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seijorhi · 3 years

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Reminiscent

i’m (semi) back, y’all, and i come bearing a fic!! fhdjhfjdk it’s for oikawa i won’t apologise

Oikawa Tooru x female reader

TW non-con, drunk/drugged reader, forced infidelity, emotional manipulation, angst, past trauma, coercion, mild(ish?) smut, nsfw

“F-fuck, cutie! Just like – hah– just like that!”

You weren’t the clubbing type.

Not usually, at least – but exams were over and one of your friends was fresh off a bad breakup, one night letting loose wouldn’t hurt.

Walking is… difficult, your steps are sloppy – there’s an arm wrapped around your waist, your own slung over a stranger’s shoulders. Why are you outside? Where are your friends – they… they promised they wouldn’t leave you.

“She good, dude?”

A soft, pretty laugh rumbles at your side, “Yeah, she’s gonna be just fine.”

And you remember the bar, the overpriced cocktails and the saccharine sweetness of strawberry liquor on your tongue. The dizzying lights and the bass that thumped so loudly you felt it reverberate in your chest. You knew the rules; they’d been drilled into you since you were sixteen years old.

Stick together, don’t accept drinks from strangers, and watch the one in your hand like a hawk - it doesn’t leave your sight.

A tongue between the valley of your breasts, long fingers curling up inside of you.

“You like that, huh pretty girl? You gonna cum for me?”

They wouldn’t have just abandoned you, right? Maybe you told them to go. Maybe they thought you wanted it; to go home with the handsome stranger.

You never had the guts to ask them, never spoke about that night again. Not to anyone.

Pain. Something thrusting inside of you, splitting you open while he moans and pants atop you. It hurts so much and you want it to stop.

Please stop. Please. Please. Please.

You’re begging, at least you think you are, but the words come out jumbled and wrong, and he just laughs, hiking up your thigh so he can fuck you deeper.

Why won’t he stop?

When you wake up, bruised and sore and all alone in your bed, it feels like a bad dream. You know it’s not – not with cum still seeping from between your thighs, the scent of the stranger’s cologne clinging to your sheets.

And you scrub your skin raw in the shower, but it isn’t enough to rid you of his touch.

—

It’s nothing like what they show on tv.

There’s no sympathetic detective to pat you on your shoulder while you break down, swearing that they’ll find the man who did this and you’ll get your justice.

You don’t go to the cops because you’ll know what they’ll say. You were drunk, drugged, and even if you could remember what he looked like (his eyes were brown, you think, and there’s a flash of a smirk in your head but the moment you try to focus on it it slips away like smoke) any evidence of rape washed down the drain the moment you stepped into the steaming shower.

At least… that’s what you tell yourself. It’s easier than admitting you’re terrified of judgemental eyes.

Or worse; pitying ones.

So you pretend that nothing happened. You show up to your classes and throw yourself into studying, make the time to get coffee with your friends, you even pick up a part time job – it’s good to keep busy.

The nightmares are just that; nightmares.

And things are fine, until they’re not.

—

“Baby, you’re here!!”

There’s barely time to drop your bags before she’s pulling you into a warm hug. “Hi mom,” you reply, squeezing her back.

When she draws back to take you in, one hand cupping your cheek, she frowns, “You look tired sweetheart. Have you been sleeping enough?”

“Yeah, just tired from exams and stuff.”

She looks unconvinced, but mercifully doesn’t push the issue. Of course, you don’t tell her that you missed your last two exams because you’d walked past some guy wearing that same cologne and just choked – that instead of finishing off your semester strong, you’d spent the day alternating between throwing up and crying in bed.

She doesn’t need to know that, because of that, you’ll probably fail both classes and have to retake them again next semester on top of an already full course load. It’s fine; you’ll figure it out.

For now, you work on matching her enthusiasm at having you home, grabbing your bags to bring them inside and into your old room.

“Oh, wait–”

Abruptly, you pause, gazing in confusion from the doorway of your bedroom. There’s a duffle bag lying open and empty atop your bed, a tangled jump rope, some weights, an empty bottle, a sweat towel – even what looks like a spare workout tee scattered haphazardly across the sheets.

“… I didn’t take you for a gym junkie, mom.”

She stops behind you, sighing. “It’s not mine it’s– Tooru said he was going to tidy it up, sorry sweetheart.” She sweeps past you to start tidying it up, but not before you catch sight of her wide eyed, deer in headlights expression.

And you can’t help the lone eyebrow that rises, falling back against the doorframe, arms folding across your chest. “Tooru, huh?” you grin, “And who might Tooru be?”

The flustered, almost guilty look she sends you makes you want to laugh – this is easy, comfortable, this you can do – but you restrain yourself. Just. “Tooru is… he’s– well, he’s the man I’m… seeing.”

She admits it like she’s confessing to a crime, eyes all wide and nervous; anticipating your reaction. And you suppose it’s not unwarranted. As far as you’re aware, she’s been alone ever since the day your dad walked out on you both – raising you was always the priority, or maybe the excuse. But you’re not fourteen anymore, you don’t need another father figure or every spare bit of her time and attention, and she doesn’t need your approval for this.

So you smile at her, “Is he nice?”

She lights up, her features – almost a mirror image of your own – softening as she beams, “He’s amazing, honey. I honestly don’t know how this whole thing really happened, or why he’s even interested in someone like me but… I lucked out with him.”

And so it goes, you prying little bits of information about the mysterious Tooru as the afternoon passes.

She tells you that they met a few months back, at the bakery she likes in town – and how she kept running into him; at the grocery store, and then at the park, and then on her way back from yoga that one night.

She tells you that he’s a terrible flirt, all smooth and charming with warm, pretty brown eyes, but he’s a good man beneath it all and she’s never met anyone like him.

It strikes you, as you watch your mom animatedly talk about him, that you’ve never seen her look like this before.

Happy.

She can’t stop smiling, and when you look at her, really look, she’s almost a different person – younger somehow, a bit more care-free. It suits her, and you wonder with a slight pang in your heart how you never noticed how lonely she was before.

And she’s adamant that they’re taking things slowly, that he still has an apartment of his own in town – which to be honest, you really aren’t gonna judge her on either way – but it is kind of funny simply because whether your mom realises it or not, it’s clearly a lie.

The subtle reclaiming of your bedroom aside, there’s traces of Tooru scattered all around the house; the extra toothbrush and aftershave you’d spotted in the bathroom, the men’s shoes and the jacket by the door, red wine in the cupboard when your mom’s only ever indulged in white.

You haven’t been into her bedroom, but at this point you’d hazard a guess that there’s at least one drawer full of Tooru’s clothes, probably half her closet cleared out for him as well.

“He’s coming for dinner, but I just wanted today to be just us,” she says, reaching across the couch to squeeze your hand. And you’re grateful for it, because you’re happy for her – you are – but you’re not so sure how you would’ve handled meeting the stranger holding your mother’s heart first thing. At least, not after the last few days.

Not when you still feel all… brittle.

—

Tooru arrives a little after seven, and to say that he’s not entirely what you were expecting is kind of an understatement.

She’d gushed about how tall and handsome he is – though personally, you think pretty’s the more accurate word, what with his soft, delicate features, perfect cupid’s bow lips and all. What she’d neglected to tell you was that the man in question, stepping through the front door with a faint smile on his face, has to be at least ten years younger than her, mid-thirties at most.

Suddenly, your mom’s initial reluctance to bring him up starts to make sense.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” he murmurs, stopping by your mom to drop a fleeting kiss to her cheek before warm brown eyes turn to you.

Your heart stutters.

“Sweetheart,” your mom begins, slipping an arm around his waist and relaxing into his side, “this is Tooru– Oikawa,” she corrects herself.

He smiles at you, friendly and charming, “It’s great to finally meet you, your mom’s told me so much – all good things, of course!”

You force yourself to smile in return, “Yeah, you too.”

There’s nothing overtly wrong with Oikawa, age difference aside – your mom’s clearly head over heels in love with the guy and on a surface level he seems nice enough, but you find yourself glad for the fact that he doesn’t make a move to step closer, try to shake your hand or god forbid hug you or something like that.

He’s nothing but a gentleman as your mom steps back into the kitchen to finish off dinner, setting the table without being prompted, pouring a glass of wine for your mom and one for himself before he offers a glass to you.

“Oh, no I’m alright, thanks.”

You don’t drink so much anymore. He shrugs, like it’s no big deal but your mom pouts at you from the kitchen. “C’mon, sweetie. We’re celebrating tonight! One drink won’t hurt.”

“We’re celebrating?” you ask.

She throws you a wink, gaze softening as she turns to glance at Oikawa, already diligently pouring you a glass, “Of course we are. It’s not every day my girl comes home, and it’s nice having you both here with me.”

Oikawa’s fingers brush against yours for a fleeting second as he passes you the glass, and you have to fight to keep yourself from ripping your hand away. It’s nothing, you just– you’re not good with strangers touching you, and as nice as he is and as much as your mom might be infatuated with him, he is still a stranger.

“Absolutely,” he agrees, a playful twinkle in his eye as he clinks his wine glass against yours. “So you’re at uni, right? What are you studying?”

Uni’s the last thing you want to be thinking about right now, but whether or not Oikawa genuinely cares, he’s obviously trying to make an effort to get to know you. For your mother’s sake, grinning innocuously in the kitchen as she adds the last little touches to dinner, you suck it up, plaster a smile across your face and ignore the twinge of discomfort in your gut.

You can handle one night of small talk.

—

You wake the following morning to the sound of voices carrying down the hall.

Not your mother’s – both are too deep, and your mom left a few hours ago for work. Figuring that one of them at least is likely Oikawa, you pull on a thin, satin robe over your pajamas, tying the sash in a loose knot before you slip from the room.

Those suspicions are proven correct; you round the corner to find Oikawa sitting up at the kitchen counter, a warm cup of coffee in his hand. There’s another man, a touch shorter, but imposing with dark, spiky hair and olive green eyes standing on the other side, hands braced on the marble top, glaring at Oikawa.

They both look up at the sound of your hesitant approach, the stranger abruptly straightening up, while Oikawa merely grins.

“Ah, you’re up,” he observes cheerfully, taking a sip of his coffee.

Your eyes flicker between him and the stranger – clearly comfortable enough in your home and with Oikawa, despite the faint, lingering irritation still visible on his face – and as your cheeks warm, you find yourself wishing you’d put actual clothes on before coming out to investigate.

“I- I heard voices…” you trail off, awkwardly folding your arms over your chest. “Is mom–”

“At work,” he supplies. “Do you want some breakfast? Coffee, maybe?”

You risk another glance at the other man, watching you now with an unreadable expression, dark eyebrows furrowed. You swallow uncomfortably, shifting slightly as you shake your head. “No, I-I’m okay.”

And in an instant, a flash, something like recognition passes through those olive eyes.

Oikawa chuckles smoothly, finally tearing his eyes away from you to address his friend, “Iwa, stop being so rude. You’re scaring the poor thing.”

The stranger, Iwa, just scoffs. “You’re a real piece of shit, y’know?”

If he’s bothered by the scathing insult, Oikawa doesn’t show it, merely shrugging before turning his attention back to you with a smirk. “Ignore him, he’s just pissy this morning.”

You’d have to be a complete idiot not to sense the uncomfortable tension between the two of them – and now you. This is your home, but it feels like you’re intruding, like you’ve stumbled into a conversation you have no business hearing, but even if you wanted to leave your feet are rooted to the ground.

“Besides,” Oikawa continues, “he was just leaving anyway, weren’t you, Iwa?” It’s almost a purr, the way he speaks, but even the silken words can’t entirely mask the razor sharpness that lies beneath.

Goosebumps prickle along your arms.

Staring at you, Iwa opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but seemingly thinks better of it, snapping it shut with an audible click. He huffs, shaking his head. “Yeah, fine, whatever.”

He spares you another glance on his way out, standing frozen by the hall. For a split second he slows, his scowl softening just a fraction–

“Iwa.”

It sounds like a warning, but he only rolls his eyes and huffs again. You think he’s going to walk out without another word to either of you, but he pauses once more, lingering by the entryway.

“You look a lot like your mother, anyone ever tell you that?”

He’s out the door before you can even think to reply, letting it slam shut in his wake. And you flinch at the harsh sound, something uneasy settling into the pit of your stomach–

“Hey,” Oikawa’s there by your side, his fingers entwining with yours. You hadn’t even heard him move. “Come sit, don’t worry about Iwa. He’ll get over it.”

His voice is soothing, you don’t pay attention to the words themselves, the implications there. You forget for a moment that you’re still in your pj’s, that you really don’t know him that well either, and mindlessly follow when he leads you to the couch and sits you down, taking the seat next to you.

And while your head’s still spinning, an uncomfortable feeling gnawing in the pit of your gut, Oikawa seems entirely unbothered by the turn of events, sighing contentedly as he stretches his long legs out, one arm sliding along the back of the couch behind you.

“Do your… friends usually just drop by like that?”

You don’t know where the words come from, or why that’s the first question on your mind, but when you glance over at him, Oikawa’s just watching you, an odd little half smirk playing on his lips. “Sometimes.”

His answer does little to soothe your unease. It’s really not a big deal, you know it’s not. Officially or not, this is his home too – you’re the one out of place. And if he wants to have people over when your mom’s not around, that’s fine, he can do whatever the hell he wants, but…

You came home for peace. To hide away for a few days and pretend that everything’s just fine and you’re not one breakdown away from shattering entirely. You wanted your mom and the comfort of your old bedroom and safety and it’s fine – great, even – that she’s found somebody who makes her happy, but this– him and the weirdness with his friend and everything is just too much, and–

You don’t realise that your leg’s bouncing until Oikawa’s hand comes to rest on your bare thigh. It’s enough to make your stomach flip, an icy chill trickling down your spine as his thumb slowly strokes across the soft, plush skin. “Relax, cutie,” he coos, chuckling softly when you visibly flinch and squeeze your eyes shut.

“P-please don’t call me that,” you choke out, fighting against the wave of nausea rising up your throat. And it’s just like last time, his cologne, notes of vanilla and cedar and spice, swirling thick and heady around you. That phantom touch, the warmth of hands gripping too tight, unwanted kisses hot and eager against your skin.

“No?” he asks, cruel amusement dripping from his tone. “Why not? I think it suits you, cutie.”

You want him to stop, to push him away, slap him – do anything really, but you’re frozen in place, shaking as the memories you’ve fought so hard to shove down come bubbling back to the surface. You can’t think straight, not with his hand sliding between your thighs, the warmth of his body pressing too closely against yours.

“Iwa was right, you know,” Oikawa murmurs, smoldering brown eyes drinking you in as you childishly shake your head, willing him away. His other hand catches your cheek, drawing your face back to him as tears well in your eyes, stubbornly clinging to your lashes. “She does look so much like you, the same eyes even.”

He whispers it like a secret, nuzzling his nose against yours like a lover would as he sighs sweetly, “It’s the only reason I could stand it.”

And then he’s kissing you, the tenderness of his lips belied by iron fingers digging into your jaw when you whimper and try to wrench yourself free.

It’s not like the nightmares that startle you awake in the middle of the night, gasping for air; hazy, broken recollections that fade the moment you try to reach for them. No, every touch, every moment of his assault passes in stark clarity.

The feel of Oikawa’s mouth as it trails greedily down your neck, his hand sliding under the cotton of your sleep shorts, even his pleased little hum when he realises you’re not wearing panties. “Such a good girl for me. Fuck, I’ve missed this.”

This time there’s no drugs in your system keeping you pliant and helpless, but that doesn’t make a difference. Not when his words echo in your head, playing again and again until every awful, sickening piece falls into place.

Long, nimble fingers stroke at your folds, and you can’t help the shivery gasp that leaves you when the tip of his middle finger sweeps over your clit.

“Please– please don’t do this,” you sniffle.

Oikawa presses another fleeting kiss to your shoulder, “Shh, none of that. Let me help you, baby.”

“N-no, I don’t, I don’t– Stop!”

Knocking away the hands that try to push him back, he hooks his fingers over the hem of your shorts and slides them down your legs, your pitifully weak struggles only making things easier for him. It’s only when Oikawa reaches for his own zipper that panic truly strikes home.

You can’t just lie here and let this happen again. You won’t.

And like a switch flipped, you start to trash like a wild thing beneath him, the scream you’ve kept buried inside of you for months ripping itself free from your throat–

Only for the fingers that had been toying with your pussy to be shoved down your throat, cutting you off with a choked gurgle. As you gag, fruitlessly try to tug yourself free, Oikawa leans in nice and close – except this time there’s no gentleness to his expression, nothing but viciousness as he grins and bares his teeth.

“You wanna yell, pretty girl? Want the neighbours to come running, let them see me fuck you?” He grinds his hips against you, his breath shivery as he pants at the friction of his half hard cock against your side. Nausea twists at your gut, acrid and bitter – you want to be sick, to cry and beg with him to stop but with his fingers still stuffed in your mouth, his thumb digging into the soft underside of your jaw all you can manage is an unintelligible whine. He hums, kissing away the single hot tear that spills down your cheek, “You think if you cry loudly enough, mommy’ll come home and save you?”

And it’s like time stands still as he laughs, cruel eyes glinting when he presses down on your tongue, warm saliva pooling around his digits. “Such a little whore, trying to seduce her poor, innocent boyfriend the very moment her back’s turned. Tell me, cutie,” he coos, “who do you think she’d believe?”

Your breath hitches, another sob catching in your throat – even if you wanted to answer, you can’t and he knows it. “She’s in love with me, you know. It’s almost a little pathetic how easy it was to manipulate her into bed – so lonely… desperate for love, for somebody – anybody – to pay attention to her, take care of her,” he sneers, distaste curling at his lips. “Wouldn’t it just break her fragile little heart to know she’s fallen for the man who raped her baby girl?”

Another garbled cry slips past his fingers and you can only watch in frozen horror as his other hand drifts back to his zipper. “You want to protect her, don’t you?”

His grip relents just enough for you to jerk a shaky nod.

“Pretty girl, so good for me.” Another kiss pressed to your cheek as the quiet hiss of his zipper fills the air around you. “It’ll be our little secret, hmm? She doesn’t need to know just yet, let her be happy a little while longer…”

Sliding down his briefs just far enough for his cock to spring free, he strokes it for a moment with slow, leisurely movements, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he watches your eyes widen.

And when he pulls you forward, guides your mouth towards it, pre-cum beading at the tip, withdrawing his fingers so you can quickly gasp for air, you just… let him.

The fight’s gone, as quickly as it had come.

You let his fingers curl through your hair, use it as an anchor when your lips part to force his cock between them. And he moans, low and shivery as your tongue slides along the underside of his shaft and you try not to gag around the sudden intrusion.

You think that there’s no room left inside of you for shame, but as his other hand creeps back between your legs, teasing at your cunt, you burn with it, clinging to the pyre of your own humiliation and disgust.

And still, you kneel on the couch, letting him fuck your mouth, letting those long, pretty fingers curl up inside of you – moaning around his cock when they stroke that perfect little spot.

“I wanted to – shit – take this slow,” he tells you as his hips jerk upwards, shuddering in breathless delight when his cock hits the back of your throat and it convulses around him. “I wanted to make you want me.”

Wet, messy, gags sound with every unwitting thrust – you’ve no choice but to swallow him down, let him fuck your throat like you’re nothing more than a toy for his pleasure. There’s saliva coating your chin, dripping down the length of his dick, pooling around his balls. You can barely breathe, a task made even harder when Oikawa decides to add his thumb into the mix, teasing your clit while he fucks you apart on his fingers.

It feels so fucking good, and you’ve never hated yourself more.

Your throat burns, hot tears stinging in the corners of your eyes, and yet he’s intent on driving you to the brink of your sanity with every calculated flick of his wrist. Something tightens in your belly, a spring coiled too tight, ready to snap, and you can’t help it when your hips chase his fingers, the needy, shameful little whimpers that leave your lips (still wrapped around his thick, twitching cock) as you search for the pleasure to temper the discomfort.

“You don’t have a clue what you do to me, do you? I could barely sleep last night–”

You choke back a moan, your pussy clenching around his digits, sucking them deeper as white spots pepper your vision and you shudder out a moan.

“So pretty when you cum for me,” he pants, but you don’t care – can’t, not when you’re riding his fingers, tongue lolling out as he gives you a moment’s reprieve to bask in the rippling afterglow of your orgasm before everything comes crashing back down around you.

Oikawa lets you fall back against the cushions, breathless, trembling and dazed. You’re not stupid enough to believe that’s the end of it, not when his cock’s still hard, throbbing against his toned stomach when he gives it a slow, cursory pump.

“Lie back, cutie,” he whispers, keeping his eyes fixed on you as he pushes himself up off the couch to shed the rest of his clothes.

And as you shuffle obediently downwards, heart hammering in your chest, you find you can’t tear your eyes away from him either.

Tall and handsome, she’d said, but the words truly don’t do him justice. A body corded with lean, powerful muscle, golden, sun-kissed skin, a light smattering of dark hair trailing from his navel down past the well defined V of his hips…

“See something you like?” he teases, smirking when you squeak and childishly jerk your face away, cheeks burning. “It’s okay to look, you know. I don’t mind the attention.”

It feels too soft, too intimate for what this is.

This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. He’s not supposed to be attractive, or to make you enjoy your own assault, and you– you’re supposed to fight it, fight him instead of just lying there and taking it…

But when he climbs back onto the couch, easing your still trembling thighs apart to settle himself between them, his touch is nothing short of reverent, dark eyes wide and adoring as you squirm uneasily beneath him.

With one hand braced on the cushion beside you, his cock resting just above your aching sex, he leans forward, easing your top up past your tits. “Perfect,” he murmurs.

And it’s enough to make a fresh bout of humiliated tears spring to your eyes. Your hands curl into useless fists at your side as he settles back onto his knees and takes his cock in hand, hissing in pleasure when he glides the flushed, leaking head along your slick folds.

“Fuck, cutie. I don’t think I’m gonna last,” he laughs, biting down on his bottom lip as he watches hot, fat tears slip down your cheeks. With an agonisingly slow pace, Oikawa lines himself up with your cunt and presses in – even with how wet you are, one orgasm already wrung from you, the stretch burns and you can’t stop the choked gasp that leaves you.

His eyes flutter shut, head thrown back back as inch by inch his cock sinks into your pussy until finally he bottoms out with a satisfied groan. “Perfect for me, so fucking good,” he pants, and you barely have time to drag in a breath before his hips are drawing back, another desperate, strangled mewl escaping you.

Bruising fingers dig into your waist, Oikawa cursing as your plush little cunt flutters maddeningly around him– before he eagerly slams his cock forward, stuffing you full once more.

And as you sob and whimper between every wet, obscene squelch of his dick fucking into your soaked pussy, that all too familiar, shameful heat begins to pool in your core.

“Gonna cum for me again, cutie?”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere oikawa #yandere oikawa x reader #yandere oikawa tooru #yandere oikawa tooru x reader #tw: noncon #tw:dubcon #tw: drugged reader #tw: infidelity #angst #pain #manipulation #fun times ahead

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makeste · 3 years

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BnHA Chapter 313: Deku VS Lady Nagant

Previously on BnHA: Hawks’s super-hot badass murder senpai Lady Nagant showed up to fire a cupid’s arrow into my heart, and a bunch of literal bullets into my son. Deku was all “oh shit it’s Hawks’s super-hot badass murder senpai, what do I do, let me think back to Hawks’s advice for a sec.” Flashback!Hawks was all “anyway Deku so if my super-hot badass murder senpai ever shows up you’re basically screwed so you’d better abscond the fuck out of there.” Present!Deku was all “lol idek why I flashed back to that conversation since I’m just going to do the exact opposite of what Hawks said” and charged directly toward Nagant because WHY NOT. Overhaul was all “waah I need to get back to my boss who I put in a coma out of love” and Nagant was all “jesus christ why did I even bring you here” and had a flashback to AFO who was all “ILU NAGANT IMMA GIVE YOU AN EXTRA QUIRK SO PLEASE CAPTURE DEKU FOR ME PLEASE AND THANKS” and yeah. Shit is all over the place right now and I love it.

Today on BnHA: All Might gets attacked by a pair of discount assassins and is all “Call an ambulance! ...BUT NOT FOR ME” and it’s really badass but also I really wish he would stop tempting fate like this. Lady Nagant is all “[casually flies around town shooting shit]” and I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t read an entire chapter of just that. Deku is all, “[gets shot (≥_<)]” and releases a giant Smokescreen which prompts En to show up. En is all, “( •᷄⌓•᷅ ) (⌣̀ Δ⌣́) ( •̀_•́ )σ (¬､¬) (눈_눈)” which I consider to be a high point of both the chapter and of my life. The chapter ends with Deku using the Third’s quirk to launch a bunch of random objects at Nagant so that he can jump up and grab her arm all sneaky-like, and I’m sure this is going to prompt another week’s worth of discourse that I don’t care about at all, but fuck it, I’m having a good time.

OH WE’RE CUTTING BACK TO ALL MIGHT WELL THAT’S NICE I GUESS. CONGRATS ON NOT BEING DEAD

you named your car??

you named it Hercules??

I love you so much??

please marry me you giant fucking dork???

lmao speaking of huge fucking dorks

who the fuck are you clowns. la dee da we’re gonna murder All Might with our synchronized spear attack!! I mean... they’re clearly trying their best... maybe I should just be nice and politely hype them up like All Might is so clearly trying to do

like okay, but we all agree that this is actually the least intimidating attack any of us has ever seen, right?? these guys zipped up their hoodies all serious-like and are trying to attack All Might and Hercules with their Walmart tiki torches, but just, no?? right?? like the only way this could possibly be effective is if they were trying to kill All Might with secondhand embarrassment

“those are assassins” this is a VERY generous assessment, All Might

OH MY GOD THE TIKI TORCHES ACTUALLY KILLED THE FUCK OUT OF HERCULES

[slaps roof of car] this baby can fit so many weaponized festive backyard lighting solutions in it

and yet, even after watching this with my own two eyes, I still can’t take these dudes seriously. idek what it is. anyways r.i.p. Hercules, I loved you a lot but I guess you weren’t actually a very good armored car were you

omg they didn’t know it was All Might??

okay 1) for a moment there I was like “oh hey maybe they’re not so bad after all” but then a moment later it was like “ah nope, they are.” like, that was an interesting .06 second emotional journey there. anyways 2) All Might you have my permission to kick their asses for this disrespect, and 3) anyone else all of a sudden getting “wouldn’t this be an interesting time for Stain to suddenly show up” vibes?? no?? just me???

(ETA: hmm tbh I’ve still got those vibes and they haven’t gone away lol. Stain?? you out there buddy?? do you want to be cool for just once in your life. ball’s in your court pal.)

OH SNAP ALL MIGHT ARE YOU REALLY GONNA DO IT ARE YOU GONNA KICK THEIR ASSES

PROTECTIVE DAD MODE ACTIVATED?? BECAUSE YOU KNOW I’M HERE FOR THAT SHIT, SO YEAH, FEEL FREE

omg he’s shouting at them about how much Deku has suffered lmao and they’re just like falling over from being scolded

so they have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about though, right? “SIR THIS IS A WENDY’S” well whatever, you killed his pet car so he’s in a bad mood now

OH MY GOD

LIKE, JUST SO WE’RE ALL CLEAR, THESE FOUR PAGES SO FAR HAVE MADE ALMOST ZERO SENSE. LIKE MAYBE 2% SENSE TOPS. BUT ASK ME IF I CARE. GO AHEAD AND ASK. I SAID GO AHEAD, IT’S OKAY. ...NO I DON’T CARE AT ALL THANK YOU FOR ASKING

(ETA: also, the more I look at this panel, the more I’m just like, why the hell would you phrase it like that though, sob. way to doubly tempt fate?? are you trying to give Horikoshi a challenge??)

and now back to Deku who is randomly bouncing around the city and narrating it to himself just in case he was confused about why he was doing this

who are you talking to Deku. but thanks we appreciate it

man you gotta love that overconfidence. the smartest guy in the world warned you away from this lady, so SURE, LET’S RUN RIGHT UP TO HER. “I APPRECIATE YOUR INPUT, FLASHBACK!HAWKS, BUT I’LL TAKE IT FROM HERE” well okay then!!

I think it would be funny if RHA.com put little Buzzfeed-style polls in between the chapter pages so they could survey people at random intervals as they read their way through the chapter. like, you finish this page and then there’s a little poll there asking “do you think Deku’s plan of catching up to Lady Nagant and finding out where Shigaraki is will work?”, and you click “no” just like everyone else and then nod as the results show that 97% of your fellow readers also picked “no”, and you chuckle to yourself wondering how many of the 3% accidentally clicked on the wrong option by mistake, and then you keep on reading

ANYWAY, SO

HOW’S THAT PLAN WORKING OUT FOR YOU SO FAR DEKU. nice kick, though!!

omggggggg

ouch

update: Deku’s plan not really working out. sources tell me my boy has been fucking shot. this is an ongoing story and we will keep you posted with the latest developments as they come in

wait what

feel free to explain to the rest of us what all of this “UNLESS...” and “THAT POSSIBILITY...” shit means anytime, Deku

oh lol did he realize she could fly??

BREAKING NEWS UPDATE, CNN’s John King reports that Deku is still fucked. eyewitness reports now coming in that Nagant is doing no-look shots and basically not even giving a fuck. sources described her mannerisms and expression as “sexy, but in like an effortless sort of way.” we will continue to bring you the latest

so now there’s basically an entire page of Deku being all “ah fuck so she’s basically closing in and she could already hit me with impossible accuracy even from Far Away, so if that’s the case then her being Up Close is probably going to be even worse!” making good use of that Big Hero Brain there, Deku

so now what, you’re doing some kind of spiraling kick thing?? how is that going to help

oh lol he’s using Smokescreen to create some cover. aww, good for you Deku you named one of your Smokescreen attacks

OH NO LADY DON’T TELL ME AFO DIDN’T EVEN FILL YOU IN ON THE BASICS

seriously, AFO?? you basically told her what Deku’s exact strategy was going to be but then couldn’t be assed to drop that little, small, barely notable piece of knowledge that Deku is rocking multiple quirks?? is it supposed to be a secret or something?? you dropped the ball here man

damn this is getting intense now

(ETA: the way En is poking Deku’s head in that first panel is fucking sending me, I love this guy so much omg.)

well then what are you planning, Deku?? I’m actually really curious!! I am genuinely starting to be invested in this fight scene not only in the “wanting to see who wins and how that impacts the plot” sense, but also in the “wanting to see how it happens because the choreography and strategy is actually pretty cool” sense, which honestly hasn’t happened for quite a while now! this is fun

anyway so what’s up Deku, are you going to use another quirk?? I’ve been speculating that he hasn’t actually unlocked the last two yet (since Two and Three didn’t exactly seem convinced when we last saw them), but maybe I’m about to be proven wrong

(ETA: well he clearly has Three’s obviously, but Two’s is still MIA, and that’s the one I am of course the most curious about. that’s the one we’re all curious about, let’s be real.)

OH SNAP???

AHHHH I’M HYPED LOL. ANOTHER SHINY NEW QUIRK LOL SHOULD I PUT UP THE USUAL DISCOURSE DISCLAIMER

(ETA: so yeah, after thinking on it, I’m not gonna say “please no Deku discourse on my blog” this week, but I probably will ignore any discourse that does come my way though, just because I don’t have much interest in getting involved in what would probably be a pretty repetitive discussion. like, I can just sum up my opinions (which is what they are) here instead. in fact here they are lol:

1) I like the SIXQUIRKS and I like seeing Deku be a badass.

2) I also don’t think Deku is too OP. more like he’s exactly as OP as he needs to be at the moment, given that we’re approaching the end of the series. I expect the other kids will also be pretty damn OP when we see them fight again. we’re just at that point now where they’re all badasses (as well they should be; they’ve grown a lot and they deserve it). it’s just that Deku’s the one we’re getting to see right now.

3) of course I miss Kacchan and the others, but for me this vibes much closer to the MVA arc where even though I missed them, I was still having a blast (as opposed to the dark days of the Basement arc where I was pretty much losing it lol). like, even though Kacchan’s my favorite, I still love Deku a lot and this arc has been amazing for him getting to shine on his own (for like the first time, really).

4) y’all know I love the OFA plot and I’ve never been shy about that lol. I like all of the Vestiges a lot. Banjou and his over the top personality; En and his “guy you thought would be serious and :| all the time but is actually hyper-animated and ALL OVER THE PLACE” energy; Shiro who actually is a :| sort of guy lol; Three who I still expect will be fleshed out in a more detailed flashback at some point; and of course Two, who, well. you know what I think about him lol. Bakuverse is still on the table and I’m still hyped. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that we still have yet to see Two actually talk to Deku (as opposed to talking to the other Vestiges while Deku is distracted). did he lend him his power yet?? or is he still holding out?? either way it’s definitely going to be a Big Thing when it finally happens and I can’t wait to see it.

5) Lady Nagant is Everything and just because Deku grabbed her arm doesn’t mean the fight is over yet lol. Overhaul hasn’t come into play yet either. not to mention that even if the fight is over, the “where do we go from here” part still has me excited either way. her connection to Hawks and the HPSC is very intriguing and we’ve barely touched on that as of yet; she definitely has more of a role to play in this.

6) last but not least, I feel like every week the discussion is all about how much focus Deku’s getting, and how OP he is or isn’t, and OFA this and OFA that, but meanwhile I’m actually so invested in the character development here though?? the way Deku has distanced himself from everyone (except for the Vestiges, because of course they’re already dead so it’s not like they can die again lol)?? the way he’s pushing himself far too hard and we can see the shadows in and under his eyes, and the fact that he never smiles, and even All Might has remarked on how he isn’t taking care of himself at all?? the fact that he’s so single-mindedly obsessed with focused on stopping AFO?? the fact that he’s still the same sweet old Deku despite everything and was so kind to that fox lady with the umbrella, but there was also something so sad about that scene because it felt like a reminder of the type of hero that he wants to be, but that he’s not allowed to be right now?? because the stakes are too high and the world is falling apart?? and he feels like he’s the only one who can do something about it?? and that he has to be?? and that he is putting so much pressure on himself right now, and it’s absolutely too much pressure for any one person to bear, and I feel like no one is fucking talking about this lol goddammit.

anyway so yeah. I have feels about this, and every week that slow-burn angst is getting more and more intense behind the scenes, and I feel like it’s all going to hit a breaking point eventually. sooner rather than later. it really feels like a mirror of Katsuki’s post-Kamino arc. where all that angst was just churning below the surface for like twenty chapters and then it finally was like “okay it’s time” and it all came bursting out and we got the best five chapters of the fucking series (in my admittedly biased estimation lol).

basically, I know that most of fandom is billing this as either the “villain hunt” arc or the “solo Deku SIXQUIRKS fighting arc” or whatever. but for me, it’s always been and still is the Deku Angst arc lol. the cool fights are a sexy bonus (the worldbuilding less so because even though it’s interesting to see society at such a low point, it’s also very depressing and gets old pretty fast), but for me the thing that’s really keeping me engaged chapter after chapter is seeing Deku like we’ve never seen him before. seeing him all quiet and withdrawn and brooding and focused on AFO, AFO, AFO, and seeing that “he just doesn’t take himself into account” mentality taken to extremes. I am invested in that. I’m soaking up that angst each and every week, and I’m invested in seeing what comes of it. it’s a big picture thing. week to week this arc might just seem like a bunch of villain fight scenes, sure. but Deku’s emotional journey is the thread that’s going to carry this arc through from beginning to end, and for that I’m willing to be patient.

anyway that turned into a BIG OL’ RANT there but yeah! so those are my thoughts on the disk horse as it currently stands. and like I said, I’m open to discussion, but tbh I will probably just wind up repeating these same talking points endlessly so just a fair warning lol.)

anyway so Three says Deku has yet to use his quirk at ALL but now he’s trying to combine it with another quirk?? damn. also please check out En’s face here you guys

En launching a sneak attack up my favorite character list by the sheer power of his expressions alone. he really knows how to make the most of his screentime

OH DAMN DEKU

at this point the 3% from that hypothetical poll earlier are starting to feel prettttty damn smug, I’ll bet. well shit

what in the fuck

?? so like releasing his chi or whatnot?? isn’t that basically just like base OFA all over again?? also Deku did you seriously just apologize to Gran’s cape

update: Nagant has turned her eyeball into a gun

hm. hmmmmmmm. ...okay yep, still somehow sexy

anyway so she’s just floating up there building suspense, as one does. lord I sure hope she has good reflexes because something tells me she’s going to need them

OH SNAP HE THREW GRAN’S CAPE AS A DECOY WHAAAAT OKAY THAT’S SOME SMART SHIT DEKU

LOL SHE’S MAD NOW

JESUS CHRIST SHE JUST NEVER TAKES A GODDAMN BREAK FROM BEING AWESOME HUH

DEKU ARE YOU JUST THROWING EVERY DAMN THING IN YOUR INVENTORY

but without the cape and the hood how will you continue to look like an enigmatic badass. you really can’t. which means we might finally be moving on from the wandering nomad part of this arc, stay tuned

LOL YOU MANIAC

I hope he went full Kacchan with the dialogue there. his face sure looks like it lol. popped out of a building all mad fdskljlkj omg

well this was fun, shit. I still have basically no idea what Three’s quirk does though lol. like, can he use it to charge up objects with kinetic energy or something?? but then what was all of that talk about combining it with one of the other quirks?? or was that just because he was using Smokescreen at the same time??

(ETA: having seen and read an additional half-dozen explanations of Three’s quirk, I can say with confidence that I still have basically no idea what it is or does.)

anyway so!! Deku is a badasssssss but something tells me not to count Nagant out just yet even so. also I really enjoy seeing Deku flip out on people like he doesn’t have a fucking hole in his torso because it reminds me of A CERTAIN SOMEONE and I always love to see him channeling that feral energy; I feel like it’s been a while

anyways good luck to you both!! I truly wish that both of you could win. but if not, then maybe you can at least become friends instead. you have so much in common, you both can fly and have multiple quirks and you’re both badasses, and plus it would just be really funny to see the look on Hawks’s face lmao

#bnha 313 #midoriya izuku #lady nagant #bnha meta #deku meta #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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drabbles-mc · 3 years

Text

Soothing

Happy Lowman x F!Reader

Request from Anon: If I may request something with happy 😊 honestly wherever it takes you! I wouldn’t mind some angst as long as it’s a happy ending 🙏🏽🙏🏽 and if you can squeeze in #12 from the one liner list, I feel like it fits him. Thank you so much if you do!! Love your writings ♥️ (Prompt is from This Post btw)

Warnings: none! just Happy being a bit of a grump haha

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: My first Happy Lowman fic, my friends! Y’all been requesting some new people that I’ve never written for before and it’s been so fun, so thank you! Feedback is always appreciated, especially with characters that I’m not as used to writing. Hope you enjoy! xo

Mayans/SOA Taglist (Happy is technically Mayans and Sons so we’re just gonna run with it lol): @mayans-sauce @thesandbeneathmytoes @paintballkid711 @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @queenbeered @sillygoose6969 @sesamepancakes @yourwonkywriter @chibsytelford @gemini0410 @multiyfandomgirl40 @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @garbinge @themoonandthewicked @bucky-iss-bae @encounterthepast @everyhowlmarksthedead @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop @xladymacbethx @blessedboo @holl2712 @lakamaa12 @adela-topaz-caelon @i-just-read-stuff

You heard the door slam from the other side of the house. You let out a deep sigh as you glanced at your bedroom doorway from under your covers. As soon as he woke up this morning, you had the feeling that he was going to be in for a rough day. It wasn’t anything specific that he had said or done, but you could feel it in the way that he moved around the house as he got ready.

It had been radio silence from him all day. That in and of itself wasn’t particularly unusual. Happy had never been one to make small talk or drag out a conversation that wasn’t necessary. But the fact that he hadn’t reached out even to check and see if you needed him to grab anything on his way home was what really let you know that today hadn’t been a good one for him.

You set your laptop off to the side and slowly climbed out of bed. You hardly made it to the doorway before you came face to face with Happy, who had the same neutrally angry expression on his face that he always did. You reached out and ran your hands lightly up and down his arms, trying to gauge what he needed.

“Rough day?” you asked, despite knowing the answer.

“Yea,” his voice was gruff, his response short, but he wasn’t pulling away from your touch.

You let your hands drop so that they could entwine with his, “Why don’t you go shower off the day and I’ll take care of dinner,” you gave his hands a light squeeze, “Sound alright?”

He nodded but didn’t say anything else as he untangled his hands from yours. You stood to the side as he grabbed a towel and a fresh set of clothes to change into after his shower. Even in his moodiness, you couldn’t help but to love him.

As he walked by you he leaned down and pressed a quick, slightly rough kiss on the side of your head. He didn’t say anything, or look back at you as he walked out of the room. You had to shake your head and smile. Very rarely did he verbally say I love you but he always made sure that you knew.

You heard the shower start and made your way out to the kitchen to pull dinner together. He never said that you had to wait for him to get home, and on nights when he was going to be really late you wouldn’t. But you didn’t mind waiting an extra hour or two if it meant that the two of you got to eat together.

While you were serving everything onto your plate and Happy’s, you felt a pair of arms wrap tightly around your waist. You smiled, feeling the heat from his bare torso seep through the fabric of your shirt. He didn’t say anything as he watched you portion out the rest of dinner.

You turned in his arms so that you were facing him and rested your hands on his shoulders, “You wanna talk about it?”

“No,” he shook his head, eyes searching your face.

You smiled at him, “Wanna kiss about it?”

He cracked a small smile as he leaned in and kissed you on the lips. You slid your hands up so that they cupped either side of his face, and in response his hands squeezed tightly onto your hips.

You pulled away, tracing your thumb along his cheek, “C’mon, before the food gets cold.”

The two of you were sitting on opposite ends of your small couch as you ate. You’d thrown a random show on the television for background noise, but you knew that no matter what you put on Happy wasn’t going to be paying attention. You could see it in his eyes that he was miles away from your living room, still stuck wherever he had been earlier in the day.

When the two of you had finished dinner, he silently stood up and brought your dishes over to the sink. You turned to watch him, staring shamelessly at the ink that decorated his back and shoulders. He turned around and saw you watching him, tilting his head slightly to the side as if to ask if there was something that you wanted to say. You simply smiled and shook your head before turning around and bringing your attention back to the television. So much of your life with Happy was communicating silently. It was difficult at first, but the two of you had gotten pretty good at it as the days went by.

He sat down in the center of the couch, immediately pulling your legs so that they were draped over his lap. He drummed his fingers absentmindedly on your knees and shins and you fought the urge to smile at the slightly ticklish sensation. If he knew that it tickled you at all, you knew it would be weaponized against you at a later date.

“Hap?” you said after a few minutes of silence.

He looked over at you, his hands finally still, “Mm?”

You gestured for him to come closer to you, “Come lay with me.”

You saw the skepticism on his face but he did as you asked. Normally it was you curling up against him, not the other way around. He situated himself between your legs, head coming to rest on your chest. You let out a quiet hum of approval as you rested your hands on his back. You could tell that he didn’t want to admit that he was comfortable in his current position. After a few minutes, though, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled himself tighter to you.

While you were watching your show, you found yourself idly running your fingers along the top and back of his head. He let out what you could only describe as Happy’s version of a purr, and you had to bite back your laughter. It was the most comfortable and vulnerable that you’d ever seen him.

Suddenly, you felt his body tense against you. You stopped the movement of your hands and looked down at him, “You okay?”

“Are you…why are you petting me?” his tone was serious and it made the situation all the more hysterical to you.

You chuckled, lightly tapping your fingertips on the back of his head, “I’ve heard that it helps to soothe wild animals. Seems like it works.”

He let out one quiet chuckle but his face remained stoic. You could tell that he was trying to make it seem like he enjoyed it less than he really did.

“I can stop if you want?” you offered as you pulled your hands away from him.

“No,” he placed your hands back onto his head, “It’s nice.”

You chuckled and leaned down, kissing the edge of his forehead, “Love you, Hap.”

He settled back down against your chest, grunting in approval, “I know you do.”

#happy lowman #soa #sons of anarchy #mayans mc #happy lowman x reader #happy lowman x you #sons of anarchy imagine #mayans mc imagine #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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writing-in-april · 3 years

Text

Erotica Explained

Spencer Reid x Female Reader (Spencer’s POV)

Summary: Spencer discovers his girlfriend’s writing.

A/N: Hey Heyyy- this is my twenty-sixth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April! It’s based on this request- and I did end up using a small snippet from one of my other fics! Sorry this ones out late too lol had a very difficult day. Feel free to leave me an ask here (I promise I don’t bite) Thanks for reading and hope y’all enjoy!

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Sub!Spencer, Unprotected sex, A little bit of grinding, A little bit of overstimulation, Creampie

Main Masterlist Word Count:1.7k

I don’t use technology often, if I can help it I don’t use it at all. But, I had to use it right now, there was something I needed to look up on the computer. It wasn’t for a case or anything, I was just too curious and too impatient to wait to go to the library.

Because I don’t use technology often at all, I didn’t own a personal laptop. The only one I regularly used was the one I was given at work, and that was done begrudgingly. Though I couldn’t use that one right now as I was at my apartment I shared with my girlfriend. My girlfriend however, happened to have a laptop that she wouldn’t mind me using.

When I opened up her laptop, it was already unlocked with a tab already opened. My eyes unintentionally quickly glazed over the page, my eyes widening as I flitted across the page. It was some sort of story, one that contained things that made me blush. At the end of what was visible without scrolling down it read,

His fingers twitched at his side when you blew cool air onto his length, you sneered again, “If you touch me I’ll stop.”

My own trousers started to grow a little tight after reading that, then confusion made its way into my face, wondering what in the world I was reading. I clicked around, not really knowing what I was doing and I fell into a wormhole of reading. It wasn’t until I glanced up to see who owned the documents it all clicked together. They were my girlfriend’s stories.

They were her stories about a slew of characters that already existed in other media, the first one I had read even happened to be about a Star Wars character- Poe to be specific. Once it all clicked together I slammed the computer shut, feeling like I had invaded her privacy. Then I swiftly got into a cold shower, ready to freeze my arousal and wash off my shame.

—-

My foot was tapping even crazier than normal as I sat next to my girlfriend. We had decided on a night in, choosing to order take out and watch a few movies on a rare night off for me. It was her turn to choose, and unsurprisingly she chose Star Wars.

“What’s wrong?” She asked me when I started to basically vibrate when Poe came onto the screen. I couldn’t keep it in any longer, the guilt was eating me alive sitting here while I watched a constant reminder of what I read.

“I’m sorry-“ She was about to open her mouth to probably ask me why I was apologizing, but I steamrolled over it by ranting, “I looked at your writing- the erotica you write. I- I think it’s about already existing characters? Which I hadn’t heard about before-“

She finally did get a chance to cut me off by calling out my name, getting me to stop my nervous rant, “Are you mad- that I umm am writing about someone who’s not you?”

“No! It’s natural to be attracted to different people even while you’re with someone…” I was already falling down into another rant, this time however I caught myself and found the point I had been looking for, “I actually think it’s kind of hot.”

“Oh yeah?” Her eyebrows had shot up almost high enough that they were up into her hairline. I flushed a little at that, feeling vulnerable under her gaze even though I knew she always kept me safe.

“I- um actually was wondering if you could do to me-“ The words died on my tongue when my eyes met hers again, and just by her eyes I could see that she knew what I wanted. She just wanted me to say it out loud.

“What do you want me to do to you?”

“Wh-hat I read- can you umm-?”

She didn’t let me stumble any longer, cutting off my stuttering, “You want me to do the things you read about to you?”

I nodded vigorously, but that wasn’t enough for her. She leaned forward, grabbing my cheeks between two of her fingers, then prompting me, “Use your words.”

I whimpered at that, remembering seeing it in one of her writings. I learned from the character, who had mouthed off in the fanfic, instead breathily answering, “Yes, I want you to use me like you wrote.”

Soon enough my clothes had been taken off by me as I had to follow her command to ‘strip’. She did so as well, then straddling me, starting immediately to grind on my cock. I moved my hands to her hips to try to get her to do something more, but they were quickly pushed off. She then pinned them above my head, leaning forward to whisper into my lips, “No you don’t get to touch unless I tell you too.”

“Yes, Miss!” I gasped out instantly, wanting to be perfect for her.

“Mmmm good boy.”

That made me keen even more, loving the praise she gave me a dash of, I craved her showering it onto me. She kept her course of action, grinding onto my cock until her own arousal completely soaked it. All it would take was for the head of my cock to notch at my entrance, she was so wet I could slip in easily. But, all I could do was wait until she let me have her. I’m sure if I begged she’d only smirk at me, so I kept my mouth shut and took what I was given.

She finally sunk down onto my cock, though it was excruciatingly slow. I tried to fight my instincts, keeping my hips flush with the couch so I wouldn’t get scolded for moving without permission.

When the backs of her thighs finally hit the tips of mine, I groaned unintentionally. She seemed to love it, starting to buck her hips enthusiastically at my response. My hands balled up into fists, knuckles turning white from how hard I was gripping them. It was taking so much to not cum already, her hands pinning me and how beautiful she looked above me making it overwhelming.

“Awww are you already so close? You love getting used like this don’t you?” She goaded once she realized how much I was fighting my release with my squinted eyes.

It took me a minute to find the words, as all my mind could focus on at the moment was how she felt around me. My IQ was completely slashed to 60, but I did eventually get out, “Yes miss”

She sped up her pace at my words, alternating from grinding down into me hard and bouncing vigorously on top of me. When she lent forward to give me a bruising kiss, she swallowed all the noises I was making, until she dipped her head down to mark up my collarbone. It was all too much; I didn’t know how much longer I could hold on.

“You’re such a good boy for me Spencer.” She gasped above me, writhing on my cock while she continued to bounce. It was getting so hard to bear, especially with more praise, but I wanted to wait until she came. She looked like a goddess, especially just as she was about to cum, which she soon signaled by saying, “Oh god baby, you’re gonna make me cum!”

All I could do was watch as she removed one hand from where they were wrapped around my own to rub circles into her clit. She tipped her head back, mouth dropped open in a moan, and thighs shaking as her orgasm washed over her. She shook above me for a minute, hips stuttering as she tried to continue the pace she built while her orgasm was ripping through her. Once she had come down from her release she then focused on mine, building the pace back up to be even faster than her original one.

“Go ahead and cum baby boy.” With one more swivel of her hips, I fell off the edge at her command, filling her all the way up with my release. She held my hands up above my head still and still moved her hips while I rode out my high. When she stopped her movements once I whimpered loudly out of overstimulation, she finally let go of my hands.

I let myself relax as she slumped over onto me, resting her head onto my still somewhat heaving chest. With my hands once again free I wrapped my arms around her middle, entrapping her this time.

Looking up I then noticed the movie was still going, completely unobstructed by our actions. It was towards the end of the movie already, telling me how long we had been going at it. Though I didn’t care that I missed it, I got to act out a partial storyline from it, even if it was a made up one. The movie could only hold my attention for so long, there was someone far more interesting with me.

“So are you gonna write some with me?” She giggled out while tracing her fingers up and down my chest, lingering over my sternum. Her proposition was an intriguing one for sure, especially now that she explained some of it to me. Though, I think my writing style is more suited for more of an academic setting.

I snorted a little, giggling a little myself, then brushing my hair out of my eyes so I could see them more clearly. When I tipped her chin up with my fingers and their eyes met mine, they were full of mischief. She was definitely trying to get me riled up again, but I had a quip back of my own, “I don’t think I’d be good at it- but maybe you’ll let me read from now on? I wouldn’t mind editing some as well, it sounds fun.”

Ask Me Anything

——

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Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat

Sub Spencer: @thatsonezesty13 @pastathighs @virtualpeanutartisanjudge @calm-and-doctor @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler smut #mgg #mgg x reader #30 fics in 30 days

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maybanksbitch · 4 years

Text

The Bathroom || JJ Maybank

* this is not my gif; all credit goes to the owner.

pairing: jj x reader

prompt: jj follows you to the bathroom after seeing some random try and pick you up. he reminds you who you belong to.

requested: no

warnings: jealousy, absolutely filthy smut, choking, spanking, hair pulling, biting, daddy kink, unprotected sex (10/10 wouldn’t recommend; wrap it before you tap it).

a/n: i’m not kidding y’all, this is FILTHY and very graphic. i’m warning you. it’s also pretty long, sorry.

You let out a hum and raised your eyebrows in mock amusement at something the boy in front of you said. You weren’t really paying attention to what he was saying. You were just entertaining him for the moment.

“So, uh, what do you say we- we uh, get out of here?” the guy, Jason, maybe, tried to ask confidently. He was failing miserably, deep down knowing you were uninterested.

You let out a small laugh as you stood up and patted him on the shoulder. At least he tried. “Sorry buddy, better luck with the next one,” you smiled before turning and walking away in search of the bathroom. You just wanted to clear your head for a minute and escape the rooms packed with Kooks.

There was a line outside the one downstairs so you quickly climbed the winding staircase to use Sarah’s. This was her party after all, and she made you and your friends come. You knew she wouldn’t mind you using her bathroom, anyone else would be a different story.

You didn’t hear the footsteps that followed you up the stairs or down the hallway. As you opened the door and flipped on the light, a body pushed you into the room and then slammed you against the closed door. You nearly punched them straight in the face until you recognized the grey cut off tank and the shark tooth necklace hanging around the person’s neck.

“God JJ, you scared me,” you breathed and leaned your head back against the door to look up at him.

Blonde curls hung around his face as his hands kept you pinned to the door. His usually bright blue eyes were now a darker shade. His jaw was clenched, making his cheekbones jut out the slightest bit.

“Did you think that was cute?” JJ’s voice was deep and taunting, causing a chill to run up your spine.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about..”

Your breath hitched when you felt the cold rings on his fingers against your throat. His fingertips squeezed just slightly, causing heat to flood throughout your body. “Was it fun flirting with that guy, knowing I was right across the room? Did you think that was cute?” he repeated the same question as before, voice coming out almost growl like.

His fingers squeezed a bit harder, demanding an answer but also just trying to rile you up. JJ knew all your kinks. He knew how to turn you on in all of the best ways.

“No,” you whimpered, squirming under his grip against the door.

JJ brought his other hand up quickly, fingers tangling in the hair on the back of your head. He pulled, forcing your head back and exposing more of your skin to him. It didn’t hurt. Quite the opposite, actually. Everything he was doing went straight to your most intimate spot.

“No what?”

“No sir,” you whispered, lips trembling as they parted and you sucked in a breath.

“That’s my good girl,” JJ muttered with a smirk, hand leaving your hair and your neck to grab your hips instead.

You slid your hands under the front of his shirt, fingertips tracing the defined muscles of abs. His lips came down against yours hard and hungry. His teeth dragged against your bottom lip as he tugged on it. When your lips parted in a gasp, he wasted no time, slipping his tongue into your mouth to taste you.

He got a hint of strawberry, from the punch you’d been drinking. He tasted of beer and weed with a hint of mint, something you were so used to but couldn’t get enough of. It was like you were drunk just from kissing each other. You’d both never felt anything like it before.

Your hands left the soft skin of JJ’s chest, sliding up his muscular biceps and into his blonde hair. Your nails brushed his scalp as you tugged on the strands, pulling a strangled moan from the tall male’s throat.

You were spun around quickly, in a daze you caught a glimpse JJ’s crazed eyes in the mirror. You looked at yourself instead. Your hair was disheveled, pupils blown, lips puffy and brighter from the kissing. JJ smirked in the reflection and brushed your hair to the opposite side, fingers trailing from your jaw down to your collar bone. You could see that your nipples had hardened and were peaking through the bikini and crop top you were wearing.

“Look at you, all worked up,” JJ whispered in your ear, wet lips dragging down the side of your neck. He sucked at a spot where your neck met your shoulder and bit down somewhat harshly. After a moment he pulled back and admired the red mark he’d left that would be purple tomorrow.

You felt his large hand in between your shoulder blades and you were pushed forward, bending over the counter. JJ pressed his hips against your ass and you could feel his erection, hard and prodding between your cheeks.

“You want it don’t you? Want me to fuck you over this counter, right here just like this?” he slid his hand down your spine and landed a loud slap to your exposed ass where your shorts had ridden up.

A whimper left your lips as you pressed back against the blonde, grinding your backside against his bulge. “Yes, daddy. Please fuck me. I need your cock,” you whined, looking over your shoulder. JJ’s eyes locked on yours and he lost all control.

Your shorts were ripped off without warning, bikini bottoms following quickly after. You kicked you bottoms off the best you from your compromised position and shivered as the chilly bathroom air met your wet core. JJ kicked your legs apart and you watched in the mirror as his hand disappeared behind you.

You gasped as you felt his calloused pointer finger and middle finger slide through your folds, teasing your clit with soft and slow circles. His mouth fell open a bit when he felt how wet you were. He slipped both fingers into your entrance with little to no resistance.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, baby,” JJ said huskily, pulling his fingers out and wrapping his arm around your front. He met your eyes in the mirror and held his fingers right in front of your face. His pupils were blown so wide you almost couldn’t see any of his crystal blue irises.

“Suck,” he commanded, dimples becoming prominent as he smirked when your mouth dropped open.

You took JJ’s fingers into your mouth, his eyes glued on your lips the whole time. You put on a show for him as your tongue swirled around the digits and you let him push them down your throat to the last knuckle.

You don’t know when he got his pants undone or how with one hand for that matter. You moaned loudly around JJ’s fingers, nearly bitting down, when you felt the head of his length slip into you, the rest of it entering swiftly after. The blonde’s jaw dropped, face scrunching in pleasure when he was fully sheathed inside of you.

“Ah, shit,” JJ hissed, ripping his fingers from you’re your mouth and gripping onto your hips. “You’re always so fucking tight.”

His rhythm was slow as he started fucking you, pulling back slowly until just the head of his cock was missing and equally slowly pressing back in. For a minute, JJ watched himself thrust into you. The way your juices glistened on his shaft made his mouth water.

He looked back up to see you watching him in the mirror, lip tight between your teeth. He sent you a quick wink and slammed into you forcefully. It was like the moan you let out was forced out by his dick. His pace turned borderline brutal at that point. You didn’t know someone’s hips could move that fast. The vulgar sound of skin slapping on skin filled the bathroom, as well as your loud moans. JJ let out a few grunts but tried to remain quiet, just wanting to hear you.

Your head fell forward at some point. The cold porcelain felt good against your hot skin, sweat already collecting at the hairline on your forehead. You knew the feeling all too well, the feeling of JJ wrapping your hair around his fist in a make-shift ponytail. All he had to do was pull his wrist back the slightest bit to lift your head.

“Head up. I wanna see you. I wanna see how good I make you feel,” JJ’s voice was stern but tense. No matter how many times you had sex, it was just as good as the last, if not better. He felt like a virgin again, trying not to cum from the slightest touch.

You felt out of control of your own body. You couldn’t stop the noises leaving you. You couldn’t close your mouth or cease the shaking of your thighs. You couldn’t help it when your hands reached back and held desperately to the blonde’s forearms, like it would ground you to the world in some way.

A shout left your lips as JJ’s cock brushed your g-spot. Your nails dug into his skin as he continued his assault against it. If anyone was outside of that bathroom door, they would likely think there was a porno being shot inside.

“Yes, fuck, JJ- Right there,” you gasped out.

JJ’s hips stilled, pelvis pressing into your ass. You knew your hips would be bruised from the edge of the counter. He let out a growl and pulled you up by your hair, your head and back arching almost unnaturally. His chest was now pressed against your shoulder blades, mouth right next to your ear.

“What’s my name?” he growled in your ear, holding your gaze in the reflection.

“Daddy. Daddy, I’m sorry. Please, I wanna cum. Make me cum, daddy, please,” you begged the boy behind you.

JJ kept you in that position as he started pounding into you once again. Hearing those words leave your lips almost made him cum right then and there. He was pressing into your g-spot with every thrust. He pulled on your hair with each movement he made. You didn’t know how much longer you could hold on.

“Gonna cum on daddy’s cock, babygirl? Hm? Who’s pussy is this? Who’s the only one who can fuck you this good?” JJ’s voice was low in your ear, a groan slipping out here and there. His hand slipped down your stomach, the other still holding tightly to your hair. His fingers slowly circled your clit. It was so light your knees nearly gave out, a very different contrast to the animalistic thrusting of his hips.

“Yours! It’s all yours. N-No one can fuck me like you. Please!” you practically sobbed, overcome with pleasure as you tried not to cum before allowed. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you pleaded through the mirror for JJ to let you have your release.

“Go ahead baby,” JJ muttered before his mouth latched onto your neck.

His fingers made quick work against your clit now, a wet noise coming from down below. Your hands flew up to his hair and his neck, wherever you could reach. You gripped onto whatever you could as your mouth opened in a silent scream.

Your orgasm hit you so hard your vision went white, eyes squeezing shut. A loud, broken moan left your lips, tearing up your throat. Your legs shook so violently you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, you were relying on him to do that for you.

Your pussy gripped JJ like a vice as you came. You became so tight around him he almost thought he might not be able to pull out. He stuttered out a few more thrusts before muttering, “Fuck, m’gonna cum.”

He forced you to your knees with little effort. Your legs were jelly at that point anyway. He held you by the hair as his hand gripped his cock and stroked fast. You obediently opened your mouth, tongue out and all as you waited.

“Oh-Oh shit- Fuck,” JJ gasped when your eyes opened, wide, wet and innocent, staring up at him.

The groan he let out could probably be heard over the music downstairs as he let go. JJ’s cum shot out so hard he missed your mouth at first, the thick white substance ending up on your forehead and down your cheek, thankfully not in your eye.

You waited until he milked himself dry, licking up the little drop at the end of his tip before swallowing what made it in your mouth.

JJ fell back against the wall, head back and eyes shut as he tried to catch his breath. You grabbed a washcloth from under the sink and cleaned your face off the best you could without looking. You didn’t trust yourself to try and stand yet.

“Holy. Fucking. Shit,” JJ breathed out through pants, finally opening his eyes to look down at you then his thighs. He grinned slightly as he noticed his leg hair was stuck to the skin of his thighs. “Didn’t know you were a squirter.”

A blush spread across your cheeks and down your neck, hands covering your face. You weren’t embarrassed, just equally surprised. When you finally felt the heat subside, you looked up at the blonde and smiled lazily.

“I think that was the best sex we’ve ever had.”

“Think?! Oh, I know that wa-” JJ went silent when there was a knock at the door.

“Shit,” you whispered and rushed to your feet.

You hurried to put back on your bikini bottoms and shorts, ignoring the numbness in your legs. JJ pulled up his underwear and secured his pants in record time. He fixed your top for you as you buttoned your shorts and cleared your throat.

When you finally opened the door a smidge, you smiled sweetly at Sarah who was on the other side. She furrowed her brow as she noticed your messy hair, until she saw JJ in the mirror.

“Oh, God.. You didn’t,” was all she said. She slapped a hand over her eyes when you opened the door wider and she saw that both of you were covered in sweat. The bathroom absolutely reaked of sex. “In my bathroom?!”

“It was his idea!” you quickly put all blame on the blonde behind you.

JJ put his hand over his chest in mock offense but quickly dropped it. He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and hooked his chin over your shoulder.

“Sorry, Sarah,” he mumbled and pouted playfully at your friend.

Sarah scoffed but laughed slightly anyway, turning around and walking back towards the stairs. “You are both totally bleaching that whole bathroom tomorrow!” she called to you, only half joking.

JJ pressed a sweet kiss to your cheek and hummed softly in thought. He then nuzzled his nose against the spot and whispered, “Totally worth it.”

masterlist

#outer banks #obx netflix #outer banks netflix #jj maybank #outer banks imagine #jj x reader #jj imagine #obx jj #jj maybank imagine #jj fanfiction #jj fluff #jj maybank fluff #jj angst #jj maybank angst #jj maybank x reader #obx imagine #jj smut #jj maybank smut

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slashingdisneypasta · 2 years

Text

Harper Alexander x Fem!Reader || Oneshot, [Part 3]

Title: The Fake Love Of My Life [PART 3]

Notes:

The next part will be the finale! I am also planning an epilogue, though, with the wedding night. Loving smut, ya know? So it wont be the total end- just the crown.

Plot: You sign yourself up to help organise the town’s annual firelight festival, and Harper seems to be dedicated to helping you. And, generally, just being around- you.

Warnings: Mention of Jezebell and that whole mess, swearing, heavy make out.

“So we’ll need a few helpers to get this thing on its legs- any volunteers?” I look up from my book, tucking some hair behind my ear as I take a poll of the folks in the hall raising their arms, seeing nobody respond to the Mayor’s call to duty. He looks, too, before giving a great sigh. “No worker bees? Come on- I will personally keep y’all in pastries while it’s gettin’ done.”

Pastries? My attention is truly peaked, then; Slamming my book shut in my lap and straightening my back. Harper, who’s sitting beside me looking bored out of his mind with his arms crossed and his body slightly slumped in his folding chair, catches the tiny change in my body language and rolls his eyes. Like, of course.

I flash him a look that clearly reads be quiet, before pointedly raising my hand. Shut up Harper.

I hear him scoff.

“Ah! Y/N!- Thank you! Gettin’ the ball rolling. So there, that’s one- but I don’t think this festival can get done by just one person, now. Anyone else feelin’ any community spirit? This is a wonderful tradition, and I’m sure you’d all be disappointed if it flopped… Come on now, people. Danishes, donuts, teacakes- Thomas, I know you have a soft spot for croissants, don’t you avoid eye contact with me-… “

As Buckman continues to try and enthuse an unresponsive town hall worth of people - unresponsive because this meeting has been going on for three hours, and not necessarily because everyone is acutely against lending a helping hand, -, Harper turns in his seat and sets me with one of his raised eyebrow, set jaw, curious, you aren’t serious? kind of looks. “… You’re gonna help put together the firelight festival?” He asks, rather sarcastically, in a quiet voice. I nod.

“I am.”

“Uhuh… “At that, I turn properly around to face him, and raise both my brows.

“What?” Why does he make an ‘Uhuh’, sound like that? All disbelieving and curt. Raising a brow, I prompt him. “Don’t you think I can do it?”

“I do have my doubts, to be honest.” My jaw drops, and he rushes to add. “I mean- you do know that a job like that is gonna involve a lotta, you know… bein’ outta your house? Talkin' to people?” At that, I close my mouth. I look down… hm. As I’m thinking, because truthfully the full extent of these things did not occur to me when I raised my hand - seeing as I was bribed…, -, Harper looks back to the front of the hall again, smirking. “And, generally, acting like a human being, and not a… cave creature… “He mutters under his breath, loudly enough for me to hear.

At which point, I promptly take my book to his shoulder. “Bastard.”

Once the meeting is finally over, and I’ve finished my book, I’m almost the very first person to jump from my seat - I was just barely beaten, by Boone. She rushed out the doors faster than I would’ve believed possible for a professional foot racer, - , and struggle against the crowd as they all move toward for the exit and I head straight for Buckman.

Because Harper is right. I’m a hermit, basically. There is nothing that makes me think I can be apart of a group - a very small group, comprising of just myself, Rufus, Lester, Hucklebilly, the mayor and Miss Peaches. Buckman tried to get Boone on board, but she outright ignored his existence in front of everyone until he gave up, - to put together a festival! I barely participate, in our festivals! I go, I say hello to Miss Peaches, Harper and I hold hands, I drink some punch and I leave. And generally, that all only takes about half an hour- it used to be just 15 minutes, before I started to actually like holding Harper’s hand. Or, he started clenching down so I couldn’t leave, and I was forced to start liking it.

But either way you swing it, I haven’t been to a town event that the doors haven’t been locked at - meaning town meetings,- for more than an hour since I was a kid, and I had to.

I’m just not a social person, and no number of baked treats will change that!

It takes a bit of work, but I manage to get to the front of the room where the mayor is packing up before he manages to get away himself. Letting out a relieved huff, I waive to get his attention. “Sir! I wanted to talk to you about me volunteering for the firelight festival- “

“Ah, yes! I gotta admit, I was surprised you raised your hand Y/N, but I sure am glad you did!” Oh boy. Buckman stops fiddling with the notes he has rested on the lectern and leans his forearms on it instead, giving me an encouraging smile. Fuck. Don’t back out now Y/N- this is all manipulation. You don’t want to do this. No baked goods or kindness will stop you! No way! “We need all the help we can get, and you’ve got a good head on your shoulders- I’m sure you’ll be a lotta help to us!”

Oof- okay-“Actually, I was wondering if you wouldn’t let me… back out… “

At that, Buckman stops moving. He may even stop breathing. Is he paler then usual suddenly?

Why am I suddenly cold?

How does he do this? Holy hell.

Then he’s gathering up his stuff quickly, tucking notes under his arm, grabbing his coat, and moving rapidly towards the door. What-My eyes widen, and I go to follow him, but Harper suddenly appears next to me and puts a hand on my arm, to stop me. I look at him helplessly, and he just shakes his head. “Oh- would you look at that clock. We really ran over time, didn’t we? I’m an old man Y/N, and we passed my bedtime a while ago, so I have to be off! See you tomorrow!”

“Sir! - “

“Bright and early! In the town square!”

“I don’t want! - “

“Bring your thinking cap!”

“No! - “He’s at the door now, and basically closes it behind him, except for a crack.

“I’ll bring the pastries! Goodnight!”

I open my mouth to call back again, but the door slams shut - which is over kill, seeing as Harper and I still have to go out of it ourselves, - … and also, he’s got me, there. I’m weak to the thought of pastries.

Sighing, I pout. I should really work on that. It’s a weakness I clearly can’t afford if this situation is any kind of indicator.

Crossing my arms, I twist around to gaze grumpily, up at Harper. “… You should’ve stopped me.”

“Right, and then I’ll go take down the Great Wall of China with your sewing kit. I’ll return for our picnic lunch tomorrow, too. Just excuse me if I’m 10 or so minutes late, okay?” Huffing, I turn away from him again and start shuffling off to the door. In his next words, I can hear the smile in his voice as he follows after me. “Or- maybe I should just cure you of your cave creature state. That could come in far more handy, don’t you think?”

“Well hey, if you could do that, why didn’t you say that, you jerk!?” I shoot back, rolling my eyes as I envision slamming the door in his smug face, but instead hold it open for him and flash a glare as he passes by- carrying both our coats that he must’ve gotten off the hooks for us.

Smirking back, he hands me my coat, which I quickly pull on and wrap warmly around myself. “Hm, but then I wouldn’t have a good excuse to leave things early myself.”

“So I’m just scape goat, to you then?”

“Exactly.” He replies, ruthlessly.

“Damn, well now I think our relationship must all be a sham!”

Harper is silently laughing as he walk off into the night, towards our homes.

“Alright! So tomorrow’s the big day. All your hard worked-on decorations are over there in boxes- now we gotta put ‘em up! Let’s go, team.” A round of half-enthusiastic applause follows Buckman's brief speech, as he steps out of the way for me to announce jobs for the day. Why I got the clipboard job in the first place, I don't know. I didn't volunteer for it, but as I've come to learn through these weeks- the mayor is a manipulative dick. And somewhere between a blueberry muffin, and a cranberry Danish, I found myself saying yeah, okay, sounds good.

When it really wasn't good!!

"O-okay," Tucking some hair behind my ear, I try not to really realise, how focused the group is on me right now. Instead, I keep my eyes glued to my notes. "Rufus and Lester- uh, can you please put up the banner? I think Peaches has a good idea for where to put it so just listen to her, and the ladders are in the sheds so you'll probably need to get those. Also, Hucklebilly, I'd like to set up the May Pole, please? Peaches also knows where that's supposed to go. A-Actually, notice for everyone- when in doubt, g-geographically... just go to her. Buckman, I've got you down for the whole food section- so can you please set that up? And, uh... yeah, that's all. I'm on... candles... Oh! Oh yeah, and, when all that's done we still have to set up the bon fire together so don't run off."

My cheeks are so unbelievably hot when I finally look up from my notes, my arms both going awkwardly to my sides. Before everyone can disperse, though, I find Harper in the group as well? and confusion swells in my mind when he raises his hand? Unsure, really, what to do- I nod to him. "What'd you like me to do, sweetheart?"

... huh?

"You're not... Harper, you didn't volunteer?"

From the position I have, a little higher up a hill so that I can see everyone, I can see him shrug, a laid back smile on his face as his hands go to his pockets. "Well I'm volunteerin' now. Surely, you got a job fer me?" A flicker of mischief flashes in his eyes and his brows lift up; A mock of sincere. "For your fiancé?"

My own eyes narrow a bit, emboldened by Harper's endeavour to bother me. Organising social events may not be my thing- but fighting with Harper- THAT, I can do. "I would have a job 'for my fiancé', if my fiancé had volunteered!"

Lester and Hucklebilly make 'Oooh' sounds that I try to ignore but nevertheless makes me roll my eyes while Harper sends them a shut up, kind of look. The don't. "Well, what're you gonna be doin'?" He asks, turning back to me.

"I'm lugging that wheelbarrow around, setting out the candles." I say, glancing at the wheelbarrow in question. Peaches and I slaved away making those as we planned how everything was going to look and the boys made the banner and streamers, and the Mayor did little more then flit room to room 'encouraging' us all. There's no way I'm letting anyone else just haphazardly fling them around the place- I have a goddamn vision.

"Well, why don't I help you with that? I can push the barrow for you."

I open my mouth to outright refuse, because he's being annoying and I refuse to let him get his way- ever. Or at least, very rarely. But Rufus speaks up before I can say anything.

"Aw, come on Y/N, the boy just wants to spend time with his sweetheart!" The word comes out loud an obnoxious from him, making Harper roll his eyes up towards heaven as Buckman laughs.

"Boy's obviously lovesick."

"It’s practically written all over his face!" Peaches titters as well, smirking sharply.

My shoulders drop. Ughhhhhhhhh- "Fine... You can push the wheelbarrow... " I give in, folding my notes up again and stashing them away in the compartments of my skirts, turning and heading for the wheelbarrow. "But don't try to get in my way, Peaches and I have already figured out where they all go, alright?" Harper catches up to me quickly, smug and pleased with getting his way. I flash him a scrunched-up nose look. "Alright- get to work everyone! The festival opens in 21 hours!

Rufus gives me a salute, and nods as he and Lester go off towards the sheds together, shoving eachother. Buckman sighs and rolls his eyes at them, going the opposite direction, towards the tavern, and Miss Peaches gestures for Hucklebilly to follow her off in the way of the boxes of decorations.

Gathering up some candles from the wheelbarrow and tucking them between my arms and my chest as Harper picks up the wheelbarrow by the handles, I start us off in a circle clockwise around the town centre, setting candles down on different surfaces as we walk. I glance at Harper after just a moment. "You hate town events."

"I don't hate them... " And yet, his unenthused tone says otherwise. And he must know he's obscenely translucent, so he sets me with a new, mischievous, look. "Maybe I just wanna spend time with my sweetheart, huh?"

Rolling my eyes and sighing, I pick up two more candles from the wheelbarrow. "That excuse is losing its charm, Harp. Careful- I may start thinking you actually like being around me." Flashing him a cheeky grin of my own then, I quickly walk ahead, not sticking around for his response. Honestly, because I'm afraid of what it may be.

"Here, let me help you with that, wouldja?" Harper asks, appearing beside me every time throughout the day that I'm struggling with carrying stuff.

"Let me try," He requests, every time I'm worrying my lip at someone doing something wrong, and sets that thing up the way I was telling him it should to be.

"I think Y/N might be right there," He quips, setting his hands thoughtfully on his hips whenever my contention is being contended with- even when I'm wrong. Which is awkward.

All. Day. Harper has been overtly helpful to me- which has been a shock, seeing as for the past century he has been a dick. But today, its like someone hit him smack in the face with the kindness spatula. Its like before the disaster, before we all became... this. When he had something to live for- when he was living.

"Hey... " He suddenly gently nudges my arm, and my neck snaps as I look up at him, eyes wide. Did he read my thoughts?

"Hm!?"

"What're you so jumpy for? Christ- calm down. I'm gonna get us a drink, stay here."

Nodding, I watch him walk off, tilting my head to the side, in thought. I'm not complaining... but it has been a surprise. I'm not quite sure how to act back. Even before we... died... he wasn't like this to me. Other girls, girls he liked, yes. But we never had that relationship, so I cant go back to a way I was, before, because for me this is entirely new.

And I can tell that its not an act for the towns benefit, because even when we're alone he doesn't give it up. He just gives me a pert grin, says something rude - about someone ELSE! - , and then asks what's next.

Not that the new helpfulness is a bad thing! I need all the help I can get on this thing. And I like Harper, he gets me better than anyone and arguing with him is a lot easier then talking to anyone else,... and the kissing isn't bad either, honestly... so having him around, really isn't a bad thing!

I just can’t help but notice the change.

"So- " I jump at the sound of Harper's voice once again, clutching my notes to my chest and closing my eyes tightly, for moment. Before he chuckles at my reaction to him sneaking up on me, and puts a glass of in my hand. I open my eyes again and immediately brighten- Oh, I love this drink! "You noticed how Lester's disappeared again?"

"Uh," I take a quick look around, before nodding. "Yeah?... "

Harper smirks, holding his own glass close to his mouth. "Well... I noticed that Jezebel's gone, too." He takes a swig of his drink, as I make a disgusted face at what he's insinuating... and what's probably true...

"Oh- Harper! That's the last thing I want to have in my head!"

He just grins, silently laughing at my reaction as he runs a hand through his obnoxiously perfect hair, and puts his glass down on a nearby cart. "Yep. So," Checking over my shoulder at my notes, he sets his hands thoughtfully on his hips. "What's next?"

The rest of the group went home hours ago, when daylight turned to dusk, but I of course ended up staying back to just fix up some loose ends. Harper stayed with me- I still don’t know why he’s being like this.

I’m not complaining, but that’s exactly why its throwing me off. I’m liking it maybe a little bit too much- when I know this is all just… fake.

But also I don’t really want to face to that truth, so I avoid making him give me a real answer as to why, and just reach up and hang another lantern.

Speaking of the decorations- there has got to be at least 30 lanterns strewn up on string around the town square, and over a hundred wax candles set up on nearly every spare surface ranging from short and fat to tall and skinny- some partially used, some perfectly new, some with carvings Rufus and Lester spent some time idly etching in, some with names scratched across their bases by kids and couple in the town, some even coloured. Its going to be beautiful when they’re all lit and the festival begins, tomorrow, as long as the night isn’t too windy. But right now its just… spooky. Almost ethereal. Like you’re in some witch’s cave.

“Its gonna look amazing, tomorrow.” Harper speaks up from somewhere behind me, causing a smile to slip across my face too-easily, as I look back over my shoulder to him, and nod.

“Yeah, thank you for your help!”

He’s setting some precariously placed candles in holders to stabilise them, but at my words he stops; And turns on me with a mischievous grin on his face. “Aw- and I thought you didn’t want my help?” Immediately I roll my eyes, turning back to the candle I’m hanging; Fastening it nice and safe.

For the last time- “You didn’t volunteer!”

He shrugs. “You volunteer for something now, I might as well have, too. We’re nearly hitched, Y/N.” He says that so ‘matter-o-fact’- no longer as if he’s taunting me with it. Or talking about it as if its doomsday. Breathing deep, I give a slow nod- though he’s probably not looking.

“That’s… true… “I realise, before looking over my shoulder again, and giving him a little grin. “I’ll ask you next time before I sign up for something.”

At getting a smile back from him, butterflies erupt in my chest. “Thanks.”

For a few more minutes after that, the two of us lapse into another oddly comfortable silence again. Me, hanging the remaining lanterns wherever along the line that they could possibly fit, and him placing some of the more weirdly placed candles into random holders - everyone in town pitched in, donating odd candle holders around the house that they didn’t use anymore, -, both of us aware for once of the others presence, but not… bothered, by it.

Honestly it’s starting to feel like this is normal- the two of us, being just… the two of us. Harper and I, being alone together.

And honestly- if this is the rest of my eternity, I can live with it.

When finally the last lantern has been placed, and the last candle has been set up safely, I’m just standing back from my work, when Harper’s hand finds my back gently momentarily as a sign to stop, and I look to my side and up, to find him standing there next to me. He’s looking at the sky, and I follow his gaze to the familiarly twinkling night sky. All the beautiful stars.

A little, comfortable smile plays at my lips; They, for one thing, have been a nice constant over the years stuck here.

“Hey,” Harper captures my attention again, and I look back to his face to find him already looking at me; He nods to the ground in the middle of the festival- by what’s going to be a punch cart tomorrow. “C’mon.”

Taking my hand, he leads us over to the spot, and as he’s kneeling down, I ask him what in the world he’s doing? He just turns around and lays back on the patchy grass and the sandy dirt, rolling his shoulders to get comfortable- then pats the ground next to him without looking at me. I raise an brow, back.

“… Oh, and you think I’m going to lay down there in the dirt with you.” I realise, crossing my arms over my chest and gently shaking my head. “Cute, but fat chance. You’re going to get grass stains on your dress shirt, and I am not about to follow your lead in one of my favourite dresses.”

“Unless you think you can’t resist wrigglin’, then your dress’ll be fine. C’mon. We won’t be able t’see the stars so well tomorrow, with all the light.”

Worrying my bottom lip with my teeth for a moment, I resist. Because what if its damp? What if theirs bugs? What if I do wriggle, and I mess up my best yellow dress? But in the long run, Harper just looks so comfortable down there and I’m so tired from working all day today- and the idea of taking in the stars while we can, wins out. So, with a huff and also an oof, when my back finally touches the ground, I lay down with him and look up at the stars- they look so much further away, down here. And also, so much closer.

Its weird.

Taking a deep breath, because the air feels fresher down here close to the grass, I let it come out as more of a sigh. “.. So… “

“… So?... “Harper prompts, which really just shows how far our relationship has come. Generally, Harper isn’t really interested in anything anyone has to say. And yet… he wants me to continue.

Coming up with something to say to fill the somewhat awkwardness, of laying down next to Harper, I can’t help the little devilish grin that spreads across my mouth. “So… Is this one of your moves?” I ask, not turning to look at him quite yet.

“Moves?” Theirs amusement in his voice as he questions my wording.

“Yeah. This where you take all your girls, Harper Alexander?” Before you kill them. “Surely that old barn thing gets old.”

“Now, give me some credit here.” Listening to the smirk in his voice, I gently let my eyes fall closed. “I’m a man a’ honour- I wouldn’t take my future wife somewhere I took another lady. My ma taught me how to be a gentleman, she did.”

“Ha!” My eyes widen, and I turn my head to see him finally, chewing on my lip to keep from beaming too ruefully. “Oh- you’re serious.”

Rolling his eyes back at me and my antics, but still with that smirk on his face, Harper shoots me a playful glare. “I sure as heck am!”

Actually smiling now, with teeth and everything, I turn back to look up at the stars once again. They’re so plentiful, and gorgeous… Reaching down, I nudge Harper’s hand with mine; Linking our fingers together when he takes my hand in his, and turning my head to return my gaze to his profile. He doesn’t look back, but he does squeeze my hand a little tighter, and theirs a gentle expression on his face. “… “Finally, I let the moment go after a few seconds, and exhale. “You can be quite charming, I’ll admit.”

His grin just goes a little crooked.

But, me being me, having the relationship that I have had with Harper for as long as I have, I trace a thumb over his knuckles gently then; Realising quite well that that isn’t all he wants, or all he is- at all. It’s not at all giving him the credit he deserves. Lowering my voice to a whisper, like it’s a secret between the two of us and the two of us only, I add; “And cunning.”

At which point, he turns that pretty gaze on me; My eyes are clear- seeing him clearly. Better then anyone else has in a long time. “And annoying and headstrong, and witty, and, in a lot of ways, dangerous.” On a roll now, I roll my eyes and giggle; Unaware of just how intensely Harper is listening as I bring his hand up to my chest; Tracing his knuckles for entertainment. “Sometimes funny. Almost never an idiot, which is a nice change of pace from the men who’ve courted me in the past. Also… curious. A lot of the time I have no clue what you’re thinking- but I am getting better at figuring it out!” Screwing my face up in a cheeky way, I flash him a smirk. “One day I’ll know your every thought Mr Alexander, and there’ll be no hiding from me-” And I would’ve been able to add more, or been able to tease him for a little while longer definitely, at least, but then Harper kisses me. And everything else fades, a little bit.

He actually gets half up from the grass, and leans over me, one hand by my head and messy hair spread out against the ground - fingers splayed in between the strands of grass there, nails digging into the dirt, -, and the other clutching at my waist. Tilting my head to the side, I reciprocate the dizzying, open-mouthed kiss instantly- having gotten used to kissing him by this point. It’s a very nice bonus to the arrangement with him. He’s quite good at it.

But theirs something different, in this one. Usually, our kisses are fuelled by heat from being annoyed at each other, or finding each other attractive just a little bit, but this one is… different. More. My head goes foggy as his lips part from mine for just a second before connecting again, our tongues managing to find each other before we do. My head is foggy, so I can’t quite tell why this kiss is so different, why it feels so much better, but I do have the brain left to sense… passion.

I find that the fingers on one of my hands lose themselves in his soft hair for once just to feel how soft it is, rather then to pull it or keep him in place. And my fingers on the other hand drag at his shirt; Pulling gently at him by the side to come closer and feeling the warmth of his body underneath. All I can think as the heat builds, is fuck…

Meanwhile, Harper curls fingers around the back of my neck and the back of my waist, and helps to guide my upper body up while we refuse to disconnect from each other; So we’re both sitting up, now, exchanging saliva- Something I certainly shouldn’t be allowing in the middle of town square.

(Harper can’t bring himself to give a damn though whether anyone sees you. You’re his fiancé and he’ll kiss you whenever he damn well pleases.)

Through all this, though, we manage to keep our bodies separate. Not even the broadest part of mine presses against his- because that has to wait. It has to. Everything else in this marriage can be fake but to do that together before the wedding night, would be, somehow… a crossed line, that we couldn’t uncross.

Though, I can definitely think of a few other lines at least I have crossed since making up this arrangement with Harper. We said we wouldn’t develop feelings, but-

Abruptly, but still conscious of not surprising him too much, I end the kiss. I’m surprised at myself, but he doesn’t need to know that. When my eyes flicker up to his, I see that they’re dark and half-hooded, looking down at me like a wolf and its almost too much.

But, I manage to paste a calm smile to my face, and my hand to his chest as I push him back a little; Putting a more respectable distance between us. “… I think that’ll be enough for tonight, don’t you lover boy?” The tiniest pang hits my poor heart, when calling him that brings up the memory of Buckman calling him lovesick, earlier.

I have to remind myself that he’s not.

Just take a deep breath, Y/N. Shake the fog out of your brain. Harper’s a good kisser- not a miracle worker. You aren’t in love.

Harper gives a displeased groan, but lets me go as I asked. I immediately hop up off the ground, and brush off my dress- In an attempt at normalcy, I turn around for Harper and showing him the back of my dress. “Did I wriggle?”

He grins, shaking his head. “You’re good.”

“Ookay, thanks.” Turning back to him, patting away some more imaginary dirt, I take a deep breath, glancing up at the stars again. And there’s a scowl full of blame on my face for a second, as I look at them. What did you do?

When I look back at Harper, he’s up on his feet again, tucking his shirt back in properly- its an oddly intimate thing to watch, and makes me feel warm and cold in equal measure.

A moment of silence passes between us, only the sound of crickets filling the air and a coyote howling somewhere far away. Crossing my arms, I stand there awkwardly for a few moments as Harper looks around at the work we did, today. He’s thinking Boy, we did a good job today, I’m thinking Shit, I got love drunk off fuckhead Harper Alexander’s kiss.

Suddenly, I twist around and give Harper but a wave, as I walk off. Without looking back. “Well I’m going to bed. See you tomorrow!”

“Probably.”

At that I hesitate- but look back, and see him smirking knowingly at me- For that’s what I told him after we parted that first day we kissed, just with an alarming amount of ‘tude, that I could just never muster myself.

After a moment, I screw up my nose and stick out my tongue, back at him. “Good night and good riddance.”

#Harper Alexander x Fem!Reader Oneshot Part 3 #Harper Alexander x Reader Oneshot Part 3 #Harper Alexander x Fem!Reader Oneshot #Harper Alexander x Reader Oneshot #Harper Alexander x Reader #Harper Alexander x Fem!Reader #Oneshot #2001 Maniacs #2001 Maniacs x Reader #Horror Villains #Horror Villains x Reader #The Fake Love Of My Life #The Fake Love Of My Life Part 3 #Harper Alexander

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thetsxshibiscusanon · 2 years

Text

Game On

Just after their little (read: ridiculously long) self-care talk the night before, Janus was summoned once again by his Centre to help him actually take on his advice, which leads to a sudden realisation.

~~~~

TS x Sides Weeks 2022 - Thomceit Week, Day 2

Prompt - Firsts

Warnings - Mentions of restless sleep, guilt, mild swearing

Okay this is suuuper late but I plan on getting these all out in order, even if they’re not made on the right days- these prompts are all so good and I just want to use them all, so here’s the first fic from the prompts! I hope y’all enjoy this!

@thomasxsides

AO3 ~ Wattpad

~~~~

Thomas woke up at around 2 pm- despite the exhaustion from the wedding the night before, he hadn’t been able to sleep a wink and had only managed to actually start getting some solid sleep from around 7 in the morning. He woke to the blare of an overworked alarm clock and fumbled around blindly to silence it- sighing in relief as it finally quietened.

He laid in bed for another five minutes before listening to the nagging feeling that was telling him that he should probably get up and start his day properly- even if he just wanted to laze around all day. He quickly freshened up and headed downstairs after shoving on a grey hoodie he had laying around.

After having some oatmeal for breakfast, he sat back on the couch and got out his laptop to start working on some videos that needed editing. He was so far behind on his schedule, but he couldn’t concentrate for the life of him.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the night before, worry flowing through him as he thought about Patton’s meltdown, the look of pain on Roman’s face, poor Logan who had been brushed aside yet again and then the fact that he needed to work and get things done, guilt flooding him as he mentally kicked himself for not getting said work done. And then he’d think about why he couldn’t concentrate, and the cycle would just continue- an endless spiral of anxiety.

Eventually, though, a different thought entirely cut through all his worries as he came to realise that there was one notable moment of the night that he really should’ve listened to initially, a request that was so simple to follow and yet somehow impossible to do for him.

“Glad to see that you’ve finally remembered to take some time for yourself, Thomas,” came a slightly sarcastic voice from the other side of (or rather, in) the room. Thomas had startled once he’d heard him, hand over his heart as he tried his best not to drop his laptop. His head had turned during the start to see who had scared him, finding the serpentine Side sitting on the other end of the couch, one leg crossed over the other as one arm rested on the arm of the couch with his fingers laced together, an eyebrow raised.

“Geez, I know you can be dramatic but there’s no need to scare me like that, bud, gosh,” Thomas said emphatically, trying to calm his quickly beating heart. He got a roll of the eyes and a smirk in return.

“My apologies, I just wanted to inform you of what you really should be doing instead of spending your time so productively- i.e., taking some rest, which I can see you’re doing just magnificently,” said the snake, coming over to sit next to his Centre.

“Yeah, uh, I gathered,” Thomas fired back, deadpan. “It’s gonna be pretty hard to though, I’ve got so much to do but I can’t even concentrate anyways, and I really don’t think sitting around doing nothing will help me take my mind off of everything.”

“Maybe not, but that’s why I’m here to help, isn’t it? I mean honestly, whatever would you do without me Thomas?” Now it was Thomas’ turn to roll his eyes as his Self-Preservation praised himself.

“Not have to deal with an evil snake boy? And you- being honest? That’s a new one,” he joked. “How would you be able to help anyhow- I don’t have anything that would help me relax, I’d just go back to thinking about last night. Not that I should be relaxing anyways, I’ve really got to catch up.”

His Deceit gave him a look and walked over to his TV stand, trying to find something his Centre could do to relax and still be proactive. “Are you quite sure about that? I’d argue that you one hundred percent need to rest and relax after all that’s happened. But what do I know? I’m just the literal embodiment of your Self-Preservation, I have no expertise in this area in the slightest. And for the record, you’re dealing with a regular snake boy who can be honest, actually.” Suddenly, something caught said Self-Preservation’s eye and he picked it up, having found the perfect thing to help.

“Fine, a regular snake boy, but again- just because a lot has happened doesn’t mean I can’t get things done, I really should be anyways, I don’t want to let anyone down and—” Thomas started, before being interrupted by a game controller being shoved into his hands.

“For starters, you would not be letting anyone down. If you’re worried about disappointing your fans, then you yourself know full well how understanding they are- they wouldn’t want you to push your limits just to make them happy. Secondly, you’ve been mentally overworked and you’re incredibly exhausted- you need to do something for yourself and if doing nothing isn’t going to help you then being more active might.”

“But I don’t deserve to rest right now—” this time he was silenced by a finger being placed on his lips.

“There’s no such thing as deserving to rest. You either need it, or you don’t and trust me, honey, you need it. Now shut up, choose a game where you need to think about it and start playing. If you’re going to relax instead of worrying about last night, you might as well be thematically appropriate,” the serpentine Side said, sitting down next to him again. Thomas realised that he was fighting a losing battle and proceeded to pick out a game (Mario Kart- that would definitely keep him focused). As he started choosing the number of players, he got up and grabbed a second controller, offering it to the Side next to him when he sat back down.

“Play with me? It’s way better to play with a real person- or as real a person as you can get.” That earned him a surprised look which turned into a playful grin.

“Oh, get ready, I’ve been told I’m the worst at this game.”

~~~~

After the fifth round, Thomas leaned back and groaned- finally having accepted that, no matter what, he was going to get his ass kicked when playing with his Deceit.

“I did warn you~,” said Deceit teased with a singsong to his tone.

“Oh, shut up,” Thomas replied, swatting his arm lightly while the villainous-looking Side laughed. He sighed, feeling just a bit more tired than that morning, and moved to lean his chin onto his hand. He’d had a lot of fun, but he still didn’t think he should be doing this, it just didn’t feel right.

While he hadn’t said anything, it seemed that his guilt was picked up on anyways.

“You need to rest, Thomas. I assure you, you’ve done well in doing so so far, even if you feel like you should be doing otherwise,” came the gentle response.

“How do you know I need to rest though? What if I’m just being lazy or unproductive?” Thomas retorted, still unconvinced. He saw the man next to him smile ever so slightly as his eyes saddened just a little and as he spoke in soft tones.

“Your exhaustion is evidence enough, my dear. And as for your laziness, replenishing your body and relaxing isn’t being lazy nor is it being unproductive. looking after yourself can be just as rewarding as working. You have to admit, this must’ve been better than trying and failing to work hours on end, no?”

Thomas thought it over. It had felt better to just have some fun for a bit, even if he wanted to get things done, and he also knew himself that he wouldn’t have actually been able to be productive to the extent he could’ve. In fact, he’d probably have just felt worse because of it. He smiled a little.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. Thank you, Janus.” Thomas looked over to see Janus staring at him in surprise and mild awe. “…You good, buddy?”

“…That was the first time you’ve said my name,” Janus said so softly it was almost a whisper, so much so that Thomas had to strain a little to hear what he’d just said. Thomas blinked.

“Huh. I… guess you’re right. Well, hi there Janus. I’m Thomas, nice to meet you,” he said outstretching his hand for a handshake in a half-joking manner. Janus looked down at it and smiled, huffing a little, then taking it as though he was about to kiss the back of it.

“The pleasure is all mine,” he said, before actually bringing it to his lips and kissing it. He looked up and now Thomas was surprised, but he smiled, nonetheless.

After a brief moment’s silence, Janus cleared his throat and gently dropped Thomas’ hand, adjusting his gloves. “Well, I’m glad I could be of service to you today, Thomas, but I really ought to be going, I’m dreadfully busy y’know.” He made his way to get up, but Thomas just pulled him back down again with a competitive sparkle in his eyes.

“Nope. You’re staying so we can continue playing and I can finally beat you, I’m not going down without a fight.”

Janus blinked, and then smirked, chuckling.

“Oh, game. On.”

#hibiscus scribbles #thomasxsides weeks 2022 #tsxsides weeks 2022 #thomceit week 2022 #thomceit week 2022 day 2 #thomceit #ts janus #janus sanders #character! thomas #thomas sanders #ts x sides #tsxsides #thomas x sides #thomasxsides

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harryhandstan · 3 years

Text

so..I hate that this is so late but happy to finally have this done and be posting it for y’all! hope you enjoy! thank you to my betas @tbslenthusiast, @serendipitystyles, and @summertimestyles you’re all angels!! also sham was so kind to help me create a playlist for this fic which you can find here!

this is for @taintedwonder‘s Styles Valentine’s Day fic challenge and most of the photos from the header were my inspo along with prompts 3. Can you just hold my hand? and 6. Let’s run away together.

as always any likes, rbs, replies, and feedback is welcome and very much appreciated!

word count: 4.1k

writing tag | masterlist

You can read his face before he even opens his mouth to speak.

“You have to leave again, don’t you?”

He doesn’t answer at first, just joins you where you sit on the bed, an arm around your waist to urge you closer to him. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, as if that will soothe the sting of what he’s about to say. He buries his face into your neck before he speaks.

“Only for a little while, angel.”

You don’t respond by returning the kiss like you normally would, narrowing your eyes down to where he’s hiding his face, “How long is a ‘little while’?”

“You could always come with me, y’know..”

He’s avoiding the answer and he knows it, eyes darting up only briefly to look at your face.

“How long, Harry?”

He’s fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt now, focusing on the loose thread hanging instead.

You nudge him lightly, pulling his attention back up to you, “Just say it! How long?”

He sucks in a big breath before releasing it and then the words come out in a rush, “A few weeks, possibly a month.”

You have to take your own deep breath before asking, “When do you have to leave?”

“Promise you won’t be mad?”

“Promise.”

“My flight’s on the 14th.”

“February 14th? As in we don’t get to spend Valentine’s Day together?”

“M’so sorry, love, I really thought we were gonna get to spend the day together.”

He’s pulled back from where he was hiding his face, studying yours now. It hurts him to see the disappointment written there; the pinch in your brow, the downturned corners of your mouth, the way your eyes have temporarily lost their shine and fallen misty.

“Ya really could come with me, y’know. Take a bit of time off, would do you some good to take a break.”

He knows better, knows it’s just a fantasy that you would ever be able to get that much time off from work to be able to travel with him.

“C’mon, love, let’s run away together.”

The way he’s looking at you know, it really wouldn’t take much more convincing to turn his fantasy into a reality.

“What am I gonna do when I’m cold and don’t have you as my personal heater to help me get warm?”

“S’why I left you my pillow to snuggle with. There’s a ton of extra blankets too, use as many of those as ya need.”

How could you explain that no amount of warmth from any blanket would ever compare to his? A blanket wasn’t capable of softly brushing your hair back from your face or tenderly pressing it’s lips to yours as you drift off to sleep. You open your mouth to try to illustrate such facts, but you close your mouth just as quick. You aren’t trying to be difficult or clingy, and you don’t want your last bit of time together to be filled with your complaints.

That thought only lasts for a moment, your anxiety building with each mile closer to the airport, “Well what do I do when your pillow doesn’t smell like you anymore?”

“I’ll try to be back before that happens, deal? Besides, you’ve got a whole drawer of my t-shirts to sleep in too. They all smell like me, right?”

“They do, but, Harry..what if..”

“Shh, hey, we’ve been through this before, right? S’gonna be hard for me to be away from you too, but I promise we’ll be alright. You can call me anytime you’re missin’ me, remember?”

His voice is that of someone trying to pacify a small child just before a tantrum, and you feel as though you’re being whiny and unreasonable. Missing him when he was away was almost unbearable though; everything seemed heavy and dimmer and you know it would feel like an eternity before you were together again.

“Promise we’ll make up today the second I come home. You plan the whole day and just tell me when and where to show up, okay?’

The fact that it was Valentine’s Day didn’t matter so much to you. You and Harry made it a point throughout your days spent together to express your love to one another whenever you could, so today was really just..another day to spend together. So it’s missing him that has tears forming in your eyes again, just as they had the night before.

“Can you just hold my hand? Until..” You don’t finish the sentence, letting your voice trail off so he won’t hear it break.

“��Course I can, baby.” He offers his hand, never taking his eyes off the road even as he lifts your hand to his mouth to place a kiss to the back of it.

Though you know he would never admit to it, you swear you feel the speed of the car slow just the tiniest bit, Harry wanting to add as much to your limited time together as he can.

Despite it still being light outside, coming home to the space you normally share together alone makes you want to do nothing but crawl right back in bed. It’s mid-afternoon and with Harry not home to motivate you to do something more productive, that’s exactly what you aim to do.

After dropping your purse and keys near the door and double checking the locks, you’re startled by the sight of a bouquet of bright pink roses adorning your dining room table. They definitely weren’t there when you left, and you pluck the small card nestled between the flowers with your name scrawled across the front. It’s Harry’s almost illegible handwriting and the sight of it makes your heart soar with excitement before you flip it open to read the message.

It’s simple and small, more of his writing scratched across the cream colored paper in bold, black ink. Love, love, love, H. There’s a badly drawn heart underneath the note, and that makes you giggle out loud, filling the silence. If Harry were here, he’d have some cheeky comment about how adorable your laughter is, how he loved the sound of it.

“Don’t want you moping around the whole time m’gone, yeah? Promise me y’ll do more than just sulk around the place until I get back?” This reminder was given just before he’d had to rush off to catch his plane, giving you no time to offer him much more than a quick peck and a sad smile as an agreement.

So technically what you plan to do would not be considered breaking a promise, just..catching up on the sleep you would’ve gotten if you hadn't had to wake up so early to ride with Harry to the airport. Normally that was something you would decline to do, preferring to sleep in, which Harry usually was fine with; but this time he had insisted on you accompanying him on his drive, wanting to get as much time with you on this day as he could.

Just as you're about to venture down the hallway to the bedroom, you spot another item you’re sure hadn’t been on your coffee table earlier that morning when you’d left. It’s a medium sized box, messily wrapped with red paper and tied with purple ribbon and a bow. It’s quite heavy when you lift it, so you sit on the nearby couch to avoid dropping it. You waste no time tearing the paper away, lifting the lid to reveal a candle surrounded by tissue paper.

There’s a pack of two lighters wedged next to the candle, and you curiously pull it from the box first to see more of Harry’s handwriting on a red sticky note.

Baby you light up my world like nobody else...

That pulls another laugh from you, this one is bigger and echoes through the dimly lit space. The candle itself is a scent he knows you love, and you bring it closer to your face and inhale deeply. The smell of it helps ease even more of the unease and sadness of him being gone. You dig your phone out of your pocket to check the time and try to calculate whether his plane has landed and he would be able to answer a call from you.

You ultimately decide to nap first and give him a chance to get settled. He would most likely be calling you later anyway, missing you just as much as you missed him and wanting to hear your voice. You could thank him then for the flowers, candle, and the laugh. So you continue your journey to the bedroom, slipping out of your clothes and sliding open the drawer of Harry’s t-shirts. He’s right, they do all smell like him and you run your fingers along the soft fabrics before selecting one.

It’s plain white, one of his undershirts normally tucked beneath his expensive button ups and ruffles, but today it’s perfect and comforting attire to doze off in. It’s loose and just long enough on you that you don’t feel the need to put on a pair of your pj shorts with it, The bed is still messy from the morning, and you swear you can still see the outline of where Harry’s body normally tucks next to you on his side. You pull the blanket back and crawl into your usual spot, but it doesn’t feel right; it’s too empty and quiet without Harry.

You grab his pillow from his side and try your best to replicate the way you would curl yourself around him if he was here. It takes a bit of time to adjust, but eventually you give up and just try to relax into the mattress as much as possible, covering your head slightly with the blanket to surround yourself with warmth.

You peek through the space uncovered to the alarm clock on the bedside table on Harry’s side, the bright red letters read 12:32 p.m. and you let out a deep sigh before drifting off to sleep. If you weren’t so tired, the thought that crosses your mind might just make you laugh again.

Alone in bed in the afternoon on Valentine’s Day. What a shame.

You wake with a start, bolting upwards at the sound of your phone ringing loudly from somewhere near the bed. You don’t even bother to open your eyes to see who it is, just following the motions to answer and plop back down onto your spot as you let out an almost breathless and groggy “hello?”

“Not missin’ me too much, I see, took you a whole minute to answer,'' You know he’s joking by the hint of amusement in his voice and relief floods through your chest before any other feeling at the idea of him making it safely to his destination, “You alright, love? Sound a bit outta breath. Having some fun in our bed without me?”

“I..no, I was napping, promise, your call just scared me awake..how did you know I’m in bed?”

“I’m only teasing. Just a guess, figured you’d find your way back to the bed not long after you got home.”

“Found the flowers and the candle. Your note on the lighters made me laugh, thank you. How’d you do that though? They weren’t there when we left for the airport and you didn’t come back in.”

“Had one of my assistants drop the flowers off, and the candle’s been stashed in the closet for a week so she set it out for me while she was there. Wish I could’ve been there to see your face and hear that laugh,” He giggles at the thought of it, “S’that all you found? The flowers and the candle? I assume you found the one in the bathroom too, right?”

You’re more alert now, sitting up again to try to process what he’s saying more easily, “What do you mean? There’s more? The bathroom?”

“A few more, yeah. Hid here and there for you to find.”

“You left me a scavenger hunt? Do I at least get clues to help me find them all?”

“I’ve just given you one, haven’t I? Might be persuaded to give you a few more later.”

You’re up off the bed now, making your way to the bathroom where another surprise awaits. You hesitate for only a moment, stopping just as you reach the door.

“What’s in the bathroom? More flowers? One of those big, fluffy teddy bears?”

“M’not gonna tell you! You gotta go in to find out!”

Flipping on the light switch has you gasping at what you see. A heart, entirely made from more red sticky notes, each one embellished with reminders of his love for you. You stumble over words, trying to form a coherent response.

He senses your shock even through the phone and graciously gives you a moment before asking, “S’the heart all wonky or does it look nice? Told them to make it as straight as possible.”

“H..it’s beautiful! How did you have time to write all these before you left?”

“Finished up most of them last night after you fell asleep. They came to me a lot easier with my muse snoring next to me.”

You truly don’t know what to say to that. You’ve never had someone be so bright and loud with their love for you and just this simple expression makes you feel so incredibly special and loved.

You know that emotion is flowing through the phone when he speaks again, softer and lower, “Y’sure you won’t let me fly you out here to be with me?”

There’s the sound of another voice before Harry barks out another laugh, “Jeff says m’proper miserable without you. He said he’d pay you whatever your salary would be for the next month just to have you here.”

“Tempting, but..” Harry knows how much you love your job and how such a long absence would jeopardize the career you’ve built, so you know he probably won’t mention it again.

“Technically it was gonna be part of my present for you, so..I’ll give you another clue.”

“How very generous of you, H. Will this one make me cry too?”

“Maybe. Knowing you, probably,” You roll your eyes but listen for further instructions, “Just remember I had to rush and there’s still a few I didn’t get to add but, go get your laptop.”

“What’d you do to my laptop?”

“Would ya just go get it? C’mon I’ve gotta hang up soon and I wanna hear your reaction before I hafta go.”

“Alright, I got it. What now?”

“Go to your music library.” He gives you a moment to navigate through your programs, “Should be a playlist there with your name on it, lovie. Wait, are you already crying?”

“Shut up! Yes!” You wipe at your eyes with the hem of his t-shirt you’re still wearing as you try to read over the list of songs, “This is so sweet! The flowers, the candle, the heart and now this. Harry..I didn’t get you anything and you did all this for me. Thank you, I love you.”

“Love you more,” You can just picture the smug smile on his face, pleased that he’s done a good job of surprising you, “You can make it up to me later.”

“Don’t push your luck there, H. You’ve just been forgiven, I still have time to change my mind, you know.”

“I know. I wouldn’t blame you if you did.” You hear what you assume to be Jeff’s voice again in the background, “I gotta go, babe. I’ll try to call again later, alright?”

“Wait! I don’t get any more clues? Can you at least tell me how many more are left?”

“S’no fun for me if I give away all my secrets now, is it?”

It’s only a day later when you find yourself in the kitchen, uncertain about what to make for dinner, eyes scanning over the ingredients in your pantry. Your laptop sits on the counter nearby, and you hum along to My Girl playing through the speakers, a song selected for you by Harry for the playlist he recently made for you.

You’re about to give up and heat up your leftovers from the Italian take-out you had treated yourself to the night before, when you spot the pack of Haribo gummy bears wedged in the corner. You almost have to stand on your tip-toes to reach it, and when you run your hand along the shelf you find another bag of sweets not far from the gummy bears. You smile down at the two bags, his favorite candy and yours sitting side by side.

There’s another of Harry’s red sticky notes on the pack of gummy bears: Being away from you is unBEARable. More of his cheesy jokes you’re sure he thought of himself. Your candy is void of any words, just another messily drawn heart, this time with your name in the middle.

You decide to FaceTime him this time, wanting to see his face. It only takes 3 rings for him to answer, a tender “Hi, baby.” falling from his lips. The room he’s in is dimly lit, but you can still see him well enough to notice his hair is damp. His curls are more pronounced than usual, which was a sign he’d been too tired to much more than probably run his fingers through after his shower.

“Found another of your surprises.” You hold the candy up for him to see and he smiles.

“Better save me some of those Haribo, and not just all the colors ya don’t like either.”

You tear open the bag, sticking your tongue out at him before popping a few into your mouth, “I might, if you tell me where all the other surprises are.”

You can see him temporarily consider it, biting his bottom lip and meeting your gaze before he shakes his head, “Nah. I will tell you there’s only one more though..well, depends on how you look at it, but to me they only count as one.”

“They?”

He mimics locking his lips, and you decide to drop it for now, knowing you would most likely have to trick or beg him to tell you later. You’d let him think he won. For now.

You roll the top of the bag of candy down, opening the cabinet to tuck them back into the same corner you found them in. They just didn’t taste the same without him there to enjoy them with you. Plus you still had a still had leftover garlic knots and mushroom ravioli you planned to dig into later.

“S’that the playlist I made for you? Sounds like it.”

The song has changed to At Last, Etta James’ voice filling the small kitchen, “Yeah. I love this song.”

“Me too. Reminds me of you now..my love,” You sway a bit to the music before stopping, leaning forward to where your phone is propped on the counter, “Wish I was there t’dance with you.”

You try your best to hold back your emotions of missing him, but you imagine how he would rest his hands on your hips if was here. How he would spin you to face him and move his hands to rest on your back while he led you around in a slow circle across the floor. It wasn’t just his hands you longed for, it was the way he would bend to your ear to sing along to whatever song you were dancing to, especially one like this he knew you loved. You missed his voice in person, the way it would surround you with a comfort and peace you’d never be able to replicate with anything else.

No matter what you do you can’t stop your thoughts from trailing to how when the song was over, he would lift you to sit on the counter and kiss your forehead. You’re wearing one of his hoodies tonight, and you pull the sleeve down over your hands to use to try to quickly wipe away any tears before he sees them. Once you feel you’ve reined in your emotions to the best of your abilities, you clear your throat before speaking again.

“I miss you, H.”

“I miss you too, angel.”

The music has changed again, Don’t Worry Baby by The Beach Boys lifting the mood enough you don’t feel so heavy and overwhelming with your yearning for him. You take a deep breath, planning to ask him about his day, but before you have a chance he says, “Go to your bedside table. The top drawer.”

“What?”

“M’tryin’ to tell you where your last surprise is. Go to our bedroom and look in the drawer. I’ll wait.”

You flash him a smile before turning to make your way out of the kitchen, through your living room and down the hall to your bedroom. It takes a bit of searching before you uncover a stack of bright, pastel colored envelopes tied together with the same purple ribbon as the candle from the day before. You work quickly to untie the knot and turn the lamp on so you can read the front of each one. There’s 4 total; open when you need a laugh, open when you miss my hugs, open when you need a reminder of my love, open when you miss me.

You tear into the final one immediately, setting the others aside for later. It’s not very long, the perfect length to boost your spirit even further. Just the thought of him taking time to sit down and write his expression of love for you makes you grin, and has that same feeling of being loved spreading through you as it did the previous day when you saw the heart on the bathroom mirror.

You had almost forgotten leaving him on hold in the kitchen until you hear, even from 3 rooms away, the sound of him singing along to whatever song is playing now. You close your eyes, picturing for a moment that it’s a typical night when he’s home, darting around the kitchen while he makes dinner or puts dishes away.

You make your way back through the house to him, envelope in hand. Each one had been a different color so the second he sees which one you have his eyes brighten, his smile growing bigger the closer you get.

“Of course you opened that one first. Did y’like it?”

You shake your head no, breaking into a laugh when you see the look of disappointment on his face, “I loved it. Very charming of you to do all this just for me, H.”

“Yeah? I did a good job surprising you then?”

You roll your eyes. This man and his need for praise was too much, but he was yours, and you were his and you would do anything to assure him that you loved him just as much as he loved you.

“You did an amazing job, really, Harry. I never expected you to be able to do so much so last minute.”

His mouth drops open in mock dismay, looking down and shaking his head, “I can’t believe you would ever doubt me!”

You don’t say anything, just shake your own head at his teasing, sharing a look of adoration before you look away.

“Hey, did I leave my lip balm there? The coconut kind I use before bed? Thought I had it in my duffel but I couldn’t find it when I got here.”

“Yep. I used it earlier when I got out of the shower. Want me to send it to you?”

“Nah, you don’t have to, but..you could bring it to me in person if you wanted.”

“I would if I could, Harry.”

The tone of a new text from your phone startles you, and you try to suppress your elation as best you can at who it’s from. It’s Jeff, confirming the time of your flight he’d helped you schedule for the following day. Harry knows you too well, would instantly be able to read your face and be suspicious of what you were up to. You step away from his line of sight to let the thrill run through you, to let it fully wash over you so he wouldn’t see. You return as quickly as you can, brushing it off as if you’d just gotten a text from your boss or a friend. He was oblivious, none the wiser at what you were planning.

It was your turn to surprise him.

#stylesvdaychallenge #harry styles imagine #harry x reader #my writing

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shorkbrian · 4 years

Text

Fine

Prelude - I had some more classes start today, so I will probably not have time for hardly anything. We’ll see. But please be patient with me, I appreciate y’all

Pairing - Izuku Midoriya X Reader

Prompt - @lbrownsugarbbyl mentioned in a comment that their birthday was a few days ago. Hope this suffices, I'm sorry I’m really bad at writing stuff for people lasjhlfhals

Warnings - NSFW, dub con, Pseudo-incest, pussyjobs,

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/5XeFesFbtLpXzIVDNQP22n?si=kLjNx2bbTiWzW37DHZuB8Q

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It’ll be fine.

Everything’s fine.

That’s what Izuku tells himself everyday when he heads up to your room five nights out of the week, fresh from college. He knows your schedule, you get home half an hour before he does on Wednesdays and Thursdays, a full hour on Monday, Tuesday, and Friday.

That gives you enough time to shower, brush out your hair, change into something comfy. Izuku always finds himself wishing he could give you one of his shirts, one of the large ones that would reach down to your thighs. He wishes he could see you wearing that, nothing else.

But Izuku understands that there are limits. Limits to what he does to you, limits to what he can ask of you.

You always find a way to push his limits, make his resolve crumble away into dust, thick dust that chokes him as he drowns in his sins.

Izuku spends almost all of his time in your room now, waiting for bedtime, waiting for when he can climb into your bed, lay down beside you, be close to you.

He knows he’s needy, maybe more so than what’s normal. But he likes listening to you talk to your friends on the phone with him draped over your back, likes sitting against your feet doing his homework while you do yours. Izuku likes being around you, needs your presence and your company to feel stable, to feel okay.

Things are different now, different because of you. He always used to be so anxious and nervous, easy to push around and bully. But then his mom had met your dad, and he had met you.

You had been such… you had been a life saver, literally. You were the one that had come up to the school roof while Izuku was contemplating following Bakugou’s advice to take a swan dive. You had his bento box in hand, presumably looking for your new step-brother to tell him he forgot his lunch. Izuku had burst out crying the second you opened your mouth, dropping to his knees and scrubbing at his eyes. It was embarrassing, humiliating, his head hurt and so did his heart. Everything was bad, bad bad bad, but then there was you.

Kneeling down beside him, using your sleeve to wipe at the snot and tears smeared all over his face. Pulling him into a deep hug, cradling his head against your chest, asking him to breathe with you, deep breaths, slow breaths.

You never asked what he was doing up there - it was pretty obvious - even to someone new to the school - how badly Izuku was bullied.

But you, oh, his beautiful step-sister, you never treated him like that.

You were kind, soft smiles and soft hands as you walked with him between classes. He forgot about the mean words and vicious jabs thrown his way when he was with you, instead focused on the way your lips moved as you talked, the soft, girlish tone of your voice. You were an angel in his eyes, both figuratively and literally.

All throughout high school, izuku stuck by your side, and you let him, encouraged him even. Let the male press into your side during lunch, let him squeeze next to you on the bus, let him follow you around like a lost puppy. He still had yet to hear a mean word, an insult, a derogatory remark towards him fall from yours lips. You were too good for that, his sister, his /savior/. College is when the problems started.

And by problems, Izuku means attraction. You managed to snag yourself a boyfriend, your attention shifted from Izuku and onto this new person. Someone else besides Izuku was taking up your time, and it hurt.

It wasn’t hard for Izuku to spin lies about you to your “boyfriend”, to the idiot who thought they were entitled to your time. Something about using your boyfriend, about only being with him because he had money. Of course Izuku knew none of that was true - you would never! But Izuku needed you to himself.

He proceeded to subtly ruin every relationship you formed, even those that were just “friends”. All Izuku knew was that he needed you attention, all of it, no exceptions.

And you never figured out why you friends drifted away, why you couldn’t hold a boyfriend for more than a week before they were spitting in your face. It seemed like Izuku was the only one who was constantly there for you, through thick and thin. As time passed, it became easier to forget about trying to meet new people, easier to just be complicit and accept that Izuku was all you would ever need, just like you were all he would ever need.

He was there for you! Just like you were there for him, all those years ago. Izuku made sure to stress to you that you could go to him for /anything/. Homework help? He’s putting his glasses on and scooting over so you can sit down beside him at the dining table. Trying to decide on dinner? Izuku will help, opening the fridge and offering to make something for you. Need to run to the store for “feminine products”? Izuku is already shrugging his coat on, snatching the keys off the counter and telling you to go lay down, he’ll get anything you need.

He’ll do anything you need.

And he knows how long it’s been since you’ve had a decent orgasm.

Izuku convinced himself that he was just being a good brother, being a good man, as he bought you a vibrator. Your moans had sounded so forlorn in the shower, as if whatever you were doing wasn’t enough, like you wanted, no, needed more.

And he knew that some would think it’s weird that he sits outside the door as you shower, hell, he could see you wrinkling your nose as he presented you with the vibrator. But it’s just Izuku, nervous, needy Izuku. You know how he hates being alone.

He’s able to convince you to accept the toy. And the next time you shower, he knows you’re muffling your moans in case he’s sitting outside (where else would he be?), but Izuku swears he can hear the quiet buzz of the toy, and he can definitely hear your delicious little whimpers as you cum.

It all goes downhill from there.

In some dark, cobwebbed corner of his mind, Izuku registers that it’s weird. It’s odd that he’s so obsessed with his sister, that he’s so attracted to you. But he didn’t want to be attracted to anyone else, he didn’t want to need anyone else. And he certainly doesn’t want you having, wanting, anyone but him.

It’s fine, everything’s fine - He had said that first night, crawling into your bed with you. He repeated it softly as he slipped his hand up your legs, pet your cunt through the thin fabric of your pajama shorts. It’s what he had breathed into your ear when you tried to wrench his hand away, when you gasped at his boldness.

You knew how needy he was, didn’t you? This wasn’t weird, it’s fine, just Izuku missing you. Plus, he just wants to take care of you. Won’t you let him?

Izuku smiles into your neck when your hands stutter from pushing him away.

Everything’s fine.

The touching progresses. It’s only under the cover of darkness, under the cover of your blankets. It always starts with Izuku crawling into your bed, waking you up with a gentle kiss to your forehead. No matter how much you try to tell him otherwise, Izuku knows you need this. He knows it feels good too, he’d done extensive research.

Playing with your pussy, feeling your juices slide down his fingers, rubbing and tapping at your clit, playing you like a fiddle. Occasionally a hand will reach up and tweak a nipple, massage your breast, send liquid fire thrumming through your veins. Izuku likes seeing you arch back, mouth opened and eyes rolled back in pleasure as his hands work you over. It’s almost enough to satisfy him. But he’s so needy.

It’s one of his limits, he’s only gonna touch you. He’s not gonna take his pants off, he’s not gonna pull his cock out, no matter how hard he is, no matter how uncomfortable it gets. He doesn’t want to make you uneasy.

But just like his other limits, you shatter his resolve on keeping this limit firm. You’re just so wet and receptive to his touch, rolling your hips against his hand, muffing your little gasps and moans into your pillow. Izuku can tell you want more, that you need more, something thick and hot and soft pushing at you clit, something bigger than his fingers.

so it’s fine, everything’s fine as he pushes down his pajama pants, pulls his thick cock out of his underwear, lets it rest up against your pussy.

He has to clamp a hand over your mouth to keep you from screaming. Explains that he’s no gonna go inside, he’s just gonna help you feel even better. You’ll let him, won’t you? He’s made you feel so good already.

When you hesitantly nodded, obviously not convinced but not actively fighting, Izuku smiles and removes his hand, pressing another kiss to your forehead.

When he wraps a hand around himself, the pleasure zings so fast up his spine that if he weren’t already laying down facing you, he would’ve fallen over. Izuku lets his cock head rest against your clit, lets the tip rub against your ltittle button on each quick stroke of his fist.

He knows it probably isn’t as intense as when he stimulates your clit directly, but you seem to be enjoying it all the same, shivering and bucking your hips closer to him.

It feels so good for Izuku, fucking into his tight fist, slide eased by your wetness, pressing the blunt, drooling head of his cock against your rosy little nub, making your squirm and moan so sweetly.

He cums right after you do, letting his cum paint the outside of your pussy, make it messy, adding to the slick wet that was already there.

From there, izuku isn’t shy about pulling his dick out every other night. It becomes a common occurrence, pussyjobs and Izuku humping you, thick cock sandwiched between the puffy lips of your cunt. He never fails to take care of you - if you don’t cum before he does, your brother will always graciously finger you until you squirt.

It’s fine, everything’s fine as long as he doesn’t go inside, right?

That’s one of his limits.

It’s fine, he won’t cross that line

Hopefully.

#yandere #yandere izuku #yandere izuku midoriya #yandere deku #stepbrother #step siblings #tw dubcon #bad izuku #yandere thoughts #yandere boku no hero academia #izuku midoria x reader #Yandere midoriya Izuku

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omg-im-such-a-masochist · 3 years

Text

😡🤬ANGER MANAGEMENT (PART 1)🤬😡

Prompt: Y/N has the life she’s always dreamed of: a good house, a nice car, a fat paycheck, her dream job and some loving friends. Her life feels like a fairytale...but just like every fairytale she’s not safe from the villain, the problem with that? He’s not only an incredibly hot Scotsman but also a fucking pain in the ass!

@drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan

Word count: Long-ish

Pairing: Drew McIntyre x Reader

Warnings: +18 smut, clit stimulation, angst, dirty talking, cursing, name calling,(possible part 2?Idk)

Notes: I think it’s time for me to face my biggest fear: Drew McIntyre! 😂 all jokes aside, I’ve lost count of how many one shots I have written and soon after deleted about this handsome hunk. There are so many good stories of him out there that I’ve always felt like mine were actually horse shit compared to those so I’ve never had the courage to make this Scottish wet dream an official brand of my writing, but I’m looking forward to achieve new accomplishments on my writing in 2021, so here goes nothing folks! Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) and if you’re comfortable with it,please let me know what you think? Some feedback is always welcomed and appreciated ❤️You can check out my other stories typing ‘masochist writes’ on the search bar on my page and my newest story as a fixed post.Okay,now let’s get to the fun part,shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

“Oh Thank God! Just the woman I wanted to see”

I turned around to meet Becky Lynch, one of the few dear close friends I’ve made while working for the WWE as a massage therapist.

“Hey Becks! What’s up?”

“Y/N I need your help, I was doing some training with the guys when suddenly I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder and now I feel like I wanna cry”

“Oh Becky, c’mon let’s go to my office”

Once we got there I mentioned for her to sit on the massage table.

“So tell me exactly what you were doing”

“I was doing some regular weightlifting, then all of a sudden I felt this sharp pain stretch from my elbow to my shoulder”

“Ok, did you warmed up before hand?”

“Yes”

“Did you added the weights in progressively or were you in some sort of competition against Sheamus, Cesaro and McIntyre as to whom could perform a proper weightlifting faster?” I crooked my eyebrow

“Y/N! You know I would never do that” She tried to hide her shame for being caught

“Becky, I know you! I know how competitive you are and how competitive you GET when you train with Sheamus, Cesaro and the Scottish prick.”

“They started ok?! They said I was no match for them, so I had to make them swallow word by word” She said slightly angry

“Calm down” I chuckled “And I presume you won?”

“Of course I won! As if they stood a chance” She scoffed

I touched her shoulder and palmed the back of her upper arm til I reached her elbow

“And your prize for that my darling is” I looked into her eyes “Six muscular knots, probably some small damage to your elbow nerves resulting in a little trip to the physical therapists and shit ton of pain, congratulations! Are you happy now?”

“Oh no!” She whined “Y/N, please don’t send me to the physical therapists, they will eat my ass off and they’re gonna tell Hunter about this. Please Y/N, please tell me you can fix it?” She stared at me with begging eyes

“Becks” I sighed “I can undo the muscular knots but I ain’t no fairy godmother! If you have some sort of nerve damage that’s up to the physical therapists...there’s nothing I can do about that honey”

“Please Y/N give me some of the red magical relief juice you gave to Kofi” She pleads

“Red magical relief juice?” I asked confused

“Yes, Kofi said he had this horrible pain from an injury and you gave him this red magical relief juice that helped him better than any medicine! Please give that to me too!”

I laughed before answering

“Oh Kofi, Kofi... it’s not an juice, it’s a liquid... a toner. A home made medicine I learned with my grandma. Technically I’m not even allowed to use that, but I know it works, better than these crap versions of Vick’s Vapor Rub” I tossed a little small green package in the trash can.

“Can you give that to me?” She asked with her eyes full of hope

“Fine” I said and she smiles widely

“But, you have to promise me that you will stop with these stupid and senseless competitions! They could permanently damage your nerves you know?!”

“Ok I promise”

I took a small plastic bottle from the cabinet and filled up with some small amount of the toner and placed the bottle inside a small paper bag. I also gave her a little bit of my grandma’s famous ointment in a tiny tin can.

“Alright, so here’s what you’re gonna do: once you get to your hotel room, you’ll take a hot shower and before you put your clothes on, you’re gonna rub the toner from your neck to your elbow all over your shoulder and back upper arm” She nods and I proceed “Then right after you’re going to take a small amount of this ointment” I show her the little tin can “And rub it all over your shoulder, back upper arm and elbow. Right afterwards you get dress with a long sleeve shirt and go to bed. Remember that you cannot leave your skin exposed to the cold air of air conditioning, because if you do it will make your pain and damage way worse! Do you hear me?”

“Yes Ma’am”

“If in three to four days you still feel any sort of pain you’re gonna have to go to the physical therapists”

“Ok”

“Becky I’m serious”

“Okay Y/N I got it” She smiles softly

“Good, now please, don’t tell anyone about this” I shook the little bag “And tell Kofi to keep his mouth shut. I know he means well but I could get fired for this”

“My lips are sealed” She pressed her lips in a thin line

“Thank you” I chuckled “Now, go on and take 20 drops of this” I give her some Ibuprofen “And come back in 20 minutes”

“Why?” She asks confused

“Because we still have to undo those knots and it’s not gonna be the fun kind of pain my dear”

“Argh” She groans

One week later

I was finishing tidying up the massage table from the session I just had with Bayley when someone knocked on my office door

“Come on in”

“Hey Y/N” Seth Rollins said in a voice full of pain as he tried to walk towards me

“Seth are you ok? Jesus, you look like somebody just kicked your balls so hard that they went up to your throat! What happened?” I tried to hold back my laugh

“A long story involving Cesaro and Drew. Moral of the story is my back is fucked up, do you think you can help me?”

“Can you lay down here?” I patted the table

“I guess so” He made his way to it excruciatingly slow as I helped him to lay down

“Where’s the pain worst?”

“My lower back” I touched and he gasped in pain

“Do you think you could give me some of that red magical relief juice?” He whispered so only I could hear it.

Of course I wasn’t surprised about him knowing of the “magical relief juice” since he and Becky were together I figured she told him.

“Did Becky told you?”

“Only today, once she saw I was in a tremendous pain...When she was using it I pressed her to tell me who gave it to her but she didn’t wanted to say, she said it was her fairy godmother”

I couldn’t help but smile at Becky’s inside joke and loyalty. I truly love that girl.

“Sure thing Rollins, just please don’t-“

“I won’t tell anyone Y/N don’t worry! Your witchy recipe is safe with me” He chuckled “Ouch fuck, that hurts” He groaned

“Did you bring any jacket on with you?” I laugh

“Yeah Becky told me to”

“Ok, let’s get start it”

Forty minutes and a relaxed thankful Seth Rollins later. I was finishing washing my hands while Seth pulled the zipper of his jacked up. I could feel his eyes on me

“What is it Rollins?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“If the question is if I am a 450 year old witch then my answer is, you will never know” I whisper as I turn to face him with a smirk

He laughs before saying “Well I’m sure you are sweetheart” He winks playfully “But that’s not the question though unfortunately”

“What is it then?”

He looked at me with a sense of caution before asking

“Why do you hate Drew so much?”

“McIntyre? The Scottish prick? The shitty bearded version of Gastón from Beauty and The Beast?” I ask in disbelief

My hatred for Drew McIntyre goes way back to 5 years ago. To make a long story short he has being a pain in my ass every since I started working here. It all resumes to the bad flirting and endless fights. We’ve always fought at least 3 times a week for as long as I can remember. It’s like a weekly ritual for us, and our fights are always petty and ridiculous such as who will get in the elevator first or who will rent the last SUV car.

“Yeah...” He answers slightly embarrassed

“Well that’s simple, he’s an asshole! A smug fucker who thinks he’s the most beautiful man to ever walk the earth and that every woman alive must fall for him in all fours”

“Is there anything else beyond that?” He asks

“No! Of course not!” I lied. As if I could tell him about my deep sexual desire for the Scotsman

“Are you sure? I mean, you must agree with me that he is very beautiful” Seth answers

“I’m not saying he’s not. I have eyes, so trust me, I know he’s hot as fuck and a very handsome man but that doesn’t mean that every woman on this company wants him!” I scoffed

“Does the ‘every woman’ equals Y/N?”

“Why are you asking me this?” I asked aggressively

“Look, there’s no need for you to get all defensive ok? I’m your friend and I’m just asking this as a friend. I’m not coming for you by any means” He says with a soothing voice

“Sorry, it was just my automatic response”

“It’s okay sweetie”

“But Seth...why this question now?”

“Let’s just say that I may or may not have heard some backstage talk and I would like to know this from your own mouth instead of other people’s”

“Backstage talk? About what?” I ask angrily

His eyes widened “You know what? Let’s forget I ever men-“

“No no no Rollins you’ve started this now you will finish it!” Now I was really angry

“Fuck, I should’ve kept my mouth shut” He murmured

“But you didn’t! So spit it out”

“Ok...I’ve heard one of the girls say that the reason why you hate Drew so much is because you kinda have a hidden want for him to fuck you but since he’s ‘not interested’ you get pissed off” He whispered

“I WHAT??? WHO THE FUCK SAID THAT?”

“Y/N please keep your voice down! Somebody is gonna hear you”

“I COULD GIVE TWO FUCKS IF SOMEBODY CAN HEAR ME! Who’ve said that Seth?” I was boiling with rage

“Sweetie, I’m not gonna tell you who’ve said it because I know you will-“

I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and whispered

“If you don’t tell me who’ve said that right now Rollins I swear to God on God in heaven that I will cut your balls off and shove them down your throat!”

He gulped

“Now who’ve said that?”

“Carmella” He whispered and I smiled letting go of his collar “Y/N please don’t do anything stupid!” He said as I removed my coat

“Don’t forget to rub the toner on your back once you’re out of the shower” I patted his shoulder and made my way to the door

“Y/N where are you going? Y/N please whatever you’re thinking about doing it, just don’t ok? She’s not worth it! Y/N PLEASE!”

But his screams were now faint as I make my way down the hallway to find the blond gossiper girl.

I finally find Carmella “talking”, to Sheamus in one of the hallways.

“Oi Y/N, how’s life treating ya lass?” Sheamus smiles widely at me, making his usual greeting. At any other day it would’ve made my afternoon happier to find that amazing Irish man, but not today! I was so furious that I ignored him and went directly to Carmella

“Would you mind telling me why the fuck are you not only minding my business but also spreading rumors about me and McIntyre?”

From where I stood I saw Sheamus visibly gulp

“Hey Y/N, what do ya say about we go to tha catering grab some coffee huh?” He said urgently pleading

“So? I’m waiting for an answer” I said to her fully ignoring what he just said

“Well Y/N, from woman to woman, I think we both can agree that it’s no rumor. It’s quite visible, to not say pathetic, the way you can’t deal with rejection my dear” She batted her lashes

“And what exactly are you implying?”

“The obvious Y/N! That you want Drew in between your legs but he doesn’t! I mean, let’s face it, he’s too much of a man for you anyways! It’s not like you can handle him, because we know you can’t” She measured me from head to toe making me feel very conscious about the difference between her slim toned body and my thick one full of curves.

I know that most of the men’s in this company usually date or even have one night stands with women who were body equivalent to their own - slender and beautifully toned - , but that doesn’t mean that they didn’t saw my own curvy beauty. Hell, I even got some dinner invitations from some of the guys! Cesaro, Baron Corbin, Finn Bálor and even Seth Rollins (before he got with Becky) were some of them.

“I bet that I received more dinner invitations in a week than you in a year” I scoffed

“But not from the man you want the most right darling?” She evilly grins and I see red! Pure rage in it’s rawest form took ahold of me and I jumped towards her neck but a pair of strong arms stopped me from attacking her.

“Wow, easy now lass” He said

HIM! The cause of all this gossiping with my name, I couldn’t get even more angry even if I tried.

“Let me go McIntyre!” I roar

“Uh, enjoy it while it lasts Y/N, it’s as far as you’ll ever get anyways” Carmella chuckles

I tried to wiggle out of his arms “What the fuck did you just said bitch? I’ll feed you your own teeth you fuck-“

I couldn’t finish my sentence thanks to Drew, who lifted me off from the floor and tossed me on his shoulder, taking me to back my office.

“What are you doing? Let me go! I’m gonna punch her stupid rat’s face!”

“No you won’t”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m preventing your ass from getting fired!” He answers

I tried to release myself from him, but who was I fooling? The man is a brick wall, I couldn’t let myself go not even if I tried hard!

Once we got into my office he locked the door, placing himself in front of it and released me.

“Don’t you never, EVER, dare to manhandle me like that again! Do you hear me?” I stare at him with my eyes full of rage

“You know Y/N, all that anger is not good for you...you could have a heart attack” He chuckled

I was so mad, that tears of anger rolled down my cheeks as I cut the small distance between us and begin to punch his torso, arms or whatever I could reach

“I HATE YOU! YOU’RE THE REASON WHY I AM NOW A FUCKING BACKSTAGE GOSSIP SUBJECT! IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT, YOU’RE SO FULL OF YOURSELF AREN’T YOU HUH? SHITTY ASS GASTÓN!”

I was starting to loose my strength due to my ferocious attack, and I would be damned if I let him see that...

When suddenly everything changed, the air in the room thickened and I saw myself now pressed against the door with my hands forcefully pinned on top of my head.

“Aww, that was sweet princess” He smirks confidently

“What are you doing Drew? Let me go” I murmured

“Oh it’s Drew now huh? Why the sudden change love? What happened with ‘Scottish prick, asshole and Gastón’?” He cackled “What’s wrong princess? Not feeling so confident and in charge anymore are we?” He pouts

“You’re hurting me” I lied

“Nu uh, we both know that, that’s a lie. I know you Y/N, every inch of you so don’t you lie to me now! That’s not what pretty little girls like you do” He reprimanded me

I felt confused and slightly turned on by his whole dominant character. But still I felt the urge to fight back.

“And what do you know about me McIntyre? NOTHING! So don’t YOU dare to pretend that you do! You know nothing about who I am or my needs, so quit the act”

He laughed before saying “And that’s where you’re wrong princess” He towered over me, securing my wrists with one of his hands while the other grabbed my cheeks making my lips pout(like one would with a child) and tilted my head up to meet his blue gaze.

“You see Y/N, we’ve known each other for what? 5 years? I’ve done a lot of observing in those years... I became quite good at reading you” He leaned forward..his beard,lips and mustache brushing against my own lips

“So I know for a fact that what triggered you into fighting Carmella wasn’t what she said...But the fact that what she said is true” He searched my eyes for confirmation and when he found it he smirks in appreciation

A murmured ‘Fuck you’ came out of my lips the best way I could since he had this vicious grip on my cheeks.

“Oh Y/N, Y/N... what am I going to do with you princess?” He asks amused as he release my cheeks “I must say though... I agree with almost everything Carmella said” He vaguely added

Pure humiliation filled me, the thought of him knowing that deep down I had a thing for him which wasn’t reciprocal at all made my stomach turn. I felt the tears of humiliation start to rise to my eyes, but I wouldn’t give him the pleasure to see that he had broken me. Instead I reached for the safety of the one thing I knew I could do: fight!

“You let me go right now you fucker or I swear you will regret it!” I said as threatening as I could

“Oh my, won’t you look at that? Kitty has claws huh?” He chuckled lightly

I took advantage of his distraction and yanked my arms as fast as I could out of his grip. The action caught him by surprise, giving me the upper hand to turn around to unlock the door so I could leave. But his surprise didn’t last long as for he saw what I was about to do and pressed me against the door once more, instead now my back was the one facing him so he pressed his semi hard bulge up against my ass with my hands and face now pressed on the wooden door.

“Where do you think you are going princess? We’re not done talking just yet” He whispers in my ear, making my whole body shiver.

“As I was saying before you rudely interrupted me” His lips were glued to my ear “I almost, I said almost, agree with everything that she said..except for one thing”

“If you’re gonna say that-“

“Maybe I’ll have to buy you a ball gag, since you don’t seem to ever know when to shut up...or maybe I should choke you instead,what do you say?”

I gulped loudly

“Or even better, I should fuck your mouth..bury my cock so deep on your throat that you will have no other option but drool all over yourself” He pressed his bulge harder against my ass “, that will make you shut up! I can already imagine how gorgeous you will look with my cock shoved down your throat” He moaned “Would you like that princess? Would you like for me to show you where’s your place? Where you really belong?” He grinds his erection on my ass and the feeling makes me moan softly

“Drew...” I pleaded

“The only thing I don’t agree with Carmella” He continues his previous statement ignoring my plea “Is that I’m too much of a man for you. To be honest I think you’re the only woman in this company who can actually handle me! The only one who will love and beg to be fucked faster and rougher..” His hands let go of my wrists and roam down to cup my breasts roughly, pulling me even closer to his body

“The only one who is the perfect fit for me...who will let me use every single hole as I please” He bites my ear making me gasp for more air.

“Won’t you Y/N? Do you want me to use you like the good little whore that you are?”

My head was buzzing with excitement, I could feel the now very wet pool of desire in between my legs. To think that all of my darkest fantasies with this man were about to come true made me moan a faint ‘Yes’ to him

He grunts at my positive response while one of his big hands unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans so his hand could sink down the fabric to find my very wet core.

“Hmmm I’ve been waiting 5 years for this lass...Fuck, you already feel amazing on my hand I can’t wait to feel this pretty little pussy around my cock” He growls

“Fuck Drew, please” I whisper

“It’s Sir to you, my good little pet” He smirked “Now tell me, do you think I should fuck you right here, right now so that everyone in this company can hear me make you my fuck toy or should we head back to the hotel? What do you say pet?” He asks as his fingers firmly circles my clit making my legs shake

“W- Whatever pleases you Sir” I stuttered

“I see you’re a quick learner huh?” He chuckles amused “I say, let’s show this roster who is the only woman who can properly handle me” He says as he removed his fingers from my core and licked them clean while staring at me. I softly moan to that scene and he smiles deviously before whispering

“Strip now pet and show what a beautiful fuck toy you are for Sir”

To be continued...

Please let me know if you would like to see a part 2 🥺?

#drew mcintyre #drew galloway #drew mcintyre one shot #drew mcintyre x reader #drew mcintyre x oc #drew mcintyre fanfic #drew mcintyre smut #wwe smut #wwe imagine #wwe one shot #wwe fanfiction #masochist writes

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4stars-uswnt · 3 years

Text

Home Is Wherever I’m With You [Christen Press x Reader]

requested by anon: Hey, there just want to drop of this prompt in case you feel like writing it. Reader got home after a few months being away from CP because of the quarantine, maybe a moment of CP confronting R that she’s jealous of R’s teammate that got to lockdown together. Thanks.

A/N: after a week break (for the election and other stresses of life) (and technically i haven’t written in like three weeks bc of life and school), we’re BACK! hope y’all like this one :) and as always, feedback is more than welcome!! anyways, back to your regularly scheduled programming...

“Hey, baby, I’m home,” you call out, as you enter the LA apartment you shared with your girlfriend, closing the door behind you, “fucking finally.” You mumble under your breath, as you drop your bags onto the floor.

“(Y/N)!” Christen runs from the bedroom upon hearing your voice, but before she can crash into you for a long-awaited hug, you put up your hands to stop her.

“Woah, Chris,” you almost falter at the sight of her pout, “I just got off a plane and came from the airport. I need to shower and get all these yucky germs off me.” You smell your shirt and make a face to exaggerate your point.

“But I missed you.” Christen pouts, and you give her a sympathetic smile.

“I missed you too, babe, but I just wanna be extra safe. Can’t have you getting sick or anything like that.” You wink, as you make your way to the bathroom. “I’ll be out in a minute.” Blowing her a kiss, you disappear down the hallway.

Christen sinks down into the couch, letting out a frustrated groan. If the forward was being honest with herself, she more than missed you; she was jealous. Although she knew that you loved her and only her and the two of you had been dating for almost two years, Christen couldn’t help the green-eyed monster from taking over when she constantly saw you on Sofia Huerta’s instagram.

The past two months, you had to quarantine in Seattle and stay in your apartment that you shared with Sofia during the season, while waiting for COVID to settle down enough for you to travel. During that time, you and Sofia spent a lot of time together, doing anything to keep you entertained.

Unfortunately for you, Sofia had often posted on her Instagram story photos and videos of your activities, whether it be a movie night or a bike around Discovery Park, leading to a very annoyed Christen Press.

It wasn’t that Christen was jealous in the sense that she thought there was something going on between you and the midfielder, more so that she was jealous that it was Sofia that got to spend time doing all that fun stuff with you rather than her.

Too caught up in her thoughts, Christen didn’t notice you plop down next to her. “You there?”

“Hmm,” she turns to face you, “yeah, yeah, just got lost in thought.”

“Well, now that I’m all clean,” you smirk, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively, as you move to straddle your girlfriend, “I thought we could make up for some lost time.”

“I like the sound of that.” Christen leans in closer to connect your lips.

—————

The next morning, after a long uneventful night, you woke up in your own bed next to your girlfriend for the first time in months. Turning over, you smile and admire the sleeping woman next to you. Wanting to do something somewhat romantic, you silently slip out of bed, careful not to wake your girlfriend, and head to the kitchen to make some breakfast.

As you were fixing up some coffee and healthy yogurt, oats, and chia seeds (or whatever healthy stuff your girlfriend puts in her breakfast), Christen was groggily waking up. Rolling over, she reaches out to the other side of the bed, expecting to find your warm body, only to be disappointed with cold sheets. Christen rubs her eyes and sits up, but before she could call out to you, you enter the bedroom, carrying a tray with two bowls and a cup of coffee.

“Good morning, sunshine.” You smile, leaning down to give your girlfriend a peck. “Brought you some breakfast in bed.”

“Thanks, babe.” Christen’s heart melted, as she looks to see what you made. “Aw, and you even made my favorite.”

“Yup.” You playfully boast and wink. “Your favorite for my favorite.”

Your girlfriend can’t help but giggle at your cheesiness. “Well, thank you. I appreciate it, love.”

Right as you go to take a bite, Christen grabs your wrist. “Wait.”

“Whatttttt?” You whine like a child.

“Lemme take a photo.” She explains gently, ignoring your antics.

You roll your eyes, as she takes a photo of your bowls and posts it to her Instagram story:

The two of you spend the rest of the morning in bed, eating breakfast, giggling, catching up, and just enjoying each other’s much missed presence.

—————

Later that afternoon, as the two of you were doing your separate tasks, Christen preoccupied with re-inc and you with your article for the tribune, you finish typing your thought and shut your laptop. You get up from the sofa and approach your girlfriend, who’s sitting at the kitchen counter, wrapping your arms around her waist and resting your chin on her shoulder.

“You almost done?”

“Almost.” Christen hums, smiling slightly, as you kiss her shoulder and then her neck, making your way up to her cheek.

“I’m bored.”

Christen finishes writing her email and then turns around to face you. “Well, what do you wanna do?”

“You’re done?” You ask, feeling slightly guilty from pulling her away from her work, knowing she had more to do.

“I can be, if you offer up a better alternative.” Christen teases.

“Oh, I definitely have something better to offer.” You smirk and bring her in for a deep kiss. You immediately swipe your tongue on her bottom lip, asking for an entrance, which the green-eyed woman grants. Your mouths move in a perfect harmony, like a well-rehearsed dance. As you kiss down her throat, Christen lets out a sigh.

“Yeah,” she breaths, “this is definitely better.”

“Yeah?” You mumble into her neck.

“Mhmm.”

“Well then,” you pull your head out of the crook of her neck, “you’re just gonna have to wait till later because I found this Bob Ross tutorial that we’re gonna do.” You exclaim giddily, and you give Christen’s nose a quick kiss.

“Really, (Y/N)?” She calls out after you, as you go to get the supplies, slightly riled up. But when you come back, balancing canvases in one hand and paints and brushes in the other, Christen completely forgets about her frustration, as she sees your enthusiastic smile.

“C’mon, Chris.” You nod your head for her to follow you into the dining area. “And bring some wine too!”

Christen laughs, shaking her head, but grabs a bottle of rosé and two glasses.

“So what scene are we painting?”

“‘Island in the Wilderness.’” You scroll through YouTube until clicking on the video.

“Sounds hard.” Christen states hesitantly, as she pours some wine for the both of you.

“Eh, it probably is, but that’s the fun of it.” You shrug, thanking her, as she hands you your glass.

“Whatever you say, babe.”

While you’re setting up the canvases on easels and open up the necessary paints, Christen quickly pulls out her phone to take a picture of the set up, once again adding it to her story:

“Ready?” You turn to your girlfriend, about to start the video. Christen nods and picks up one of the brushes.

About 10 minutes into the tutorial, you lean back into your chair, frustrated by the difficulty of the painting.

“Ugh! This is so hard.” You set your brush down, replacing it with your glass of wine. “How does Bob make it look so easy? Mine looks nothing like his, or even yours.” Pouting, you gesture to Christen’s piece, which unfairly looks quite similar to the video’s.

Your girlfriend just chuckles at you, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek, hoping to placate you. “(Y/N/N), yours is looking great.”

“You have to say that. You’re my girlfriend.” You huff jokingly.

Christen ignores you and continues to watch Bob paint some trees just by flicking his brush back and forth.

Having given up on your own painting, you sit back and watch your girlfriend gracefully paint. You soon become bored, Bob Ross’s soothing voice almost putting you to sleep, so you grab one of your brushes. Reaching out, you poke Christen’s cheek, dotting blue paint across the side of her face.

Her jaw drops, and she turns to face you, as you have to stifle your laughter.

“You did not just do that.” She glares at you, readying her own brush, and before you know it, you have a stripe of green paint down your nose.

You raise your eyebrows at your girlfriend and then narrow your eyes. “Oh, it is so on.” You reach out in front of you and dip your hands in paint, and you see Christen out of the corner of your eye doing the same.

Before she could prepare herself, you’re smearing paint up and down her arms.

“Hey!” Christen shouts. “That’s not fair. I wasn’t ready.”

“All is fair in love and war.” You cheekily smirk.

“Alright, if you wanna play that way…” Christen trails off, as she cups your cheeks with her painted hands, squishing them together, effectively rubbing paint all over your face. “There you go, love.”

“That’s it. You are so getting it.” You wipe your mouth, where some paint had gotten.

Christen squeals and goes to run away, causing you to chase after her. Catching up to her, which is no easy task, fortunately for you, the forward had been wearing socks, you wrap your arms around her waist and pick her up. You nuzzle your nose in the crook of her neck, effectively spreading the paint.

“(Y/N), my clothes!” Your girlfriend exclaims in between laughs.

“It’ll wash out. And if not, I’m pretty sure you have like at least ten other shirts just like that.” You set the other woman back down on the floor, and she turns to wrap her arms around your neck.

“I love you, (Y/N).” She says with a giant grin on her face.

“I love you too, Christen.” You rubs your nose against hers, snorting when you see paint end up on her nose. “You’re more beautiful than any art piece.”

Christen giggles and brings you in for a sweet kiss. Pulling away, she backs away from you, slowly turning around to head to down the hallway.

“I think I could use a shower now.” Christen reaches for the hem of her shirt and pulls it over her head. Looking over her shoulder, she throws you a wink, as she unclips her bra. “You coming?”

Your eyes widen at the sight of the smooth skin of your girlfriend’s back. Shaking your head, you knock yourself out of your stupor and eagerly follow Christen into the bathroom, almost tripping on your own two feet.

—————

About twenty minutes later, the two of you are clean, having gotten rid of nearly all the paint off your bodies. As you’re going to get dressed, you notice Christen changing into a pair of sweat shorts.

“Babe, you might wanna change into something a little warmer.”

“What? Why?” Christen furrows her eyebrows, tilting her head in confusion. “What’s wrong with my shorts?”

“You mean besides the fact that they’re mine?” You tease, earning a blush from your girlfriend. “We’re going out.” You tell her succinctly.

“What? Where?”

“It’s a surprise.” You pull on a pair of loose jeans and slip on a warm sweater.

“Well, will you at least tell me what to wear?” Christen prods.

“Wear some layers. It might get cold.” You give her a quick kiss before heading into the kitchen to prepare your surprise, leaving your girlfriend absolutely clueless and struggling to pick out some clothes.

While Christen was fussing over her outfit, you quickly put together some fruit, and some cheese and crackers into a picnic basket, along with the bottle of rosé, two glasses, and a blanket. Scanning the apartment, you quickly thought of what else you needed. You snatch two of the pillows from the couch and stuff them in another bag.

'What else? Is that everything?’ You think to yourself. ‘Flowers, definitely need some flowers!’

You grab the basket and the bag with the pillows and head to the front door. “Chris, I’m gonna go pick up the mail!” While that was only partly true, as the mail had definitely been sitting in your box all day, you were also gonna go put these bags in your car and pick some flowers on the way out.

“Okay, thanks, babe!” She yells back from the bedroom. With that, you kick the door shut behind you and head down to the garage.

After having picking some flowers from the shared garden at the front of your apartment building, putting everything in the trunk, and grabbing the mail, you reenter your apartment.

“What took so long?” Christen asks with no malice in her voice.

You look up from the mail, and your breath hitches. Your girlfriend was wearing a simple outfit, a pair of light-washed jeans and a sherpa quarter zip, and her curly hair was in a half-up-half-down bun. While it may be simple, her beauty never failed to take your breath away.

“(Y/N)?” She pulls you out of your thoughts.

“Sorry,” you shake your head, “I ran into Jerry, and he wanted to know, and I quote, ‘where the hell’ I’ve been.”

Christen chuckles. “Of course he did.”

Jerry was the doorman and was very excited when he found at that Christen Press and (Y/N) (Y/L/N) would be living in the building, as he was a huge fan of women’s soccer.

“So, you ready?” You reach out to take your girlfriend’s hand.

“Yup.” She squeezes your hand. “You still not gonna tell me where we’re going?”

“Nope.” You quip. “You’ll just have to be patient, my love.”

“Fine.” Christen pouts, and you kiss her cheek, wiping the frown off her face.

—————

It was about a fifteen minute drive to the beach from your apartment, and when Christen recognized the familiar route, she piped up.

“We’re going to the beach?”

“Mhmm.” You hum. “You’re too smart for your own good, Press.”

“That’s what happens when you go to Stanford.” Christen teases, knowing your distain towards the school, you yourself having gone to Cal.

“Whatever.” You mumble under your breath, earning a small giggle from the other woman.

You park the car and race around to open Christen’s door for her. “M’lady.” You say with a fake posh British accent, as you hold your hand out for her to take.

“Why thank you.” She blushes, responding with her own accent.

As you open the trunk and pull out the things for your picnic, Christen’s eyes soften and feels her whole body flush with a warmth she could only describe as love.

“(Y/N/N),” she gasps, “what is all of this for?”

Closing the trunk, you give her a goofy grin. “What? I have to have a reason to spoil my girlfriend and take her on a romantic picnic on the beach?”

“I mean— no.” Christen’s cheeks tint pink.

“That’s what I thought.” You throw her a wink. “Now, c’mon, this food won’t eat itself!”

The two of you make your way down onto the beach, finding the perfect spot where there weren’t very many people. After you finish setting up the blanket and pillows and unpack the picnic basket, Christen snaps a photo of the serene setting, as the sun is almost setting.

“Chris, come join me!” You wave over your girlfriend, who notices that you’re now sitting on the blanket, snacking on some grapes.

The forward slips off her shoes and takes a seat next to you, sinking her toes in the sand.

“This is amazing, (Y/N).” Christen intertwines your fingers and kisses the back of your hand. “Thank you for this, and this entire day really. I don’t know what I did to deserve it.”

“Just being you, Chris. You deserve the world.” You smile softly. “Annnddd, I figured since we’ve been apart for so long, this was the least I could do.”

“Well, thank you, again.”

You lean in to give her a sweet kiss. “Anytime, babe.” And Christen could tell by your voice, and just from knowing you, that you truly did mean any time, that you would do anything for her because she would do anything for you.

Watching the sunset, the two of you snack on the food and sip on the wine you’d brought, conversing about plans for the holidays and the upcoming Olympics.

At the break of your conversations, as you sit in silence, watching the waves crash and the last rays of sun reflect across the water, you feel your phone buzz. Checking the screen, you see it’s a text from Megan, and you chuckle in amusement but also in confusion.

“Chris, do you know why Pinoe texted me saying: ‘Thanks for making me look bad with all your romantic gestures. Now Sue is badgering me, asking why I never do stuff like that for her.’?”

“Um, I have no idea.” Christen looks down, suddenly finding the sand incredibly interesting.

“Hmm, okay.” You eye your girlfriend suspiciously, as you text your teammate back, asking her what she’s talking about. Seconds later, you get a response telling you to check Christen’s Instagram story. Opening the app, you click on your girlfriend’s posts and notice she’s documented the activities throughout your day, from breakfast in bed to painting Bob Ross to your romantic picnic.

Looking up from your phone, you turn to Christen and see she’s still fiddling with the grains of sand.

“Chris?” You gently coax. “Is this what Pinoe was talking about?”

She nods, feeling embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, no,” you grab her hands, guiding her to look at you, “I’m not mad at you, baby, not at all.”

You weren’t angry or upset with her for posting those pictures, as your relationship wasn’t a secret to anybody, but you knew this wasn’t like Christen at all. You knew your girlfriend was a very private person, not one to post or flaunt your relationship on social media, and you respected her decisions and boundaries, being a somewhat conserved person as well.

“I’m just surprised, that’s all.” You continue, gently brushing a loose hair out of her face. “What brought this on?”

Christen murmurs something under her breath.

“I’m sorry? I didn’t quite catch that.”

She takes a deep breath and repeats herself. “I wanted to show everyone that you’re mine. I know it’s stupid, but I was a jealous of Sofia and how you two got to spend so much time together. And I know that you would never ever cheat on me, I know that, (Y/N), but it just sucked that I couldn’t be with you for the past two months, so I just wanted to show people that—“

You bring your girlfriend’s face closer to yours and kiss her, cutting off her rambling. Leaning your forehead against hers, you look deeply into her eyes.

“I love you, Christen. And being away from you for these past two months absolutely sucked because you’re my home, Chris, as cheesy as that sounds it’s true. I’m sorry if I did anything to make you feel like I was ignoring you by spending time with Sofia. I love you and only you.”

Christen shakes her head. “No, (Y/N), you didn’t do anything wrong, I promise. I was just frustrated by this whole pandemic and not being able to spend time with you.”

“Me too, Chris, me too.” You pepper her face with kisses, causing her to throw her head back giggling.

“And I’m sorry if me posting stuff from our day made you uncomfortable.” Christen apologizes sincerely, before nudging you with a slight smirk on her face. “I just wanted to show off my amazing romantic girlfriend to the world.”

You let out a hearty laugh. “I don’t mind being shown off, babe, not at all.”

“Good, because I plan on doing it for a long time. You’re stuck with me.” She sticks out her tongue at you, earning a fond smile.

“Lucky me.”

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #christen press x reader #christen press imagine #christen press imagines #uswnt #christen press

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rizlowwritessortof · 3 years

Text

Meant To Be - Chapter 1

Dean and Jordan are each trying to escape their painful pasts. Their chance meeting and a dangerous encounter begins a relationship that may give them both a new start. (Tags will be on the fic masterlist post so y’all don’t get bombarded with each chapter.)

Pairing: Police Detective Dean Winchester/Jordan Taylor

Word Count: 3583

Warnings: Abusive relationship and related violence, nothing graphic.

Aesthetic by @editsbymichele on Instagram; Dividers by @firefly-graphics

The sudden stop sent the car skidding a little in the gravel, the dust cloud swirling to dissipate in the breeze as Jordan jumped out, slamming the door hard behind her as she yelled into her phone. “Kiss my ass, Darrel! No, you did this, don’t lay it on me! What?! Like hell I’m coming home! Just go back to your new little drinking buddy-slash-fucktoy and leave me alone. You can’t have it both ways. No, fuck you. Fuck you sideways, buddy. I’m done. Have a nice life.”

She let out a frustrated scream, slamming a fist down on the hood of the car, so pissed off that she was shaking. She whirled around, startled, as a deep masculine voice called out. “Poor car. Sounds like Darrel’s the one you should be punching.”

“Excuse me? That was a private conversation!” she spluttered, glaring at the source. He was standing in front of a beautiful black beast of a car, the hood up, wiping his hands on a shop rag. She could feel the heat in her face, and his appearance slowly filtering through her rage into her brain didn’t help. He was gorgeous.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Sorry, sweetheart, but the way you were yelling, there wasn’t much private about it.” He dropped his chin a little, his eyes narrowing as he spoke again. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to butt in. Are you okay?”

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she turned to the car, jerking the back door open to grab her bag. “It’s okay, sorry I was such a bitch. And I’m not okay, but I will be. I’m gonna be fucking awesome.” She stuffed her phone in her back pocket and fished the key card out of her bag, fumbling with the door. “Thanks for asking, anyway.”

She glanced back at him before going in, watching his little nod of acknowledgment and rueful smile. She closed the door shut behind her and leaned against it, dropping her bag. “Well, that wasn’t embarrassing at all. Screaming like a crazy woman in the middle of a parking lot, in front of the most fucking attractive man you’ve ever seen in your life. Awesome start to your new life, Jordan.” She moved to the window, peeking out the side of the curtains at him as he continued working under the hood of his car. He was tall, solid, in beat-up blue jeans and a well-worn grey t-shirt that was smeared with grease and dark in spots from perspiration. She watched the muscles in his biceps strain as he worked with some kind of tool, stopping for a moment to grab the rag from his back pocket and wipe his face. He was ridiculously good-looking, even with smudges of grease on his arms and face. Actually, somehow that made him even more attractive, a man’s man, a man who wasn’t afraid of hard work and getting dirty. He glanced her direction, and she backed away quickly, swearing under her breath.

She sighed, letting her eyes roam around her room. It was almost like a little bungalow, with a kitchenette and a couch against one wall, and she wandered over to take a look out the back door. Now wasn’t that convenient! Right across the street behind the motel was a little liquor store, and she began to smile to herself. “No guts, no glory, girl. Get over there and buy that fine man a cold beer to apologize for being a hag.”

A few minutes later, she was stepping back out the front door with two icy-cold long necks in her hands. He watched her approach, wiping his hands, a slow smile lighting up his handsome face. “Here. To say I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“Well, no apology necessary, but I’ll be damned if I say no to that! Fuckin’ hot out here,” he rumbled, taking the beer gratefully and taking a long pull from the bottle.

“Fuckin’ hot anywhere you are,” Jordan thought to herself, joining him after a little salute with the bottle in his direction. “Nothing better than an ice-cold beer on a hot day,” she said out loud. “So – what’s wrong with your car?”

“Oh, nothin’, really. Just tuning her up a little. Killing time, actually. I’ve been here one night already, looks like it’s gonna be another couple. Just waiting for my brother to get back.”

“Ahhh, so you just like to tinker.”

“Oh, I just like to make her purr.” Jordan almost choked on the swallow of beer she had just taken. “She’s just like a woman, you treat her right, she’ll treat you right.”

She smiled at him, getting one back in return. “Well, I’m glad there’s a man in this world who knows that. I’m Jordan, by the way.”

“Dean. Nice to meet you, Jordan.” His voice was on her frequency, apparently, because every time he spoke she felt her breath catch. His eyes were green with hints of gold, framed by thick lashes that any woman would die for, and she looked down at her beer, peeling at the label, unable to withstand his candid gaze any longer. They chatted a little longer about how good the beer tasted, how hot it was, how comfy the rooms were. He finished his beer, setting the bottle down and reaching up to lower the hood and close it. The muscles of his back under that damp, clingy t-shirt raised Jordan’s temperature another notch, and she had to mentally prompt herself to close her mouth. She cleared her throat, taking a long, cool drink, surprised it didn’t just come out of her ears in billows of steam.

“Well, Jordan, thanks for the beer. I’d better hit the shower. Maybe we’ll run into each other again.”

“Yeah, maybe.” She smiled back at him, and then watched him walk back to his room, two doors down from hers. Those jeans hugged his body just right, and her eyes followed his bow-legged amble all the way to his door, finally forcing herself to focus on the ground before he could turn and see her staring again. Holy. Shit. She headed back to the room and opened another beer, scolding herself. Not really the best time to be lusting after some stranger, not with all the shit she’d been through the last few weeks. She plopped down on the sofa with a sigh, roaming through the channels on the TV while she finished her beer, then headed for the shower.

Dean dropped the empty beer bottle into the trash and sat on the edge of the bed to untie his boots. He smiled to himself, Jordan’s dramatic entrance into the parking lot replaying in his head. “Little firecracker, that one,” he muttered. She was a little bit of nothing, but what was there was nicely arranged, he had to admit. Big brown eyes, hair short and sexy just like her, kissable lips…

He laughed quietly to himself as he imagined Donna’s teasing voice in his head saying, “Don’t even think about it, partner. Ain’t you had enough?” As soon as he was cleaned up, he needed to call and check on her, see how she was doing. He headed towards the bathroom as he stripped his t-shirt off, pushing the door with one foot to swing it closed.

The bar and grill down the block looked like a good enough place to find some food, and Jordan walked that way, running her fingers through her tousled, short hair. The screen door squealed as she opened it, pushing hard to shove the heavy inner door open and walking into the bar, the air conditioning sending a refreshing chill over her arms. A waitress walking by gave her a pleasant smile and hello, telling her to sit wherever she pleased and she’d be right with her.

There was no one in the place at the moment but a table full of elderly men at the far back corner, playing cards and drinking coffee. She settled herself in a comfy booth by the wall, grabbing a menu.

“Can I get you somethin’ to drink, hon?” the waitress asked, and she smiled up at her.

“Yeah, a glass of whatever you’ve got on tap, please.”

“You got it, be right back to take your order. I’m Molly, by the way, if you need something.” It was a lovely place, simple, homey and welcoming. Small town friendly, which was always pleasant - as long as you weren’t from that small town so they didn’t know all your business. Sometimes being an anonymous stranger was really nice.

Molly came back with a frosted mug brim-full of beer, and she smiled. You don’t get those everywhere. “Awesome, thanks!”

“You ready to order?” the woman asked, brushing a graying lock of hair that had escaped her ponytail away from her face.

“Yeah, I think I’ll have a bacon cheeseburger and fries,” she said, and her stomach grumbled as she spoke. Things had been in such an uproar lately, she had barely been eating.

“Now, there’s a woman with good taste!” Jordan felt her heartbeat stop for a second, and she looked up into Dean’s smiling face, those stunning green eyes crinkling at the corners. “Molly, can I get the same, and a beer?” he asked, giving the older woman his full attention.

“You got it, Dean,” the waitress answered with a smile, and headed back towards the kitchen. He nodded his head towards the seat opposite Jordan’s and grinned.

“Mind if I sit? I mean, if you’re not expecting somebody...”

“No, I’m not, please sit,” she smiled back at him. “It’ll be nice to have somebody to talk to besides myself.”

He took a seat, an amused smirk on his face. “Well, I don’t want to interrupt your conversation.”

“It’s okay. Mostly waxing poetic about the frosted mug of beer,” she grinned back.

“Right? Gotta love that.” He looked up at the waitress as his beer appeared in front of him. “Molly, you’re a doll.”

“Oh, stop. Keep tellin’ you, I’m married,” she teased, turning to go. “And I’m too old for you.”

“Love a woman with experience,” he fired back, and she flapped a hand at him, blushing.

“You are a dangerous man. You watch out for that one, honey,” Molly aimed her parting remarks at Jordan and headed back to the kitchen.

“How long have you known her?” Jordan asked, raising her mug to her lips.

“Just met her yesterday. Why?”

Jordan stared back at him in surprise. “Really? Wow, you’ve got a way with people.”

“A friend of mine told me once that I just like to flirt. She might be right.”

Jordan laughed. “She might be.” His phone went off just then, and he grabbed it off the table.

“My brother. Be right back,” he smiled, swiping the screen as he rose to his feet and headed for the door. “Hey, Sammy,” she heard him say as he went outside.

She ordered them each another beer when Molly came over to check, and she had just taken a drink, focused on reading a message on her phone, when a rough hand landed on her shoulder. “Okay, Jordan. Time to come home.”

She froze, refusing to look up at him. “Darrel. How did you find me?”

“Wasn’t hard. I knew which way you were headed. Now, you’re gonna get up from that seat and come home with me, we have a lot to talk about.”

“We don’t have anything left to talk about, but I’m not making a scene in here. So let’s just go outside and get this over with,” she ground out quietly between clenched teeth. She stood up and winced a little at the brutal grip on her arm, biding her time until they left the bar.

“Miss? You okay?” Molly asked with a frown as they headed for the door, and Jordan nodded.

“I’m fine, Molly. Don’t worry.”

“Just keep movin’,”Darrel whispered behind her. They shoved their way through the door, and took several steps away from the building before Jordan began to struggle. She cried out as he shifted his hold, twisting her arm behind her back viciously. “None of your shit, now. Just move.”

“Hey, Darrel!” Dean’s voice rang out loud and clear behind them, and Jordan tensed at the sound.

Darrel gave her arm another tug as he turned them both around to face Dean. “Fucker!” she spat, her teeth clenched.

“You okay, Jordan?” Dean asked, and she looked into his eyes.

“I’m sure I will be shortly.” Dean nodded, a wicked little smirk curving his lips.

“Who the hell are you?” Darrel demanded. “Who is this clown?” he growled into Jordan’s ear, and she jerked her head away.

“So, Darrel, tell me – is this usually the way you get women to go with you? Because I’m pretty sure she’s gonna cut off your balls first chance she gets.” He frowned a little, then continued. “Wait, that would assume you have balls, which is pretty unlikely, I’d guess.”

Darrel drew in a breath to respond, distracted for the moment, and Jordan jammed her free arm back, driving her elbow into his ribs, then stomped down hard on his instep. Darrel loosened his grip on her, groaning in pain, and she jerked herself free from his grasp, running towards Dean.

“Good girl,” he said, sweeping his arm out to place her behind him. “Well, Darrel. Looks like we have a situation here.”

Darrel pulled a knife from his back pocket, flipping it open. “Yeah. Bad one for you, asshole. You’re not armed.”

Dean nodded in agreement. “You’ve got a point there. So, whatcha waitin’ for, Darrel?” He said the man’s name with utter contempt, muttering, “Go inside” to Jordan as he headed towards the coward. “Bring it on.”

Jordan couldn’t force her feet to follow his command, staring in horror and shouting Dean’s name as he approached Darrel. There was a flurry of movement, punches thrown and Darrel’s swing with the blade blocked, his arm twisted violently until the weapon hit the ground with a thud, followed a few seconds later by Darrel, bruised and bleeding. Dean bent to pick up the knife, flipping it in his hand and standing over the fallen man with a snarl on his lips.

“I suggest you get the fuck outta here before I finish kicking your ass. And you forget about her. Forget her name. Forget you ever knew her. You hear me?”

Darrel scooted away, scrambling to his feet at a safer distance. “Jordan, this ain’t over!” he yelled defiantly.

“What did I just say to you?!” Dean bellowed, moving quickly in his direction, and Darrel’s eyes widened as he turned to run. “That’s right, you fucking coward, get your ass away from here.” Dean watched the man run until he was out of sight, then turned quickly, striding back to Jordan’s side. “Did he hurt you? Are you all right?”

She nodded, her face pale, weaving a little as her knees gave way. Dean put an arm around her waist, leading her to the bench beside the door and sitting her down. Molly stuck her head out the door, concern on her face. “Is she all right?”

“Yeah, just a little shaky. Hey, Molly – can we get those burgers to go?”

“Of course, give me just a sec, hon. Just wait right there.”

Dean hunkered down in front of Jordan, taking hold of her cold hand. “Hey, Jordan? Look at me, sweetheart.” She finally raised her eyes, and he gave her a proud little smile. “You did great. Just exactly what I was hoping you’d do.” Molly came out the door just then, handing their food to Dean, and reaching over to put her hand on Jordan’s.

“Glad you’re okay. Both of you.” With a pat to her hand and a little squeeze to Dean’s shoulder, she turned and went back inside.

“Okay, think you can make it back to your room? Come on, I gotcha,” Dean encouraged, an arm around her waist, the food and Darrel’s knife in the other hand. “Man, can’t wait to dig in. Molly makes a mean bacon cheeseburger.” He kept talking, all the way back to the motel, taking Jordan’s key card and letting them both in before leading her to a chair. “I’m going to my room to grab something, I’ll be right back. Okay?” She nodded vacantly, staring down at her hands.

She looked up, eyes wide as she heard someone at the door a couple of moments later, but Dean called out. “It’s just me, Jordan, comin’ back in, okay?” He came in, closed and dead-bolted the door behind him, and set a bottle of whiskey on the table as he walked by. Soon he was back, two coffee mugs from the little kitchenette in his hand. He poured a generous splash of the amber liquid into the cup and scooted it over towards Jordan. “Drink that, it’ll help.” She nodded, taking the cup in hand and tipping it steadily back, letting the liquor burn its way down her throat. She shuddered a little, then held it out for more.

“One more, maybe,” she said, and he tipped the bottle again. She downed the second shot, then blew out a shaky breath.

“Better?”

She looked at him, the color beginning to come back into her cheeks. “Yeah. I think so. Dean, I don’t know what to say...”

“You don’t have to say anything. Just eat. You can talk later.” He grinned, shoving her food at her, and she dug in gratefully.

She moaned, her eyes closing. “This is amazing!” Dean smiled, watching her wolf that bite down and go after another. She stopped, suddenly looking alarmed. “Wait, I didn’t even pay!”

“Taken care of, don’t worry about it.”

“So it’s not enough that you chase off my asshole ex, now you’re buying me dinner? Where have you been all my life?” she teased, taking another bite, and then blushing at her own words. “Wow - maybe the whiskey’s kicking in.”

Dean laughed softly as he continued eating. “Good. Maybe you can relax a little.” He turned on the TV, surfing until he found an old sitcom, and they watched as they finished their meal. When the credits rolled, Dean stood up, gathering the trash and tossing it before turning back to smile at her. “So – I should get out of here, let you get some rest.”

“Do you have to leave?” She swallowed hard, blushing. He stared back at her, not sure how to respond, and she dropped her gaze to the floor. “I’m sorry, you’ve done too much for me already, I don’t blame you for wanting to get the hell away, like you need...”

“Hey.” He spoke softly to stop her rambling, and she looked up at him, biting nervously at her lip. “I just thought after what you’d been through you should get some rest.” She nodded silently, wishing the floor would open up and swallow her, and he spoke again, concern in his eyes. “Are you afraid he’ll come back, Jordan?”

“I don’t know. I hope not.” She swallowed hard, fighting not to cry in front of him.

“Listen, I’ve got two beds in my room, you’re welcome to come down there and stay if you want.”

“No, no… I’m just being crazy. I’m sure he’s gone. You probably scared him all the way back home.” She tried to sound like she was laughing it off, but her performance wasn’t convincing even her. “Really, Dean, thank you. I appreciate it. But I don’t want to be any more of a pain than I already have been.” She picked up her phone, avoiding eye contact, and looked up in surprise when he took hold of it, pulling it gently from her grasp.

He typed something into it, then handed it back. “There, I put my number in. If you get scared, or if you need anything, call me. No matter what time it is. Okay?”

Her eyes filled with tears. “Thank you.”

She felt his hand on her shoulder. “Get some sleep, sweetheart. How about I pick you up for breakfast in the morning?”

She nodded, looking steadily at the table top as he gave her shoulder a squeeze and headed out the door. As soon as the latch clicked shut, she buried her head in her arms and burst into tears.

She climbed into bed a little later, feeling somewhat better. Dean was right, she did need to sleep. The last few weeks had been harder than she’d realized, and then with Darrel showing up… yeah, the tough girl mask she tried to present to the world had slipped a little.

She fell asleep almost as soon as she settled in, the first deep sleep she’d had in days. A loud crash from the parking lot outside her door woke her, and she sat up, groggy and disoriented, trying to get her bearings before climbing out of bed to see what had caused the noise.

Her eyes widened as she peered out the window. Her car was engulfed in flames, and she stumbled back from the window in shock, running back to the bed to grab her phone from the night stand. Her hands shaking, she dialed Dean’s number, surprised when he answered immediately, not even letting her speak.

“Jordan, stay in your room. Don’t come out unless I come and get you, understand?”

Chapter 2

#meant to be #chapter 1 #detective dean au #dean fic #dean x oc #dean x jordan

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deniigi · 3 years

Note

sorry to bother again but i am a freshman in college and i am v stressed

how did you get through it and how do I make myself not want to drop every single class i’m in every semester

how does one take more than 5 classes at a time

i am in midterm hell and i am Scared™️

oh you mean, ‘Matt, please do your actual literal job on main?’ Because this is sort of my actual literal job, friend. So don’t worry. I’ve got you.

So first thing’s first, when planning future semesters:

I would recommend against taking more than 5 classes at a time. Mathematically, it is not great for you. If you have to take more than 5, plan on doing 1-2 to during summer school. You won’t be behind. You’re fine. I swear.

Example for future class planning: For every class, look at the number of units/credits it is. That is around the number of hours that you’re gonna spend in that class a week. Now multiply that by 2. That’s about the number of hours total you’re gonna spend on that class in a week (both in class and doing homework).

That means that a 3 unit/credit class = 6 hours of work per week.

You have five of those classes. That means that you’re doing around 30hrs of school work a week. If you have six of those classes, you’re practically working a fulltime job with little to no pay and benefits.

End story: Do not take more than 5 classes a semester if you can help it.

If you can, don’t take more than 4 classes in your major per semester, either. You will die. Use electives and general education classes as your fourth or fifth class to lighten your load and give yourself something that you enjoy and know you can pass for sure. That will give you some breathing room and will help you maintain your GPA.

Coping with Overload now:

At this point in the semester, it’s a little late to be dropping classes, so what you’re going to do instead is to schedule the fuck out of your time.

You need to pick and stick to set dates/times for completing coursework and midterm projects for the next week or two. People do this in different ways, but generally speaking, people will assign projects/homework to certain days.

Example: Monday is Chemistry homework night because assignments are due on Wednesday. You only work on Chemistry on Monday. You finish the assignment and turn it in.

Tuesday is English homework day because assignments are papers and take 3 days to complete due to requiring 3 different steps: research, outlining, and writing. You do the whole researching process on Tuesday and do a basic outline. You will fill out the outline a little more on Wednesday and will then write the whole paper on Thursday so that you can turn it in then, before the Friday deadline.

On Wednesday, after you’re satisfied with your English outline, you will set that aside because Wednesdays are Math days. You will do the Math homework and/or study for 2-3 hours until your brain feels like soup. Then you will stop, do something relaxing for 30min, and then decide if you need to do more studying. If you do, repeat the study + self-care process. Go to sleep at a reasonable hour (before 2am if possible)

Do the same thing for your other 2 classes, assigning each a day and a specific task or set of tasks to complete on each day. Don’t give yourself more than 3 tasks per class/study session, because that’s how you get overwhelmed and into an anxiety spiral.

Apply self-care (breaks, snacks, drinks, music) liberally while doing assignments.

Other tips: figure out how you study.

If you study best in a group, grab some folks from your class and form a study group. If you are in STEM especially, it is expected that you will form study groups. This is how studying happens in STEM, medical, and law fields. It is nigh impossible to do all that labor on your own. Yes, I am serious. Make a study group, even if that’s you and 1 other person.

If you can find a study guide, take it to study group or block out an hour or two and do the whole thing. If you don’t have a study guide, make one yourself out of your homework/assignments and test yourself with flashcards or writing out definitions and forcing yourself to explain the different parts of cycles you learned in class.

If you are in a humanities/liberal arts major, you need to figure out if you study best by reviewing your notes, by re-listening to the lectures, by explaining concepts to others, or by writing it all out as if it was an essay.

If you need to write an essay and are stuck with where to start, reach out for help from a tutor if your school has one, or just start by doing 15 minutes of brainstorming to figure out what you feel about the topic and what evidence/ideas would work to answer it. Pick apart the prompt to see what it is truly asking you to do, write out the components of the prompt separately on a separate page and start answering those question as if they were short answers.

Then when you’ve got that, you can start noting bits of evidence to add to support your points and BAM, just like that, you’ve got an outline. Write a thesis statement at the top that addresses the Who, What, Why and How You’re Going to Prove it of your essay and you’re ready to go.

Example thesis statement: “The world represented in Oh God, How do I Study by Matt Deniigiq includes references to time management, course planning, and big-picture thinking to emphasize the broader theme that this one shit semester is not going to destroy student’s lives. This is evident in the droll humor used throughout the piece and the fact that the author keeps halting in paragraphs to answer emails from frazzled students.”

**yes, your thesis can be 2 sentences long. It’s allowed, I promise.

Know that these 5 classes will not end your life.

Honestly, like, speaking as someone who does this for a living, at public schools anything higher than a C is grand. It’s not usually required for you to list your GPA on job apps later on (I’ve never been asked). No one actually cares about your GPA in social situations.

As long as my students have higher than Cs in their classes and they aren’t like, nursing students, I’m cool with their progress, so give yourself a break if you can.

Also know that getting a low grade in 1 class as a freshmen doesn’t actually fuck up your GPA as bad as you think it will. Like, there’s a lot of complicated shit around this that I could go into, but generally speaking, if you fail one class (and I mean FAIL-fail it. Fs and D-s. None of this ‘UwU I got a C so I failed’), then by the time you’re a junior or a senior, if you haven’t failed additional shit, that F/D- is barely going to shift your GPA.

Like, we’re talking .1 shifts around then. Maybe a .3 shift if you’re at the end of your sophomore year. That’s the diff between a 2.5 and a 2.4. Or a 3.3 and a 3.0. You can make that up almost entirely by taking another round of classes and getting As and Bs (again, the mechanics are complicated, so you’re just gonna have to take my word here).

So yeah, shoot for Cs or higher and know that these classes aren’t the end-all be-alls of your lives.

(For context, if I get a student with a 3.0 or higher, I’m fucking ELATED. I’m not even joking. Y’all will be fine.)

Start with these tips and get back to me if you want something more specific. I do this all day, every day.

#study skills #long post #I am literally answering 10+ email long chains right now of students asking similar questions

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morganaspendragonss · 3 years

Note

hey holly! could i request 54 from the whump list + tarlos 💗

thank you for the prompt jamie! it was my pleasure to write it, i hope you’ve had a very happy birthday and that the next year brings only good things for you!

54 - "I’m fine.” “No you’re not, you’re losing a lot of blood.” (from this list)

ao3 | 1.5k

TK wakes up in pieces.

He notices the pain before anything else, his side feeling like it’s on fire and his head splitting open. It’s dark when he manages to crack his eyes open; he can just barely make out the vague silhouettes of trees surrounding the car. TK frowns, immediately regretting the action as pain lances through his head, and tries to remember what happened.

He’d been with Carlos. They were on their way back from an impromptu vacation after two weeks of opposing shifts led to TK cashing in some time off to spend the weekend together. There’d been this light, and that Carlos had…

Carlos!

TK’s eyes fly open, ignoring the pain as he whips his head to the left, searching for his boyfriend. His heart drops when he sees him - Carlos is pinned against his seat, a large branch stretching across his chest, and there’s glass embedded in his arms. Lower, TK can see a dark stain on Carlos’s jeans, worryingly close to his femoral, and the dash is pressed hard against his legs.

TK leans over as far as he can without jostling his own injuries too much and presses his fingers to Carlos’s throat, breathing out a shaky sigh of relief when he feels a pulse.

“Carlos,” he says, coughing lightly. “Hey, Carlos.”

There’s a tense few seconds of silence before Carlos moans, his eyelids fluttering weakly. “TK?”

“Yeah, it’s me. How are you feeling?”

“Hurts.”

TK forces a chuckle. “I bet it does, babe. Can you be more specific?”

“Chest,” Carlos gasps, tight lines of pain on his face. “Legs.”

“Can you move your arms at all?”

Carlos shakes his head no, and TK sucks in a sharp breath. This just got a whole lot harder; if Carlos can’t reach that wound on his leg, then he’s going to have to deal with them both, and TK doesn’t know how long he can do that for.

“Okay,” he says, trying to keep his tone light for Carlos’s sake. “Your leg is bleeding, it’s too dark for me to tell, but I’m worried it’s nicked something, so I’m just going to put some pressure on it.” He stretches his arms out, the distance uncomfortable but manageable, and covers the wound with both his hands, pressing down hard. Carlos lets out a pained cry and TK winces. “Sorry, sorry.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You’re losing a lot of blood.”

Carlos’s eyes squint open, a weak glare forming before his expression turns to alarm when his gaze lands on TK’s face. “And you have a head wound,” he counters. “Anything else you neglected to mention?”

TK hesitates, thinking of the wound in his side that he’s yet to check himself, then shakes his head. “I’m fine.”

Carlos scoffs, but he doesn’t get a chance to argue back as the car chooses that moment to shift.

TK can’t suppress the cry that escapes his lips at the movement, something ripping from his body. Blood starts to freely gush from the wound, soaking his shirt; he grits his teeth against the pain, willing himself to stay conscious. Fortunately - or perhaps not so - Carlos is too out of it to notice his predicament, and TK wants to keep it that way. He increases the pressure against Carlos’s tight with his left hand, slowly moving his right to his own side. He tries to press down as hard as he can, but it’s difficult to split his strength, all he has left focused on keeping Carlos alive.

“Carlos,” he grits out. “Carlos!”

He gets no answer save for a worrying wheeze, and one look at his boyfriend’s face confirmed all of TK’s fears. Carlos has passed out, his skin appearing deathly pale ieven in the darkness of the car, and the branch is now flush against his chest, stopping him from breathing properly. TK wants to check his pulse, but doing so would mean moving his hand from his own wound; besides which, his limbs aren’t cooperating anymore, his body growing heavier as his eyelids start to droop.

He’s on the verge of giving up when voices reach him, growing closer with each passing second.

“Sir, can you- Shit. TK?”

“Hey Marjan,” TK groans. He tries to look over at her, but the motion turns his vision to static, threatening his tenuous hold on consciousness.

Marjan curses again. “Paul, it’s TK and Carlos!” she calls. Noise comes from the opposite side of the car as someone else arrives, followed by more swearing.

“Hang in there, brother,” Paul says, face grim.

“Not going anywhere,” TK mumbles. He blinks hard and tries to focus on Marjan’s face, catching her eye. “Y’need to get Carlos out first.”

“We’re gonna get you both out, TK.”

“Carlos first,” he insists. “He’s hurt. Promise me, Marj.”

“You’re hurt too,” she says softly, glancing around anxiously - presumably looking for the rest of the team.

“Him more than me.” TK attempts a grin, though he’s not sure it works. “Paramedic, remember?”

If Marjan says anything in response, TK doesn’t catch it, because the car shifts again and the world goes dark.

The next time he wakes, it’s to the sound of machines beeping and a dull ache spreading through his entire body. TK twitches his fingers, feeling another hand tighten around his, and hope lights up his chest for a brief second.

“Carlos?” he asks, heart sinking when the other person sighs in a way that is distinctly un-Carlos like.

“He’s okay, son,” his dad says, smoothing TK’s hair back. “You both are.”

TK forces his eyes open, the bright lights sending a lightning rod of pain through his head, but he breathes through it, turning to look at his dad. “What happened?”

His dad grimaces, looking worn as he shifts in his chair. “You were involved in a car accident,” he explains, tears gleaming in his eyes. “We’re not sure how exactly, but you rolled off the road down an embankment, which was still pretty muddy from all that rain this weekend. It took a long time to extract you both because we were afraid of destabilising the car and hurting you more.”

He takes a breath, squeezing TK’s hand hard. “We got Carlos out first at your insistence, so I’m told. He lost a lot of blood, but he’s awake and talking now.”

TK looks up at his dad with wide eyes, daring to hope. “He’s okay?”

“Some broken ribs, a fractured knee, a few minor scratches, and there’s the gash on his leg, but, yeah, he’s okay.” He smiles, a somewhat watery affair, before quickly growing sombre. “You, on the other hand, neglected to tell us just how bad that side was. You crashed in the ambulance, scared us half to death. You’re lucky you got here when you did - both of you are.”

A few tears slip down his cheeks and TK’s heart aches with guilt. “I’m sorry,” he says, nervously picking at the bedsheets. “I was just worried about him; I honestly didn’t realise it was that bad.”

His dad sighs. “I know, son.”

TK bites his lip, preparing himself for a fight as he gears up to ask his next question. “Can I see him?”

“TK -”

“Please, Dad. I need to see him.”

He turns a pleading gaze on his dad, who just smiles sympathetically, a hand rubbing his arm. “TK, neither of you are up to be moved right now. But, I do have another idea.”

He pulls out his phone, tapping through it before handing it over to TK, who frowns at the display.

“Why are you facetiming Paul?”

“You’ll see.”

TK huffs, but doesn’t press. It’s agony waiting for the call to connect, but his breath catches in his throat when it does.

Because Carlos is staring back at him, and he’s okay.

“Carlos,” he breathes, desperately wishing he could reach through the screen to touch him.

“Hey babe,” Carlos says tiredly. “I’m glad you’re awake.”

TK nods his agreement, scanning what he can see of Carlos for injuries. He’s bruised and battered, as TK is sure he himself is, but he’s alive, and that means the world right now. Carlos smiles at him, and TK can’t help but smile back, relief exploding in his chest.

“Man, how do y’all even do that?” Paul’s voice comes from off-camera, though TK can just imagine the look on his face right now. “You’re not even in the same room and I still feel like an intruder.”

“You can leave if it makes you uncomfortable,” Carlos says, gaze briefly going to where Paul presumably is before snapping back to TK. He winks, grinning. “We’ll probably be a while.”

TK laughs, Carlos too, and even Paul and his dad join in eventually. He settles on the pillows, letting his eyes briefly drift closed before looking back at his boyfriend, love sitting warm in his heart.

Yeah.

They’ll be okay.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #lone star #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #userjillian #userkimmy #tuserpaige #tuserjenny #reyeslonestartag #officereyes

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therealvalkyrie · 3 years

Text

Red Cloak, Silver Dagger

Pairing/setting: Levi Ackerman x Female!Reader, canonverse, established relationship, set just prior to the Battle for Trost arc.

Summary: When you’re caught nearly weaponless in the woods, can you talk your way out of a mugging?

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: canon typical violence, gun violence, blood, death, knife violence, profanity, angst with a tidbit of fluff at the end

AN: This morning I woke up and chose ~angst~ so that’s what y’all are getting:) I will be the first to admit that I wrote this while soaking in the bath in the notes app of my phone well into the evening. The only editing it’s seen is when I transcribed it to a google doc and then one more pass at 1am. So, there may be errors ahead. Either way, I hope you enjoy, and as always my dms/inbox are open if you have questions/suggestions/fun facts about baluga whales! i’m off to sleeb:) ~valkyrie

The man in front of you is clearly scared shitless: hand trembling, face blotchy with red, mouth set in a grimace meant to be intimidating. It would almost be comical, a caricature of terror, were it not for the shotgun.

He heaves two shallow, shoulder-raising breaths before speaking again.

“I said get down on the ground!”

Just like the first time he said it, you do no such thing. Your hands remain held up in surrender, placating and gentle, and you remain where you are, but your calm eyes never leave his.

“Sir, I’m certain we can work this out without needing to dirty ourselves, don’t you agree?” Your voice is even, if a little breathy, and you do your best to sound agreeable. “Is there something I may help you with?”

Your breath clouds out from your mouth as you speak. It’s the dead of winter (colder than a witch’s left tit, as your grandma would say) and you can feel the frigid air begin to creep its way in between the folds of your scarf and cloak. The snow has melted through the hole in your right boot in a similar fashion, soaking the wool sock and numbing your pinky toe.

You’re not scared of this man, you decide, for all his gun-wielding and yelling. He looks like a farmer type, complete with fur lined coat and sturdy boots. Probably just down on his luck, pushed to robbing people in the woods to make ends meet. You’re not scared of him, you decide, even as the cold air catches in your constricting throat and your heart thuds against your ribs.

He’s probably only targeted you because you look so benign today. It is your day off, after all, and you’re wearing civilian clothing, red wool traveling cloak draped over you. Even your hair is down today rather than in a practical bun. Admittedly, you look downright innocent.

And to a certain extent, you are. Without your ODM gear and swords, your training means nothing. The only weapon you have is a dagger tucked into your boot, but even that is useless if you can’t reach for it without getting shot. You’ll have to talk your way out.

The man snorts, a measure of contempt twisting his expression. “The only way you can help me, girly, is by getting on the ground and handing over your money purse.”

You smile sympathetically. “Oh, then I’m afraid I actually can’t help you, sir. I don’t have any money, and I find myself rather averse to laying in a foot of snow.”

“Ha, what a load of shit. You townies always have valuables on you.” His contemptuous sneer solidifies, and he looks at you down the barrel of the shotgun with slightly more confidence.

“Ah, well I’m not a townie, you see.” You hope this is the right tack to take, implying living at the military base through the other side of the woods. It’s a much more serious crime to murder a Survey Corps soldier than a girl who took the wrong path through the woods home. You just hope he possesses the critical thinking skills to come to that same conclusion.

You can see the gears turning for a moment before a gruff, “What do you mean you don’t live in town? You’re not a farmer’s daughter, I’d’ve recognized you.”

The short laugh bubbles out of your lungs before you can tamp it down. “No, I’m not a farmer’s daughter.” Wish I was, right now. “I’m a soldier on the base.”

At this, he pales and starts shaking again. He readjusts his stance in the snow, tip of the shotgun wavering, as the panic starts to set in again.

“Shit,” he says, almost to himself, and shifts again.

“Shit,” you agree. “But I promise you, I won’t tell if you don’t. If you let me go home right now.”

He considers for a moment, gears seemingly hand-cranked at the rate they’re going, then decides you’re a liar.

“Liar,” he says. “Who’s to say you won’t report this directly to your superiors? Who’s to say you’re tellin’ the truth?”

Sweat begins to gather beneath your scarf despite the cold, beads of it slipping down the back of your neck. This is not going as intended.

“I promise you, I have no quarrel with you. Just let me go.” Your voice thins out, nearly pleading, with the last phrase. I’m not gonna die today, in some shitty forest in the shitty snow. I don’t wanna die today.

What would Levi say about losing your cool like this?

He doesn’t seem to hear you, though, as his lips are moving, eyes narrowed and locked on yours. Occasional phrases register: “...can’t be caught…”; “...stupid girl...?”; “...fuckin’ Marcy askin’ me…”.

You lick your chapped lips and try again.

“Please,” your voice cracks on the dry air this time. “Just let me go. I don’t have anything of value, I won’t tell my superiors, please.” It ends on an unexpected sob and you know that you’ve lost any aura of cool detachment you may have had.

Suddenly you’re talking over each other, voices panicked and raised. Yours threaded with fear, his with near mania.

“Stupid girl, you’ll just report-”

“I promise I won’t, I-”

“-can’t afford a charge-”

“-just want to go home-”

“-Marcy would have my head-”

“Please, won’t you just listen-”

“-CAN’T TRUST A GODDAMNED BITCH-”

“I’M NOT A THREAT TO YOU-”

“WON’T YOU SHUT UP!”

The shot rings off the trees and through your ears, a crack of gunpowder that sends crows flying from a nearby beech tree.

In the next split second, you feel the punching pressure in your abdomen and you double over, clutching hands to your stomach. You try to maintain footing, but the snow has other plans, catching under your heels until you land flat on your back.

Your stomach feels like it’s on fire, searing with white-hot pain. It feels like a brand has been shoved into your intestines and left there to burn away your body.

Not a brand, a bullet, you realize when you stretch blood-drenched fingers up towards the sky. You can’t feel them, but you know they’re yours because the gloves had been a gift from Levi last year. Soft hide leather, lined with fur. At least two months’ salary, now stained with crimson.

A high-pitched keening escapes your mouth, though you don’t know how, because it feels like all the air left your body when you fell. Your chest is tight, breathing ragged, but the sharp air brings clarity with it.

Hands suddenly scramble, gathering as much fabric as possible to press to the wound. A cry punches out of you at the renewed pain the pressure brings, but you grit your teeth through it and push up to sitting. Adrenaline is the only thing keeping you alive at this point, driving you to reach with one hand to grab your dagger from your boot.

You look up, now, towards the farmer. He’s trudging through the snow towards you now, expression half horrified, half determined, still gripping his gun. He seems determined to see your death through to the end, so you make a split-second decision.

It’s only a quick shift of your grip on the dagger, a calculated moment of aim, and a practiced wrist-flicking throw before he stops dead in his tracks. The blade is lodged in his neck, blood spurting from his carotid artery in bursts along with his pulse. One beat, another, and he’s fallen to his knees, gun slipping from his grasp. Finally, decisively, permanently, his body thuds face down in the snow.

“Perfect,” you whisper, and smile serenely, before following suit.

Levi and the rest of his squad watch in horror as your body slumps to the ground. It’s quite the picture: blood staining pristine snow around two bodies in the middle of scenic woods, your red cloak spread around you in perfect drama.

They had only caught the tail end of the altercation, riding around the corner just in time to see your impeccable dagger throw. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Levi is damn impressed with the skill of it.

A horrified sound escapes his lungs, and then he’s urging his horse forward towards you. You look deathly ashen against your cloak, one hand tangled loosely in it on your stomach, the other dropped unceremoniously at your side.

Levi slides smoothly from the saddle in favor of running the last few steps to your side before crashing down on his knees to hover over you. Eld and Petra are directly on his heels, the latter shouting something back to the other two. Her voice sounds tinny and distant to his ears as he puts pressure on your abdomen.

Please don’t be dead, don’t be dead, don’t be dead, is caught on a loop in his mind. He leans his ear over your face and catches the faintest touch of hot breath. Not dead yet, not dead yet, not dead yet.

Eld is on your other side, still as a statue with two fingers pressed to your neck.

“There’s a pulse,” he announces, and Petra, who’s anxiously leaned over the trio on the ground, takes a shuddering breath of relief.

“Gunther’s gone back to tell the surgeon to get ready,” she tells Levi. “We need to get her back.”

Levi nods numbly, then swings his own cloak off of his shoulders to help stem the blood.

“Eld,” he directs in a deceivingly steady voice. “You help me get her on my horse.”

The blond nods, maneuvering to scoop you up in his arms.

“One, two, three.” He lifts you with a grunt, still on his knees, then stands while allowing Levi to keep continuous pressure on the wound.

You groan and shift weakly in Eld’s arms, prompting Levi to lean down and murmur directly in your ear.

“I know, my love, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s only for now. Stay with me, darling, it’ll be over soon,” he practically coos as your lashes flutter and face twists in pain.

Oluo brings forward Levi’s horse and the three men manage to wrangle you up into the saddle. Levi settles behind you, one hand gripping the reins and the other firmly around your middle.

With a whinny, his horse wheels around and he’s riding as fast as he dares back to base.

Not dead yet, not yet, not yet.

The first night after surgery, Levi stations himself in a chair by your infirmary bed. He practically growls at the first nurse who suggests that visiting hours are over, who scuttles away in alarm but nevertheless leaves him in peace. He passes the time by staring at the candle diminishing on your bedside table and mentally berating himself for letting you go to town alone.

Ha, as if she wouldn’t’ve gone anyway.

You look so fragile in the candlelight that Levi is afraid you’ll start melting away like mist if he tries to touch you. Despite this, he finds himself periodically reaching for your wrist, the steady pulse underneath his fingertips assuring him that you’re real.

The first day after surgery, the whole squad comes to visit, bringing tea and pulling up chairs around your bed to keep vigil with their captain. Hardly a word is said between them, but Petra sniffles occasionally and Gunther leans elbows on his knees and stares resolutely at your right hand.

Oluo tries once, “Did you see that knife throw? Fuckin’ impressive.”

They all murmur in assent as Levi feels the side of his mouth quirk up in a sort of melancholy pride.

Fuckin’ impressive indeed.

The second night after your surgery, Levi can feel himself beginning to split at the seams. When the nurse finally blows out all the lamps and leaves him with a sympathetic look over her shoulder, he dares to crawl into bed with you, lying on his side a careful few inches away.

At first he just stares. At the way your lips are parted in sleep, at the curve of your nose, at the delicate way your lashes lie on your cheeks.

After a while, he gently laces his fingers with yours and brings your hand to his lips, leaving soft kisses on the back. His eyes blink shut and he whispers your name against your skin.

“Come back to me. Please. Please, I- I can’t handle losing you, too.”

He falls asleep like this, breath eventually easing to match your own.

It’s in gray dawn light that you finally open your eyes, swallowing thickly against a dry throat. Slowly, you take stock of the sensations in your body. Crisp sheets against your skin, a dull blinding ache in your abdomen, a familiar warm body against your side.

Levi is stretched out beside you, clutching your left hand even in sleep. He’s always beautiful this way, features softer than he ever let them be in waking. You reach to brush his bangs out of his eyes and whisper his name like a secret into the morning.

“Levi.” The second whisper is accompanied by a finger stroking down his delicate nose. He twitches, sneezes once, then opens his eyes to meet your own.

He says your name all lovely with morning grumble, then all of a sudden he’s sitting up, worrying hands everywhere at once.

“Are you okay? Do you need water? Where does it hurt? I’ll get the doctor-”

“Levi,” you rasp, pulling him back in to focus on your face. “Water, please?”

He nods and reaches for a glass on the bedside table. You try to take it from him, but he swats your hand away before carefully tipping the glass against your lips. He only allows a few sips at a time, but lets you drink until it’s all gone and your thirst is sated.

He starts to pull away, saying, “I should go get the doctor, now,” but you gently tug him back before he can escape.

“Stay,” you murmur. “Please?”

And so he stays, curled into your side, arm delicately around your middle, as the sun breaks brightly through the windows.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #attack on titan fanfic #shingeki no kyoujin fanfic #petra ral #eld gin #gunther schultz #oluo bozado #canon typical violence #gun violence #knife violence #injury #blood #angst #fluff #angst to fluff #profanity #red cloak silver dagger #valkyrie writes

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