, barring you from any chance of happiness.

You see Seokjin in the distance, trudging home through the pouring rain. You run faster.

You’re fucking terrified. But you’ve never felt so free in your life.

“Jin!” You shout to get his attention, still a block away. He turns around, and shakes his head, seemingly confused, but a smile starts to appear. You smile too.

Finally, you catch up to him, and without warning, you throw your arms around his shoulders. Damn, he’s always taller than you remember.

He laughs, shocked by your change of heart. “What are you doing?”

“I want to hear you say it.” You reply, looking up at him as rain dashes down your face. You don’t know when you started crying, but you’re grateful to the weather for masking your tears.

“Say what?” He asks, his hands resting on your waist to support you. Thunder rumbles in the distance, rain sliding down his perfect face.

“How you feel about me.” You reply, studying his eyes. “Be honest.”

He seems to sense the gravity in your words. He holds you closer. His eyes soften.

“I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

For the first time since all of this started, you sense no deception in his words, no double meaning, no hidden agenda.

Because you aren’t searching for reasons to doubt this time.

You’re searching for reasons to trust, and you find them.

You want to kiss him. So you do.

#bts #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts x reader smut #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts ot7 #bts ot7 smut #bts smut fic #bts fic rec #yoongi x reader #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #thank you all for waiting ;w;

[yesimwriting]

The Promise of Rain, blurb 2

The Promise of Rain (part 2?? technically) 

A/n I was not originally planning a second part for this but some people wanted it and this idea came to me and it works better with the context of ‘The Promise of Rain’ but it can technically be read as a stand alone :))

Anyways this might turn into a small series of kinda connected blurbs that are all kind of canon with each other but aren’t necessarily connected except for the reader’s background (the reader is a very sunshine-y person and knows Kaz bc she’s a runaway princess that he was hired to bring back home but she managed to convince him to let her work for him instead)

--

The night air had left me with a chill that made me want nothing more than to have my covers draped over me as I read. I’m normally more sociable after a job, especially after such a simple and safe ending, but a lot of tonight had left me wanting to be alone. 

Well, not truly alone. The company of my books is always welcomed, but tonight I can’t seem to find much comfort within the pages. After almost every paragraph, I find myself distracted by gusts of wind and thoughts of the heavy, silver clouds that seem to make up tonight. A part of me longs for the rain. I know it’s ridiculous to expect rain each time I desire some sense of comfort, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want it. Especially when the sky so clearly implies it. 

“This must be the fifth time I’ve come here and you’ve been reading.” Kaz’s sudden appearance is almost enough to shake away my lingering somberness. 

I roll my eyes slightly, turning my attention back to the page in front of me. “That observation is just a testament to how often you come in here.” 

His glare is half hearted, a look I’d find endearing if I was less annoyed. “Where else am I going to find a reminder that good people exist in Ketterdam?” 

I think he may have a sixth sense that warns him when I’m treading the line between being annoyed and displeased. Everytime I find myself mad at him in a way that makes me want to avoid him instead of yell at him, Kaz makes some ridiculously heart-melting comment. He steps further into the room. I don’t miss the way he eyes my stretched out legs. Ever since the conversation we had after he woke up after an injury, we’ve fallen into the unmentioned habit of silently inviting the other to stay by moving to make room for them. 

It had started the day after the conversation in which Kaz had admitted that he wanted me to stay with him. He had been sitting on the small couch while discussing the details of a job. Shortly after I walked in he made a point of shifting so that he was clearly on one side of the couch. I didn’t think much about sitting down, but Inej and Jesper exchanged a look. 

Now, though, I keep my legs stretched out on the bed. He eyes my position on the bed, something grim crossing his features. 

“It might rain tonight.” 

He knows me so damn well. I hate it. “I hope so.”

I turn my head, analyzing the way the world seems to be on the cusp of something. I stare at the silver clouds until I feel something hard tap my leg. The tap is firm but not painful. I’m quick to look at Kaz as he lowers his cane. The mention of rain had been a distraction. 

“You distracted me on purpose.” 

“The first rule of the Barrel is to always be prepared.” There’s a slight uptilt to his lips, something I’ve learned to interpret as a sign of teasing. 

How is he so easy to be around one second and so cold the next? I resist a smile. “I’ll take notes.” 

Kaz ignores my passive aggressive tone. His focus seems to be on my legs that have still not moved to offer him a place next to me. “You wear your emotions too openly.” Great, he’s going to make us talk about it. “What reason could you possibly have to be mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you.” It’s a partial truth. 

His expression harshens. “Don’t lie.” 

“I’m not thrilled with you, but I don’t think that’s the same as being mad.” 

Kaz lets out a partial sigh. “No, they’re not the same.” Such an early concession feels like a trap. “With you, the first option is worse.” I don’t have anything to say to that. “Is this because of what I said to Jesper?” 

My posture straightens on instinct. “He wants your validation more than he’d ever admit and I understand that expressing praise isn’t exactly something you do, but would it kill you to not actively insult him?” 

“I didn’t say anything that was wrong. He thinks he’s a gambler but he’s just someone born for losses.” The look I give him must mean something to him, because Kaz is quick to tact on, “That doesn’t make him less valuable of an asset or less relatively dependable.” 

I eye him cautiously, the slightest bit of vulnerability playing at his features. “Don’t look at me like that--and don’t tell me that. Jesper’s the one who could use the occasional reminder from you that you hold him to any regard with positive connotations.” His lips press together like he’s thinking about scolding me for scolding him. “It’s only because I know you care more about Jesper than you’d ever let on.” 

“Jesper’s esteem can handle the blow.” The curtness of his voice is a blow in its own sense. “And he didn’t exactly deserve to be in my good graces after what he did tonight.” 

My sigh is not weighted enough to match Kaz’s newfound fountain of emotion. “We were successful--”

“He left you.” I didn’t know Kaz’s voice was capable of such harshness. “I paired him with you, and he left you--and you almost didn’t make it.” I let the weight of his words take up all the available space in the room, keeping the silence that follows them until some of the heaviness has dissipated. “He could have cost me one of my best people.”

Oh. His harshness, his unwarranted coldness, had been a manifestation of his concern. For me. Guilt knots my stomach. Potential words that may offer Kaz some sort of support raise and die back down in my throat. Kaz turns towards the door. 

“Kaz.” He pauses. There’s a long moment in which I think he won’t turn around, but finally, he does. I tuck my legs beneath me, forcing myself to sit up a little straighter. “I told Jesper to leave because I knew the job would have failed if he had been trapped in that room with me.” I drop my gaze towards the window. “I was right, the job was successful, and I got out in time so it was worth it.”

“You risked your safety?” The harsh facet of his being is making its return in full force. 

“For the job,” I’m careful to keep my words factual, “It’s what we’re supposed to do.”

Kaz’s jaw locks. “When I said that keeping you near me would ruin you this is what I meant.” 

Is it really this big of a deal? I made it out. “Kaz.”

“This wasn’t my best idea.” His words are leached of anything. “You’re going back home. Tomorrow I’ll arrange the voyage myse--” 

“Kaz Brekker you may get to live your life doing anything you want but you don’t get to control mine.” My chin raises an inch, an instinctual act of subtle rebellion. “I am not going back there, even if I’m technically indebted to you because you didn’t return me to my father but that does not mean I’ll--”

“I’m not trying to control you.” His words are sharp, boarding on a yell. “A job like that one wasn’t worth you.” 

From Kaz, I know those words are heavy. There’s a lot of things I could say to that. I could tell him that I wanted to do something for him. I could say that I appreciate him telling me that. I could even say that in his own way, Kaz giving Jesper a hard time because he left me, is kind of cute in a misguided way. The thing is I think all of these responses will make things worse. 

“Kaz,” I keep my voice as steady as possible, “I’m fine, you’re fine, it all worked out.” Scratching the back of my arm, I exhale gently. “I’ll be more careful next time, I promise.” 

I watch him carefully, there’s a slight slump to his shoulders as he exhales. Is the fight leaving him so easily? He walks further into the room. “You better.” He sits down in the space I provided for him slowly. “If you’re not you’ll have worse things to worry about than anything that can happen to you on a job.” He moves his cane forward easily, tapping my knee in a swift motion. 

I roll my eyes at the mock threat. “They do say that there’s nothing to fear in the Barrel like the Dirtyhands.” 

“Remember that.” Any edge in his voice is forced. I fight against a smile that seems to always want to break across my face whenever I think I see something resembling lightness in Kaz. 

“I don’t think I could forget anything about you.” 

He turns his head slightly. “You should.” 

“Too bad.” 

Kaz leans his back against the wall, untensing slightly. “I think you just like disagreeing with me.” 

There’s no point in lying about it. “Only because when you argue with me you give me this really particular look.” 

“A look?” 

Adding insult to injury, I smile. “Sometimes you look like you’re too focused on being angry, like you’re compensating for something.” 

Kaz lets out a bitter sigh. “Maybe if you were less of a puppy I wouldn’t have to--”

The laugh that escapes is most definitely a mistake. “Did you just call me a puppy?” I don’t give him a chance to reply, laughter taking over again. “I mean this in the least argumentative way possible--but you’re so weird sometimes.” 

He rolls his eyes, tensing. “I’m leaving.”

I stifle the rest of my laughter. “No. I was--I was kidding!” I keep my eyes on Kaz, expecting some type of annoyed glare, but his expression is a lot more weighted than that. Odd. “Kaz?” 

“You need to be more careful.” I understand Kaz’s pause as something he does before saying something outside of his nature. “I’m not asking you this as a Crow or a Dreg.” 

On instinct, my posture straightens. “I promised and I meant it.” 

“Sometimes I wish I could believe in Saints,” his voice has taken off a distant quality, almost fragile, “That way I could believe something existed to help what matters.” 

Oh. “You never fail, even if I didn’t believe in Saints I’d believe in you.” 

“You’re wasting your faith.” The sound of lightning cracking is almost enough to make me jump. The rain finally came. 

I know I’ll never convince him that that’s not true. “I don’t think so, but that’s why it’s called faith.” 

“I have faith in some things.” His expression is far off. 

“Like what?” 

Kaz’s eyes find the window. “People that find meaning in the rain.” 

Something in my chest swells. “You’re like the rain.”

We sit there in silence, watching raindrops glide down the window. “What were you reading?” 

The question has me dropping my gaze to the forgotten book on my lap. “I stole this book from the palace before I left. It was my mom’s favorite, she’s read it so much the spine’s completely cracked and the cover is practically falling off.” 

“Hm…” He mumbles. “Read some, the books read in a palace must be worthwhile.” 

A part of me wants to tell him that elitism has no place in literature, but his request leaves me frozen. I nod once, turning to the first page of the book. “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife--” 

“Your upbringing makes sense--” 

“You can’t judge it off the first sentence,” he’s insufferable, “It’s setting up irony, and if you’re going to complain--” 

He lets out a conceding sigh. “I’m listening, I’m not interrupting.” 

I keep my eyes on him for a second longer than I should. “Okay.” Dropping my gaze back to the book, I adjust my grip on the worn paperback, “Good.” 

And then I keep reading. 

--

@theincredibledeadlyviper @grishaverse7 @lonelystarship @mentally-in-northern-italy @uhanddreag 

#six of crows #six of crows x reader #soc #soc imagine #six of crows imagine #six of crows x you #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone netflix #shadow and bone show #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone x you #kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #imagines #kaz brekker imagine #my works #blurb #x reader #grishaverse #grisha x reader #grisha #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse imagine

[namelessayakashi]

For the Angst April Fic: 25 - Immortality

YES THIS WAS ONE I RLY WANTED TO DO TYSM HELL YES THIS IS GONNA BE AN ANGSTY ONE (also loving the new post editor on desktopppp [i have beta on])

Tysm for sending me this one ohhh I'm so happy you sent this one

cw: temporary character death, (technically) suicide (but in the context of proving immortality & bc he knew he'd survive, not because he was suicidal)

Fic below the cut

Immortality

Merlin breathed out slowly, the air leaving his lungs with a sigh.

His eyes fell shut, drooping slowly lower and lower until they closed, and his grip on Arthur began to loosen.

Faintly, he heard a panicked voice stumbling through words he couldn't understand.

He could feel his heartrate slowing. One... Two...... Three...... Four...... Five...... Six......

Slower, slower, slower...

His name, he heard his name being called. A choked sob. A tight grip around his body. Then, nothing...

Then...

Merlin inhaled sharply, his eyes opening abruptly. There was a harsh, stinging pain in his stomach. He ignored it for the moment, as he broke out into a coughing fit, desperately gasping for breath between coughs.

He didn't—what just happened? He was sure he had—

"Merlin?!" The voice ripped him out of his confusion as he quickly turned his gaze to the man cradling his body in his arms.

"Arthur...?" Merlin asked, his voice rough from coughing so much.

"Merlin, no, but you were..." Arthur's grip on Merlin loosened, his confusion clear as day. "We have to get you back home, back to Gaius."

Merlin just groaned softly, leaning his head against the King's chest. "'m tired..."

Arthur slowly stood up, lifting Merlin in his arms as he did so he was carrying him.

"Don't fall asleep, Merlin, dammit, you're such an idiot..." Arthur muttered as he began to walk, "we're lucky we're close enough to the edge of the forest, the attack spooked the horses... You can't just keep jumping in front of me like that, sorcerer or not, one of these you're going to—I thought this time you had..."

The sorcerer just groaned again and shut his eyes.

"I did..." He whispered, trying his hardest not to let sleep take him. He felt Arthur tense, stumbling in his step slightly.

"No, no you couldn't have, because you're alive," Arthur sounded more like he was trying to assure himself rather than Merlin. "You just lost consciousness for a few minutes. That's all."

Merlin frowned but didn't argue, not having the energy. Instead he just hid his face in Arthur's shoulder. He knew he died... He felt it. He felt himself die, his heart stop... Yet, he was alive. He was breathing. He was exhausted, and his entire body ached and his stomach burned where he was struck, but... He was alive.

How was he alive?

"Merlin... Merlin, my boy, I need you to open your eyes..."

Ah, Gaius, he must be home... When did he fall asleep? Slowly, Merlin opened his eyes.

"Gaius...?" Merlin groaned, looking around for the man as he blinked a few times to clear his eyes, "What happened? I—I died... But I'm alive."

When his eyes finally landed on the old physician's grim expression, a feeling of dread washed over him.

"Merlin, I'm afraid you're not going to like what I have to tell you," Gaius sighed, before sitting down on the edge of the sorcerer's bed. "Arthur brought you back, with a fatal wound in your stomach. He told me what happened and I am certain that you did not just lose consciousness, I am certain you died..."

"I did, I felt it happen, but, Gaius, I am alive," Merlin insisted, propping himself up on his elbows with a wince.

Gaius' mouth drew into a thin line. "You are, indeed. So, I did some research while you were out these past three days—"

"Three days?!"

"—and I discovered something... Something about your name to the druids," Gaius continued as if Merlin never interrupted him. "Emrys, it... Means immortal. And these events are leading me to the conclusion that they don't call you this for no reason."

Merlin's heart dropped. Immortal... He's... Merlin shook his head.

"No, no, there must be another explanation," he laughed, but he was not at all amused. Gaius sighed softly and placed a hand on his wards shoulder.

"I'm afraid there's not... I consulted Mordred, and he confirmed my suspicion. You're immortal, Merlin."

Merlin slumped down onto his magic. He felt ill... Oh gods, he felt so sick.

"But I can't be..."

Merlin took a deep breath as he paced the King’s chambers, waiting for him to arrive back from a council meeting.

How was he supposed to tell Arthur the truth?

He couldn’t lie—he promised, they promised. No more secrets, no more lies. But dammit, this was… This wasn’t just something like he had magic, or he’d ripped his favourite shirt.

He was immortal.

Oh, it felt so wrong to even think…

How do you tell someone you’re immortal? How do you tell someone you love that you’re going to live forever, that you’ll have to watch them wither away and die along with everyone else you know…?

Merlin took a nervous breath and let himself drop into a chair at Arthur’s table. He was going to have to watch everyone he’d ever loved die…

He was forced to live on for eternity while everyone he cared about struggled with mortality.

A cruel fate… Yet, the druids dared to call him blessed.

Blessed. That was a good joke.

How could one be called blessed when condemned to such a life?

Merlin ran his hands through his hair. He’d be alone… Never able to grow attached to someone, too afraid of losing them like he knew he would… A lonely life, he’d be sentenced to. Should he start pushing people away now…? Save himself the pain?

No, he couldn’t. That would be cruel to them, as well as himself…

“Merlin?” The sorcerer nearly leapt out of his skin at the voice to his right. “Merlin, you’re awake! And, up! How are you feeling?”

Merlin dropped his hands and looked over to Arthur, who looked so happy and hopeful at the sight of him. Here he was, about to crush that…

“I—” Merlin hesitated, and Arthur’s brows furrowed in a frown.

“You? You what?” The King pushed, concern flickering on his face a moment, “are you alright? You look like you’re about to be ill. Should you be out of bed yet? Gaius said you only just woke recently…”

A tense silence hung between them, as Merlin contemplated how to say the words that had been weighing on his chest. Finally, when Arthur looked like he was going to give up, Merlin found the courage to speak up.

“I can’t die,” he forced out, the words nearly getting caught in his throat. Arthur’s eyes widened impossibly wide, as he stared incredulously at his friend and lover.

Arthur opened his mouth, then closed it again, hesitating.

“…What?” He finally got out. Merlin gave a weak smile, knowing just how crazy it sounded.

“I can’t die,” he repeated, his voice breaking slightly as the reality of it hit him, this having been the first time he spoke the words aloud. His eyes stung, but he blinked away the tears as he stared at Arthur, holding eye contact. “I…I’m immortal, Arthur.”

Arthur let out a breath, stunned by the revelation.

Merlin expected him to laugh, to claim him lying, or even to leave the room or tell Merlin to leave. Even after all they’d been through, after the months they’d been together after finally getting their heads out of their asses and confessing… Merlin was shocked, only minorly but still so, when Arthur suddenly grabbed and pulled Merlin into a tight embrace.

He tensed a moment, startled, but slowly relaxed and returned the hug, burying his face in Arthur’s shoulder.

“I don’t really know what to say,” Arthur murmured, “what do you say when you find out your soon-to-be husband is immortal?”

Merlin huffed out a soft laugh. “I don’t know… I didn’t think we’d ever have to deal with that.”

Arthur hummed softly before falling quiet. They stood there, in each other’s arms for a few minutes, just…silent. Until, finally, Merlin pulled away with a shaky breath.

“Hey,” Arthur sighed, raising a hand to the sorcerer’s face and cupping his cheek, “we’ll get through this together, yes?”

“There’s not much to get through, Arthur… I’m going to have to watch everyone I’ve ever loved die before my eyes,” Merlin muttered, before leaning into the touch, “but yes, I won’t turn down your support…”

Arthur frowned at him a moment before exhaling and stepping back to stretch. “Let’s take your mind off this. I have some new legislation to review, come assist me.”

Merlin laid in Arthur’s bed that night, unable to sleep. His mind raced, and his heart ached as he laid on his side, staring at his betrothed.

Before, Destiny had weighed him down with the possibility that he’d be forced to watch the man he loved be taken from him. Now… Now, it was inevitable. He would watch as Arthur faded from life, no matter how he died. He’d have to watch him… He would lose him and he could do nothing.

It wasn’t just Arthur, either, he realized with a pang of hurt.

Gwen… Morgana, Leon… Elyan, and Gwaine, and Lancelot… Percival… Everyone. Everyone was going to be taken from him.

Gaius… His mother.

Merlin choked back a sob, closing his eyes tightly. Everyone. Everyone.

He could never have children.

Oh, gods, he could never have children… He—he’d be condemned to watch them grow old and die.

Was this really what fate wanted for him? What destiny planned?

How cruel. How unnecessarily, unbelievably cruel. What was the point of it? Why, why do this to him? Did they simply wish to see him suffer? Did the gods believe they were granting him a favour? Did they believe they were rewarding him, by subjecting him to a life of eternal loneliness and heartache?

Did they think it amusing?

“Merlin?” Arthur’s voice, thick with sleep, snapped him out of his spiral, “why are you awake, cariad? It’s the middle of the night…”

Merlin quickly wiped away the tears that had slipped free, as Arthur blinked open his eyes slowly and yawned. “Couldn’t sleep…” He mumbled, “what about you? Did I wake you?”

“Mm… Technically, no, but I could feel your eyes on me.” Arthur shifted closer and pulled Merlin against him, resting their foreheads together. “What were you thinking about? Oh, no, I know…”

He paused, yawning again, before continuing. “The immortal thing, hm?”

Merlin’s silence seemed to be all the answer needed, because Arthur sighed softly and pressed a tired kiss to his nose.

“You’re spiraling, aren’t you? It’ll be fine, Merlin,” he assured, sounding way too confident for someone who’s words were slurred, “we’ll figure something out… We always do. You won’t be alone… won’t let you…”

“I appreciate that, Arthur…” Merlin said truthfully, “now, get back to sleep… You have things to do tomorrow.”

Arthur hummed, closing his eyes again.

“You sleep, too…” He ordered as he drifted back to sleep.

“I’ll try,” Merlin promised, closing his eyes and tightening his hold on Arthur.

It was a sennight later that Merlin wandered the castle corridors with a frown on his face, eyes searching a head of blond as he walked.

Arthur had been acting strange since they discovered Merlin’s immortality, and now… Now he was just gone?

Merlin had searched the castle three times, and no one had seen him all day. He woke up without the King in bed beside him, the knights knew nothing, the servants knew nothing, Gaius and Gwen knew nothing…

It was like he just disappeared!

How does a King disappear?

Merlin took a deep breath, calming himself. He was worried, yes, of course, but he was also growing slowly angry.

How dare he just disappear without a word?! That man had better have been kidnapped for his sake. After another few minutes searching the castle, Merlin finally just stalked back to their chambers.

Arthur had better have a very good explanation when he got back, Merlin decided as he flung the doors open and stomped over to the bed before flopping onto it. Or else he’d getting turned into a toad. A big, ugly, slimy, wart-covered toad. And Merlin’s not changing him back.

Merlin groaned loudly into the duvet in frustration.

Stupid, stupid prat.

How dare he just disappear like it was nothing and leave Merlin there to worry like a mother hen over her eggs all day! He probably didn’t even realize how concerned Merlin was now.

It wasn’t like he was worried for no good reason, either, because that damn man knew how to get into trouble in any situation, and how the hell is he supposed to help Merlin deal with the fact that he’s immortal if he’s deadthanks to his own idiocy!

Merlin’s stomach turned at the thought, and he rolled over onto his back before sitting up. A frown creased his forehead, and he tugged his bottom lip between his teeth anxiously.

What if he really was in danger? What if he was really in danger and Merlin was here, thinking bad about him?

He should go look for him again.

He’s immortal, after all (yay), he doesn’t have to worry about dying protecting Arthur! Arthur, on the other hand, was a fucking beacon for assassins and danger. Right. That decided it.

Merlin pushed himself to his feet and quickly made his way to the door. Then, right as he moved to open it, the door opened to reveal the very prat he was leaving to save, and his heart calmed. He was safe.

“You’re safe…” Merlin sighed, visibly relieved. Arthur frowned in confusion and nodded.

“Yes… I am,” he agreed. Then, it hit Merlin.

He’s safe.

Merlin narrowed his eyes into a glare. “I’m going to turn you into a toad and squash you beneath my boot.”

Arthur’s eyes widened a fraction, before his lips pulled up into an amused smirk.

“Well, that’s rather messy—and graphic.”

“You deserve no less, where have you been?!”

“I was, with the druids, actually,” Arthur cleared his throat, looking away, “Morgana took me to see them.”

Merlin frowned, his glare disappearing to be replaced with a confused look. “What? Why were you with the druids? What took you all day with the druids?”

Arthur took a deep breath. “I… Needed their help with something. Look, it’s better if I just show you.”

The warlock raised an eyebrow, but let Arthur usher him into the room further, before sitting down at the table.

“Okay, go ahead, show me. What was worth making me worry my ass off?” Merlin leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. Arthur gave him a nervous smile before pulling a small phial out of his satchel and uncorking it.

Merlin tilted his head, frowning deeply. What was he…?

“Merlin, I’m immortal, too,” Arthur told him softly, and Merlin couldn’t help it. He snorted, laughing in obvious disbelief.

“Right, and I’m a god.”

Arthur sighed and hesitated, then raised the phial of liquid to his lips.

“Here goes nothing,” he murmured before downing the contents. Merlin watched, growing more and more confused by his betrothed’s actions.

It was only when the phial slipped from Arthur’s hands and shattered on the ground as his skin began to pale and hands began to tremble that Merlin realized what was happening, and panic filled his body.

“Arthur? Arthur!” Merlin was on his feet in seconds, grabbing Arthur by the shoulders as he began to go limp, the—what Merlin now recognized as—poison taking action too fast for Merlin to think of a solution. He didn’t even know what he took! How could he help?! Arthur knew he was shit at healing magic, which was ironic considering he worked with Gaius for so long! “Arthur! Dammit, what are you doing?! Fuck, what did you do?!?”

Merlin’s heart was pounding and tears were filling his eyes as his breath quickened. “Fuck! Arthur, you bastard!” He snapped, unsure what to do, as Arthur’s body slumped in his arms.

He felt the King stop breathing in his arms and he swore his own heart stopped. Then… There was a gasp. A loud, sharp gasp. Then, a fit of coughs wracked Arthur’s body, his shoulders shaking.

Merlin was frozen, stunned. He… He was… But now he was… He really is—

“Arthur, oh, Arthur what did you do?”

Once he had stopped coughing, and Merlin had walked them over and sat them on the bed, Arthur took a deep breath and smiled stupidly.

“I had the druids show me how to use the cup of life,” he explained in a murmur, “I didn’t want you to be alone, for eternity. Now you won’t have to be.”

Merlin stared in silence at his betrothed for a few moments, shocked speechless. Arthur glanced away, coughing a bit more.

“Remind me, to never take Hemlock again,” he muttered rubbing his throat.

That snapped Merlin right out of his daze and he cuffed Arthur upside the head.

“You shouldn’t have taken it in the first place! What in the hell were you thinking?!” He demanded to know.

“I was thinking you wouldn’t believe me if I just told you I was immortal!”

“I would’ve if you just told me you used the cup!”

“Oh…”

Merlin let out a high laugh, shaking his head.

“Yes, oh!”

Arthur bit his lip, before looking away sheepishly. “Sorry… I suppose, I was just eager to tell you that you wouldn’t be alone anymore…”

A soft sigh let Merlin’s lips, and he ignored the way his heart flipped. “You’re an idiotic prat, you know? A massive cabbagehead. But… You just gave up your mortality for me… And while part of me hates that you’ll now be subjected to the same pain as I will be when our friends’ times come… I can’t help but feel so…”

“So, what?” Arthur pushed gently, laying back on the bed. Merlin shook his head and laid back beside him.

“I love you… And I can’t believe you love me so much, as to literally give up your mortality for me.”

Arthur smiled and looked over at him, his eyes drooping sleepily (probably tired from dying).

“I’d give up anything for you…”

#angst april #april angst prompt #one shot #bbc merlin #merlin #arthur #merthur #angst #hurt/comfort #fanfiction #prompt: immortality #temporary character death #cw: technically suicide but only because he knew he would come back #not because he wanted to die

[kyber-crystal]

Maybe It’s Meant To Be

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: ~3.7k

Summary: Sometimes, love finds people in unexpected ways. In this case, fate has extra special plans for America’s golden boy and one of SHIELD’s best agents in history. And you know there’s no running away from fate once she’s set out your futures for you. 

Warnings: mentions of violence and blood, angst, and once again, soft steve :)

A/N: I haven’t attempted a soulmate AU in over a year. this is one of my fav works but it’s really poorly written rip. The age gap between you and Steve is ~3 years. 2017 AU where they made up after the Accords :) Steve’s back with his WS look bc that suit was hot af

Tags: @pies-writes-and-more​ this is for you! THANK YOU FOR ALWAYS BEING SO ACTIVE ON MY BLOG AND FOR YOUR SWEET AND SUPER ENCOURAGING WORDS. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH. AND @marvelsswansong BECAUSE YOU'RE MY IDOL AND I LOOK UP TO YOU YOU'RE AMAZING

Soulmates.

You'd heard plenty about them growing up. Seeing your parents' perfect relationship blossom over the years piqued your interest, and for the longest time, your only wish was to find someone who could love you with their whole heart and soul and mind, like the way your Mom and Dad loved each other.

Unfortunately, as all stories must come to an end, love stories had to find their ending. And not all of them ended on a high note.

Their jobs should've kept them apart from the beginning. Your mother was head surgeon at one of the best hospitals in Brooklyn, and your father was head of SHIELD's navy division. Constantly out and about, they were rarely granted any time to rest. Yet they still found a way to make things work; and it all started because of a run-in at a café around the corner.

Then when you were fifteen, you got word that your father had been deployed overseas again, but this time, he wasn't coming back.

You had to stand there and watch your mother slowly fall apart, breaking down a little more each day until she fell gravely ill. A mere week after her diagnosis of cardiomyopathy, she passed away in her sleep.

A person's soulmark didn't appear at a specific time. It could show up at any point in their lives, when the Gods believed the time was right for them. When those Gods felt the time was right for you to find out who it was, you'd feel a slight tingle where the mark was etched into your skin.

Some people didn't receive the soulmark at all. Along with this came a sense of freedom to fall in love with whoever they pleased, but often times it would end in a loveless relationship. But they were additionally granted the ability of being able to carry on by themselves.

If your soulmate got injured in any way, you would feel the same pain that they endured. And if they died, you would carry a weight around with you for the rest of your life that slowly progressed into a disease. So ultimately, those left in the world without their soulmate would also die in the end, further proving the claim of humans being unable to live without love.

One by one, you watched your friends find their match. They would excited come up to you, goofy grins on their faces as they showed you their marks. You were happy for them in the beginning, of course. But as years went by, and you passed adulthood with still no sign of your designated soulmark, you slowly began losing hope. There was no point in looking forward to the future when you watched one fall apart before your very eyes.

Maybe it was because of your job. None of the Avengers had received their soulmarks either, asides from Tony and Pepper. But they were an exception. Everyone could see it coming from the day they first met, judging by the way they lovingly gazed at each other from across the room. It was a match made in heaven.

You believed that maybe, just maybe, you were destined to be alone. So when you woke up one morning with the burn mark on your wrist, you were taken completely by surprise.

"Hey, Tony? Bruce?" you asked, walking into the lab with a frown. "I need to ask you guys a quick question."

"Ask away, Killer," Tony nodded, using the nickname he'd given you years ago when you first joined the initiative. "What's on your mind?"

"So, um..." you fiddled with the sleeve of your sweatshirt for a moment, before pulling it up to reveal the mark, "this happened."

"That's a soulmark," he stated.

"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock," you rolled your eyes. "But why would it appear now? I don't see any sign of me meeting them anytime soon."

"When did it appear?"

"I don't know. I woke up this morning and saw it."

"Let me take a look at that," Bruce carefully took ahold of your wrist, squinting as he adjusted his glasses to peer at the mark, "huh. So it appeared last night...have you felt any side-effects?"

"Not that I know of yet, no..."

"If you start feeling any severe symptoms, I can prescribe you some medication to deal with the pain, though I doubt that's going to happen. In the meantime, we need to figure out who this could be."

"Imagine if it was someone who already died, and I'm slowly dying right now," you joked.

"No, if that were to be true, you'd be lying in a hospital bed right now."

"Does the symbol have any specific meaning?"

"That I'm not so sure about," Tony shrugged.

Bruce was silent as he began typing away for a bit, before turning the screen over to you.

"I've checked out over a dozen different sites about this, and..."

"And what?"

"Well...once both people discover their mark, they have a week to find each other before both of them disappear off the face of the earth, forever."

"Sounds like a damn time bomb to me," you muttered. "What the hell? I thought that the point of this whole thing was the gods trying to push us with someone else! Not the other way around!"

"I don't know, Y/N," Bruce sighed. "Feel free to do your own research, but everything I've read up on so far says the same thing."

"So basically, what you're telling me is I'm gonna die if I don't find out who the hell has this same mark as I do," you repeated.

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Well, I'll have to worry about that later. Got a briefing with Cap, Bucky, and Wilson in five. Fury's gonna kill me if I'm late again," you breathed out as you tugged your hoodie's sleeve back down. "See ya."

"Agent Y/N," Nick Fury gave you a curt nod as you burst into the meeting room, breathless. "I hope you slept well last night."

"Of course."

"I need you four to track down a weapons dealer in Skagway," he explained as he handed Steve a black manila file folder, "shut down the base, download the intel onto the flashdrive. You’ll be staying at a safe house in Juneau afterwards for about a week to keep things on the down-low in case something goes wrong. Simple in-and-out job."

"When are we leaving?" Sam questioned.

"You're taking off in half an hour. Suit up."

You sighed. Finding your soulmate would just have to wait, then.

...

"Y/N, look out!"

You quickly whipped around and narrowly missed a bullet whizzing past you, as Steve tugged you around the corner, an arm wrapped firmly around your torso as he hid you both behind his shield.

You gasped as you felt a sharp pain in your chest, and Steve immediately pulled away from you in alarm, gripping your shoulders worriedly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you panted, trying to steady your rapid breathing, “I’m fine. But we’re gonna have to split up from here if we wanna get the job done faster.”

“Y/N, I can’t-”

“Steve,” you interrupted, the firm tone of voice making him immediately shut up. “I can handle myself just fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure! Go find Sam and Bucky, and I’ll meet you guys by the rendezvous point as soon as I’m done. Okay?”

“Alright.” He looked around for a moment before stepping away, as if he was hesitant to leave you on your own.

Ignoring the slight ache in your chest, you parted ways, darting down the hall with your guns up and ears alert. 

From there, it was easy to fall into your usual routine. Keep all eyes and ears open; don’t hesitate, shoot on sight unless ordered otherwise. If necessary, engage powers but if not, use your fists or bullets. The mantra repeated itself over and over in your head as you followed through with your job.

You hid behind a tower of wooden crates, back pressed up against the steel walls. “Sam. Status update?”

“Controls room with Barnes, disabling all security systems. Steve’s retrieving intel from the north wing. You?”

“Outside on standby,” you murmured, keeping a finger pressed to your ear. Three technicians were loading equipment onto crates as the other six stood guard several yards away. “I make nine hostiles on the load dock straight ahead at twelve o’clock. Three dozen in total scattered around the area. Most likely preparing for an overseas arms trade. We’ll have to stop them.”

“And...done. We’re heading your way,” Bucky reported. “Be there in three.”

“Roger that.”

Exactly three minutes and two seconds later Bucky showed up, with Steve and Sam in tow. You came out from your hiding spot and began making your way towards the loading dock where the agents were stationed. They were quick to stop what they were doing and noticed the four of you approaching, whipping their snipers out and proceeding to open fire.

...

Your breath came out in white wisps of fog as you got caught in between a fistfight with one of the three dozen men on the docks, the freezing cold slowing all your movements and making them feel more sluggish than usual. If it weren’t for the thick material of your suit and your enhancements, you would’ve succumbed to the harsh weather hours ago.

The man captured you into a tight headlock with his thick arm but despite your frostbite you were too fast; you quickly whipped around and grabbed his wrist, twisting it to the side. His eyes widened slightly as he cried out in pain, the sickening crunch of bone echoing through the frigid Alaskan air as you swiftly dodged each one of moves as he attempted to come at you, countering with a sharp right hook to his jaw. 

His body slumped to the ground with a thump. 

“Why the hell do you even carry around a sniper if your fists do all the work for you?” Sam yelled over the cacophony as he released Redwing, swooping down from the rooftops. “Seriously, you don’t need guns! You’re strong enough as it is!”

“I prefer versatility in fights, Wilson!” you yelled back, grunting as you dodged a blow to the stomach, sweeping out your attacker’s feet from underneath him as his head smacked against the wall, before sliding down to the ground with a dull thud. 

“Y/N, look out-” Bucky called out, but it was too late. You didn’t get to hear his warning in time before you felt something cold and hard hit your lower abdomen. A yell of pain ripped through your throat as you felt a sticky warmth spread across your skin, your knees hitting the ground as you clutched the wound.

At that exact moment, Steve felt a sharp pain flare up his side as well. “Shit,” he cursed to himself, “Buck, cover me so I can get to her.”

You were barely clinging on to life by the time he reached you. Your breathing was heavy and labored, your eyes beginning to roll back as you struggled to stay awake. Everything hurt. Your arms and legs felt like they were weighed down with bricks. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t open your mouth to scream, either - you had no energy left to do so.

“Come on, Y/N, stay with me, please stay with me,” he muttered as he began carefully applying pressure to your wound. You let out a hiss of pain at the same time he did. “Just hang in there for me, please. Sam’s getting the Quinjet ready. We’re gonna get out of here in just a few minutes, okay? Please don’t die on me.”

“Look, if I don’t make it-”

“Don’t say that,” he spoke in between clenched teeth while fighting back tears of his own, “you’re not going to die. Not today, not tomorrow, and certainly not on my watch.”

“Steve…” you croaked out, the stinging from the wound almost becoming impossible to bear. Your eyes were becoming heavier by the second, your body throbbing painfully now that all the adrenaline had worn off. It was a struggle just to take in a single breath and to stay awake. "I'm so tired, I can't do this anymore..."

He disappeared from your line of sight as your began seeing spots at the edges of your vision momentarily, before reappearing and pulling you into his lap, trying to put pressure on the area of injury again in an attempt to stem the bleeding. But it didn’t seem to work. There was so much blood. So much of it, coming out so fast. There was no way you’d last out here for longer than ten minutes before bleeding to death.

"Stay with me..." he murmured as he looked up around him. "Hang in there for a few more minutes, please…Damn it, Sam, how much longer is this gonna take? Y/N’s down. We gotta get her to the safe house as soon as we can. She’s bleeding out.”

"Three minutes, tops. I’m circling the perimeter as an extra precaution," Sam replied. "You guys hang tight for a sec."

"We don't have time!" he raised his voice. "Just hurry the hell over here."

"I'm so sorry," you choked out before going into a coughing fit, blood dripping down your lips and chin much to Steve’s alarm. "I'm sorry for everything, I'm sorry for being reckless and not keeping a look ou—"

"Shhh, it's okay," he soothed, "There’s nothing to be sorry about. Just save your energy for later, okay? You're gonna be just fine."

"Hold my hand," you begged hoarsely.

"I already am," the super-soldier answered, but his look shifted to that of an alarmed one when he realized you couldn't feel it. "Y/N—"

"I'm cold," you said weakly, already feeling your limbs grow heavy and numb and your vision growing blurrier with each passing second. "I'm so tired, Cap, I just wanna sleep—"

"No no no, please don't leave me," he pleaded as he felt his head begin to spin as well. Where had the sudden wave of dizziness come from? "Hang in there for a little longer, please, I l—"

You didn’t get to hear the rest of his sentence before your eyes fluttered shut and everything went dark.

...

When you came to, your throat felt dry and raw, the metallic taste of dried blood around your lips and chin overwhelming your senses as you adjusted your eyes to the harsh bright lights streaming into the room. It looked like you were in some sort of antique coastal house, strangely void of belongings with the only decoration being a plain floral calendar hung on the wall opposite you, above the fireplace.

You were still in your suit, but your wound had been treated and wrapped up in a thick set of bandages. The couch you were on was old but extremely comfortable, so you found yourself not wanting to sit up at the same time you wanted to get up and look around.

The blinds were drawn shut, but the sunlight still managed to shine through. It was light outside, but you  weren’t sure what time it really was. The walls were a dull grey, and if you listened hard enough you could hear the faint ticking of a nearby clock and probably Bucky or Sam talking on the phone upstairs with someone in hushed whispers.

You finally pulled yourself up into a sitting position, glancing around at your surroundings. Someone quietly entered the living room and you looked up to see Steve. His shoulders sagged in relief upon seeing that you were awake.

“Hey,” his voice came out so softly it took both of you by surprise. You moved over slightly to make room for him to sit. “How are you feeling?”

“Like crap,” you groaned lightly, feeling a dull ache in your stomach where you’d been hit. “But other than that, I’m fine. What about you? Did you get hurt anywhere?”

“Body aches that come and go, but I’m fine. It isn’t your place to be worrying about me right now though, Y/N. You got shot.”

The curtains fluttered and a cool breeze rushed in, making you shiver. Steve took notice and stood up to go light up the fireplace, then sat back down and wrapped the fleece blanket around your body. You let out a small sigh of contentment. “Thanks.”

“Are you sure you’re alright? You knocked out for over twenty-six hours .”

“I’m fine, Steve, just tired...hey, how’s Bucky and Sam?”

“Sam’s upstairs radioing Fury on the mission status. Bucky’s taking a nap in the guest room.”

“Oh. Okay. So, I-” you were interrupted by a sharp stabbing sensation in your wrist. “Ow. Fuck.”

“Language,” he joked lightly, but when he saw the obvious pained expression on your face, his face fell. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just...I get those random pains from time to time. I don’t know why, but...they’ve gotten worse since we took off for Skagway and then came here...”

“I’m so sorry,” he apologized, eyes glassy with unshed tears, “I should’ve kept a closer watch over you. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s mine...I should’ve watched my own back better.”

You both fell into an awkward silence for several minutes before he spoke up again, the realization finally dawning on him. 

"Y/N."

"What?"

"Your wrist."

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you looked down and saw the star glowing brightly, sending a white-hot pain down your arm. "What about it?"

Steve pulled at his shirt's sleeve for a few seconds before lifting it up to reveal the same exact symbol.

"We're soulmates," you breathed out, the realization hitting you like a flash flood.

"Yeah, I guess we are, huh," he smiled softly.

“W-when did yours appear?”

“Monday afternoon.”

“Mine appeared in the morning...I showed it to Tony and Bruce and they said I had a week to find who it was or both me and my soulmate would die. So I guess we got lucky, huh? Only four more days, then...”

“Yeah, we did,” he exhaled. “I’m glad you’re the one. I can’t imagine living out the rest of my life with anyone else.”

“But Peggy...”

“She found her soulmate decades ago,” he explained, “which explained why our relationship was so short-lived. I didn’t expect to find mine...especially not after coming out of the ice. Maybe I had this coming from the get-go, I’d wonder...”

“Then how come they’d appear now?” Your brows furrowed together in confusion. “I don’t get it. We’ve known each other for years.”

“Because it was only this year that I accepted it.”

“Accepted what?”

“That I’d fallen in love with you, and I kept that inside for far too long.”

“You...what?” You were officially rendered speechless. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled lightly, face breaking into a gorgeous, million-dollar grin before turning serious again, lowering his voice. “Y/N, I’m in love with you. You are my infinity and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you. You’re my present and my future, and I hate that I couldn’t see that sooner. I should’ve known from the start that Peggy and I wouldn’t work out, but I never understood why...until I met you. I didn’t believe in the concept of soulmates because I felt I was undeserving of that love, but then you came along...and I started hoping and praying I’d find someone who’d love me as much as I love you. So now that I know for sure it’s you, that it always has been and always will be...I couldn’t be more happier that you’re my soulmate.”

You didn’t realize you were crying until he reached forward to brush your hair away from your face and wipe the stray tears that fell, before wrapping an arm around you and gently pulling you towards him.

“God, I made you cry, I’m so sorry,” he choked on a sob of his own. “I’m the worst.”

“I’m not mad at you, Steve,” you sniffed as you wiped your nose with your sleeve, and looked up and cracked a small grin. “You’re just so cheesy.”

“Can I kiss you?” he whispered, so quiet you almost didn’t catch what he said. 

“You can kiss me any day, Captain,” you smiled.

“I love you more than you know.”

“I know. I love you too.”

He then brought a hand up to cup your face, allowing his thumb to lightly skim against your cheek, his warm breath fanning against your skin.

When his lips met yours, it was like you were turning back the clock. Everything in the world stopped and held its breath,  and all the hurt, all the sadness and heartache and pain bottled up inside your body, washed away.

...

BONUS

“HOLY SHIT, Y’ALL ARE SOULMATES?”

The sound of Sam’s screeching made you finally break apart for air. You could’ve been like that for two minutes, two hours, or two weeks, you weren’t sure.

You blushed and quickly averted your gaze. 

Steve’s face was as red as a tomato. “Yeah. We are.”

“I KNEW IT! I KNEW SOMETHING WAS GONNA HAPPEN BETWEEN THEM SOON! PAY UP, BARNES! YOU OWE ME TWENTY BUCKS.”

“Come on, man,” Bucky groaned, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a crumpled twenty-dollar bill. “We’re gonna head back home soon, anyways! And you’re not even poor.”

“A bet’s a bet, Barnes.”

“Of course you two bet on it,” you groaned. “Classic Sambucky activity.”

...

NINE MONTHS LATER

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride, Captain Rogers,” Fury announced, a rare smile gracing his normally stoic features. 

Steve did his best not to break down sobbing as he slid the ring onto your finger. With the backdrop of the waves gently crashing against the shore and the sun slowly sinking lower and lower into the horizon, he leaned down and cupped your face in his hands, passionately pressing his lips to yours. Your soulmarks glowed brightly in tandem, lighting up in a brilliant gold hue. 

Needless to say, there wasn’t a single dry eye in the house. 

#avengers imagines #steve x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #marvel #avengers x reader #avengers #captain america #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #marvel fic #avengers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers fic #captain america fic #mcu #chris evans x reader #chris evans #chris evans imagine

[fonulyn]

fonulyn’s 2020 in fics

this is kind of exciting since in 2020 I did get a lot writing done, and it marks the second year in a row that I’m able to actually make one of these posts after that horrible not good at all terrible disastrous three and a half years when I wrote absolutely nothing. so it’s a triumph to get another one of these up! personal victory haha.

in total, in 2020 I wrote 148 fics, ranging from like 200 words to 34k (idk if those short things can be called fics but i just did). by pairing, there’s

13 of Joe/Nicky

58 of Piers/Leon

56 of Chris/Leon

(1 with Piers/Leon and Chris/Leon)

5 of the ot3 (Chris/Leon/Piers)

11 of Krauser/Leon

3 of Wesker/Chris (lmao still can’t believe this)

1 of Chris/Leon/Krauser

so. in retrospect, i did okay. 

it’s over 300 thousand words and I am kind of. surprised. and that is not counting the approximately 50k of wips i’m ignoring :’D

I’d also like to take a second to thank everyone who has ever sent me nice messages, commented on the fics, left reblogs or kudos, and the like. you’re what kept me going, I wouldn’t have gotten even half as much done otherwise.

without further ado, links to all of the fics under the cut! they’re organized by pairing, and the links take you to tumblr posts (bc I’m lazy) and a lot of them have a link in the post that takes you to ao3. (also can you see I put ~~so much~~ effort into naming the tumblr ficlets :’D feel free to laugh at me)

Joe/Nicky

a dog by any other name | 1,5k | The one wherein they end up owning a dog.

within the heart a flame of desires | 5,0k | Nicolo watches Yusuf have sex with others, desperately wishing he was with him instead. Until things change. He much prefers having Yusuf all for himself.

the world will wait | 2,4k | The one wherein Joe takes a lot of naps and the whole team gets to relax.

catch this | 650w | Every time Joe gets distracted (by Nicky), Andy tries to take him by surprise.

nobody’s perfect | 1,9k | Even immortal warriors have their weaknesses, Nile learns. Those just aren’t what she expected.

only in these arms | 780w | Nicky has trouble sleeping alone. Andy is a decent substitute, but only when Joe returns so does Nicky’s ability to get a decent night’s rest.

(please don’t explain) that time in Malta | 580w | Nile doesn’t think at first it would even be possible for Joe to be embarrassed. By anything. Until one evening, they talk about Malta.

cool it down boys | 400w | Andy gets no sleep. She gets revenge, though.

cowboy, baby | 340w | Nicky has the fashion sense of a sack of flour, and he is fine with that.

that day is not today | 4,9k | They struggle through the whole lab-experience. It isn’t the time yet to forgive Booker.

tea, soup and tlc | 2k | The one wherein Joe is not sick. At all. Nope. He isn't.

two drinks too many | 770w | Nicky is a little drunk. Joe loves him anyway.

safe haven | 3,9k | The one wherein everyone gets quality cuddles from Joe.

Piers/Leon

it was you that I found | 23,4k | Leon doesn’t really do relationships. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he always seems to be so bad at them. Of course entirely by accident he manages to build one without even realizing it. 

unexpected visitor | 690w | Piers is forced on bed-rest. At least Leon stops by.

got me all tied up (never let me go) | 4,0k | Piers doesn’t like suits. Leon loves Piers in a suit.

not so subtle | 210w | “Soo, were you checking me out all night, or was that just my imagination?” Leon asks suddenly, Piers chokes on his drink in surprise.

nighttime fools | 4,8k | Piers and Leon get arrested for public indecency. It’s not their fault, honest.

piers isn’t sick, really, he isn’t (he is) | 670w | “Oh, hi,” Piers said immediately, a goofy smile slipping onto his face. Man, he was happy to see Leon. So happy to see him.  

so you’ve met Xena | 620w | “Xena?” Leon turned to look at Piers, decidedly unimpressed. “You named your dog after the Warrior Princess?“

you’re cute, you know | 680w | Piers took the opportunity the second their gazes met. He grinned, as charmingly as he possibly managed, and said “You’re cute, you know that?“

kiss the nightmares away | 470w | Sleepily Piers blinked, trying to make his eyes work properly. He squinted at the digital clock on the bedside, and its harsh red numbers that told him it was 3:30, and confusedly he turned to frown at Leon. “Why aren’t you sleeping?“

smooth talking, Nivans, very smooth | 1,4k | Piers can not control what comes out of his mouth.

dream a little (dirty) dream of me | 1,3k | Piers wakes Leon up. That's it.

your shirt is my shirt | 950w | With a sigh Piers grabbed the only shirt available that wasn’t battery operated and obnoxious. It was Leon’s, so old that the print had faded completely, leaving only faint outlines behind. And when Piers pulled it on he grumbled again, realizing how tight it was.

here for you | 620w | Leon can’t sleep, but somehow Piers makes his anxieties bleed away. 

grand plans | 260w | “Are you seriously going to wear that?”

new puppy | 430w | “Hey there little guy.” Leon bent down to pick up the little puppy, straightening again to hold it against his chest. His hands looked almost comically large as the dog was so tiny, and carefully he cradled it close.

a little bit funny | 850w | So maybe Piers hadn’t slept properly in days, and the sleep deprivation was making him a little hysterical, but he didn’t even remember when a stupid comedy would’ve made him laugh so much.

for now our time is here | 4,4k | When Chris had told them to wait up and left them alone for a while, this probably wasn’t what he’d been expecting, but the second he’d closed the door behind himself the tension that had been brewing between Leon and Piers had snapped like a cord.

wanting too much | 1,1k | “Fucking hell, never do that to me again,“ Leon huffed out, clearly relieved beyond anything.

the prettiest agent with the prettiest hair | 1,2k | Piers stress-braids. Leon doesn't mind. And besides, Piers always undoes the braids whenever he's done with them. Until one night he forgets.

you can be the air that i breathe | 1,0k |  It wasn’t the first time Piers got punched in the face by a gigantic BOW so hard that the hit sent him flying. It was, however, the first time he was sent careening off a bridge and into the river below. And it was, definitely, the first time Leon saved his life.  

before I found you | 890w | The second Piers realized that the spikes covering the monster actually came off, and it was able to shoot them towards its attackers, it was already too late for him to react.

you don’t need to stay | 950w | Piers did his best to take care of Leon.  And as much as Leon appreciated it, he didn’t want to be a goddamn nuisance.

need me, baby, just a little stronger tonight | 2,1k | Leon really has to practice perfecting his poker face. At least he gets what he wants in the end.

be my valentine | 920w | “Are you sure?“ Piers asked for the tenth time, frowning down at the bar of Fazer blue chocolate. “I still think it’s… not a lot?”

you're the world that I wanna discover | 7,5k | The one wherein they buy a house, fall even more in love, and Leon reaches a breaking point.

call me (tell me what you feel) | 1,7k | Leon is stuck at the airport. At least he gets a nice phone call with Piers.

incentive to stay alive | 1,0k |  "Hey, Nivans, wake up,” he tried, but there was no answer, and he couldn’t help but let the worry in his voice. “Piers. Don’t you dare die on me. Chris would kill me if I let anything happen to his best sniper.”

blanket hog Leon | 880w | Grumbling, Piers turned around, and as he’d expected Leon was cozily wrapped in at least four blankets, leaving nothing for Piers, who was currently freezing his ass off.

I give you all I am | 2,0k | “Leon?” Piers approached in quick steps, watching recognition flicker in Leon’s eyes as he lowered his own weapon too. Leon was slumped against the wall, hunched over and holding his side, and there was something feverish about his eyes. Yet as soon as he realized it was Piers he gave a shaky grin, even if that was all he managed.

why are the gorgeous ones always taken | 810w | Piers blinked his eyes open slowly, expression scrunched up, and it took a long moment before he managed to actually focus his gaze on Leon’s face. When he did, a smile immediately bloomed on his face, and he even tilted his head a little. “Have I died and gone to heaven?” he croaked out, his voice rough from lack of use.

still intact | 1,1k | It took a week before the level of painkillers was correct and Piers woke up with a gasp instead of a scream. And the first thing he asked was for someone to kill him.

of guns and ...guns | 270w | Leon likes the way Piers handles his rifle. There’s drool involved.

always fashionable | 540w | Apparently having a crush on the well-dressed, professional Leon translated into being absolutely fucking in love with the sleep-mussed and squinty Leon.

misplaced phones and revelations | 660w | Chris finds Piers’ phone. Which turns out to be Leon’s phone. The two turn out to be dating. Chris feels kind of blind.

yee-haw! | 1,0k | Leon rides Piers. Wearing a cowboy hat.

you’re cute when you’re angry | 620w | When he’s stressed, Piers washes the dishes. Angrily.  

want to drink (with) you | 1,1k | Piers is an embarrassing drunk. Leon loves him anyway. 

and each one of us is a path somewhere | 22,2k | Piers gets thrown twenty years back in time. Into Raccoon City, 1998. He’d heard about what Leon went through that night, but he never thought he’d have to actually experience it himself. Together with bright eyed rookie Leon.

hold me close | 560w | Leon falls asleep against Piers’ shoulder. 

goatee man | 890w | Piers thinks growing a beard might make him look more manly. 

promises kept | 2,9k | Leon finds out Piers isn't dead after all. He's just locked up in a BSAA research facility with no one allowed in to visit.

stay with me tonight (stay until the end of life) | 2,2k | Leon doesn’t know I’m contacting you, but a fair warning, because I’m worried. He was found unconscious on the bathroom floor at 10AM. They took him to the hospital, but he checked himself out. Look after him, okay?  

4am | 760w | “What can I say,” Piers grinned against Leon’s neck, “I was dreaming of you.” He had no reservations about moving his hips, letting Leon feel just how nice the dream had been.

caffeinated | 550w | Someone gives Piers coffee. Leon knows what to do with that excess energy.

and i'm you and you're me | 7,0k | The one wherein Leon and Piers accidentally swap bodies.

girls’ day in bed | 780w | Piers and Leon wake up one morning with boobs and other assorted lady parts. It’s a fun day. (Spoiler alert: they have a lot of sex.)

worlds apart | 3,2k | Krauser kidnaps Piers to lure Leon to him. (feat. past Krauser/Leon)

not again | 530w | Watching Piers’ mutation brings Leon some very unfortunate flashbacks. (feat. past Krauser/Leon)

gorgeous | 300w | Piers calls Leon gorgeous.

the most comfortable pillow | 350w | Leon falls asleep with his head on Piers’ lap.

beautiful | 840w | Even after losing an arm and ruining half of his face, Piers is the most beautiful thing to Leon.

as seen in adult films | 580w | Piers doesn’t know one damn thing about dishwashers. He volunteers to fix one anyway.

never letting go | 260w | Leon is goddamn comfortable right here. He isn’t going to move a single inch.

nose kisses | 390w | Piers is cute when he’s cranky. Just ask Leon.

no other half could ever make me whole | 6,3k | The one wherein they get a scare and there's a proposal.

the luxury of being held | 690w | The fabric of Piers’ hoodie is the perfect place to hide. (feat. Theo’s amazing art)

just one step from heaven, one step from paradise | 2,7k | The one wherein Piers makes sure Leon doesn’t freeze, and they enjoy their vacation.

all is fair in war, love and Mario Kart | 600w | Piers sucks at Mario Kart.

Chris/Leon

if i never see all my dreams come true, the one that mattered the most was you | 5,9k |  Chris enlists Leon’s help on a mission as a clever ruse to make the man take a break he so obviously needs. 

and I don't want to know how slow the time must flow | 11,1k | Chris and Leon try to fight their way out of a castle and feelings take over.

you are my heart, you are my home | 3,2k | Chris is sick, and he’s being extra dramatic about it.

from the gates of longing | 5,5k | Chris volunteers to take Leon home, but ends up getting a lot more than he bargained for.

how to accidentally get adopted - a guide by Piers Nivans | 2,3k | Piers accidentally keeps calling Chris dad, and Chris and Leon sort of unofficially adopt him.

right here by your side | 1,9k | When Chris shows up to check up on Leon, four days into his self-imposed flu-exile, at first Leon wants to just throw him out. But then it turns into a relationship-building moment and suddenly he can’t mind all that much.

about time | 1,8k | Leon is freezing. Chris warms him up.

yet you'll lose yourself in me | 3,3k | The one wherein Chris is generously proportioned and Leon kind of loves it. (whispers: size kink)

beyond tomorrow | 1,7k | Leon ends up in the hospital after a mission, Chris hurries to see if he’s okay. Claire is already there.

look at those heart-eyes | 180w | Quickly Chris shook his head, reluctantly pulling his attention away from Leon.

there’s a cat in the sink | 220w | “There’s a cat in the sink, and we don’t own a cat.”

from the future | 300w | It’s 1998 and Leon comes face to face with himself, from 2017.

surprise redfield | 250w | “Don’t worry,“ Chris says, nonchalantly as if it’s an everyday occurrence that he’s standing in Leon’s kitchen.

need this feeling to last (there's no denying) | 2,4k | “Why don’t you fuck me yourself, you coward!“

something solid, something good | 520w | Chris was so warm, and that together with all the glorious skin-on-skin contact made Leon happily sink back into the embrace.

come closer | 520w | Leon is done with Chris being so careful around him.  

your arms around me | 690w | Chris woke up cold and alone.  

a needed break | 440w | Sometimes Chris got so single-mindedly stuck on a task that he forgot everything around himself.

the iron maiden | 820w | Suddenly it was hard to breathe, like he couldn’t fill his lungs with oxygen no matter how much he tried, to the point that his vision started to get blurry. 

robin hood: chris in tights | 480w | Chris’ face was twisted into a theatrical grimace as he tugged a little on the green tights we was wearing. They were like painted on and although he didn’t really have body issues in general, he couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about it.

luckless romance | 4,0k | Leon and Chris turn a drunken argument into something better. (Please note: The link takes you to the last part of six.) 

take my hand | 920w | The worst part, by far, is not seeing anything. There are sounds, people talking like he isn’t even in the room, machines beeping and doors opening, quick busy steps against the floor.

let me take you to the edge of the stars and back again | 3,0k | Chris takes his sweet, sweet time before he gives Leon what he wants.

I’m going to seduce you | 1,1k | Jesus Christ, they’d had sex. Leon groaned again, this time less because of the headache and more because he felt so unbearably dumb. He’d probably had the best sex of his life, and he couldn’t remember it.

a little help | 430w | Those fucking idiots, Claire thought for the millionth time, as she watched her brother give the biggest dumbest heart eyes at Leon, who was blissfully oblivious about everything going on around him.

the way to anyone’s heart (the answer is food, good food)  | 2,4k | Chris asks Leon to teach him how to cook. (Spoiler: Leon doesn't know how.)

oh the horror | 270w | “I seriously don’t understand why you want to watch this shit,” Leon groaned, pressing his face into Chris’ chest.

jealousy | 670w | Chris swallowed hard, downed the last of his beer, and took the leap. “I’m jealous okay.”

twist me up | 510w | Sure Chris had always known that Leon was flexible. Sure he had seen him even do these weird-ass yoga poses more than once. There was nothing new to it.

meet the parents | 600w | Leon brings Chris home for Christmas.

precious cargo | 930w | Chris lugs Leon around like luggage.

it's always been you | 870w  | The hardest thing for Leon was when someone he cared about was in danger but there was nothing he could do about it. And then Chris fell into a ravine.

come away with me (to another world) | 2,0k | Leon finally gets a vacation.

first time sucker | 930w | “I don’t know, because it’s fun?” Leon said. “I promise you, you’re missing out.”

read my scars | 1,9k | Chris learns about Leon's scars.

battered and bruised | 650w | Ignoring the bruises and scrapes he had, Chris turned around and sprinted towards Leon, gritting his teeth against the strain moving put on his side.

a different kind of proposal | 500w | “If you keep fucking me this good,“ he breathed out, unsure if Chris even heard the words, “I’ll have to marry you.“

welcome home | 370w | The door had barely fallen shut behind Chris when Leon was in his personal space, grabbing him by the lapels of the trench coat he was wearing so he could pull him in close for a kiss.

I’d always choose you | 280w | Ada was something they didn’t talk about. When someone, anyone, brought her up Leon clammed up and changed the subject. And Chris had tried to be understanding, had tried to be patient, had tried his very best to respect Leon’s boundaries with this. But Chris was only human.

fuck or die | 1,7k | Chris gets hit by a weird plant, and his hard-on just will not go down. Until Leon takes matters into his hands.

i need a hug | 470w | “I think,“ Leon sighed, but then it was like all fight bled from him and he slumped a little forward. “I need a hug.“

oh no there’s only one bed | 990w | “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s just one night. I’m sure you’ve slept with worse persons than me.”

the butt that became a pillow | 420w | Chris falls asleep on Leon.

like father like son | 2,8k | Leon finds out he has a son.

monster magnet | 1,1k | Leon didn’t know when it had become something he recognized so easily. When had it become so normal for mutated creatures to look at him with such unadulterated lust.

please be okay | 620w | Leon faints from sheer exhaustion. 

like father like... grandson? | 4,1k | Liam proposes to a girl but ends up with Piers anyway. Chris and Leon are the friendly neighborhood grandpas. Their grandson is adorable, and Leon thinks he takes after him. Obviously. (feat. Piers/OMC)

black lace | 790w | Chris gets to come home to Leon in thigh high black lacy stockings and matching lingerie, instantly sending Chris’ brains into an overdrive.

at least let me help | 790w | Leon opens the door an inch, Chris uses the given opportunity to slam it wide open. Metaphorically speaking.

bridal style | 200w | Leon refuses the medical check up. So Chris carries him.

dance with me | 1,0k | Wedding planning with two schmoopy idiots in love.

drunken cravings | 480w | Chris and Leon are drunk, hungry, and incapable of cooking.

blow me | 650w | Chris gets his brains sucked out through his dick.

Claire knows best | 610w | Chris tries to set Leon up with Claire. Then Claire does set Leon up with Chris.

chase the demons away | 940w | Chris struggles with nightmares, Leon is there to hold him through them.

dance me to the end of love | 550w | Leon struggles to learn to dance.

Piers/Leon, Chris/Leon

fate changed (we keep loving as if the story isn't over yet) | 34,3k | In hindsight, Leon knew the second he opened the door and saw Chris standing there, dressed in his service uniform, mouth pinched to a grim line and unable to meet Leon’s gaze straight. There was only one logical reason for it, only one way to explain why he was standing there like he would rather be anywhere else, and Leon almost slammed the door right in his face. --  Or the one wherein no one really knows how to handle their grief, but somehow life goes on anyway. (I’m still so proud of this one negl)

Chris/Leon/Krauser

hearts beating fast (let's make this moment last) | 5,7k | Chris gets invited in for a threesome. The clever thing would’ve been to refuse, knowing his unrequited, helpless feelings. But then again, he’s just a man.

OT3

double the fun | 3,1k | Truthfully, Leon hadn’t thought his day could get this much better. Everything had gone wrong from the second he’d woken up and he’d already written the day off entirely, until the moment Chris had looked him dead in the eye and asked “How do you feel about two at once?”

of cuddles and blanket forts | 620w | Piers and Leon build a blanket fort. Chris would think they’re idiots, but they might actually be kind of brilliant.

hair straightener or waffle iron? | 310w | Chris and Piers break Leon’s hair straightener.

the last piece of the puzzle | 2,7k | The one wherein two becomes three.

not alone | 2,3k | Completely on accident, Piers and Chris happen to be there to save Leon from a tight spot. Cuddles ensue.

Krauser/Leon

drive me crazy (your eyes made me crave for this) | 2,3k | It was the best sex Krauser had ever had in his life. That’s why he kept coming back to Leon, kept saying ‘yes’ every single time the man as much as hinted that he might be up for meeting. He was getting off, and he was enjoying every second of it, and that was the extent of it. There certainly weren’t any feelings involved. None. None at all. 

enjoying the view | 200w | Krauser likes ass-watching.

carry me to bed | 440w | Slowly Leon was coming back to his senses. Sweat was cooling on his skin, the hard surface of the table underneath him starting to feel uncomfortable.  

and I lied that we would be fine | 1,1k | Leon knows he isn’t supposed to be doing this. There’s a vague recollection of something more important, something he should be focusing on, but the vast majority of his world has narrowed down onto the slick slide of their bodies, on the cheap scratchy sheets on his skin, on the sound of Krauser’s voice in his ear, and he can’t bring himself to care.

yet never enough | 1,9k | Krauser likes mirrors.

of wanting | 400w | Leon’s laughter echoed in the room as Krauser pinned him against the wall, before shutting him up with a ravenous kiss.

better with you | 590w | Despite knowing Krauser had his back, Leon was genuinely surprised when the man sat down right next to him instead of telling him to suck it up and get moving.

breakfast | 530w | Lately things had slowly begun to shift. And Leon wasn’t sure yet what was going on. Or how he felt about it.

kill me now | 900w | It was more than clear how much Krauser enjoyed their frantic attempts to kill one another, and Leon’s traitorous body shivered in response, the memory of times long gone returning like no time had passed at all.

lust that I've already spilled | 1,4k | “C’mon, Leon,” Krauser taunted, grinning as widened his stance. “This cock isn’t gonna suck itself.”

will you just look at me | 650w | Krauser refuses to do feelings.

Wesker/Chris

I am the light that shall lead you to darkness | 1,8k | In all honesty, Chris wasn’t entirely sure how he’d ended up here: a panting mess, bent over a massive wooden table with Wesker holding him down laughably easily. 

the light to drown in darkness | 2,0k | Wesker craves Chris. So Wesker takes Chris.

love-hate-(obsession?) | 470w | Wesker is a lovesick fool. If he wasn’t also a homicidal maniac, Jill would almost feel sorry for him.

#the old guard #resident evil #kaysanova #chreon #metaltango #nivannedy #chrisker #kreon #idk what i'm forgetting it's 2 am and i've spent seven hours on this #have pity on me :'D #my fics #2020 #this was so much work #i am praying for the links to work properly #so i don't need to touch this again nnhhh

[worldwidemochiguy]

Reticence (soft! Yandere Hoseok)

Summary: You were always terrified of getting kidnapped when you were younger, and now that you’ve been taken by a man who claims to want to take care of you, you recede within yourself so far you refuse to even eat... but Hoseok is determined to let nothing hurt you, not even yourself.

Warnings: Kidnapping, kind of Stockholm syndrome, mentions of not eating so if you’re sensitive to that kind of stuff pls be careful <3 Yandere behaviour, though I am kind of romanticising it in this fic, please remember that that is all it is: Fiction. Obviously in real life this behaviour would be unacceptable and horrifying. 

Word Count: 2.2K

Masterlist :)

a/n: my first hobi fic!!! this is for @kpopgirlbtssvt​ from a request made about a billion years ago (sorry :/ ) for made-for-each-other verse! Yandere Hobi with a shy reader who wouldn’t talk even though he begged her to, and then him coming home from work to her telling him she missed him and was glad he was home. this was a lil less fluffy and a lil more angsty than i intended, but its still a ‘happy ending’ bc im a weak bitch with simple pleasures, what can i say lmao

Reticence

“What do you want for breakfast, sunshine?” 

Silence. 

Hoseok sighed, then straightened up again, walking over to the refrigerator. You remained sat by the kitchen island, empty gaze fixed on the marble countertop. 

“Omelettes it is, then!” He exclaimed with artificial excitement, trying to be cheery in the face of your taciturnity, but even the sunshiney optimist that was Hoseok was finding it more difficult than he expected. He had hoped that by now you would’ve accepted him, but you remained as quiet and unresponsive as the day he brought you home. Not that you thought of it as ‘home’ yet, but he hoped you would eventually. Hoseok was not a patient man, but he was willing to wait forever for you. 

You didn’t even blink when he set the plate down in front of you. It didn’t seem like you were going to attempt to eat it either. Hoseok sighed. He could understand if you didn’t want to talk to him yet — even though it had been months and he’d been nothing but kind to you — but he drew the line at refusing to eat. 

You had lost weight. The cute cheeks he loved to watch bunch up as you smiled were now sunken. Your beautiful figure which he had admired from afar was starting to become worryingly waif-like. Hoseok frowned, a crinkle between his brows forming for the first time as his usually exuberant features warped with agitation.

“Listen, Y/n-” Hoseok sat down at the kitchen island across from you, bracing his forearms against the table and leaning forwards. “You have to eat. I promise there’s nothing in it that could hurt you. Look, I’ll even eat it myself!” Hoseok carved out a small piece of the omelette and popped it in his mouth, exaggerating his chewing and swallowing. “See?” You offered no reaction, and Hoseok felt his disappointment join the omelette on its way down to his stomach. 

“I can understand that you maybe aren’t so happy with me right now, but that doesn’t mean you have to punish yourself. Just, please, please stop shutting me out.” His pleading tone did nothing to move you. You just sat there like a ghost, and a groan of frustration slipped out of Hoseok. 

“Please! I’m begging you! Just eat! I don’t understand, all I want to do is take care of you! All I want to do is love you, why won’t you accept me? Why won’t you even talk to me?” 

The only sound was Hoseok’s harsh breaths after his outburst. If he couldn’t see the slow rise and fall of your chest, Hoseok would think you weren’t alive at all. He slumped in his seat, allowing himself to wallow in self-pity for a moment, before forcing himself to get up and ready for work. When he passed through the kitchen again on his way out the door you were still sitting there, staring at the countertop. 

The front door banged shut, the sound echoing in the apartment. Then, silence. And then, very quietly, the noises of cutlery moving against a plate and chewing. 

~~~~~~

“I don’t know what to do~” Hoseok whined, his head buried in his hands. Around him, his shocked friends were gathered in an informal circle. Each of them had an expression with varying degrees of surprise and confusion — they had never seen Hoseok, the literal personification of sunshine, so dismayed. 

“It’ll be ok, Hoseok. I know it’s bad at the moment, but you just have to wait until she trusts you. Once you achieve her trust, you’ll both be the happiest you’ve ever been.” Taehyung reassured him. Taehyung was obviously the source of authority, since him and his wife were basically the perfect couple. 

“But what if she never trusts me?” Hoseok fretted, before groaning again. “She won’t even eat! I don’t know what to do, I’m just watching her slowly starve in front of me and she won’t even look at me!” The rest of the group paused as they digested this new information. It seemed this girl was particularly stubborn.

“Force feed her then.” Jin shrugged and Hoseok’s head shot up in outrage.

“No! I could never hurt her like that!”

“You’re hurting her by letting her starve.” Jeongguk pointed out, and Namjoon smacked the back of his head, chastising. Meanwhile, Hoseok looked like he was about to cry.

“Listen, Hoseok, are you sure this girl is the one?” Jimin questioned, bracing his clasped hands on his knees. 

“I know she is.” Hoseok replied with a conviction he rarely used. “The second she came into my life, it was like I was born again and she was the first thing I saw. The only thing I could see. Her face- God, it just… glows. She’s like sunshine. She’s an angel. She’s so beautiful and kind and fragile and I want to protect her from everything, and I don’t deserve her but no one else does either and I know we’re meant to be together. If I thought I could’ve let her go, I would have. But I can’t. I have to have her, she has to be mine.” 

The circle of men was quiet for a second, before a quiet chuckle broke the silence. 

“Well then,” Yoongi rasped, “if she’s all that you say she is-”

“She is.” Hoseok interjected fiercely.

“Then all you can do is have a little patience.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It was incredibly boring being kidnapped. Especially when your kidnapper did nothing interesting except make bad food and dance along to music from the TV surprisingly well and cry sometimes when you wouldn’t look at him. Frankly, it would have been easier if he were more of the torturey-type, because it was really hard to stay stubborn in the face of his sparkling eyes and radiant smile.

When you were younger, there was a poster up on the wall of your homeroom at school. On it was an old man with an ugly sneer and a beige trench-coat, with the slogan ‘DON’T TALK TO STRANGERS’ superimposed in glaring red letters. You used to stare up at the poster and wonder how anyone could be so stupid as to talk to someone who looked like that. 

You were never afraid to yell ‘STRANGER DANGER’ at the highest decibel your little lungs could manage whenever a person brushed too close to you in the mall. It was almost a habit — you were avidly fixated on your own personal safety, much to your mother’s chagrin and public embarrassment. Being banned from all the surrounding stores within a 20 mile radius had two consequences:

You had to drive forty minutes for a new pair of socks.

You stayed at home a lot more than you went out.

You became a homebody, and it was certainly not something you were unhappy about. Staying safe in your room meant there was less risk for someone to kidnap you. The comforting layer of your blanket was a shield from everything bad in the world. When your parents were arguing constantly, screaming at each other every other night, you would just tuck yourself in and read a bedtime story on your own since they were both occupied. When your parents eventually divorced, you buried yourself under your duvet rather than answer their questions about who you wanted to stay with, and what your preference was. When your mom died in a car crash, and your dad started drinking, your mattress was the shoulder you could cry on, your blanket was a warm arm holding you close. You had always felt safe in your bed. Perhaps that was why you were having such an averse reaction to being taken from it.

Hoseok was not a man with an ugly sneer and a trench coat. He had an impeccable sense of style, and his smile was breathtaking on the few occasions that it appeared. You more often saw his face twisted into a pained grimace. For a kidnapper, he was awfully sensitive. You were pretty sure it was reasonable for you to be holding grudge, and it’s not as if you were actively fighting against him or anything. You were just refusing to acknowledge him. You were highly skilled at repressing things, or ignoring them, and you were resolved to do the same now. 

By 7 o’ clock, your resolve was slightly eroded. Hoseok always arrived back at half-past 5 on the dot. He was a very punctual person, and you felt an unwelcome sense of worry curl along the edges of your mind as the clock counted away the seconds of him not being there. You remembered feeling the same way when you waited for your mom to pick you up from your dads, watching the clock hand sweep past the numbers, increasingly taunting. Of course, you hadn’t realised that she was at the time caught in between a lorry with a drunk driver and a very steep incline. You wondered if you were being similarly clueless now. 

When the door clicked open at quarter to 9, you had to restrain yourself from exhaling in relief. Hoseok came in looking slightly disheveled, his collar undone and his hair mussed as if he had ran his hands through it over and over again. He gave you a quick once over to see if you were alright, shot you a small, forced smile and then went straight to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

That was odd. He never closed the door to his bedroom. He had always left it open in case you needed anything, despite your refusal to acknowledge him. First, his late arrival and now yet another uncommon action? You felt curiosity bubble within you. That was it. Curiosity. It’s not that you were at all worried about him, you were just being nosy. Of course. 

You tiptoed towards the door, tracing a finger around the door frame lightly. What if he didn’t even come out again for dinner? You doubted he had dined out without you, he had been eating his meals sitting across from you while you refused to touch yours since the day he stole you. You really should check on him, if only for the fact that if he dies then you’re trapped here with a high chance of starvation.

Before you could convince yourself not to, you opened the door and stepped inside. The only light-source came from the moonlight filtering through the window, casting Hoseok’s form lying on the bed in a deep blue. His eyes, which you assumed had been closed previously, shot open to observe you as he propped himself up on the backs of his forearms.

“Y/n.” He rasped, and a pleasant shiver ran down your spine. “D-do you need anything?” His tone was both excited and confused, probably because you had literally never directly interacted with him before. 

You didn’t speak, and for the first time your silence was due to speechlessness, rather than a conscious desire.

“I-I, uh,” You stuttered, and Hoseok sat up ramrod straight, hearing your voice for the first time. “You… were late home.”

Hoseok felt like he couldn’t breathe. Your voice was so soft and pretty, fuck, and you were actually looking at him, you were actually talking to him, holy shit- and you called the apartment home. You said he was late ‘home’. Hoseok somehow managed to keep his shit together. 

“I was?”

“Yes.” You confirmed with a small nod of your head. Fuck, you were so cute. “You normally come back at half five. It’s almost nine now.”

“I’m sorry. I was working late.” He was staying at the office because he felt guilty for not taking proper care of you and wanted to avoid seeing the proof of your unhappiness, but you didn’t need to know that. 

“It’s ok.”

You remained standing at the foot of the bed, locked in his gaze. The bed looked so comfortable, moulding to support his body, and his warm body was exactly the comforting presence you were searching for all those years ago and you found yourself asking,

“Can I sleep in the bed with you?” 

It was a quiet, timid suggestion but Hoseok reacted to it like a bombshell. His eyes practically popped out of their sockets and his entire body tensed. You were about to rescind your offer when he reached out a tugged a corner of the blanket down, welcoming you into the warmth. 

You awkwardly sat on the edge of the mattress, nudging off your house slippers with your toes before slipping under the covers. The relief was instantaneous, shrouded in comforting and familiar warmth, and you couldn’t stop yourself from plastering yourself against his side, arm reaching out tentatively to rest on his chest. You felt his muscles jump under your touch, before his arm slid under you and tucked around your shoulders, drawing you into him closer. You closed your eyes, letting out a quiet little sigh, and you let yourself say the words you wish you could’ve said all those years ago when your mother never returned.

“I’m glad you’re home. I missed you.” 

#yandere bts #soft yandere bts #bts hoseok #bts jhope #bts hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #yandere hoseok x reader #bts imagines #bts fanfiction #bts fic #bts fanfic #jung hoseok

[yikesharringrove]

Umm, I accidentally deleted the request for this while moving it to my inbox, so here it is. (Also this is like, four months old).

I’m gonna rec this fic which is super well written and adorable

Steve is ftm. (Personally, I’m not a big fan of mpreg unless it’s like, biologically plausible 🤷‍♀️)

Under the cut bc it’s long and there’s a little bit of smut.

-

Billy’s hands were shaking as he raced out of the house.

He had a bag slung over one shoulder, had already put two others in the Camaro.

His dad had gone in hard today. Three days after Billy graduated high school and he’s already calling him a deadbeat, a fuck up. Telling him to get a job like he hasn’t worked every summer and most weekends since he was fourteen.

He lit a cigarette as he slid into the driver’s seat.

He was gonna make one stop on the way outta town.

-

Steve had given Billy a spare key months ago, after he was tired of always having to go downstairs and answer the door.

He liked it when Billy just made his way up, started kissing whatever skin was already exposed and asking Steve if he’s wet.

Tonight, Steve thought, was no different.

Billy was kissing up his calf, mouthing along his knee, a few fingers creeping up the leg of his shorts.

Billy was the best sex he’s ever had. Not a lot of gay guys will go down on Steve, some won’t even fuck him. He had been real hesitant to tell Billy, start having regular sex with his best friend, because he didn’t think Billy would want anything to do with him when he knew what he was bringing to the table.

But Billy had told him not to be an idiot, ate him out, and pounded him into the mattress.

And Steve was in love.

So he let Billy fuck him whenever he pleased, because at least Billy was giving him the time of day, at least he was getting some.

He opened his eyes, smiling lazily down at Billy.

“‘Time is it?”

“Almost two.” Billy was curling two fingers into his waistband, slowly pulling down his shorts, like maybe Steve wouldn’t notice.

Steve lifted his hips, and Billy whipped off his shorts, diving right in for his pussy.

He ate him out with the same fervor he did everything. Making all these gross slurping sounds, sucking on Steve’s cock and shoving his tongue inside him.

He made Steve cum twice on his face, as was the norm, before wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, and getting right to business.

He fucked Steve like he was mad at him.

He often did. And Steve knew he wasn’t mad at him, moreso mad at the other him, the him that’s ruined Billy’s life since before he was even born.

Steve wasn’t as dumb as everyone thought. Knew that when Billy snuck into his bedroom at odd hours of the night and absolutely ravished him, something bad had happened with his dad.

So when Billy finally rolled off of him, and lit a cigarette, Steve knew better than to ask.

“I’m leaving.” Steve just hummed at him. Billy sometimes stuck around after sex.

But Billy didn’t move.

“Like, leaving Hawkins.” Steve just hummed again. Billy talked a lot about leaving Hawkins. Steve had always secretly dreamed of running away with him. 

Billy just studied his face in the dark, stubbing out his cigarette and rolling over to hols Steve close to his chest.

Steve closed his eyes, let himself pretend.

Pretend that Billy loved him back.

-

He woke up to rustling, Billy getting dressed to leave as weak sunlight began to trickle through his curtains.

“Oh shit, didn’t mean to wake you.”

He smiled lazily at Billy.

“You comin’ back over tonight?” Billy looked stiff.

“Probably not. Sorry.”

“That’s okay. I’ll see you later, then.”

“Yeah. Later.” Billy was sitting on the end of his bed, had just finished tying on his boots.

And then he moved, quick as a flash to kiss Steve softly before he was thundering down the stairs.

Steve was just falling asleep as the Camaro roared away.

-

Billy had skipped town that night.

And Steve never forgave himself.

-

Steve was leaning over the counter, his head pressed into the cool top of it.

“I threw up all last week, and I just feel like shit.” He had been whining to Robin practically all morning at Family Video.

“Do you think you have the flu?”

“I don’t know, Rob. I mean, my stomach hurts a lot, but like, it feels like I’m just having awful cramps.”

“Are you on your period?”

“Nah. Don’t get it very often with the hormones anymore.”

“Normally I’d suggest pregnancy, but I know you’re in a bit of a dry spell.” He rolled slightly to look darkly at her. “Still no word of Billy?”

“No. The one person in Hawkins that isn’t too transphobic to fuck me, and he skips town.” Steve sighed. “I should’ve known, too. He was being super weird that night.”

“Whatever. When you and I skip town, we’ll have the time of our damn lives, and get you laid.” He laughed softly.

“I’m just gonna go to the doctor this weekend. Get a full physical.”

“Let me know the verdict at and I can come over with some medicine, if you need.”

“Thanks, Rob.”

-

Steve was lying back on the stiff exam table.

He had already given blood and urine samples, and was just waiting for the doctor to tell him what the fuck was wrong with him.

Sometimes his hormones had to be adjusted, and caused all sorts of weird shit to go haywire in his body.

Dr. Mauch was a kind woman, always been pleasant and accepting of Steve, even referred him to an endocrinologist for his hormones.

She didn’t smile when she came in, though. Just sat down at her stool.

“I’m going to go out a limb here and say that this is not news you’ll be happy about hearing.”

Steve felt his heart drop to his stomach.

“You’re pregnant.”

He blinked.

“No.”

“I’m sorry, Steve. But you most definitely are.”

“But, but I’m on blockers, and testosterone, and I haven’t had sex in months.”

“I’d say about six months.” His mouth was dry. Billy had left in late May. About six months ago. “And being on hormones is not an effective method of birth control. Some men still get pregnant after taking them.”

“I’m not, I don’t look pregnant.”

“Some people don’t really show their pregnancy. My sister was rail thin the entire time, had a perfectly healthy baby girl. It’s all about your body type.”

“So, so you’re telling me, that I’m six months fucking pregnant.”

“Yes.” He slumped back onto the exam table.

“What are, what are my options?”

“Well, unfortunately, not many. Abortions are only legal in Indiana up to 20 weeks, or five months, or unless the person pregnant is facing severely compromised physical health. There’s always adoption.”

“No one’s gonna want a baby from a trans guy.” She pursed her lips.

“I think that’s a harsh statement. Many people are desperate for babies.” Steve just stared at her.

“So, if I have to take it to term, should I like, go off my hormones.” His stomach gave a lurch at the idea.

“I would recommend it. There’s very little research one pregnancy in transgender individuals. We really don’t know how hormones can affect the baby.” Steve sighed. “I would say, get in with an OB/GYN. I can recommend a few I know and send them your medical history. Your name change and hormone therapy is part of all of it, so hopefully they will be kind.” Steve sighed.

“Thank you, Doc. I really appreciate it.”

“I’m sorry for the disappointing news.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” She gave him a copy of their appointment notes, a list of OB/GYNs for him to research, and a hug before she left.

He drove home slowly, feeling exhausted, like the weight of the fucking world was on his shoulders.

He got home to find Robin sitting on his front porch, her nose buried in a book, a pizza box sitting next to her.

She looked up at him, and he burst into tears.

-

“Look, Max, if he contacts you in any way, tell him to call Steve, okay? It’s important.” Robin was yammering to Max on the phone, trying to get a way to contact Billy.

Steve was laying on the couch, had his shirt rucked up over his stomach, pushing it out and sucking it in, trying to see any change in his body.

“Just give him Steve’s phone number and tell him he’s an asshole.” She hung up the phone, perching on the armrest at Steve’s feet.

“She know where he is?”

“No. She said he ran off and hasn’t contacted her at all. She didn’t even know he was leaving.” She slid onto the couch, let Steve put his feet on her lap. “You think he’d come back? If he knew?”

“I don’t know. I’m not really asking him to. I mean, I don’t think I’m in a place to take care of it, but I kinda just want him to know it exists. Like, I think he deserves that.”

“I get it.” Her voice was soft. She watched Steve stare at his tummy some more. “I’m sorry. I’m sure this is just, dysphoria out the wazoo.” Steve huffed a laugh.

“I don’t think it’s really hit me yet. I think ‘cause I’m not showing. I don’t look pregnant, so how can I be pregnant, you know?” He sighed tugging down his shirt. “Going to the doctor’s gonna be a damn nightmare, though. They’re too used to dealing with women. It’s gonna suck.”

-

Steve was right.

Even though his primary care doctor had sent his medical history, he still got deadnamed and misgendered at reception, and intake, and by the nurse, and the doctor when she finally arrived.

They gave him a pelvic exam, getting him in for a sonogram as well.

And as the doctor was moving the imagining wand around on his tummy, and he heard the heartbeat for the first time, something caved inside of him.

A baby. He was having a baby.

And part of him, a really fucking big part of him, was starting to love it.

-

His parents were home for four days.

And Steve had waited for the final day of their homesteading to tell them.

He’s glad he did.

Diner was as quiet as always, and Steve had nearly choked on the words.

“I’m pregnant.”

His father had gotten out his wallet, asked how much an abortion costs.

“I’m too far along for that. Nowhere will legally do it.”

His mother had just stared at him. His father asked how far along he was.

“Close to seven months. I didn’t even know until like, a week and a half ago.”

And his father had stood up, and the yelling began.

“I can’t believe you. You kick up this huge fuss, make us change your name, and the way we refer to you, go around telling everyone your a boy, and you get pregnant like the little slut you are.”

And he had told Steve to back his shit, told him he was not welcome in my house anymore.

And Steve didn’t have a lot of shit he cared about, the clothes he liked fit in one duffel bag.

His mother didn’t look at him as he left.

-

He had called Mrs. Henderson from a payphone.

Nobody else could give him a ride anymore, and he wasn’t expecting her to drop everything and drive him somewhere, but she had freaked out at the words kicked out and for getting pregnant, and told him to stay where he is.

She was there with a tight hug and a travel mug of honey lemon tea within twenty minutes.

Steve had asked for a ride to a youth shelter he had read about, but she shook her head, said you’re coming to live with me and Dusty and Steve had cried in her passenger seat, and again in her guest bedroom.

-

Steve groaned.

He had finally begun showing, just a little bit out a mound near his belly button.

But he felt like shit, had taken to spending most days in bed.

He bat away whoever was shaking him.

“Go away.”

“Steve, it’s Max.”

“I’m sleeping.”

“I found Billy, you asshole. I have his address.” Steve sat bolt up straight.

“You, where is he?”

“Boston. He went east, for some reason. But he sent me a letter, out of the blue, and I told him you had something important to say, but he said he doesn’t have a phone.” She handed him a slip of paper.

“Thanks, Max.” He gave her a weak smile, found her chewing her lip.

“Is he the father? The other father, I mean.” He had told the party about the pregnancy, figured rumors would begin spreading soon enough.

“Yeah. He’s the other father.”

“He wouldn’t have ditched you. If he’d known.”

“I know.”

“He’s not like that.”

“I know.” She stared him down. He kept his face open, honest.

“Are you gonna write to him?”

“Yeah. I just, I don’t really know what to say.”

“Just keep it simple. Tell him he’s got a kid. Let him choose what he wants.”

-

It took Steve almost a month to draft a letter.

He didn’t really know what to say.

He settled on the bare minimum.

I’m pregnant. And it is most definitely, without a doubt, yours. I’m not expecting anything from you. I don’t want money, or for you to move back to Hawkins. I just thought you deserve to know about your kid.

He read the letter about three times, one hand pressed delicately to his little bump.

I’ve decided to keep the baby. I’m going to raise them. You’re welcome to meet them, and be in their life if you choose, but if not, I’m not going to hold it against you.

He sealed the envelope, leaving it on his nightstand.

And then his contractions started.

He didn’t get around to sending it.

-

Claudia was the only person in the room with him when he gave birth.

She held his hand the whole time, coached him through his breathing.

And when his son was born, she pet his head, told Steve how beautiful he is.

-

Steve was slumped face down on the bed.

He had just gotten Oliver down, calmed him down enough for him to finally sleep.

He rolled over, scrubbing a hand down his face.

He had barely slept all week. But Oliver had smiled at him for the first time yesterday.

He turned to lay on his side, zeroing in on the envelope on his nightstand.

He sat up quickly.

Fuck. He needed to send that letter.

He didn’t bother thinking about it, just wrapped his sweater tighter around himself, and hurried to the mailbox. He put the little flag up, leaving the letter in the little inner clasp.

He looked back down at Oliver, running one finger over his fuzzy little head.

-

He didn’t hear from Billy for three weeks.

He knew the letter wouldn’t take more than a few days to get to him, and it would take just as long for Billy to get him back.

He had pushed Billy out of his mind, figured if he wanted to be part of Oliver’s life, he had given him enough of a chance to be.

He put on a thick sweatshirt, had taken to wearing baggy tops to hide his tits, too sore, too big to bind anymore. Oliver squealed at him when he leaned against the side of his crib, reaching out for him.

He strapped him into his stroller to take him on a walk, stopped dead in the doorway.

Billy fucking Hargrove was in the driveway, standing next to the Camaro like he had just gotten out of it.

His eyes were wide, trailing from Steve, to Oliver, and back again.

“Is that my kid?” Billy’s hair was shorter than when he had left.

“Oliver. His name is Oliver.” Billy stepped around the car.

“Can I, can I see him?” Steve brought the stroller down the driveway, taking Oliver out of the stroller.

Billy held him like he was made of gold.

“He’s beautiful.”

“I think he looks a lot like you.” Billy smiled at him.

“Thank you for telling me. I’m sorry I couldn’t get here, I was waiting for my semester to end.”

“It’s okay. I just, you know. Thought you deserved to know about him.” Billy stared at Oliver, his smile going soft as Oliver squealed, tugging on Billy’s hair.

“I want to be in his life. If that’s okay?”

“Of course it is. He’s your son too.” Billy brushed his thumb down Oliver’s nose.

“Thank you, Steve. And I’m, I’m sorry about how I left. I was going to-” he cut himself off, looking back at Oliver. “I was gonna ask you to come with me. Chickened out last minute.”

Steve’s heart was banging against his rips.

“I would’ve gone with you. Used to dream about running away with you.” Oliver started getting fussy, making disgruntled little huffs. Billy passed him back to Steve. “I was in love with you. You know that?”

“Yeah, I knew that. Was to chicken shit to do anything about it.” Billy was still looking at Oliver, the way he nestled into Steve’s neck. “He loves you a lot.”

“It’s been the two of us for awhile.”

“You’re a good dad. Always kinda figured you would be, though.” Billy took another breath. “You know, you could’ve told me sooner. I would’ve come back.”

“I don’t want you to, to change you life. Don’t quit school, or something.”

“Steve, I got a kid. I want to change my life for him. For, for you.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“No never did. I’m choosing this. I’m choosing my family.” Steve hesitated.

“Would you like to come in? Have some breakfast? You could give Oliver his bottle, If you wanted.” Billy’s eyes lit up.

“I’d like that.”

#kinda open ended but this shit was getting LONG #yikes writes #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #harringrove fic #harringrove ficlet #harringrove drabble #mpreg #trans!steve harrington #trans!steve #trans steve #trans steve harrington

[aerynwrites]

A Twist of Fate

Javier Peña x Reader Soulmate AU!

Author’s Note: Okay y’all, not sure how i feel about this one lol, I’m kinda on the fence about it? But I kinda like it? Idk, you guys let me know what you think! ALSO! I highly recommend listening to - Oh, What a World by Kacey Musgraves in the last half of the fic, bc it was kinda the inspiration behind this idea.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Angst, cursing, blood, minor injury, fluff.

/////

Living in a world where soulmates are determined from the day you turn fifteen sounds like something out of a science fiction book. Yet, here you were, living it every goddamn day. Most people love it, they love the idea that there is someone out there for them. Someone that is meant for them and only them until the day they leave this earth.

Not you.

You woke up on the morning of your fifteenth birthday, a Friday if you remember correctly, and you were beyond excited to see the words appear on your wrist. The words that your soulmate would say to you the moment you met. However, as you bolted upright in bed and pulled your sleeve up your arm, you felt your heart drop when there were no words on your wrist at all. You had run, panic written all over your face, to your mother who just smiled and said that sometimes it takes a few hours to appear. Afterall, hers didn’t show up until the afternoon of her special day. Your excitement came rushing back as you continued to get ready for school, but as the day came to a close…the words were still no where to be found.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, and the nights after when words still failed to appear on your wrist. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months and you finally gave up on the idea of ever seeing the fateful words on your wrist. Your friends tried to console you, your parents took you to multiple specialists, but no one could tell you why the words never appeared.

Why you didn’t have a soulmate.

Eventually you grew out of the childish hope of having a soulmate, you could find happiness elsewhere, you were sure. You threw yourself into your schoolwork, excelled in it and eventually, after college, you landed a job in the DEA. You worked there for several years, quickly becoming a senior agent and creating a name for yourself. A name that your superiors caught onto and the reason you were transferred to Colombia to help the other DEA agents take down Escobar.

That’s how you ended up here, sitting across from Steve Murphy while Javier Peña was discussing the reports of the latest take down to the ambassador. Your eyes kept glancing up at the clock, counting down the seconds until you could go home. You returned your eyes back to your paperwork and bounced your leg impatiently before casting another look at the clock a few feet away.

“What has you so worked up?” Steve huffs, taking his eyes from his desk to look at you instead.

You just shrug, not really wanting to talk about it, “Nothing. Just ready to go home is all,” you say lamely, tapping your pen against the desk absentmindedly.

Steve rolls his eyes before a shit eating grin works his way onto his face and he leans back in his chair, “Oh…” he sighs, “I bet I know what it is.”

You sit up straighter and cross your arms, “I highly doubt that Steve,” you retort, trying to get him to back off.

He just chuckles, “Oh yeah I do. I bet you and Michael have some plans, am I right?” he asks smugly.

At the mention of the man’s name, your heart drops into your stomach and a frown tugs at the corner of your lips. He was the last thing you wanted to talk about.

“No Steve, we don’t have plans,” you bite, looking away from him.

At that very moment the one man you really didn’t want to have this conversation with came waltzing back through the door, glancing between you and Steve, “Who doesn’t have plans?” Javier asks, innocently.

You wave your hand in the air, trying to dismiss the conversation, “It’s nothing Javi, Steve is just-“

“just trying to figure out why miss (y/n) over here is so anxious to leave the office,” he says teasingly, “I think it’s because she has plans with Michael – if you catch my meaning,” he says suggestively, elbowing Javier.

You see Javier clench his jaw at Steve’s words, an action that doesn’t surprise you since he never seemed to like the guy you were dating anyways, but you don’t dwell on it too long before you’re leaning across your desk and smacking Steve’s hands with a nearby folder.

“I don’t have any plans with Michael!” you say defiantly, “Now will you just fucking drop. It.” You spit out the words, irritated that your friend won’t just leave you alone.

Steve just laughs, “Oh come on (y/n), I’m just having a little fun! You’ve been together for a while, now right? I’m surprised he hasn’t dropped the question yet. Guy’s crazy about you from what I hear from the other agents,” he says casually.

You feel tears sting the back of your eyes at the mention of something that could never be, and you have to choke out a response, “Yeah, well-“ you cough, trying to hide the tears in your voice, “he dumped me last night. So, I doubt he’ll be asking ‘the question’ anytime soon,” you say bitterly, slumping back into your seat.

Javier and Steve’s eyes go wide at the news and surprisingly Javier was the one to speak up first, “he dumped you? Just like that?” he asks, bewilderment and, if you didn’t know any better, you’d say you heard a slight tinge of hope in his voice.

You don’t look at either of them, afraid that if you do, you’d burst into tears right that moment, “Yeah…” you whisper, “just like that.”

“What in the hell-“ Steve begins, but you shake your head.

“I really don’t want to talk about it guys, can we just drop it? Please?” you beg.

Steve shakes his head, apparently not hearing your plea, “That asshole…I swear to god if I see his ass I will-“

“Steve please!” you call, “He had every reason to do it.”

Javier jumps in at this point, “What possible reason could he have for just dumping you out of nowhere?”

You shake you head, eyes glancing up to the clock and realizing it was time to go, you quickly stood from your chair, desperate to avoid telling them the one thing you hated about yourself, “I’ve got to go guys” you whisper, trying to gather your things as they continue to badger you with questions within the small space of your shared office.

“did he cheat on you?” “did he get another job?”

“I just can’t believe-“

Just as you retrieved your gun from your desk drawer you slammed it shut, silencing both men as you blurted out the only thing running through your mind the entire day, “He left me because he found his soulmate! Okay?” you cry, barley holding back the tears threating to spill, “He left me for her, even thought he has no goddamn idea who she is. There! Are you happy now?” You bark out the words before turning on your heel and leaving the office, ignoring the calls of apology from your partners.

------

When you finally got back to your apartment, you dumped your stuff by the door and went immediately to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of the strongest alcohol you had. Once you poured the dark amber liquid into the glass your eyes fell to the bottle and realized that it was a gift that Michael had given you for your anniversary. As you stared at the bottle, you felt all the emotions and tears you had been holding back all day finally spill over. It felt like your heart was being torn into a million pieces – not really over Michael leaving you – but at the thought that you would probably be truly and utterly alone for the rest of your life.

You hated this. You hated the stupid tattoos on everyone’s wrists. You hated Michael. You hated his soulmate. You hated the world. At the last thought a harsh sob pulled itself from your throat just as you let out an anguished cry and threw the glass in your hand across the room, watching as it hit the opposite wall with a satisfying crash, the untouched liquid spraying across the wall and floor.

In your emotional and irrational state, the small act gave you some sense of control – a sense  of satisfaction. So, without even thinking, you took the bottle in your hand next and threw it against the ground, watching as it hit the ground with a loud shatter before going silent once more. And as quickly as the satisfaction came, it seemed to leave all at once, and your tears returned full force as you leaned against the fridge and slid to the ground. You were so caught up in you thoughts that you didn’t even hear the rapid knocking on your door or the sound of it opening and footsteps rapidly approaching you until a familiar figure hovered in front of you.

“(y/n)? Jesus Christ – “ Javier’s voice spoke as he looked around you, “What the hell happened?” he asked.

You didn’t respond, you just looked blankly at the man in front of you as he grabbed your hands in his gently, moving to help you up, but he paused when his hands met yours, “Shit – you’re bleeding,” he said, tone serious yet concerned.

His words finally got your attention and you looked down to where his hands cradled yours and sure enough, the palms of your hands had a few cuts on them. Most likely from the glass scattered around you.

Javier let out a small sigh as he took in your shattered state, and he felt his heart constrict at the thought of what you must be going through. He turned away from you momentarily to retrieve the first aid kit he knew you kept under the sink. Once he had that, he tucked it under his arm before picking you up bridal style and walking you into your living room, sitting you down on the couch and taking your hands in his own once more. He started to tend to your wounds in silence, meticulously disinfecting them and wrapping a bandage around them. Neither of you said anything for a while, until he finally broke the silence.

“You’ll find them eventually you know,” he said quietly, pushing past the lump in his throat as he did.

You looked at him, a confused look on your face, “What?”

Javier sighed, “Your soulmate – you’ll find them eventually,” even if I don’t want you too.

He had to bite his tongue before the last words slipped out. He had been harboring feelings for you since the moment you walked into the embassy. He had even planned to ask you out to dinner a few weeks after you had arrived, but when you came in gushing about Michael – it crushed any hope he had of being with you. Honestly, as much as he hated to admit it to himself, he felt a little spark of hope shoot through him when you told him you and Michael had broken up. But now, as he looks at the toll it has taken on you, all he felt was guilt. So, when you let out a humorless laugh, it was his turn to be confused.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

You shook your head, another tear slipping down your cheek, and he had to restrain himself from wiping it away as you spoke, “I don’t have a soulmate Javi,” you whimpered.

He felt his eyes widen at your admission, “you what?” he asks incredulously.

This time you hold your arms out to him, palms up to show him your bare wrists. Javier looked at them in a mixture disbelief and utter elation, thumbs rubbing your wrists lightly and you sigh a little at the contact. Deep down, you had always harbored feeling for your partner, it felt like an instant connection the moment you met, but the minute you found out about his habits, you dismissed the feelings, refusing to sign up for the hurt that was sure to come from a relationship with Javier. You realized after a moment in thought that you had never said anything after Javi, his thumbs still rubbing soothingly over your wrists, waiting patiently for you to respond.

You took in a shaky breath, “The words never appeared when I turned fifteen…or the years after,” you said lowly, “We went to so many specialist, talked to different people, scoured the library and newspapers for something – anything that would explain what was happening but-“ your voice cracked, and you shrugged your shoulders, “nothing. We couldn’t even find another case of this happening to someone,” a new wave of tears poured from your eyes as sobs wracked your body, “I’m going to be alone forever Javi-“ you cry, leaning forward as he pulls you into a tight embrace, “and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it,” you finally whisper.

Javi didn’t say anything at first, weighing his words as he held your shaking form in his arms. You both stayed like that until your sobs turned into small hiccups instead, and Javi finally decided to speak up.

“That’s not true,” he said quietly, hands rubbing up and down your back slowly.

You pulled away from him slightly, wiping at your nose as you sniffled, “What?”

Javier turned his gaze to the floor, uneasiness filling his mind as he struggled to utter the words he had been wanting to tell you for years now, “You don’t have to be alone – you’re not alone (y/n).”

You looked at him confused, unsure of what to say, so Javi took this as his cue to continue. He quickly pulled up the sleeve of his jacket and took his watch off, the one you always assumed covered his soulmate tattoo, only to reveal a blank expanse of skin – exactly like yours. You let out a small gasp and your eyes immediately snap to meet his own.

“You don’t – there’s no-“ your mind is running a million miles a minute at the realization that you are, in fact, not alone in the world.

Javier just sends you a small smile, “I never got my words either,” he admits, “So I just gave up all together, used it as an excuse to throw myself into my work and sleep around. But that was only until-“ he stopped in his tracks, weary of if he should continue down this path, and possibly ruin the partnership and friendship you both had.

You looked at the man crouched in front of you expectantly, hoping, praying he would say the words you had been thinking all these years. Even when you were with Michael.

His adam’s apple bobbed as he struggled to swallow and finally spoke, “Until I met you,” he said softly.

As soon as the words left his mouth, you slid from the couch to kneel in front of him and brought your hands to the back of his neck, pulling him into a hesitant but passionate kiss. Javier was uncertain at first, wary that you were just upset – emotional from the breakup. But as soon as your lips met, as cliché as it sounded, it was like sparks flew. A fire ignited within Javier, something he had never felt with anyone he had been with before. And he eagerly retuned the kiss, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you up, so you were straddling him. Unfortunately, it felt as soon as you had kissed him you were pulling away, panting slightly and eyes wide as you looked down at him.

“Woah,” you both said in unison.

You let out a huff of laughter and leaned your forehead against Javier’s taking in a deep breath, relishing in the feeling if his arms around you. Your breaths mingled together as you continued to sit together, minds racing, trying to understand what you were feeling. As contradictory as it sounded, the thought that keeps crossing your mind is that you and Javi were meant for each other.

In some weird twist of fate, by neither of you having a soulmate – maybe you were soulmates. You closed your eyes as tears of relief and happiness gathered in your eyes and you finally spoke up, “I never thought that I would-“ your voice catches in your throat and Javi pulls away from you slightly, a hand cupping your cheek gently, thumb brushing away a tray tear.

“I didn’t either,” he admits quietly, a small smile adorning his face, “and then there was you.”

You let out a quiet laugh and kiss him quickly before nuzzling your face into his neck, “and then there was you,” you repeat, a contented sigh escaping your lips as you and Javi stayed in each other’s arms.

////

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#Javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader #javier peña #pedro pascal #narcos x reader #narcos #steve murphy

[ghoulciifer]

hii! maybe can I request a scenario or hcs about bakugo having a female s/o but she has a twin brother? like they're literally the same (both physically and mentally) and when he goes to visit her maybe he has to deal with both crackheads?? sorry for my bad english I love your works♡♡♡

request: Bakugou with a female S/O who has an identical twin brother.

word count: 1k

tw: none

tags: fem!reader, reader has a twin

notes: hi anon!! thank you for your sweet words! this request was super cute and i had a good laugh writing this. bakugou’s a little ooc from how i normally write him but that’s bc i needed some soft katsu and i am not sorry. n e way, i hope you enjoy and thank you again for your submission ❥

Silence. That’s all that Katsuki Bakugou wished for. That’s all he wanted after coming home from a long, hard day’s work of heroism.

Of course, his girlfriend (you) and her twin brother wouldn’t let that happen so easily.

You and your twin were seated on opposite ends of the sofa within yours and Bakugou’s shared apartment, mouthing off to each other over a heated game of Mario Kart. Not the new version - no, the Nintendo 64 classic, something so nostalgic that kept the two of you busy all throughout your childhood. In fact it was the very same system, you had found it collecting dust in some box shoved away in a utility closet. (B/N) was, naturally, the first person you called.

You’d let Bakugou know beforehand that your other sibling was going to visit for a while, but that was at noon, and it’s now… what time was it? Bakugou shoves a hand in his pocket to retrieve his phone, tapping the screen to life to see those dreaded large white numbers display the hour: it was damn near midnight. He’d been sitting between these two idiots for almost 4 hours since he got home.

Needless to say, he was a bit annoyed.

“Y/N.” He grunted, still scowling to himself with his arms crossed and draped over his middle. You didn’t answer; you were busy kicking ass.

“That was for the shell earlier, dipshit!”

“Oh my gooood, you’re so annoying, Y/N, that was ONE TIME!” Your brother groaned, eyes threatening to roll into the back of his head had they not been glued to the screen, thumbs aggressively tapping the controller in his hand.

“One time my ass,” you huffed under your breath. He always somehow managed to throw you off at the beginning of the race, just like when you were kids. But thankfully you hadn’t forgotten your technique in catching up at the last second.

“Y/N…” Bakugou growls as his thumb and pointer come to pinch the bridge of his nose. His eyes close in an attempt to maintain whatever was left of his composure.

“Hold on, baby, this is our last game, okay?” You assure him without taking your eyes off the game. You don’t even wait to hear an answer before you're rising up off the couch slowly, as if getting closer to the screen will help you see that long stretch before the finish line better.

“Sorry, Bakubro, I promise to give Y/N back after she’s done kissing my a- YOU FUCKER!” Your twin is jolting to your side as you throw yet another shell at him in the game. He jabs his elbow into your ribs to try and throw you off, but he’s too late - you’re already crossing the finish line as the victory music blasts through the speakers.

“HAHA! I TOLD YO-“

“Y/N!” Bakugou finally snaps and one look at him tells you you’re in trouble. The vein in his forehead is practically popping, and his eyes burn with an irritated glow as he stands from his position on the couch. He’s pissed… your twin audibly gulps as you quickly exchange glances.

Your brows furrow upward and your shoulders slump from seeing your seething lover, your sweet victory leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. “Katsuki, baby, I-“ you start, going to reach out for him and dropping the controller at your side before you’re interrupted yet again.

“Hey, I’m sorry, we got a little too heated and it was my fault, you know how Y/N gets in a competition.” Your twin takes a step forward as he speaks, hand over his heart as he motions over to you. You smack his arm lightly over the comment but still manage to see the gentle tug at the corner of Bakugou’s lip. “Seriously, have you heard her? Such a potty mouth!”

“Oh like you’re any better!” You retort with a roll of your eyes. You were secretly appreciative, though, of your twin’s ability to defuse situations like this; of course always looking out for you. He knows how important Bakugou is to you, so, in turn... the angry blonde is important to him, too.

You push (B/N) out of the way so you can carefully approach your boyfriend, feeling the annoyance roll off of him in waves the closer you get. Your fingers rest on his shoulders before sliding down his biceps, to his elbows, then finally snaking their way into his palms to intertwine with his own digits.

“I’m sorry, baby. I promise we won’t stay up so late next time… we just got excited.” You try to soothe Bakugou in your sweetest voice, knowing it’s this tone that always manages to break through to him when he’s agitated.

Bakugou sighs before giving your hands a gentle squeeze; his eves travel between you and your twin (who is making a retching motion at the sight before him) before closing as he leans forward to kiss your forehead. He understood how close you were with (B/N), and though he couldn’t quite comprehend just why you both act the way you do, he was more than willing to accept it. Especially for you.

“Yea, yea… you two are some real crackheads when you’re together.” You can feel his lips twitch into a small smile against your forehead, and his words cause a giggle to erupt from your lips. You honestly couldn’t deny it - it was just your chaotic, sibling nature.

“Okay, okay, that’s a little harsh,” (B/N) feigns his offense with an expressive shake of his head and his finger pointing right at Bakugou, “You can’t compare me to that little gremlin!”

“Oh my God, just go home.”

#bakugou katsuki headcanons #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katuski x reader #bakugou fic #bnha #bnha fic #bnha drabble #bakugou drabble #bakugou imagine #hofortendoudrabbles

[himbowelsh]

Well now I need touch starved Liebgott something! I always imagined Webgott to work the other way around. Y'know Web being unused to hugs and Lieb having no sense of boundaries. But I'm really intrigued by a concept of switching it up.

hello i’m in tears bc this took so long to write, but...  enjoy an extremely touch-hangry boi.  be warned, for copious amounts of obscenely soft cuddling.

Long story short, it goes like this.

David’s just finished an article, two hours ahead of the frankly unreasonable deadline sent by his editor; he collapses on the couch, promptly kicks his sock-clad feet up on the coffee table, and slumps against Joe’s side.

Joe goes very still.

At first, David thinks it’s because of his feet. Joe can be weird about things like that; he values cleanliness, and “not acting like fuckin’ animals in the house, Jesus, Web”. All the things David was never allowed to do growing up in his family’s Manhattan penthouse  ---  like leave dishes out or discard his clothes in messy piles  ---  are exactly the sort of things that drive Joe insane. He kind of relishes doing them, just to see the twitch Joe gets by his eye, and for the way he grips his hips roughly when he growls at him to “quit leaving your shit everywhere”. David’s natural sloppiness leaves Joe needing an outlet for his frustration… and their shared bedroom is kept very clean. It works out great for both parties.

So, sure, it’s probably just the feet on the table… he thinks for a grand total of eight seconds, before looking up to catch Joe’s eye.

His boyfriend’s gaze has gone impossible soft. It takes David’s breath away, a little, because Joe isn’t like that as a rule. He’s sharp edges and broken glass, jagged teeth and bladed grins. He’s harsh as sandpaper and smooth as steel. He’s frustrating, and his gentle moments come and go like fickle summer storms.

To be fair, impromptu cuddling on the couch isn’t like them either… but David needs it tonight, and stepping outside the bounds of their normal relationship can’t be the worst crime in the world. He holds Joe’s gaze for a moment, questioning and careful… but, instead of pulling away, Joe just takes a moment before sighing. His arm wraps around David’s shoulders, pulling him close.

“Rough night, Web?” he asks, an undercurrent of implication in his voice. This ain’t like you. You alright?

“You have no idea.” David rests his stubbled cheek against Joe’s chest, sighing deeply as the tension slowly drains from his muscles. Joe is hesitant to react; his actions, even as he rubs up and down David’s shoulder, lack his usual fearlessness. Joe can grab his ass in the middle of a crowded bar, or ruffle his curls just to get on his nerves… but this casual intimacy is uncharted territory for him.

He needs a distraction from his own head. David’s got just the thing. “How would you,” he sighs, “like to hear about the plight of Heteractis anemone? Because I just wrote four thousand words on it.”

“Heter— huh.” Joe sighs into the crown of his head, ruffling his curls. “Pretty sure Guarnere caught that once.”

“Knowing him, he’s still got it,” David replies. When Joe laughs, it reverberates in his chest, a low rumble in David’s ear.

“Yeah, alright, Web. Tell me all ‘bout your anemoles.”

“Anemone.”

“Yeah, what’d I say?” Joe presses his grin into David’s hair. “Amenemes.”

“Anemo-- damn it,” he mutters, burying the words against his boyfriend’s chest. Joe laughs even harder… and, like it or not, the sound it a balm to David’s frayed nerves. Even better are the strong arms which wrap around him, fully encompassing his shoulders and pulling him against Joe’s body. It’s… more than he was anticipating, more than they probably need, but it feels nice, and he doesn’t want to pull away. David melts against him, curling his legs with Joe and letting himself drift off. Fingers card gently through his hair; his boyfriend’s warm breath caresses his temple… and being this close feels so good that he forgets to remember it isn’t ordinary at all.

If he looked up at that exact moment, he might have found Joe enjoying it even more than he was… but David, as usual, preferred to sail away.

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

That really should have been the end of it… but after their night of unexpected intimacy, it’s like a dam has broken.

Joe does it at unexpected moments. While David is flipping pancakes in the kitchen, he comes up behind him and wraps his arms around his waist, chin looping over his shoulder. They just sort of… stay there. David is so surprised that he ends up charring the pancake, which Joe eats anyways, because he’d inhale charcoal if he was hungry enough… but while his boyfriend is wolfing blackened pancake lumps down his throat, no explanation is offered. David doesn’t know how to ask.

He’s brushing his teeth; Joe comes up behind him and holds his hips, just staying there for a few minutes. He’s reading a book in bed; Joe lies down, curling into his side like an automatic reflex. They’re watching whatever B-rated action flick Joe just insisted on going to see at the Cineplex, and Joe holds his hand the entire time.

Calling it strange is an understatement. It’s fucking bizarre.

Which isn’t to say Joe’s been shy about physical contact before, because he hasn’t. He’s just always been measured with it. Joe doesn’t hold back from touching people, grasping their shoulders or clapping them on the back… but he never goes overboard with it. His touches don’t linger. He’s a handsy person by nature, but David never considered before that he weighs every touch before giving them out. 

If that’s the case, what’s changed? Why has he suddenly become so free — even apparently craving — touches he’s never asked for before?

David doesn’t know much about the scientific method, but any good journalist can test a hypothesis as well as a lab tech. Early one night, before either of them have gone to bed, he sits down next to Joe on the couch and sets the remote in his boyfriend’s lap.

“Anything but reality TV,” is all he says, and Joe smirks as he turns the station to some late night show.

He’s paying attention; David is not. Instead, his attention is fixed firmly on Joe, not even trying to hide it. The curve of his profile, the shadows along his neck and collar, the way he always lounges when he sits… like he’s trying to take up as much space as possible. Something about him seems inexplicably, undeniably lonely.

David leans over and wraps an arm around Joe’s shoulders. The reaction is expected; Joe goes tense, like he’s trying to figure out what the hell is going on. David counts back in his head:  ten… nine… eight… seven…

Before he gets to five, Joe’s relaxed into him. Easy as that — it’s like teaching a puppy to eat food, or a baby to cry. Joe and touch go together like authors and caffeine. Touching is easy for him, but being touched is the most natural thing in the world.

A flame kindles to life within David’s chest, and soon it’s warming him from the inside out. He can’t keep a fond smile from his lips. After a moment, his hand strays up to Joe’s hair, threading gently through the well-maintained strands. Joe’s always had a weakness for having his hair touched, and tonight is no exception. He makes a tiny, content noise and leans into David, the tension slowly draining from his body. It doesn’t take long before he’s leaning against him, head balanced against David’s chest. Arms still around him, David holds Joe tenderly, caressing his hair while occasionally pressing kisses to the crown of his head. Joe’s heartbeat is steady, his muscles lax. David charts the gentle rhythm of his breathing until he’s sure his boyfriend has dropped off to sleep.

When he looks down, a wave of tenderness washes over him. Joe Liebgott with every guard down is a thing to see. He so rarely looks peaceful. There’s something restless about Joe, a relentless hunger thrumming just beneath his skin, determined to break free. He’s always had an edge of urgency to him… but now, dozing against David’s chest, he looks without a care in the world.

He ought to be this way all the time. He deserves to be happy all the time. God help him, if David has any say in it, Joe will be.

“Is it my birthday or something?” Joe asks, when David, completely unprompted, begins massaging his shoulders. “Shit, don’t tell me I’m another year older and just forgot.”

“Not for another few months, old man,” David replies. On reflex, Joe tries to twist and grab him, but David’s massage doesn’t let up; after a minute, he relaxes into it, slumping further back against David’s chest.

“You been acting weird lately,” Joe declares — as though David needs to be good, and as though he wasn’t the one acting weird to begin with. “Everything fine at work? You didn’t… gamble away our savings to the mafia, or promise Sobel our firstborn kid or something? If you got news for me, Web, I can take it without a bonus massage.”

“Why do you think — wait, we’re going to have kids?”

“Head in the game, Web. What’s going on?”

At once, he’s glad Joe is facing the other way, because David’s not sure what he could say otherwise. He frowns at Joe’s back muscles, kneading into them with a bit more force than necessary. Sure, he’s been… more physically affectionate these days. Joe no longer has to seek it out, because he gives it willingly… and even if touch doesn’t come naturally to David, the obvious way Joe eats it up when his touches linger in public or they draw close to each other in private makes it all worthwhile. Joe seems happier nowadays, so clearly it’s working fine.

Why’s he getting interrogated now?

“Am I not allowed to touch you?” he asks. “Just because I want to touch?”

“You ain’t a touchy-feely person. Never have been.”

“People change.”

“Not you.” Joe’s observation is too neutral for David to justify flaring up at it. “Come on, Web. What’s going on?”

He’s silent for a long moment before summoning a reply. “I want you to be happy,” he declares, finishing off Joe’s back massage with a caress of his neck. “I want you… to feel loved.”

Joe is silent for a beat before turning his head to look back at him. “That’s all, huh?”

“Yeah,” David huffs. “That’s all.”

It’s hard to make out Joe’s expression when one half of his face is cast into shadow, but David spots the amusement in his eyes… and something else, too, something softer that he can’t put his finger on. It sparks a familiar warmth in his chest, and he smiles.

“Well, don’t stop on my account,” Joe sighs. There’s no warning before he’s leaning back against David’s chest, but David’s ready this time. He opens his arms, embracing him as they go. Slowly, Joe relaxes into the comfort of his touch, and the world feels a little warmer.

#webgott #david webster #joe liebgott #joseph liebgott #my writing #Anonymous

[wordsablaze]

7~ i’m awake but still sleeping

tell me your problems (i’ll chase them away) Internal scars can be difficult to deal with but Eskel vows to heal any that Jaskier is weighed down by if it’s the last thing he does…

A/N: it’s been a while bc i misplaced my motiviation (and forgot to crosspost) but heyyy...

@random-nerd-3 @betaray-jones @w-s-kibela @in-love-with-writing002 @screaming-flapjacks @blueboobutterfly @havenoffandoms @lasaga666

previous chapter

-

Jaskier almost falls asleep on the way back.

Eskel feels it several times, feels the way his breathing evens out for a moment or so before he softly nods himself awake again. He doesn’t know why Jaskier doesn’t want to fall asleep but he’s not about to interfere so the two of them stay practically silent as they return to town.

Once they reach the stables, Eskel clears his throat. “Jaskier?”

Unfortunately, Jaskier had apparently just started to doze off again and starts so badly he overbalances and topples off the horse, landing with a harsh thud.

“Oww,” he moans, snapping Eskel out of his guilt.

Within seconds, he swings himself off Scorpion and offers Jaskier a hand, which is actually rather unhelpful because Jaskier has his eyes closed. Shuffling back a little, he clears his throat again. “Are you planning on getting up any time soon?”

Jaskier laughs weakly as he looks up at Eskel. “Can’t I just stay here for today?”

Eskel frowns, glancing over him. “You’re going to freeze out here.”

“I wasn’t being serious, darling,” Jaskier giggles, pushing himself up into a sitting position and crossing his legs, “but it’s good to know you’re capable of taking me seriously.”

He’s not entirely sure what that’s meant to mean so Eskel just offers Jaskier a smile and holds his hand out again. “Come on, let’s go.”

This time, Jaskier takes it, wobbling himself upright and taking a second to regain his balance before letting go of Eskel’s hand as if it were burning him. But Eskel pointedly ignores the strange sadness that flickers through his heart at that thought because it’s illogical to assume Jaskier would want to hold his hand anyway.

“Aren’t you going to secure Scorpion?” Jaskier asks, raising an eyebrow.

Eskel chuckles. “You don’t need to tell me what my job is, bardling,” he says before doing exactly as Jaskier had prompted, deciding that he can come back for their bags once they’ve had lunch.

He guesses that Jaskier feels the same about prioritising food because he doesn’t say anything until they get to the inn, at which point he straightens up a little and smiles. “Could we request a bath, lovely?”

The woman in place of the innkeeper raises an eyebrow at them, probably because they’re still soaking, but nods. “I’ll get someone to bring one up. Don’t get my bed wet.”

Jaskier nods seriously. “Of course not, we would never even dream of it,” he promises, leaving both the woman and Eskel to wonder what sort of dream that would be.

Either way, Eskel follows Jaskier up, both of them all but stumbling into their room. Jaskier makes a beeline towards the bed before groaning and changing his mind to sliding down along one of the walls, settling on the floor with his legs outstretched.

Eskel frowns at him, yet again wondering if there’s an injury he should know about. “You okay, Jaskier?”

Jaskier looks up at him with a strange expression. “Aside from the almost drowning?”

Eskel snorts. “Aside from that.”

There’s a small pause before Jaskier nods. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just, uh, thinking of what rhymes with ‘drowning’, and actually I might use ‘frowning’ since you’ve been doing a lot of that,” he teases.

As if proving Jaskier’s point, Eskel frowns at his words.

Which Jaskier picks up on immediately, giggling softly. “See, there you go again. Keep at it and I might have to sing about the frowning witcher’s adventures. Just a warning, though, metaphors about facial expressions are pretty challenging to get right and you’d be subject to amateurs saying things like-”

“I really don’t want to know,” Eskel interrupts, dreading to think about it.

Jaskier winks mischievously before going quiet.

As he does, an awful, bitter scent of something dark and decaying fills the room. Alarmed, Eskel makes to ask Jaskier if he’s upset about anything, but said bard grins before he can, springing gracefully to his feet. “Here, let me help with your armour.”

Eskel steps back instinctively and Jaskier falters, his smile fading. “Or I could not help you with your armour, of course. That’s always an option and I will very easily take it, no harm done. I… uh, sorry. I’m going to go… check on the bath.”

“Wait-” Eskel starts, but the door is already closing behind Jaskier, the dark scent fading along with his presence. So he just sighs and, albeit reluctantly, gets himself out of his armour, placing it in one corner as he waits for Jaskier to return.

It’s strange, he thinks, how quickly he’s taken to finding empty silence unsettling. He’s never been fond of pointless noise but a distinct lack of Jaskier makes him question how much he actually likes the silence as an alternative.

And he’s not sure exactly how long he spends questioning that but eventually, Jaskier’s voice drifts into their rooms as he re-enters, followed by two women who place a steaming bath down on one side before leaving, exchanging the softest of whispers with Jaskier before they do.

Jaskier’s smile falters again as he sees the pile of armour but he brings it back before Eskel can ask anything, gesturing to the bath. “Well, go on, darling. The water won’t stay warm forever.”

“Don’t you want to go first?” Eskel asks quietly.

But Jaskier shakes his head. “No, no. I’d burn, and a burnt bard is no good at all. The water is perfect for you so you need to go first.”

“But-”

“And of course, I need to wash that lovely hair of yours!” Jaskier interrupts, then bites his lip. Eskel resists the urge to ask anything and waits until Jaskier exhales softly. “That is, uh, if you still want me to do so again?”

If only Eskel were a bard so he could explain how much he truly wants that. But he’s not so he just nods, and thankfully Jaskier gets the message anyway.

Somehow, Jaskier’s fingers moving through his hair feel even better than last time. It’s barely past midday but Eskel could fall asleep right in the bath, that’s how soothing it is to have Jaskier take care of his hair, take care of him.

“Eskel?” he hears Jaskier whisper, promptly realising that he had actually almost fallen asleep. Again .

Slightly mortified, he clears his throat and sits upright. “Thank you.”

Jaskier makes a face. “For what?”

“For uh, for letting me use the bath first.”

But Jaskier just squints at him as if he’s being stupid. “You’re the witcher. You killed the siren. Of course you get the bath first.”

Guilt-ridden realisation pools in Eskel’s stomach.

“Wait, what?” is all he manages, staring at Jaskier in disbelief because surely he can’t think he doesn’t deserve a bath just as much as Eskel when they’d played a relatively equal part in this particular contract, can he?

But they can’t have this conversation when he’s literally sat naked in a bath so he just shakes his head and stands up to get dressed, only realising his mistake when Jaskier all but squeaks and springs to his feet, his face flushing.

“I’m going to go… soap,” Jaskier blurts, disappearing before Eskel has finished cursing.

Once more, Eskel is left staring at a closing door. He sighs heavily and gets dressed, but that doesn’t help because then he starts wondering where Jaskier is going to get spare clothes from.

When he finds his thoughts drifting back to his newfound distaste for silence, he sighs and leaves their room, hoping that Jaskier won’t hold anything against him. When he doesn’t spot Jaskier either performing or at any of the tables, he walks over to the woman from earlier. “Have you seen m- the bard that was with me?”

The woman raises an eyebrow again, folding her arms. “And why should I tell you when it took you so long to try and find him?”

Eskel inwardly marvels at how Jaskier has managed to worm his way into this woman’s heart within approximately one conversation and sighs. “I didn’t know I was meant to, he said he was going to find soap.”

She snorts. “Well he didn’t do a very good job then.”

Eskel stiffens. “Is he okay?”

Glancing over him from head to toe, she gestures behind her. “We let him stay in the kitchens, it’s not as noisy and it didn’t seem like he’d make it back to a room on his own.”

Red flags could not be flying any faster in Eskel’s mind as he frowns, heading to the kitchens himself. Most people shuffle out of his way as he makes his way to the back wall, where Jaskier is slumped in the corner.

Cursing none too quietly, he kneels down beside him, gently pulling away the blanket someone has draped over him. “Jaskier? Jaskier, hey, open your eyes for me.”

Jaskier groans, half-heartedly pushing Eskel’s hands away. “Just give me two minutes, I’ll be fine.”

“You need to tell me if something’s wrong, do we need a healer?” Eskel asks, checking over Jaskier himself and frowning harder when he finds nothing obvious. What good can he possibly be to this bard if he can’t even keep him alive and well?

Jaskier blinks himself upright and shakes his head. “No, no, I’m fine. I’m just- I’m just tired.”

Eskel can literally feel his frown deepen; he can’t fathom why Jaskier would insist on washing his hair if he was truly this tired because really, it should have been the other way around.

Someone makes a strange noise of disbelief behind him, at which point he realises he’s said that out loud and instantly stiffens, almost regretting his life choices. Almost, because the sleepy smile he gets from Jaskier is most definitely worth a second round of being mortified.

“Need to find more oils if you want to wash my hair,” Jaskier whispers, yawning.

Eskel’s not entirely sure if his heart melts or skips a beat or does some unholy combination of the two but regardless, he forgets what the whole concept of replying is for an entire minute.

An entire minute within which Jaskier chuckles softly and lets his head fall forward to rest on Eskel’s shoulder. “I think it was the siren.”

Pretending that he’s not positively delighted to learn Jaskier is comfortable enough to lean on him again, Eskel focuses on the siren. “Did she do anything to you?”

“Tried to drown me?” Jaskier offers, and Eskel ever so slightly wants to throw himself off a cliff for asking such a stupid question.

“I’m sorry, that wasn’t a very good que- wait. She only tried . She couldn’t even get you to stay quiet,” Eskel says, mostly just reminding himself because he’s pretty sure that resisting a siren’s lure has to be incredibly taxing.

Jaskier lifts his head up with seemingly great difficulty. “I’m not very good at staying quiet. But it’d be bad for business, really, wouldn’t it? What use is a quiet bard? Well, what use is a bard to a witcher at all? But that's- I mean, never mind witchers, nobody wants to listen to a quiet bard when they’re drunk or, or… what’s the opposite of drunk?”

Eskel blinks.

It seems they have a lot to unpack from Jaskier’s exhausted rambling but there’s a time and a place and in the corner of a kitchen just after having killed a siren doesn’t tick either of those boxes. And besides, he’s far too busy wanting to deck Geralt to answer any of Jaskier’s questions.

“You need to rest,” Eskel settles for, pulling Jaskier upright with him and wrapping one of Jaskier’s arms around his shoulders so he can support some of his weight.

Jaskier hums. “I thought you were washing my hair.”

This time, Eskel glares at the few people who laugh, shaking his head when they step out of his way with guilty expressions. The woman in charge out front nods at the two of them, albeit not without noting the way Jaskier is so heavily leaning on him and raising an eyebrow for the third time.

“Thank you,” Eskel mutters, because it looks like she’s expecting him to say it.

She looks almost surprised but offers him a small smile. “Meals are free of charge if you need them before you leave.”

“Too kind,” Jaskier manages to mumble before Eskel can.

Getting up the stairs is unexpectedly easy because Jaskier seems to regain his energy for long enough to reach their room, where he hesitates. “Gonna get the bed wet. She said not to,” he whines.

Eskel sighs, unable to understand Jaskier’s priorities. “She won’t mind, you’re not really that wet anymore.”

And he’s not, even though his clothes are still an uncomfortable step ahead of damp. The blanket that’d been given to him seems to have absorbed most of the water because it looks as if he’d been caught in a light spell of rain rather than dropped into a lake.

“She won’t be mad?” Jaskier asks, leaning on his shoulder again, the lingering scent of decay weakening a little as his voice fills with hope.

Eskel shakes his head. “She won’t, I promise.”

“I just need a few minutes then,” Jaskier mumbles, all but collapsing into the mattress and proving that he definitely needs a lot more than that.

Eskel can’t imagine the sheer amount of willpower it would require to resist a siren’s words for so long and overcome them well enough to negotiate an escape. By all means, it shouldn’t even be possible, but Jaskier is unlike any bard he’s ever known.

“Take all the time you need,” Eskel replies, but then frowns. “Aren’t you going to change out of those clothes first?”

Jaskier makes a face that manages to convey how much he dislikes that idea even with his eyes closed.

Eskel finds himself chuckling at that, which seems to briefly snap Jaskier out of his exhaustion. He blinks up at Eskel and bites his lip before hesitantly clearing his throat. “Would you, uh… I mean, did you bring your bedroll this time?”

Was he meant to bring his bedroll this time?

Jaskier groans weakly at Eskel’s confusion. “What I mean, darling witcher, is to ask whether you’re- well, I’m still damp and I rather like to avoid being a nuisance because that’s a title reserved for the likes of Valdo and I-”

“Jaskier, I don’t care if you’re still damp, if that’s what you’re worrying about,” Eskel interrupts, but as softly as possible because he doesn’t want to feed the awful scent that’s still lingering around them.

Jaskier smiles softly. “So would you- I mean, do I get the privilege of your company once more?”

How he’s managing to articulate so well despite his eyes drooping, Eskel has no idea. But what he does know is that he’d be an utter fool to go and fetch his bedroll. So instead of replying, he simply lies beside Jaskier, hoping he hasn’t misread things in some way.

And he hasn’t, judging by the grateful look in Jaskier’s eyes.

“Thank you,” Jaskier murmurs, curling towards him, already drifting into sleep.

Eskel exhales softly as their arms brush but nods. “Truly a privilege on my part, bardling.”

He’s still unsure what to do about this darker, decay-scented aspect of Jaskier’s personality but that’ll have to be addressed another time because, even though he’s not too tired himself and he was rather hoping for a good lunch, it’d be a crime to leave the room when Jaskier so clearly needs the rest and wants him to stay.

After all, delayed meals and damp clothes are an easy price to pay for being able to take care of his favourite bard.

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i do apologise for the shady lore and ooc vibes but it's the best i can do for now :p hope everyone's had a good start to september xx

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