#what a fucking jerk! let me have the energy to live please! that's literally why I've been taking iron supplement you ass!

[toxicanonymity]

Corey and I write a fic

2.5k words | Corey x everyone 

Corey and I are writing our ongoing fic and bickering about what a mess he’s making by fucking everyone.  This is goofy AF but also pretty accurate at times. Jake & Amir AU, kind of?

-

[Rock Bottom Ch 2, , Corey watches through a window and jerks off while Michael fucks Y/N.  Michael leaves her on the floor alive]

Corey: That was hot AF.  I could watch Michael fuck Y/N all day. 

Me: Are you excited about your next scene with Michael? We just have a little transition, then-

Corey:  Wait. We’re just going to leave Y/N on the floor like that?

Me: Yeah.

Corey: Wow.

Me: Don’t look at me like that. Come on.

Corey: I just feel like we’re not done here. . . 

Corey gazes at Y/N hornily. 

Me: Oh my god, you literally JUST came. 

Corey:  Why’d you give her a name then?

Me: Is that how you think this works? If someone has a name, you need to fuck them?

Corey shrugs.

Corey: I don’t know why you’d give her a name then leave her on the floor like that and make me leave.

Me: Because this story is about you and Michael.  

Corey: I know, as it should be.  And wow, I’m suddenly getting really thirsty.

Me: No. . . 

Corey: Do you know how much of Michael's cum is inside Y/N right now?  Do you really think I’d let that go to waste? 

Me: Oh, no. 

Corey: You know the answer. It's right in here.

Corey acts like he’s going to pat his heart, then veers to his pants.

Me: I mean, it’s pretty nasty. 

Corey: We love nasty.

Me: I’m just not sure the readers–

Corey: Fuck the readers.  That’s what you’re always telling me. 

Me: Not in that w--You know what? You’re right.  You can't let his cum go to waste. FML.

_______________________________________

[Rock Bottom Ch 3: Corey gives Y/N head, ravenous for Michael’s cum]

_______________________________________

Corey: I told you that was going to be hot.

Me: I guess we’ll find out if anyone else thinks so.  Happy now? Can we go? 

Corey:  While I’m here, I should spend some time with her, talk to her about Michael and stuff. 

Me: Okay, good idea. 

Corey: And maybe one thing leads to another. . .

Me: Oh my god, seriously?? You just came twice in like 15 minutes. 

Corey: But have you come? 

Me: Y/N just came, too! Like really hard!

Corey:  Wow, thanks for clarifying - I wasn't sure about that when you said I could feel her pulsations through my nose. 

Corey rolls his eyes. 

Corey: I'm not asking about Y/N.  I’m asking about you.  

Me: *blushes* that’s actually none of your business. 

Corey: It's completely my business. I'm inside you. 

Bright red, squirming, shrinking into my shirt.

Corey:  Yeah, exactly. What about what *you* want? I know you want me to fuck her. 

Me: I want to progress the story and that won't happen if you can’t go 5 min without getting off.  

Corey: It doesn’t have to be right away.  She and I could spend the whole night together. 

Me: Look, we’ll write you a one-shot later.  We’re never going to get back to Michael  if you stop to fuck everyone you see. 

Corey: I can’t help myself.  Michael let me live, and now I’m "sluttified."

Me: Yeah, apparently so. 

Corey: And you don’t want to explore that?

Deep in thought, trying not to be manipulated. 

Me: Ugh, you know I have a soft spot for your sluttification. I know we joke about it, but I do think there's something to it. Like Michael's energy bores this hole in you and it becomes this growing void of darkness only he can fill. But naturally, you try. . .

Corey:  So let me and Y/N fill each other's voids for a night. 

Sigh.

Corey: Please, I don’t want to go home to Joan.

Me: Yeah, I guess I don’t want you to either. 

Corey: Spoiler alert, I’ll think about Michael at least a little bit when I fuck her.  I know that turns you on.

Me: . . .Alright, go ahead. 

Corey: Can I wear her clothes while I do it?

Me: Absolutely.

_______________________________________

[Rock Bottom Ch 3: Corey spends the night with Y/N]

[Rock Bottom Ch 4: Corey brings Mulaney to Michael and they kill him together in that extremely sexual scene from the movie, then Michael and Corey have their first sexual moment.] 

_______________________________________

Corey: Can Y/N come back now?

Me: What? I just gave you that hot moment with Michael and you want Y/N back? You literally just felt Michael’s hard cock against you.

Corey: Yeah and you’re the one who didn’t let him fuck me yet. 

Me: Yet? Look, I’m still not sure–

Corey: You didn’t even let me suck his dick 

Me: I promise you will have his dick in your mouth soon. I just felt like we weren’t quite there yet. 

Corey (pouting): So you’re giving me an incapacitating case of blue balls?

Me: Gross, don't say that. IDK wtf I’m doing.

Corey: She admits it! If I'm going to jerk off again, can I at least watch Michael fuck Y/N?

Me: You're not going to jerk off. Plus, you’ve already watched Michael fuck Y/N.

Corey: I've watched Michael fuck Y/N at a crime scene. But have I watched them surrounded by skeletons?? Have we even acknowledged Michael as a cannibal?

Me: Ugh, I would really like to make it through at least one chapter without you jerking off. If at all possible.  

Corey:  Fine, but I can still watch them, right? Maybe I’m trying not to be seen this time, so it’s kinda different? Dangerous?

Me: You want to watch them without jerking off? . . . Are you cool with coming in your pants?

Corey: Always. Come on, you know this. 

_______________________________________

[Rock Bottom Ch 4 : Corey secretly watches Michael fuck Y/N, then leaves on his motorcycle]

_______________________________________

Me: Where are you going? 

Corey: To fuck Allyson.

Rubbing my temples. 

Me: This is too much.

Corey: Michael and Y/N are busy.

Me: So? You JUST came!  You don't need to be fucking someone every second. 

Corey: You're the one who wants to weave in and out of canon.  You do realize Allyson is like the main character other than me.  

Me: Yes, and that's boring.  If we skip it, you'll get back to Michael sooner. . . 

Corey: But don't you want me to have my bi panic first, like, "IDK what's happening to me??”

Me: Ugh, fine. But this is getting so out of control that we have to acknowledge it.  You’re going to have to get introspective on the ride there, and I don't like that.  

Corey: It’ll take like two paragraphs.  I can be introspective, I'm not some himbo.

Me: You're a simp for Michael. It's not supposed to be that complicated.

Corey: It's not that complicated. 

Me: It's complicated because of how you act about Allyson. 

Corey:  I mean, for all you know, I’m just trying to take her from Laurie. 

Me: Yeah, I don’t think it’s that simple.  Like, Allyson was the first person to accept you, and, Jesus, do you have to be so pathetic?

Corey:  Ouch.  

_______________________________________

Me: Sorry, I didn’t mean that.  But when you insist on getting off every 5 min, especially when you have all these feelings, it's a mess and very time consuming for me. 

Corey: I thought you liked spending time with me.

Me: I do. I just don't want it to always be sexual.

Corey (smugly): Okay we both know that's not true.

Me (blushing): I mean, not when we're trying to work. Don’t you want us to give people, like, a little more than sex? Don’t you want to explore the complexities of your relationship with Michael?

Corey's eyes darken and his chest begins to rise and fall.  He wets his lips as he looks me up and down, then looks down at himself. 

Me (composing myself): Can you not??

Corey: Are you sure? Because we could take a break instead of dealing with all my pathetic feelings. 

Me: You're not pathetic.  You are making a mess though, and that makes it hard.

Corey: You're telling me. 

Corey looks down at himself again 

Me:  Yeah I'm not going to look, okay? 

_______________________________________

Corey (with an air of smugness): You know, if it's that much of a mess, Maybe you never should have given me Y/N.

Corey shrugs condescendingly.

Me: Ya think?? I didn't give you her, BTW. I gave her to Michael, then you INSISTED on sharing her. 

Corey: You didn't have to make me feel anything for her, though. You were projecting. 

Me: Whoa, out of line. You have a unique shared experience of being left alive by Michael. That’s kind of special.  Also, are you kidding? You're totally the type to get attached that quickly.

Corey: And you're not?

Me: Stop. 

_______________________________________

Corey starts cracking up laughing. 

Corey: Holy shit, just imagining you in my situation. And Michael leaves a hot guy Y/N on the floor.  There’s no WAY you could resist.  You think you’d leave without fucking him?  No way dude.  Oh my god, I’m dying to see you sluttified.  God, what a mess.  I mean, super hot, but -

Me: How are you so sure I'd want a hot guy Y/N?

Corey: Oh come on, we both know you love cock.  Plus, I'm a. . .

Me: Oh my god.  Are you trying to make yourself into a self-insert again? 

Corey: Whaaat? No. . . It’s really not a bad idea, though.  You know, there are a lot of male readers who would love to be me and fuck Michael.  

Me: Who is even the third person in that scenario? 

Corey: There was never supposed to be a third person, remember?  You fucked up by giving a victim a name.  And naming her Y/N, no less. Lmaoooo. As if that wouldn’t take on a life of its own. 

Me: Honestly, I can’t even remember if there was supposed to be–

Corey: WAIT! Can we do an AU where Michael leaves a reader alive and the reader is following Michael around, and I'm the one Michael fucks and leaves on the floor, and reader comes in and sucks my dick?

Me: I mean, if that reader is using your same logic, they wouldn’t be sucking your dick, they’d be eating your ass.  Assuming that’s where Michael’s cum is.  

Corey is salivating. 

Me: I’m just not sure readers want-

Corey: Fuck the readers! Come on, you know we’ve got something here.  

Me: Jesus Christ. 

Sighs, opens google docs, types a note, closes it. 

Me: Okay, can you let me think now? 

_______________________________________

Me: I can't believe I'm saying this, but if you fuck Allyson, I think you need to have a wet dream about Michael, too. 

Corey: HELL YEAH.  Even though I "just came" with Allyson?

Me: Shut up. 

Corey: So, in the dream, can Michael fuck me?

Me: Oh yeah, he has to fuck you. 

Corey: Wait. What's the catch? 

Me (uncomfortable): Well, first, in the dream, you’re going to have to see Joan. 

Corey: Oh my god, what the fuck? Why??

Me: So Michael can kill her then give you the fatherly embrace you've always longed for. 

Corey sighs. 

Corey: Fine. 

Corey's eyes well up in tears.

Me: Hey, come here.  It's okay. It's okay.  You're finally about to get railed. 

_______________________________________

[Rock Bottom Ch 5: Corey fucks Allyson, then Michael fucks him in a dream. Corey kills the Dr. and Michael kills the nurse. Corey sucks Michael’s cock.] 

Corey: How long are you going to pace around this bed staring at us?  I really don't care which hole I get, just stick me in one. 

_______________________________________

The MMF Threesome

Me: Thanks for being a team player but it's the composition of the visual, ok? I wanted you guys in the Mulaney pose but that puts you in Y/N's ass unless we flip her back over and I don't like all the flipping. 

Corey: why don't you want me in Y/N's ass?

Me: For one, IDK if you're done with her other hole for the day. Michael will just peace out so that's a non-factor for him. 

Corey: Oh my god, you're worried about infections?  If you don't finish this scene soon, I'm just going to come on her back. 

_______________________________________

Corey: Why is the Mulaney pose important to you?��

Me: Because it was groundbreaking cinema? 

Corey: You could have written it both ways by now and just chosen whichever worked best. 

Me: that's actually a good point.

_______________________________________

Corey: Are you positioning us on Magic Poser in the middle of chick-fil-a? 

Me: . . . 

Corey: Whoa, who's the guy? Why are you showing him? 

Me: my partner, because I don't have a dick and I need to know the physical feasibility of a position I couldn't find online 

Corey: He's hot

Mee: Yeah, he wouldn't, sorry

Corey: Your loss

_______________________________________

Corey: If you're getting caught up in what you want, just pretend it's two of me instead of me and Michael. 

Me:  Lol how would that help?

Corey: You don't want Michael so you'll just stick him wherever you want me less.

Me: LooolI I don't want Michael?

Corey:  We never do anything that's just Michael. I'm always in the scene. Coincidence? 

Me: No, it's not a coincidence lmao it's your POV. You have stories without him, he has ones without you. 

Corey: What? Why don't I get to help write Michael? Wait. Does he help? Does he speak? 

Me: No, he doesn't speak. 

Corey: Why don't you get him over here, ask him what he wants to do, and he can show us?   

Me: There's no one for him to kill here

Corey: He can kill Y/N, get her over here too. 

Me: Why are you trying to kill off Y/N? You like Y/N

Corey: You give me a new one like every other day, and you don't let me play with more than one at a time, so what's the point in keeping all of them alive?  

Me: You have a point, but no, definitely not 

Corey: You just don't wanna know what she looks like. 

_______________________________________

[Rock Bottom Ch 6: Michael gets her ass]

_______________________________________

Corey: It's actually kind of homophobic that you aren't putting him in MY ass 

Me: Was it homophobic when I put his cock in your mouth?

Corey: Ok sorry. But I'm pretty sure he wants it so just try it and delete it if you don't like it 

_______________________________________

Corey, Michael, and me are at the diner and Joel Miller from The Last of Us walks up.  

Joel: So, I'm thinking. .

Me: Whoa, what are you doing here? This is a Blorbo-only zone 

*Corey looks at him smugly*

Joel: I have a hot fic idea 

Me: We're good, man 

Joel: Hear me out 

Corey (standing up): SHE SAID WE'RE GOOD

Me: *looks at Michael and nods toward Joel*

*Michael begins to escort Joel out*

Joel (yelling at an auctioneer pace on his way out): the apocalypse sluttifies everyone making them too horny to think so they're forced to get off and I'll wear that outfit you like and have a big girthy wrench 1.5K TOPS, I PROMISE 

Me: *sighs, open google docs* 

Corey: Shouldn't you post Rock Bottom Chapter 6 first? 

Me: I just posted a Michael story yesterday anyway. I'm trying not to flood the tags so much

Corey: *rolls eyes* You didn't even have to do that Michael thing.

Me:  it was a good request. you're just saying that because you weren't in it. 

Corey: ya think?

_______________________________________

#toxicanonymity writer's room #jake and amir AU #writing with adhd #writer's room #sluttified!corey cunningam #corey cunningham #corey cunningham x y/n #adhd #corey cunningham x michael myers #sluttified!corey cunningham #rock bottom fic #jake and amir #AU #toxicanonymity ☠️

[theorderofthetriad]

Me: okay, i need to do homework now

My Body: ok but what if... you took a nap instead

Me: No, i really do gotta study

My Body: but you’re feeling verrrrrrrry tired,... slep now

Me: no! study time!

My Body: good luck but im gonna make it hard to keep your eyes open.

#santagno #fuck my body i worked so hard to get clean of marijuana and also wake up in time for 9am classes #which is a TERRIBLE combination cause no mj made it fucking impossible to fall asleep when i needed too #and this is how my body repays me now that i finally have gotten this shit sorted out and have woken at 9am each day #what a fucking jerk! let me have the energy to live please! that's literally why I've been taking iron supplement you ass!

[gaiuswrites]

Original Sin | Darksaber!Din

Pairing: Dark!Din x fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ older for the love of all things holy)

Word count: 3.4k~

Summary: Things change after Grogu leaves. People change. No one is exempt.

Warnings/tags: DUB CON?¿, masturbation (m and f), inappopriate use of darksaber, sex toy (...), Dark!Din, Dom!Din, sacrilegious references, really dark shit, i am so sorry

Update: This should go without saying, but as it turns out, it’s in need of being said: every word written in this fic is my own; any likeness to any other work is coincidence, regardless of how bizarre. I don’t mean to offend anyone or raise suspicion, as I am certainly not a plagiarist (literally couldn’t be even if I tried: I am equal parts too incompetent, too busy, and too lazy to steal from someone else. Fellow writers can attest, I’m an absolute garbage reader and fall behind on almost everyone’s work. There’s an embarrassing amount I haven’t read.) Please reach out to me personally if you have any concerns. I respect everyone here like you wouldn’t believe. Sending love to you all. Be well. ✨

Notes: When I go to hell (it really is only a matter of timing, and not so much a question of if anymore), this fic will rank number one on the list of reasons why I’m sent to my eternal timeout. This... I'm twisted. I have issues. God help us. Seriously, this is basically a horror show. I bow down to the Darksaber!Din content creators who came before me, and the original artwork that inspired me to write this— thank you for lighting this (descending, dirty) path. I HAVE TAGGED A FEW PEOPLE HERE WHO MAY OR MAY NOT BE INTERESTED but really— REALLY— there’s absolutely no pressure. Cheers friends x ( gif credit: @skyshipper )

Masterlist | Read it on Ao3!

The days stretch long like morning yawns—hours passing on creaky bones, slow and congealed inside the metal womb of the Crest.

It wasn’t always this way.

They used to be filled with pitter pattering— with wily antics and vanishing acts that could baffle even the most veteran of illusionists— with prying frogs from tiny, green hands and giggling as blocks and baubles floated through the hull. Laughter. There used to be laughter here.

But that was then. The child is gone now. The Razor Crest is quiet.

Time fills itself like this; there’s little for you to do now but wait. Wait for the dusk to blur into the dawn. Wait for your food to cook. Wait for the shower to warm. Wait for the parts you ordered to arrive at the port. Wait for Din to come back—to come home.

Home. You used to be so certain—you’d bite the head off anyone who questioned otherwise— but you’re not so sure this is home anymore. Its not that anything has changed. No, the galley, the carbonite pods, the cockpit, the deck—it’s all still here. The scuffed walls, the durasteel, the littered crates and packed arsenal. But—

It’s different. It feels different. Something is...

off.

You can’t quite put your finger on it. Its intangible, but it’s everywhere—like gas. Invisible to the naked eye, but encircling you all the same. Choking you.

Killing you.

There’s no good explanation for it. You feel eyes on you when there are none. You find yourself glancing over your shoulder, knowing full well you are alone. Something keeps snagging you, pulling at an unseen thread. The corners of your peripherals tugging at you. Beckoning.

Was that a shadow? No.

Is someone there? It’s just you.

There is a tickle at your ear - a constant - dancing along the shell of it. Wherever you go, it follows.

Home home home. It only feels like home when Din is there, safe and sound at your side. But even then, even Din—in all of his plated exterior—even Din has succumbed. Even Din has

changed.

The truth is, Grogu left and a part of Din left with him. There’s less of him now— more, too: there’s less where it matters, and there’s more where there shouldn’t be.

You don’t remember when it started—when he first disappeared. When the spark in him died, and he was reignited anew.

When this Other became.

On multiple occasions you’ve caught him murmuring into the bellied dark of the Crest with a bent spine, hunched over himself as if he’s shrinking—enveloping in in in as far as the beskar along his chest will allow him to cave. You can never pick up what he mutters, but you catch the sounds of his teeth and lips brushing together, hissing. It’s not Basic; you’d recognize it if it were. You don’t think its Mando’a either. It’s too sharp— too vile. There’s none of his language’s elegance in it.

“Did you say something?” You asked once, poking your head around the doorway, eyes resting on the shine of his helmet.

A beat—and slowly, he unfurled, rearing to his full height and like a sentinel he swiveled, pivoting to face you.

“No.”

Your throat bobbed. “Oh, I-I thought I heard-”

“Come here, mesh’la.”

And you did. You always do.

The darksaber appeared on his belt one day, shortly after the child went away. It came, only once, and there it stays. Indistinguishable - inseparable - there is no dismembering the two. It accompanies him in all things; when he pilots, when he hunts, when he eats. It sleeps by him.

By you, too.

Din has always been stoic—of scant words and physical timing—but now he is a golem. A silent, shrouded figure. His Creed is broken, and you wonder maybe - briefly - if Din is broken as well. He is never unkind to you. He is never threatening. But he is never him. His eyes— the oaky comfort you once found in them— have blackened. He is a pit.

Din Djarin is a pit of a man.

And within that pit he has born rage. Immaculately, it has sprung from him as woman did by Adam’s rib. Like mold growing upon stale fruit does he have this—this wrath. It crept through him. It stalked along his soft flesh— his tawny hide—and it waited; patient, there in the shadows, it waited for him. Waited for him to turn his back, to close his eyes and drop his guard— leeway, an entrance— as to slip in undetected.

To inhabit.

The virtue and love that once thrummed within the heart of him has burned away. Charred. Only this of him remains; this insatiable lust— for blood sport, for the promise of split knuckles and fractured bone, for you.

For all of you.

Now, Din goes out on bounties like he needs it—like it’s oxygen. He lives off it. He’s sustained by the rush, by the adrenaline laced chemicals pumping through his arteries. He’s gone for days and weeks on end and when he returns, he fucks you like he’s been starved. Out in the wilderness without a morsel to eat, he devours you. He’s ravenous as he tears his way across your body—all too pliant for him, all too willing—letting him feast on the nectar dripping from your heat.

You can feel it in his foot steps as he storms the ship, the bassy echo of it. You can see it in the pitch of his visor. You can feel it in his cock as he slams into you, night after night after night—ceaselessly. Tirelessly. Unnaturally. The number of orgasms he wrings out of you is countless—his need so incurable, you have to fight to stay above it all; you have to war against your urge to slip away completely.

Din is one grey choice - one hair trigger - from coming undone.

And you should be scared. You should be terrified—he should terrify you. Like scalding water, you should flinch away at the mere sight of him—at the warning steam that rises from his pauldrons. This predator, unhinged and off his leash—a great, crushing beast at which you are at the mercy of.

But— you aren’t.

You couldn’t place it at first: the gnawing. The gnawing at your insides like maggots festering upon a grizzled carcass hanging limp at a wet market. You couldn’t name the tremor in your gut. You gave it epithets as best you could, you gave it placeholders - fear, worry, intrigue - all until one day it spilled. One day it seeped past the tremble of your stomach and sank lower, lower,

lower.

It settled in your cunt—the gnawing. And you named it Want.

You want him. You want this—you’re addicted to it. This sin like led-lined velvet, you want to roll in it until it poisons you, until you’re smothered with it, just like it’s smothering you now— blanketing you as you mewl naked in your bed, knees knocked together. Your eyes roll back into your skull as you frantically work circles into your clit with the all consuming thought of him: his teeth at your shoulders, his hand around your windpipe.

You’re nearing your finish, the promise of that tight coil unraveling there - there - right before you. You’re so enrapt in it—in this dizzying, wanton act—you don’t register the ramp lowering. You don’t hear the carbonite chamber whir, his quarry freezing over, or his foot falls sounding their way to your bunk.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

You gasp, frightened eyelids wrenching open as his baritone timbre crackles through the hull. The Mandalorian stands there, backlit by the glow from the galley and he looms—expressionless. Haunting. You blink at him rapidly, batting away the desire that’s glazed over your eyes.

“Y-You’re back,” you stutter lamely. You try to smile. You try to distract him. “I uhm, I didn’t hear you come in. I thought you wouldn’t be back until, u-until..."

Your excuses fade, mouth parched dry. The film of his visor gives you nothing. He is unknowable, but you feel it - sense it - that energy—unbridled and rippling off of him in sick, suffocating waves.

“I’ll ask you again,” Din starts.

“What-" he steps towards you, darksaber hanging heavy at his hip, “do you think-" you shimmy up your cot, shoulder blades digging into the steel sidings, “you’re doing?”

Your heart thunders against your chest, beating until you’re sure it’ll burst.

“I’m-"

I’m sorry you almost say, and you have to force yourself to gulp down the apology. You know he doesn’t want it, and he knows you wouldn’t mean it even if you offered it to him.

Your brow wavers. “I-"

He rips away the sheet you had drawn up over you and reflexively you jerk back, revealing the gloss on your fingers and the patch of hair above your mound, shimmering shamefully—exposing you, mocking you under the dim lights.

“What’s this?” he asks, and fuck he’s patronizing you. He’s smirking—you don’t have to see it, you can hear it in the curving lilt of his voice as he drinks in the sight of your very obvious indiscretion, laid bare before him. You can’t bring yourself to answer him—you can hardly look at him—and you bristle, hair on your arm prickling up.

“You fuck yourself speechless, little one?”

Your cunt throbs, burning and contracting around the orgasm that was snatched away from you and fuck, you’re drowning in him. Din is tar—he’s an oil slick, and you’re plummeting through it—gasping for air, for the surface, for sunlight. He’s everywhere—his broad frame, his voice, his scent like copper and smoke. You can barely breathe through the thick of him.

“Answer me,” he growls, leather croaking at the clench of his fist.

“Yes—yes,” you utter, proceeding with honesty, no matter how pathetic. “I missed you,” you squeak out.

Din cocks his head, a smug look scowled onto his visor. “You missed me?” he purrs through a sneer and you nod, precious and small, worrying the inside of your lip.

He sinks one leg and then the other onto your bedroll, just between your parted feet, kneeling before you. The flimsy spring mattress squeals under his weight—all of that armor, all of that boiling soot trapped within him.

“How much?”

For a moment, you must look confused. Puzzled. Your eyebrows furrow as Din unclips the saber from his belt, rolling it over in his hand. You rake your gaze up from it, dilated pupils landing on the unforgiving black panel there.

“You claim you missed me. Prove it.”

Your cunt bottoms out.

He crouches over you, tracing along your inner thighs with it's steel shaft and you bury your fists into the cot. You don't know which to look at: Din or the rod in his hand. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you trust me.”

Fuck, it feels like you’re going to rattle apart. There isn’t an inch of you that isn’t humming—isn’t seizing up wild. “I-I trust you,” you mouth softly. And you do, whether you should or not—you trust him with your life, to make or ruin.

“Fuck, you’re wet mesh'la,” he appraises darkly, leaning in to run a leathered digit through your seam, parting your curls. Your legs twitch, heels of your feet digging into the bed. “So ready for me. So eager."

Your eyes dance frenetically down to the handle and back up to him as he aligns the saber with your pussy. The blunt end of it touches your lips and you shudder, instinctually fidgeting away from it. Din splays his hand on your knee, anchoring you in place. “Shh,” he coos, rubbing a thumb soothingly into your skin. It doesn’t feel sweet. It feels sickly, cloying— like arsenic.

You don’t dare breathe as he prods the shaft into you, inch by terrible inch. It doesn’t matter how slicked and wet you are from touching yourself, your walls strangle the foreign intrusion. Your body resists.

“Fuck,” you sob. Your throat, your pussy, all of it— it’s all compacted. It feels so fucking tight, both words and air fighting to get out and in all at once—everything inside you constricting.

“Show me,” he grits through clenched teeth. “Show me how much you missed me.” He drags his gloved digit over your clit, pressing down onto it until you see stars, fizzing in front of your vision. “I know you can take it, sweet girl. Be good and show me.”

Be good. Be good for him. Be his only vice.

He continues to swirl at your bundle of nerves and you’re nearly thrashing with it— with all of this— hair fanned and mussed against the pillow as you writhe, swallowing his saber to the hilt. Fuck, you’re so full. Maker, you’re stuffed with it; with the cold, uneven edges, the ridges woven into the grip of it— and he slowly - tortuously - delves the handle in and out of you, hitting against your cervix with every thrust.

You can only mumble. Your lips have gone slack, your mind is cavernous. All you can do is quiver and beg— beg for release. Beg for it to end.

Beg for more.

“Oh gods, oh g- Maker, please—”

Your bleary eyes shoot open as you’re silenced by the grip of his gloved hand.

“No.” Din pinches your jaw in the web of his palm, fingertips dimpling your cheeks. “No, your God isn’t here,” he seethes, low and deadly, graphite venom dripping from his lips. “Pray to me.”

Fuck.

Trembling, your lips pucker ugly and sloppy as you babble uselessly in his stony grasp, chin crinkling with a whimper. “D-Din.”

He inhales sharply, mouth snaking into a wicked grin behind his helm. “That’s it. That’s my good girl.”

He’s deboning you as he would a fish. Practiced, he plucks you into messy pieces—gutting you through your open maw. His ministrations are crawled. They’re slothed and carnal with arrogance and pride and it’s not enough—its all together too much, but still—it’s not enough. You’re hungry. You paw at him, scraping over his breastplate.

“Din, please—more," you gasp feverishly, eyes blown wide.

A blip of static huffs through his modulator. “You want more, you filthy little thing?” He gives you another squeeze, indenting scorch marks into your face.

You nod—you try to, his grasp is too firm, rooting your neck to still. “Yes.”

Din groans, all but obliging you as he begins to fuck you harder, pistoning through you as he thumbs your nub with his rough pad.

“Din-”

You’re whining now, tinny and depraved. It’s wrong. Every part, every second of this, is wrong. Immoral. But you can’t stop the way your body convulses at his every touch—you can’t stop the heat roiling in your core.

“Din, Din baby- fuck fuck fuck-”

It’s like he’s trying to split you in two—all of you. Your pussy, your mind, your soul—he’s bisecting you. Divvying you up to bits of nothing. It’s only then that horrid realization occurs to you, winding through your addled haze as he fucks you deep and splintering: you’ll never be whole again.

And scarier still—you don’t think you want to be.

No, you want to be these loathsome shards. You want to be broken glass. You want to draw blood.

You want to be possessed by him.

“Fuck yourself,” he pants, his cock straining violently against his trousers, begging for relief. “Be good and fuck yourself. Let me watch.”

Be good be good be good

He leaves your clit and you whimper at the loss. Your face is stained with tears. The salty trails cascade down to mingle into your hair, into the sheets. You’re vibrating, but you do as he says and you reach down, recoiling when you touch the chilled metal tip. Tentatively, you pad along it, settling on the end that’s peeking out from you.

A pained sound rumbles through Din as you wrap your fist around the saber, and your eyes flit up to meet his, hidden somewhere behind his helm. Hurriedly he unbuttons his pants in a flourish and removes himself from his constraints. He’s pulsing and proud, flexing up against his stomach, the veins choked to bulge along the angry, silken shaft of him.

Finally, you begin to move the hilt—finding an aching, undulating rhythm and he can’t fucking take it. He rips his helmet off, letting it clatter to the floor.

“Din,” your pray, “Din, I think I’m going to-”

You’re wrecked – fried like a livewire– as you look for him, as you search and search—for that warmth, for a trace of him left there. The Din you knew, the Din you agreed to fly with all those months ago, the Din you love. You think you see it sometimes—in the slant of his mouth, the bridge of his nose— but here, now, he is gone.

He is a pit.

Din Djarin is a pit of a man, and you want nothing more than to fall. Standing on the ledge of him, staring down into the abyss—you want this. You want to fall. You want to jump.

“Tell me you’re mine. Tell me, sweet girl— tell me.” He’s fucking his fist raw, humping into his palm as desperate as an animal.

“I’m yours,” you mewl. Furiously rubbing your clit with one hand and spearing yourself on the rod of his saber with the other, your hips buck and spasm. You snap. A blinding light sears through you, ricocheting off every scrap of muscle and tendon sewed up in your body. “Just for you,” you cry, “I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours—”

Your ragged sobs mix with the lewd slaps of skin as Din pumps himself, hot ropes of his release spitting onto you— painting your pussy, the divot of your navel, coating along the slope of your tummy.

“Look at you—fucking, look at you,” he moans throatily, easing through his rough strokes as he softens.

Your chest is heaving and you feel dumb, empty—like a puppet, arms and legs moving on phantom strings. Din removes the handle from you with a wet squelch; a viscous strand of your juices clings on, obscenely connecting your pussy to the base of it, and you rasp—the wind punched out of you with its gaping absence. You gush. It dribbles out the slit of you, leaking past your abused hole and soaking into the bedroll.

When he unsheathed the saber from your scabbard, he took a part of you with it. You’re so fucked out—you’re practically a parsec away— it went unnoticed.

Undetected.

It brushed past you. You didn’t feel it—you didn’t recognize the whisper that has slithered in in it’s place, nestling within your swollen folds.

Breeding there.

“Beautiful,” Din murmurs, placing it on the mattress beside your head, the chrome of it gleaming with your slick. He bows his head to lick a path up your cunt, laving you clean as he climbs higher and higher, tonguing off his seed from your stippled skin. “Fucking beautiful, mesh’la,” he growls. “Mine—all fucking mine.”

You’ve gone heavy. You’re too heavy to keep your eyes open—you’ve been hollowed out and you’ve got nothing keeping you tethered here. You start slipping under in slow motion—intervals between languid blinks lasting longer and longer. You’re spooled in a knot of tangled limbs with Din’s mouth, fervent and needy, flaying you open as he sees fit— with his hot mouth and teeth, suckling your breasts, biting at your nipples and bruising your pretty neck.

It’s not long before you hear it again, as you have before— as you always do: the faint caressing of speech, of lips forming language you cannot understand—made indecipherable in your strung out high.

“D’you say something?” you mumble, half conscious—half dreaming.

Din laps a long stripe up your throat, his stubble sanding your skin. “No.”

You sigh, breathy and girlish, as his fingers find your mound, dipping into you once again. He makes you cum twice more that evening. You barely have the strength to watch him do it.

/

Finally, when he’s satisfied—when he’s spent with driving you mad, making you rile— he grants you respite. He permits it – generous, charitable - and you sleep like the dead, soundly through the night until—

until you don’t.

Eyes. You feel them somewhere— there are eyes on you. You stir, stuttering in your sleep to squirm in the dark. You don’t know what you’re listening to at first. It’s a sound of some kind, a noise. There is a hiss—

A frigid hand seizes around the bloody organ pulsing in your ribcage.

No, not a hiss—it’s a voice. It’s— no-

You pat around for Din beside you but he’s gone—he’s long gone and his vacant spot has grown cold without him—and your nails dig into the sheets, desperately clawing into the fabric.

Inside you.

The voice, the sharp hush of it—it’s inside you. It speaks from inside your own mind, its forked tongue fluttering against your ear.

‘Wake up, sweet girl.’

/

Tags (IM SO SORRY): @djarinsbeskar @pedros-mustache @krissology @keeper0fthestars @read-and-rec

#darksaber!din #dark!din #dark!din x reader #dark!din x you #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #mando fanfiction #mando x you #mando x reader #the mandalorian #star wars #sw fanfic #darksaber #Im so sorry #dom!din #haunted!din

[crackheadgeminibby]

mistakes were made

pairing: chris evans x black!reader

warnings: language, age gap, angst, mentions of sex TW body insecurities and talk of weight gain

word count: 2.9k

i do not consent to my work being copied in any way, shape or form or reposted on any other platform

picture credit: screengrab from "Captain America Dinner Party" on youtube

You finish getting dressed and pick up everything you need to go for a run. As you’re walking down the last steps, you see that Chris is sitting on the couch, working on something on his computer. You come up behind him and softly kiss his temple before saying,

“Hey baby. I just put Emma to sleep and I’m gonna go for a run. Can you just pay attention and make sure she doesn’t wake up, please?”

Chris absentmindedly nods and mutters a “be careful”. You faintly smile and roll your eyes at his unwavering concentration but make sure to turn the volume of the baby monitor all the way up before leaving.

You go out through the garage and smile up at the sky, feeling the heat of the sun warming up your face.

You start to run the route you used to before getting pregnant with your baby girl. Last Sunday, it had been five months since your bundle of joy had been born. As much as you utterly adored her and the experience of carrying your own child, you had not appreciated the effect that the pregnancy had on your body.

On the contrary, most mothers-to-be were described as glowing and full of new energy but while you were pregnant, you always felt like you were about to get a cold and you had put on so much weight that you could barely recognize yourself. You had thought that it was only the pregnancy hormones changing your body that way as you were still very young, but today, five months after giving birth, your body had stayed the same and that certainly was not helping your confidence.

You weren’t sure if Chris had noticed your insecurities that manifested themselves by you eating almost the same meager meals every day and pushing away all sorts of sexual interactions with him. Since he had never mentioned anything or ever seemed frustrated with you, you thought he simply didn’t notice it or just didn't mind it.

Lost in your thoughts, you’re back home before you know it. As you’re entering the garage, you faintly hear Chris’ voice travel through the house all the way to you. Slightly confused, you assume that he must have forgotten to tell you he had an appointment or something, so you make sure to be as silent as possible to not disturb him.

“Bro, I know, it’s fucking crazy. I actually have my own child now.”

You smile softly at his excitement. You’re downing a bottle of water you took from the fridge when your ears perk up at your name coming out of Chris’ mouth.

“Oh, Y/N? Yeah, you know, she’s fine, she's good.”

Tilting your head slightly, you try to understand the sudden shift in Chris’ mood: even from two rooms away, you could feel his energy change.

“No, it’s fine, it’s just that she’s been kind of weird since the baby.”

You frown at hearing Chris say that. He never mentioned anything to you so why the hell was he talking about it with whoever was on the other end of the phone?

“No but like bro, look, it’s like this. I’ll be out all day doing whatever, and then when I come home, she’s all over me, being super clingy and all. Like, she will literally not let me go anywhere. But then, whenever I try to ease the mood into, you know, something more sexual, she just shuts down and says that Emma needs some food or something and she leaves. Then, when she comes back, she’s practically running from me like I have the fucking plague or something!”

As Chris is listening to what the person on the phone is responding, you start to feel a knot in your throat and you know that if you don’t do anything soon, you’re going to be full-on sobbing. As you’re working on your breathing and a plan, you hear Chris say,

“Dude, I literally thought the same thing. I swear. But, when we went for her check-up a little after she gave birth, the doctor said we couldn’t have sex for 6 weeks. It’s been like 20 weeks now!”

Unable to contain your emotions any longer, you leave your water bottle on the counter and run back to the garage, as silently as you can. Once in the safety of the garage, tears stream down your face as you let out a sob that brings you to your knees. You let yourself cry for what feels like forever, but you know it must not have been more than 5 minutes.

When you start to calm down, you focus on finding a plan to make sure Chris didn’t know that you were eavesdropping on his phone conversation. You take deep breaths before wiping your face and fixing your appearance as best as you can while using the rear-view mirror of your car.

Once you’re certain that you can’t do anything more, you take a final breath before opening the door and slamming it loud enough for Chris to hear that you’re in the house. As you’re approaching the living room, and thus, the staircase leading to your room, you faintly hear Chris say, “Yeah, man. I’ll talk to you later.”

You pass behind him while keeping your head held high and not giving him a single glance. As you start to climb up the stairs, you see that Chris is turning towards you.

“Hey baby, I didn’t hear you come back. How was your run?”

You take a deep breath before answering as calmly as you can, “Fine. I’m going to take a shower.”

Chris hesitates for a second before responding, “Um, okay, I’ll start dinner then.”

You don’t answer and run up the last couple of stairs as you feel your resolve crumbling. You hurriedly take some random clothes and a towel before locking yourself in the en suite bathroom. As soon as the door is closed, you put your hand over your mouth as a cry escapes you again. You put your clothes and towel on the counter before sitting in front of your bathtub. You don’t know how long you stay there, stifling your cries, but you suddenly hear the doorknob jiggling before a loud knock resonates through the bathroom.

“Y/N? You okay in there? I heard some weird noises.”

You clear your throat as softly as you can before answering, “I’m fine, I just stubbed my toe.” You cringe as your voice breaks halfway through your sentence.

The doorknob jiggles again before you hear, “Are you sure? And why is the door locked? You never lock it.”

“Uh... I'm on my period.”

You roll your eyes at your dumb and illogical excuse but it was going to have to do for now.

Before Chris can say anything else, you start the shower, rapidly take your clothes off and step inside. Both Chris and you knew that when the shower water was on, it was almost impossible to hear anything else in the bathroom.

You spend at least an hour under the scalding water, and you finally get out as you see a glimpse of the time on the bathroom clock: 6:45pm. It was time to start getting Emma ready for bed and you knew that she rarely slept through the night if you weren't the one to put her to bed. Knowing that this meant that nobody in the house would really get any sleep, you reluctantly turn off the shower water and get out of the shower.

As you’re toweling off, you can faintly hear music coming from outside of the bathroom. You put on the clothes you had taken from your room and put them on.

How ironic. You were wearing the same shirt from the first time Chris had told you he loved you. You smile bitterly as you look at the shirt in the mirror and pick up the rest of your things before getting out of the bathroom.

You walk into your shared bedroom with Chris and immediately recognize “Wicked Games” by The Weeknd. You roll your eyes as you remember the time you had told Chris that, for whatever reason, The Weeknd’s 2010s phase could always get you in the mood. You take your time doing your skincare routine before taking care of your workout clothes.

After finishing in your bedroom, you close the door and head to Emma’s room to get her ready for bed. However, you frown confusedly as you see that everything in Emma’s room is clean and organized. Emma is clearly changed, dressed in her nighttime pyjamas, tucked in and soundly asleep while Dodger is snoring in front of her crib. You smile softly. Even before Emma was born, Dodger was extremely protective of her and when she was born, he was practically attached to her hip. Wherever Emma was, Dodger was also there.

You’re watching Emma and Dodger sleep, a seemingly permanent smile on your face when you suddenly feel a hand on your shoulder. You turn around rapidly and slightly jerk away from Chris when he attempts to put a hand on your arm. He frowns slightly before saying,

“I got Emma ready for bed and dinner’s ready downstairs.”

You sigh and walk around Chris before making your way downstairs as you hear his soft footsteps behind you. When you turn the corner to enter the living room, your breath slightly hitches as you see that Chris has set a candlelit dinner table. Chris softly sets his hands on your shoulders and starts to gently massage them as he says,

“I made spaghetti with chicken parm, your favorite. And extra cheese, just how you like it.”

As your resolve starts to crumble, Chris’ words from earlier in the day echo in your mind. The memory makes you instantly tense up and you let out a shaky breath while trying to control your emotions. To take the focus off of you, you sit down and start to serve Chris and yourself some water. You hear Chris sigh loudly before he sits down in front of you. He serves you a hearty serving of pasta with a whole chicken breast before serving himself. Chris looks at you, clearly hesitating to say anything for a couple of seconds while you’re poking at your food before saying,

“So, I thought you would like the chicken parm tonight since you seemed kind of down after your run.”

You let go of your fork, which loudly hits your plate, and put your head in your hands before you say, “Oh my God, Chris, I can’t fucking do this.”

“Woah, Y/N, you can't do what? What's wrong?”, Chris asks, shocked.

“What’s wrong, Christopher, is that I heard you on the phone this afternoon. Talking about how I’m supposedly clingy and never want to have sex with you anymore.”

Chris visibly tenses up as he hears your statement and stammers trying to find an excuse to justify his behavior.

“Wait, I… I can explain.”

You hold your hand up, signifying to Chris that you’re not done.

“First of all, you have absolutely no right to talk to anybody about our sex life without at least asking me first, which you know I would absolutely not agree with. Second of all, you should know by now that if you have any problems with me, you come to me. You don’t go talking to some random person about it behind my back.”

You angrily get up from the table and narrow your eyes at Chris as you continue.

“And third, not that you deserve any justification whatsoever for me not wanting to have sex with you, but I gained weight, Chris. Way too much weight. I find myself fat and gross and I didn’t want you to see my body and think the exact same things I think every single time I see myself in the mirror.”

You sniffle as you realize that you had been crying.

“And you can help yourself to the couch tonight.”

You walk up the stairs and, mindful to not wake Emma up, you softly close your bedroom door. You immediately snuggle into the covers while soft sobs rake through your body. You’re not sure how long you lay there crying but you eventually fall asleep from exhaustion.

You groggily wake up a couple of hours later while the sun is starting to rise as you hear Emma’s cries on the baby monitor. You rub your eyes as you get out of the bed and head over to her room. You take Emma out of her crib and immediately identify that her diaper is full. You feel your headache from crying developing further as you’re changing Emma.

When you’re finished, you take Emma in your arms and bounce her up and down while softly humming to help her fall back asleep with Dodger dutifully following you.

You head downstairs in search of painkillers for your headache while continuing to hum to Emma. While passing through the living room, you can see Chris’ head resting on the couch armrest. As Dodger spots him, he heads over to him and whines softly before setting himself at the end of the couch, prepared to fall back asleep.

You chuckle slightly before downing the painkillers and heading back up to Emma’s room, ready to put her back in bed. You set her down and tuck her in before exhaling softly and heading back to your bedroom.

Your headache and the painkillers had effectively made you exhausted again as you fall asleep almost as soon as your head hits the pillow.

When you finally wake up for the day, you groan at the faint traces of your headache still present. You look over at your nightstand and see that it’s now 7:30am. You roll your eyes at this. You had barely slept an additional hour.

Figures. You never really slept that well when Chris wasn't in bed with you.

As your senses start to really awaken, you smell some coffee and hear the shower running for a couple of seconds after which, it stops.

Before you know it, Chris walks out of the bathroom, body steaming, with a towel loosely wrapped around his waist. He suddenly stops in his tracks as he realizes you’re awake.

God… Even when he pissed you off, he was still hot as fuck.

He lightly clears his throat before saying, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up. I just wanted to take a shower after my workout.”

You gently shake your head before responding with a raspy voice, “You didn’t wake me, it’s fine.”

Chris nods his head once before tightly smiling. You can feel the tension in the room as Chris stands in front of the bathroom door and looks anywhere but at you. After a couple of seconds, he softly sniffles and croaks, “Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

You sit up in the bed and lean on the headboard as you frown softly. Chris makes his way to you and softly sits on his side of the bed with his head hung. You can see from the various expressions that are passing on his face that he’s trying to find the words to talk to you

“I didn’t really sleep last night because I kept thinking about what you said. And I realized how much of an asshole I was.” He balls up his fists as he shakes his head and continues, “I never should have talked about any of those things with Matt and I’m so sorry that I did. I’m also sorry that I never came to talk to you, like a grown man, and instead just talked about you behind your back.”

Chris hesitantly reaches for your hands and takes them into his when he sees that you’re not negatively reacting to him while tears are dropping on the covers.

“Above all, I’m especially sorry that I ever made you feel like I wasn’t there for you and like you couldn’t come to me. I really didn’t know how you felt about yourself and it breaks my heart that I let you go through this alone when I should have been there to support you after Emma was born."

He shrugs gently before finishing with, "And for what it’s worth, I think you’re as beautiful now as you were while you were pregnant and before you got pregnant.”

Chris looks up at you with red eyes as he waits for you to say something. You open and close your mouth multiple times as you’re trying to find the right words to respond to him.

You finally settle on, “I don’t know that I can forgive you right now, Chris. What you did really hurt me. Like a lot.”

Chris’ head slightly hangs down before you finish with, “However, I don’t think it would be beneficial to our family for us to be apart right now.”

As soon as he hears this, Chris’ head snaps up, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“I’m gonna need space and time to work through this but I believe that our relationship is stronger than this.”

Chris nods excitedly and bites his bottom lip before asking, “Is it okay if I hug you?”

You lightly nod your head and chuckle slightly as Chris practically throws himself at you. He rests his head in the crook of your neck before whispering “I love you so much, Y/N.”

Without hesitation, you whisper back, “I love you too, Chris.”

If there was something that you knew would never change is that you loved Chris, forever and always.

#chris evans #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x woc #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfics

[yaomomvs]

SEIJOH MANANGER HEADCANONS

seijoh, aoba johsai x reader | slight oikawa, iwaizumi and kunimi x reader.

a/n: ugh! i just love my seijoh boys so much! and so, i decided to make one more headcanons for them, tysm! hopefully i’ll do inarizaki next or maybe karasuno.

a bit long but i just love them,and i will do a part two mainly focusing on while they do volleyball this is more of random things

other seijoh!manager works: one | two

the volume in this bus is ASTRONOMICAL

you actually never thought of joining a club, specially a sports one.

but you needed it, so while looking at the board of the school’s options you were unsure.

“i just really need something not that complicated, and that helps me helping others” you muttered to yourself

little did you know the coach of the volleyball team was there, this nice man turned to you and offered you a place in the team.

“but please if you are one of oikawa’s fangirls dont-” “who now?” you genuinely asked. seeing that you didn’t had a clue of who he was talking about he immediately handed the application for to you.

it was first day and you were already late, but you managed to enter the gym half way practice.

you guys remember that tanaka and kiyoko scene in s4? well it was the same

“sorry for being late coach!” your voice sounded all over the place since someone was serving and it was pretty quiet.

ALL OF THEM WERE SHOCKED LIKE 🧍🏻‍♀️

the serve even hit yahaba’s face because everyone got distracted by your beauty

“i- did i do something?” “existing omg”

the coach lined up everyone and they greeted you welcoming you to the team.

you were flustered because it was like you never had a lot of guys around you and now you had to take care of all of them and also

aoba johsai’s team had one of the most attractive boys around likeeee

now, a year later, the energy is purely chaotic.

and i mean like

kindaichi and kunimi are lowkey the ones who respect you the most

not only because you, even if it was for only a year, you were their upperclassman but also you had presence

when karasuno came to the practice andy oh catched both of them after talking to kageyama in the bathroom, you pinched their ears and scolded them

“you both do that again and i’m not being compassionate” “SORRY Y/N”

but also lowkey your admirers

kunimi literally only showed strong emotions around you

“i brought you some sweets” he regularly says

“oh you are great! thank you kunimi!”you appreciated this guys little details with you

“so you have a favoritism with our manager huh?”

“y/n permission to hit kindaichi”

“permission conceded”

kindaichi also respected you because you, when he entered seijoh months ago, were one of the ones who made him believe and helped getting over that anger he had with his ex teammates and you even assured that kageyama was the reason he got better, even if he wouldn’t accept it

the second years, your literal followers

like seriously yahaba watori were always around you.

being in the same grade and class as both dod not helped a lot.

they are like puppies with anxiety separation

because you are the reason they feel loved and cared for

they always sit next to you in class, and they make sure you are comfortable with it.

you need help with hw? watori always is there

yahaba lets you paint his nails every time you got bored in class

you were such a powerful trio

they always bring your favorite drink in the mornin

you even developed this sixth sense where if you just look at each other you know exactly who are you making fun of without even speaking

you always make fun of the shit way of yahaba to flirt oml

and you even advice him on what should he do or not when meeting someone new.

istg if it was not bc of you he would have never got his first date with his crush

kyoutani later joined you, but he had trouble on trusting you

but seeing all the team laying on you he actually let himself rely on another person for the first time

he was the one who scared those stupid volleyball boys fan girls (oikawa’s or the other guys ones) away from you

he also thinks that you are not bad physically talking and he actually says it but privately

he also whenever he is mad or just frustrated comes to you and what he likes is that you don’t go in deep of the details but instead you try to distract him with random thing you say.

“guys i told you several times” you laughed “i do have other thing to do! it not like i can attend every night out with you! i have other friends too!”

“so, we are not watching cartoons tonight?”

“i hate you all so much” you surrendered “see you at 8 pm”

you became the second years core four

and also they looked up to you a lot, why? because you are the only people who always deals with the third years shit

god i think your connection with the third years was only a bit more noticeable than the second years

why? you were not afraid to mess up with them

to be real iwaizumi as oikawa caught your eye since moment one, they were naturally attractive and talented but you made a promise to not fall for anyone

omg you were so wrong

if it was iwaizumi, he always made sure you felt comfortable around

you were no vb genius so he took the time to explain you a bunch of things you did not know 🥺

also, he’s the kind of guy to stop everyone spiking because you were crossing through the gym so no ball gets you

he is the one who always search for you in school, asked about your day, and stuff that might seem basic but it was really meaningful

like he is the kind of guy who memorizes all your favorite places, treats, music anything and actually tries to get you to talk about it

oikawa on the other hand was the one who actually made you feel like part of them

he is so sweet!

like

oikawa only starts practice when you are there

like bold of someone to start hitting a ball without you there, he considered you part of the team, so he always waited for you

he walked you home or nearby every time he could he wanted you safe

his eyes always always instantly light up and screams “y/n-chan!” and immediately runs to you

but also he is the one who search you the most around

if it was lunch time he went to your home room and literally lunches with you no matter what or who

he never lets anyone lend you their hoodie, it always has to be his that you are wearing

he self crowned himself as your favorite

he hugs you out of nowhere istg is the best feeling ever

hanamaki also also also considers you priority

he is kinda more of the lowkey one, he is mainly the one who checks up on you

he once spotted a bruise in your arm and he immediately freaked out

“DO I HAVE TO FIGHT SOMEONE” “god no! i just dropped a huge book there!”

hanamaki is the one who waits for you in the entrance of the gym to walk with you to practice

he also is the first one to notice if something is wrong with you along with iwachan

they both unintentionally pay attention to you a lot and if you do something out of the common they just approach you

and they are always right

“what’s wrong y/n?” hanamaki says

“yeah, is everything okay you need anything?” iwaizumi continues.

“what do you mean guys? i’m okay” you obviously try to lie.

“no you are not, you are acting different”

“yea iwachan is right you always change yous t shirt before practice and the way you are ordering the volleyballs is off”

“why do know me so well” you indeed had a terrible day, so you almost tear up bb of that and be of how amazing your boys were to you sometimes”

“come here little one”

you heard a pout

“i see you oikawa, you can get a hug too. matsu come here”

matsukawa is your hype man

he loves messing with you like in the big brother sister way

like if a guy asked you out he’d be like “sis you can do so much better”

you are always being salty whether it’s between you or other ones

besides if you do have a crush on anyone on the team matsu is the only one to know

and he’d constantly blackmail you with that

“if you don’t buy me anything from the vending machine i will tell oikawa you actually swoon for him” “OKAY FINE”

“tell the coach that we do not need laps or iwaizumi is gonna knowwwww about” “i hate you so much”

but returning to the point you always messed with them specially the four third years

and you were so good at it

one day, you ‘innocently’ mentioned to the boys “i’m just telling you! i’ve never seen two pretty best friends, one of them always gotta be ugly”

GOD LORD THE BOMB YOU JUST ACTIVATED

THEY SPENT A WHOLE WEEK TRYING TO FUGURE OUT WHO WAS THE PRETTY BEST FRIEND BETWEEN IWA AND OIKAWA, ALSO MATSU AND HANAMAKI AHHAHAHAAH

your third years never made you feel insecure

like if you think idk listening to btr was weird because someone in the past made you feel like it be sure the next day they WILL PLAY FUCKING BIG TIME RUSH IN PRACTICE ONLY FOR YOU TO VIBE WITH THEM

also they all four have this little thought that they have to be the ones who protect you

in the court you looked out for them, outside of it they were the ones who did that

if you were teased or someone even had the audacity to make fun of you it could go three ways

you stoping kyoutani and yahaba because they were so ready to throw hands

matsukawa, hanamaki and kunimi just taking you out of there and rather say positive thinks about you

or oikawa and iwaizumi behind you giving the saltiest and meanest glares to whoever dared talking you that way and saying “and you still wonder why people don’t like you?, ” then iwaizumi says “you are right oikawa, you piece of crap have your entire life to be a jerk. take a day off your stupidity won’t left anyways”

god you sure loved those guys

BUT

as it can be really useful sometimes there were other times were they become so annoying

specially when it’s about someone liking you.

like romantic styles

i live for the idea that the vb team had obviously fangirls, oikawa mostly. but you also did

like yeah the fangirls of oikawa and the boys envied you

but the guys in aoba johsai high envied the volleyball team even more

god bless the poor guy or girl who DARES to ask you out

like please someone stop them 😭

on valentine’s day you came to practice a bit late just because you needed to figure it out how to organize all the fucking love letters and the chocolates and flowers that you got over the day.

oikawa was already worried as he always waited for you to start, and so were the guys so they decided to warm up a bit more to wait.

you crossed the door with thousands of gifts and all of that barely catching the ones which you dropped. because at this point you did not even try to hide it from the boys, you just wanted them to start practice.

he looked at you and knew exactly what that meant. he received this every once in a while, but god what was that feeling in his chest when some other people like you?

iwaizumi felt that too, that weird feeling not wanting anyone to think about you that wayyyyy

the rest of the boys had divided opinions but still you were their manager.

“so did all this came from...”

“yes matsu...”

“okay but for scientific purposes we need the names”

“HANAMAKI NO”

poor boys, they just are all scared that you’ll leave them because of someone

what a dramatic queens they are all

some of them didn’t like it bc they also had a big crush on you

so what they do is that they gatekeep anyone from you

like oml if they ever catched you and a girl or guy and they knew they liked you they constantly beg for your attention.

and it’s not only because they are being dramatic but also because they remember last year when you went out with some random dude and broke your heart like

they almost killed that guy

so they wanted you to feel happy and safe

to them? honestly you are the light of their life.

they dedicate every game to you, they take care of you, they listen to you, they brag about you, they love you

because honestly you did all that for them first

and ever since then they made sure to return that to you.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #oikawa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwachan #matsukawa x hanamaki #hanamaki #matsukawa #haikyuu imagine #seijoh #aoba johsai #seijoh manager #kyoutani x yahaba #yahaba headcanons #kyotani x reader #watori #kunimi x kindaichi #kageyama #hinata x reader #sugawara x reader #tsukishima x yamaguchi #tsukishima x reader #oikawa x you #kuroo x kenma #kuroo x reader #bokuto x reader #akaashi x reader #karasuno #fukorodani #iwaoi

[robininthelabyrinth]

This one's gonna take two asks, I'm incapable of making it more succinct. In Accurate description NHS said "I’m taking you back with me to the Nie sect when all this is over. If your parents want you back, they can come ask nicely.” Could we get that AU? And the Jiangs HAVE to ask nicely, because with the war on the horizon they can't risk alienating the Nies, but they are so bad at it? NHS's half assed plan to poach JC gets more and more solid the longer he has to watch this train wreck.(1/2)

How hard can it be to love your own flesh and blood? Even NMJ has stopped admonishing him for wanting to poach another sect's heir. What a political nightmare that would be. But JC is so relaxed with NHS's birds? And keeping up longer and longer when training with da-ge? And smiling more? And JYL said, she's never seen him so loose in the shoulders? NHS can make this work. JFM and YZY never valued JC anyway 

Part 2 of Accurate Description (necessary to read that first)

-

“Absolutely not,” was the first thing Nie Huaisang’s brother said when Nie Huaisang first raised the idea of kidnapping Jiang Cheng for his own good. “Absolutely fucking not.”

“Nie sect principle three,” Nie Huaisang said.

“Well, shit,” his brother said.

This was because Nie Huaisang’s brother is the best.

“I’ve gotten other people involved in this,” Nie Huaisang added helpfully.

“You’d better have,” his brother said. “I am not dealing with the fallout from this on my own.”

Nie Huaisang nodded happily. That was about what he’d expected.

A few moments later, his brother asked, “Why are we kidnapping him, anyway?”

-

“This is temporary,” Nie Mingjue said gruffly.

“Very temporary,” Jiang Cheng agreed, sounding stiff and awkward. “I don’t even know why I’m here.”

“You know exactly why you’re here,” Nie Huaisang objected. “I told you why!”

Jiang Cheng gave him a dirty look.

“Also I have no idea how da-ge got you here, but you’re staying,” Nie Huaisang said firmly. “For as long as it takes for your parents to show that they deserve you returning to them. You’re not getting a choice.”

Jiang Cheng’s face was turning red.

“That’s not the deal, Huaisang,” Nie Mingjue interjected. “Jiang Wanyin can return home at any time he wishes.”

Nie Huaisang glared, but his brother ignored him.

“He can also stay as long as he wishes,” he said, and this time it was Jiang Cheng’s turn to stare. “If you want others to respect him, you must first pay him the respect he deserves yourself. Now, I have to go, but Jiang Wanyin – know that our home is always open to you.”

He put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it, then ruffled Nie Huaisang’s hair, and left.

Jiang Cheng looked dazed.

Nie Huaisang smirked.

“…you said something about him giving out hugs?”

“Oh yeah,” Nie Huaisang said. “Great hugs.”

-

“I can’t believe you would betray me like this,” Nie Huaisang whined. “And after all I’ve done for you!”

“A little training’s not going to kill you,” Jiang Cheng said. “Come on already.”

“My brother put you up to this, didn’t he? You sold me out for a hug.”

“I sold you out for the opportunity to go on a proper night-hunt,” Jiang Cheng said. “Also, he said he was proud of the progress I’ve been making on my cultivation and sword training since I got here. And gave me a hug.”

Nie Huaisang grumbled but conceded that his brother was especially difficult to resist when he was in full big brother mode. If he wasn’t, Nie Huaisang wouldn’t have been nearly so willing to give up the neat new sword he’d found in the Xuanwu’s cave and store it down in their saber halls until his brother and Baxia could figure out how to suppress it - he hadn’t even realized it was full of resentful energy at first, and he still thought it was especially aesthetic.

“Besides, if you don’t practice something soon, he’ll come after you himself,” Jiang Cheng said. “Wouldn’t you rather train with me?”

“No. You’re just as crazy as he is.”

Jiang Cheng looked disturbingly complimented.

“I’ll come look at your birds later,” he offered.

“You’d do that anyway,” Nie Huaisang said. “You love my birds.”

Jiang Cheng did, too. Nearly as much as he loved all the feral cats that roamed the walls of the Unclean Realm, every single one of which seemed to have immediately pegged him as a soft touch and come nosing around for treats – Nie Huaisang had never seen Jiang Cheng look so calm and peaceful as when he had a cat under his palm.

It really put into perspective how stressed he looked the rest of the time.

“Oh, all right,” he groaned, and Jiang Cheng beamed. “Just know that I hate you.”

“Same to you, Nie-gongzi,” Jiang Cheng said, completely insincere. “Same to you.”

-

“You know, I’m surprised my parents haven’t shown up to demand me back yet,” Jiang Cheng said over lunch one day. “It’s not – it’s not a problem. It’s only – I thought – Mother at least –”

“Oh, they’re demanding all right,” Nie Huaisang sniggered.

“…Nie Huaisang, what have you done,” Jiang Cheng said.

“Conspired, that’s what,” Nie Mingjue said. “I don’t know if I should thank you for discovering my brother’s sole talent, namely for scheming and conspiracies, or to blame you for it, Wanyin – but you do have very loyal friends.”

Jiang Cheng blinked.

“Well, first your parents went to Lanling,” Nie Huaisang explained. “On account of Jin Zixuan and Mianmian very obviously sneaking food around and buying all sorts of things that you would like before smuggling them – very poorly and obviously, mind you – into Jinlin Tower, and of course they were also overheard talking about something that sounded an awful lot like ‘Wanyin’; everyone assumed they were hiding you. Turns out they weren’t, of course; it was just a stray dog they’d named something with similar tones. Not their fault everyone got the wrong idea!”

Jiang Cheng’s eye twitched.

“And then, of course, they went to Gusu, on account of Lan Wangji telling everyone you were his sworn brother –”

“His what?!”

“Well, close enough. On account of how you saved his life.”

“I did not!”

“I thought I heard something about how you carried him on your back as you fled from the Xuanwu’s cave and the Wen sect’s ambushes, when he was exhausted and could not walk,” Nie Mingjue said mildly, and Jiang Cheng spluttered. “Had I heard wrongly?”

“…well, no…but...”

“Of course, you weren’t at Gusu,” Nie Huaisang continued, ignoring them both. “Though there were some heavy implications for a little while that you’d gone off with Lan-gongzi –”

“Isn’t he missing?”

Nie Mingjue coughed and looked down at his plate.

“And none of you said anything?” Jiang Cheng asked, looking between them. “At any point? Did you just, what, not talk to them?”

“I have spoken with your parents several times since they have started looking for you,” Nie Mingjue said, and his voice was suddenly hot with roiling anger. “I have concluded that Huaisang had a point regarding the necessity of their learning how to ask for your return.”

Jiang Cheng blinked.

“Your parents are jerks,” Nie Huaisang volunteered. “And you deserve better.”

“Yes, thank you,” Jiang Cheng said, a little strangled. “I think I – got that.”

“Good.”

-

“It’s just, my jiejie –”

“Supports you being here. She sent you a care package. It’s in your room.”

“…Wei Wuxian –”

“Sent a note along with the package. Says to keep up the good work.”

“How did you even get something like that?!”

“I have my ways.”

-

Nie Huaisang was staring blankly at the wall when Jiang Cheng walked in and did a double take.

“Okay,” he said to Nie Mingjue, sitting patiently nearby with a letter in his hands. “You broke him. How?”

“He just discovered that he inadvertently saved a great deal of lives,” Nie Mingjue said. “As did you, by agreeing to come here.”

“I only agreed to come here because you lied and told me it was necessary to help defend my sect,” Jiang Cheng grumbled, clearly not meaning it.

Nie Huaisang let out a high-pitched and somewhat hysterical giggle.

“It was,” Nie MIngjue said solemnly, offering him the letter. “It appears that Wen Chao was given permission to attack and crush the Jiang sect, but has been delaying in anticipation of your return on account of wanting to deal with all of you at once. The delay allowed our spies time to discover his plans, and to carry warnings to your parents. They were thus able to fortify the Lotus Pier’s defenses against invasion, and to hold it off until aid could arrive – which they wouldn’t have managed if he’d attacked at once, as he would have if you’d been there.”

Jiang Cheng stared.

“Would you like to sit down and stare at the wall?” Nie Mingjue offered kindly.

“…yes please.”

-

“How’d you convince him to let me come here, anyway?” Jiang Cheng asked Nie Huaisang as he packed up his things. He was finally heading back to the Lotus Pier, albeit only long enough to collect soldiers and come back to join what they’d started calling the Sunshot Campaign – his parents had finally figured out where he was and sent word that had, in the view of the Nie, just barely qualified as sufficient to get some leeway.

Lan Wangji was waiting in the hallway to escort him there, and he’d sworn to Nie Huaisang that he would not allow either of Jiang Cheng’s parents to say anything untoward while they were there. He’d looked very serious while he said it, too, which pleased Nie Huaisang to no end and made Jiang Cheng look more than a bit nervous.

“You’re only asking that now?” Nie Huaisang asked, amused.

Jiang Cheng shrugged. “You going to tell me or not?”

“It was easy,” he said. “I just invoked Nie sect principle three.”

“…what’s that?”

“‘A fire burns all the same’,” Nie Huaisang said. “Variously interpreted as: ‘Treat your neighbor’s harm as your own’, ‘Do not stand idly by as your neighbor bleeds’, or ‘Indifference to evil is equivalent to evil’.”

Jiang Cheng stared.

“How about ‘if you see someone who needs you, you have an obligation to act’?”

Jiang Cheng blinked. “Okay,” he said. “And?”

“And what?”

“And what else did you say? You convinced him to literally kidnap the heir of another Great Sect; I can’t believe that you accomplished that simply by saying ‘hey principle three applies here, let’s do this’.”

“Maybe I did,” Nie Huaisang sniffed.

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. “Fine, keep your secrets. I’ll get them out of you one day.”

“Maybe you will,” Nie Huaisang said.

-

“Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang said. “If I wanted to keep Jiang Cheng permanently, what principle would I have to invoke for that?”

“Nineteen.”

“Nineteen?” Nie Huaisang frowned. “But, da-ge, principle nineteen is the one about marriage – oooooooh.”

#mdzs #nie huaisang #jiang cheng #nie mingjue #my fic #my fics #accurate description #wolveshowlatnight

[meat--grindr]

Ohh your writing is wonderful... I’ve actually never requested before so I hope get this right but: could I request Billy Lenz x Gender Neutral Reader (AFAB if it’s brought up) with Billy sucking on his partner’s fingers and discovering they are really, /really/ into it but also super embarrassed about it? Bastard-ness ensues. Hope this request is ok!

Okay? This is waaay more than okay! I’ve been so excited about this prompt since I received it! I’m so sorry for not getting to it earlier. I hope like six months later is better than never though! I’m also super excited to be your first request! I hope this lives up to your expectations, whatever they may have been!

Just a few general warnings beforehand: Billy is really rough with the reader he uses some extremely degrading language as per the canon (I’ve excluded the term ‘piggy,’ though, because I am NOT A FAN™ of that aspect of his dirty talk.) I want to specifically call to attention the liberal use of the terms ‘pussy’ and ‘cunt.’ The reader is never gendered with personal pronouns, but those words are used in reference to them and their anatomy several times. I am of the opinion that Mr. Lenz would use those terms regardless of what hole he’s using, but if they make you uncomfortable, maybe give this one a miss? Furthermore, I would like to mention that Billy is not a mentally well man (obviously) who has had a rather traumatic past with abuse, both of these are discussed within this fic, so please take care of yourselves and read this work responsibly if you want to read it at all. I don’t want anyone to be hurt by my writing because I didn’t warn them properly.

Also, this is my first time writing for Billy, so please forgive me if it takes a little while for me to get completely used to him. He’s a…unique fella, let’s say.

Editing Ripper’s Note: I was just about to post this when I realized I completely misread the prompt! I read it as the reader is really into sucking on Billy’s fingers, not the other way ‘round! I’ve been looking at this prompt, literally since December and still never caught on. I feel like a total idiot. I’m really sorry about that. I’ve decided to post this anyway because A) the kink is still there in the fic, just not exactly as requested, and B) I had already finished it by the time I noticed my mistake. So much time has passed and if the original requester is still keeping tabs on this blog, I don’t want to make them wait any longer. That being said, if you’d like me to write your request properly, please send me a message and I will do my best!

Mind Your Teeth – Billy Lenz (Gender Neutral* Reader) - NSFW

· Slick with sweat, your chest slides against the surface of your desk with each cruel snap of Billy’s hips. You can feel the laboured heaving of his chest against your back as he struggles for breath. It leaves his lips in ragged, staggering puffs, heavy and hot against your shoulder blade, accompanied every so often by the slick warmth of his saliva as it drips down onto your bare skin.

· Despite his gawky build, he manages to loom over you, folding you nearly in half against the desk. He’s made himself rather comfortable, sprawled over top of you. His chest presses against your back, boney ribs grinding against the knobs of your spine through the stiff, itchy fibers of his jumper. It’s sticking to your skin, soaked through in spots with sweat—yours and his—and you can feel it peeling up from your flesh with every movement he makes.

· He’s got you pinned, holding you down against the smooth wooden surface with little more than his weight. He’s surprisingly heavy, and though he doesn’t look it, Billy is a strong man—he’s more than capable both of lifting you off of the floor and pinning you down to it. He’s strong and his hands are by no means an exception to that rule. Though they may be long and thin, and they tremble whenever they hold you, his grip is nearly unbreakable. His clumsy fingers circle your wrists like iron fetters, dirty fingernails digging into the flesh of your forearms and cutting little crescents into the skin—just deep enough to sting. You can barely move beneath him—can barely breathe—and he knows this. He has you exactly where he wants you and you’re not going anywhere until he decides to let you.

· Another bruising thrust pitches you forward, and your knees bang against the desk drawers. You cry out, though whether it was for the dull ache in your legs or the sudden stab of pleasure between them, even you couldn’t say for certain. Though if there is any concern at all in Billy for your wellbeing, he’s certainly keeping it to himself. Your outburst only seems to egg him on, as his pace begins to take on a more frantic edge.

· His thrusts are shallow as he rocks into you—it’s as though he can’t bare to withdraw from the tight heat of your body for long. Dimly, through the fog of pleasure, you struggle to feel surprised. It’s all about instant gratification with Billy. Always has been—why should he tease himself or draw things out when he could just pry open your willing mouth and drag his cock against your tongue until he cums down your throat? Still, there is a force behind those thrusts—one which throws you up against the lip of the desk hard enough that you’re sure there will be a solid line of bruising along your midsection before the night is through. Every push of those hips shoves you forward a little more, until your head is nearly knocking against the wall and your toes barely touch the ground.

· Your cheek slides against a slick patch of wood and you realize you’ve been drooling across the desktop. The little puddle at the corner of your lips only grows in size as a particularly deep thrust from Billy wrings another string of wrecked whimpers from your throat. You wish you could pull away from the puddle—longing to drag the back of your hand across your cheek and wipe away the slickness, but there’s little you can do about it with Billy still holding your arms hostage. But at the same time, something about it thrills you—to be ruined like this—held still, unable to so anything but whimper, and drool, and take what you’re given. It’s…liberating.

· “C’mon, little bitch! Take my fat cock! You can t-t-take it better than that! Take it! Take-Take-Take it good for B-B-Billy!” He babbles into your shoulder, chapped lips scraping against your shoulder as he mouths at your flushed skin. His tongue flickers out, dragging a wet stripe against your skin, scorching hot, then suddenly too cool as it begins to dry in the open air.

· “Such a pretty pusssssy,” He slurs, “Pretty, pretty pusssssy. Gonna fill it up—gonna fill it with my fat ffffffucking cock!”

· You feel him jerk behind you, his muscles going taught as a violent spasm rolls through his body. When he speaks again, the voice that comes is not his own—it’s deeper, rumbling down in his chest, belonging to a man much larger than he, “Why I outta beat that boy! Beat him up good! Beat Billy bad! Beat him good! Beat him up, up, up!”

· His hips still and your heart leaps up into your throat, your pulse pounding hard in the tight space. This can’t be good. You squirm beneath him, trying and failing to turn your head. Your eyes roll wild in their sockets, desperate to get a good look at Billy, but he remains a shadow at the edge of your vision. You remember this voice. He had so many it was difficult to keep track of them sometimes—he’d mimic almost anything he heard; the children from down the road calling to one another while they played, the weatherman making predictions on the radio, even the neighbour’s cat. It was easy to forget which voices and phrases came from where once he’d picked them up and used them enough. But this is one that predates you, and you recognize it with a chilling clarity—the father’s voice: always angry, often violent.

· It frightens you when Billy uses it, though not because of the threat Billy poses to you. Of course, you know to tread carefully when he's in one of his moods—you’ve seen first hand the destruction wrought when his directionless frustration is given direction. But, you know this voice is a far more likely indicator that Billy is an imminent threat to himself. You’ve seen him pacing the floor like a caged animal, trembling hands beating about his head, tearing at his clothes and hair as he works through the frenzy, all the while babbling to himself in that deep, rumbling voice: “Rotten boy! Teach you a fucking lesson! Beat Billy! Bad Billy! Bad, Bad, Bad!” He's blackened his eyes, split his lips and knuckles, shattered countless plates and cut his hands on the shards. He loses himself in that voice, and that scares you.

· ‘Losing himself,’ that’s what you’ve come to call these episodes—those moments when his excitement and boundless energy curdle, souring into anxiety and agitation so quickly it makes you head spin. And in this moment, he’s displaying all the tell-tale sighs you’ve come to recognize—the full-body tremors, the angry voices, self-directed violence—mere threats or otherwise…

· No, this is not good. Of course, this isn’t the first time you’ve seen him do this, and you’re sure it would not be the last, but he’s never done it while you were…playing before. And that worries you. You’re both vulnerable, half-undressed and bent over a desk. Even worse, he was behind you. You’d learned very quickly never to let him out of your sight when he got like this. He was unpredictable—prone to lashing out whether he meant to or not. But he wasn’t beyond helping. If you could just turn your head and look at him—make him see you, help him to ground himself like you practiced, you might be able to talk him down, or at least ease him through the worst of it. Maybe. If you could only get a look at him.

· You flounder for your voice and struggle to keep it steady once you find it, “Hey, B-Billy? Billy, baby, you’re okay, right?” It’s an innocent question you usually begin with when he gets like this. Sometimes he’s too worked up to even begin to answer you, sometimes he tries so damn hard to answer, but can’t—not in a way you could really understand anyhow—and sometimes you can talk it through with him. Every time you try, the reaction is different. You can only cross your fingers and pray for a positive outcome.

· This time, he coughs. It’s a horrible, a horrible, racking sound that echoes in his chest—it’s almost closer to a scream than anything else. Another spasm jitters through him, the joint in his neck snapping loud in the darkness. You feel his forehead collide with your shoulder once, twice, then he stills. His flesh is clammy against yours, and the gentle brush of his hair makes your skin prickle, but he seems calmer. He barks a laugh—his own this time—and nuzzles against your back, smearing your skin with sweat and saliva. “Fuck!” He says, as though that explains everything.

· “Billy? Are you…alright?”

· He chirps like bird, three short bursts of whistling he’d picked up last spring when a robin mad made a nest on your windowsill, “Right as rain, rain, rain!”

· You’re left with a heady rush of confusion and relief as you realize he must have pulled himself out of the hole he’d almost fallen into. A little flicker of pride sparks to life in your chest. He’s come so far.

· Your concern melts away once again into pleasure as Billy jerks his hips. Keening high in the back of his throat, he fucks himself deeper into you. He drags his cock out slow, sounding for all the world as though he’d forgotten just how good it felt to fuck you—as though he hadn’t been doing just that not sixty seconds ago. He scrapes his teeth against your shoulder, the promise of a bite that will surely come and mark you for days. His fingers flex around your wrists, blunt nails biting deeper into your flesh as he falls back into that brutal rhythm.

· Your legs begin to shake as Billy’s cock bumps up against something a bit more sensitive inside of you. Your breath fogs against the surface of the desk as it heaves from your lungs, a thin mist that barely has the time to fade before the next heavy puff of air replaces it. You find yourself struggling to swallow the moans Billy’s working so hard to pull from you. You know how much he likes to hear you—how wild it makes him—and you know there’s no real need to be quiet, not with the dorm cleared out for the long weekend. Still, something—be it a force of habit from living in close quarters with thin walls, or simply your own embarrassment—keeps you quiet.

· “Fiiiilthy whore!” A growl, caught low in his throat, tears through the air between you, “Pretty pussy! Want it full! My cock, my cum…gonna fill it full!” Never at a loss for a string of vulgarities, Billy mumbles against your skin, his words slurring into one another until you can barely decipher one though from the other.

· “Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck!” Billy jerks his hips forward, and for the first time this evening, you feel the full length of his cock stretching you out. You jerk beneath him, mewling into the desktop, squirming about as you try desperately to relax around him. You’re so full—so full you can barely breathe, but it feels so good. Your muscles contract around him, unbidden, throbbing with the sudden stretch. It makes him shudder and sigh above you, a wavering rush of air than hisses out between his teeth.

· He holds you there for a moment, trembling almost as much as you are, “Tight fffucking cunt, so fucking tiiight for Billy!” His hips stutter forward in time with his ragged breathing. Desperately, he tries to fuck himself deeper into you, even though he can’t—he’s already buried to the hilt, his hips tucked snugly against your ass. But he gives it the old college try anyhow. He begins to babble nonsensically against your neck, “Ruin it, ruin it! Never take another cock! Full, full, full! I left it in the kitchen, Jan! Not after Billy’s! A low pressure system moving in and—fuck you full, fuck you full, full, full!”

· The tops of his thighs quiver as he grinds into you, and as he shifts, the head of his cock presses against something. For a moment, your vision goes white. Your legs seem to fall away beneath you, your knees drifting south as the pleasure carries away their ability to hold you upright any longer. If it weren’t for the desk, you probably would have slid down into a boneless heap on the floor.

· You gasp, mouth gaping wide, pulling in a great, deep lungful of air. To call his name? To beg him for more? To put wordless voice to your pleasure? You aren’t sure. There is little room in your brain for thought beyond the need for more. Mercifully, Billy saves you from the struggle before you can waste too much energy on it.

· Almost as soon as he realizes your mouth is open, Billy shoves his fingers into your mouth. Two boney digits slide against your tongue, pressing and prodding against the slick muscle. The taste of dust and salt floods your mouth with the intrusion. You wrinkle your nose, and try to pull your head back, but Billy leans down into you, pressing you down further beneath his weight, grinding your ribs into the desktop.

· “No, no, no,” He chides, voice soft and light—almost cheerful. He spreads his fingers apart, rubbing over the hard bumps of your bottom teeth with a tenderness you rarely see in him. “Gotta make room,” His voice rumbles through you as he presses his lips against your flesh, “Gotta stretch it out for Billy, or he won’t fit!”

· He nuzzles his cheek against your shoulder, still rocking his hips into you, pressing against that spot that makes your brain fill with television static, “Billy’s gonna fuck your throat once he’s filled that pretty pussy!”

· Your lips are pulled taught as his fingers press against the walls of your mouth, testing its limits. “Soft and warm! Wanna fuck it! Fuck it deep!”

· His hips buck hard, shoving you another inch toward the wall. You can feel yourself drooling around his fingers—your saliva dripping down your chin in great rivulets and collecting beneath your cheek.

· His knuckles bump against the roof of your mouth as the pads of his fingers find the back of your tongue. You gag around them, struggling to breathe, but Billy just laughs and presses down harder.

· “Again,” His voice comes out in a ragged puff of breath, half-whisper, half-growl, rough as rock salt, “Pussy gets tight when it chokes.”

· You try to suck in a shocked breath, but you can’t manage it around his fingers. Your throat convulses around him as you struggle to breathe.

· You feel his cock pulse inside of you and he groans his pleasure long and low into the darkness, “Yesssss!”

· He rocks into you again, “No one fucks like Billy, huh?” He pulls back, his cock nearly slipping from your body entirely, then he slams his hips home again, “No one fucks you full like Billy can! No one! No one! No one!” The phrase becomes a litany, each sentence punctuated with a bruising snap of his hips. “Know why?” He drags his teeth along the edge of your shoulder blade, “Know why?” You can hear the grin in his voice, wide and sharp, “‘Cuz Billy fills you up from both ends!”

· You sob around Billy’s fingers, your eyes rolling back as he pushes them deeper into your mouth. If he keeps on like this, it won’t be long before you fall apart around him—you want to cum so desperately, you can hardly keep another thought in your brain. Your muscles clench up around him and he laughs, giggling to himself as he hooks his chin over your shoulder. He can feel how close you are.

· His tongue slides against the side of your face, leaving a thick, wet stripe across your cheekbone. His lips scratch rough against your jaw, “Pretty pussy’s gonna cum? Gonna cum all over Billy’s fat fucking cock? Yeah?” His simpering tone makes your cheeks burn with embarrassment, but you nod. Another peal of sick laughter bubbles up in his throat, “You’re gonna cum and Billy’s not even trying! So dirty, dirty, dirty!”

· You whine around his fingers as he babbles on, “Billy could fuck you harder, but he doesn’t need to! Stupid, greedy pussy, silly fucking cunt can cum like this!” His teeth sink into your shoulder and the rest of his diatribe is lost to you. Even so, he continues to mumble filth against the skin caught between his teeth.

· The bite stings, bright and sharp, and you sob around him, clenching your jaw, your teeth digging into his fingers. Billy releases you with a hiss, dipping his head into the crook of your neck. You think for a moment you might have hurt him, but in mere seconds, he’s giggling to himself again. “Sharp, sharp teeth! No good. No, no good. Not for Billy’s cock. Gotta tear them out, make room for Billy!”

· Though you know the threat is mostly empty, the way Billy caresses your molars with the pad of his finger makes you a little nervous. You’re sure if he could get a good grip, he could easily ‘make room,’ and there was probably not much you could do to stop him. But he pulls his fingers back, retreating from the crushing press of your back teeth.

· He presses down against your tongue again, rubbing against the slick muscle fondly. “Need to practice! Greedy cunt needs to learn! Learn to suck Billy’s fat cock properly.” He snaps his hips, as though trying to remind you just how fat it really was—as though there was any change you could forget while it was rearranging your guts for you. “Gonna teach you to take it good!”

· Your eyes roll back at the thought. You can picture yourself kneeling under the desk, Billy draped over the chair, wild hair falling over his eyes as you try to take him all the way down to the base. He’d fuck your throat until your vision goes black, his fingers tangled deep in your hair, nails digging into your scalp. Your own fingers slide desperately between your thighs, chasing your release as he chases his own and god what you wouldn’t give to make the fantasy real—to feel the length of him in your mouth, the rough denim of his pants beneath your hands, the jerk and sting against your scalp as he tugs on your hair. Your cheeks hollow around Billy’s fingers, a pretty whine sitting high in the back of your throat.

· And Billy stops—stops moving, stops talking. He hovers above you, silent and still as a statue, barely breathing. A terrible moment of clarity washes over you and the embarrassment comes rolling in. There you were, still stretched out on Billy’s cock, barely moments away from an orgasm and you were already thinking about another? Were you really that desperate? Your cheeks burn hot against the cool wood of the desktop. Shame licks at the pit of your stomach—it wasn’t unlink Billy to think this way, he was always seeking the next shot of pleasure, but it wasn’t like you. As though it wasn’t bad enough to catch yourself thinking that way…for someone else to do it? It was mortifying…and maybe a little exciting too.

· Your stomach flips as Billy shifts behind you, the burgeoning stubble on his jaw scraping across your sensitive skin. Then you feel it, a smile spreading across his face—it’s a grin you’ve come to know well, all teeth and wide enough to make his jaw pop. Even without looking at him, you know you’re fucked.

· All at once, he lurches to life again, fucking his fingers hard into your mouth, in tandem with the harsh thrusts of his hips. A filthy string of gibberish falls from his lips as he pounds into you, “Greedy! Greedy cunt! Want it in your mouth too? Filthy, greedy fucking whore!”

· You whine, and choke, and sob around Billy’s fingers. Your face is wet with sweat, with spit, with tears, you can’t tell and at this point, you’re far beyond the point of caring. The world has narrowed to a single point between your legs as you teeter on the knife’s edge of your release. You rock your hips back against Billy, meeting his thrusts, desperate for more. You’re so, so close, and Billy can feel it too—the way you tighten around him spurring his pace from wild to frantic.

· His voice is broken, his words panted out between jagged breaths and garbled moans, “Gonna be good for Billy? Gonna cum?” His face is buried in the crook of your neck. He giggles against your flesh as he splits you open, slamming into you like it’s the last fuck he’ll ever have. “C’mon, take what Billy gives you! Take it, take it, t—ta—fuuuck!”

· Your hips stutter as your orgasm throbs through you. You scream around his fingers as you cum, your muscles clamping down around Billy so hard he almost has to stop moving, rolling his hips forward quick and shallow. His howl is lost in the sound of blood rushing in your ears, but you can feel it vibrating through his chest, and down into your back. Your fingers scrabble at the wood beneath you, desperate for something to latch onto—to keep you grounded here as the pleasure threatens to carry you away.

· You sob and slump limp against the desk, letting it bear the brunt of your weight. There’s just no strength left in your body anymore. Your hands and feet tingle with the lingering aftershocks of the adrenaline as you begin to come down from your high, and your breath comes hard, as though you’ve run a great distance. Billy’s hips continue to snap against yours, brutal and quick. You sob into his fingers, the as the relentless pleasure sparks through you, nearly painful to your sparking nerves.

· Slowly, as your ears stop ringing, you realize Billy is still talking, babbling away in several voices. “Like your pussy tight like this. Wanna fuck you full while you cum again and again and again and I told you, Jan, I left it in the kitchen! Make you soaked, keep you soaking wet, make you fucking cry! Where is that cat? Where’s that cat? Where’s the…WHERE’S THE BABY, BILLY?! AGNES? WHERE’S AGNES, BILLY?! Beat that kid! Teach him a lesson! BEAT HIM UP GOOD!”

· His left hand shoots up from your arm and wraps around your throat, fingers flexing around your windpipe, not quite squeezing, yet, but the pressure is far from comfortable.

· “T-T-Teach rotten old Billy a lesson.” A spike of fear shoots through you and you choke around his fingers. This seems to bring his mind back, at least in part, to the present, or at least confuse him enough to serve as a distraction—he makes a noise caught between two voices. The fear that courses through you lends new strength to your limbs as you reach up and claw at his fingers.

· As you attempt to pry him lose, his grip only tightens, fingers locking around your windpipe, “Teach that boy a FUCKING lesson!” The knobby joints of his fingers press hard against the pulse in your throat and you’re sure he can feel it hammering beneath your skin. He’s losing himself again, you’re sure.

· But again, this time was different. He hadn’t stopped fucking his cock into you like he had before, and he’d wavered for a moment, when you’d choked on him. There might be something else you could do to help him. Desperate to keep him here with you in the present moment, you flex your tongue against his fingers. His hips stutter and your heart skips a beat in turn. “Filthy fucking c-c-cunt…”

· You bob your head, hollowing your cheeks around his fingers again. C’mon, Billy!

· “F-Fuck!” It’s not quite his voice, but it’s close, perhaps a little higher, a little more strained than usual, but it’s close. “Where’s the baby, Billy? Where’s the…c-c-cat gone to now?” His fingers begin to relax around your throat, but you keep sucking on his fingers, wanting to make sure you’re well and truly out of the woods before you even think about stopping. If this is going to work, you’re going to make damn sure of it.

· “Fucking greedy little cunt!” You could have cried with relief at the sound of his voice—his real voice. You hum around his fingers, and he laughs, the sound low and rumbly, “Still so fucking eager.” His hips buck forward, pressing deep inside of you. It’s still too much, too soon, and you sob with the overstimulation. The sudden spike of pleasure punches the air from your lungs and shakes your legs from underneath you.

· Billy groans as you pulse around him. “You want Billy to cum? Wand Billy to fucking fill you?” You nod frantically, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as he grinds into that spot, filling your vision with white hot splotches of light.

· “Suck his cock, then,” he says, shoving his fingers deeper into your mouth again. He spreads them wide, nearly matching the girth of his cock where it fucks you open. Billy jitters behind you, chasing his release with quick, cruel thrusts. Impatient as always, he pushes digs his nail into the wall of your cheek, “Fucking suck Billy’s cock!”

· You jerk into motion as though startled from a deep sleep, pressing your head down against his fingers to take them as deep as you could. Your tongue laves against the digits, prodding gently against his scarred knuckles, playing in the space between them.

· Billy throws his head back, moaning to the ceiling long and loud, “Yessss! Good little pet! Pretty, pretty pet! His fingers stroke your throat as though he’s petting a cat, feeling it work up and down as you swallow around him. “Gooood pet! Suck Billy’s cock! Suck his cock! Su—NO!”

· Suddenly, he stops, his fingers stilling. For a moment, you think you’ve done something wrong. Had your teeth caught against him? Had you hurt him? Should you pull back and ask, or carry on? Before you can make a decision one way or another, Billy thrusts his fingers back into your throat, pressing them in as deep as he could. His knuckles bump against your back molars as you gag around him, trying desperately to breathe through your nose.

· “Lick Billy’s cunt,” For a moment, you’re still, confusion slicing through the pleasure. Billy tries to press his hand forward, his fingertips brushing against the back of your throat, “Lick it! Lick Billy’s cunt! Lick it! Lick it! Tongue his fffffucking clit!” You think about it for a moment, your exhausted, lust-fogged brain struggling to put two and two together, and then suddenly you think you understand. As gingerly as you can, while Billy continues to rock you forward over the desk, you press your tongue against the soft spot between his knuckles.

· This must have been what he’d wanted because the sound he makes is like nothing you’ve ever heard before—a wail caught somewhere between human and animal. You’ve never heard a human sound like that before. Like so many things about Billy, it’s frightening, and yet it fascinates you, attracts you, arouses you. You press your tongue harder against that spot, and the frantic rocking of his hips picks up again—but this time there’s no rhythm to it. He’s close.

· “Fucking lick Billy’s clit, make him cum! Make him cum in your pretty pussy!” You lap at his flesh with quick, deliberate swipes of your tongue. He howls against your flesh, his forehead thudding against your shoulder heavy and hard. “Fuck, f-f-f-fuck, make Billy fucking cum! Billy’s gonna, he’s-he’s-he’s gonna—!”

· In the moment before he cums everything is calm. He stills, and his voice is soft and steady in your ear; “I’m going to ruin you.”

· Then the world falls back into chaos.

· His whole body shudders above you, a bag of jangling bones he couldn’t keep control of if his life had depended on it. His teeth fix themselves deep into your shoulder, slotting into the indentations they’d left not long before. You cry out around his fingers, sure he’s drawn blood this time. You can see it when you close your eyes, visions of thick red blood splattered against his dark incisors floating against the dark inside of your eyelids.

· He shudders, momentarily stilling, then kicking back into motion, seemingly unable to deicide if he’d rather pound you through his orgasm or remain still, buried to the hilt in your tight heat. You feel the heat of him inside of you pulsing against your walls as he cums. His cheek is pressed tight against your shoulder gibbering a collection nonsensical sounds and snatches of obscenities into your flesh, “Pretty pink cunt! ah, ahhhh, fuuh—fuuuh—fuck! Dripping now! Where did you leave it? Left it fucking dripping!"

· You’re sore beyond belief from the pounding you’ve taken, but there’s still a throbbing want underneath. He’d dragged you most of the way to a second orgasm, now all you needed was a little push. Before you were completely at is mercy, able only to receive the pleasure he decided to give you. But now, your hands were free and with them you could do as you pleased. You wriggle beneath him, slipping your hands down between your thighs.

· Your fingers find their prize, and you sob, your whole body jerking forward. Even though you’d cum mere moments ago, you can’t believe how sensitive you are. You’re on the verge of orgasm almost immediately. You press harder the slide of your fingers aided both Billy’s cum and your own. You shudder, whimpering around his fingers. Your muscles clamp down on him once again, throbbing and pulsing as your orgasm builds.

· He hooks his finger inside of your cheek and pulls, “Wanna cum again. Wanna cum in your mouth,” He pulls harder exposing the sides of your teeth, “Billy wants to feel them! Feel them on his cock! Sharp and hard.” He laughs, “But Billy likes it hard.” The harsh snap of his hips that follows has you seeing spots. He opens his mouth as though to gloat, as you clench around him, he loses his words. Whimpering, soft and broken sounds against your neck, he grinds into you.

· Seconds later, you clamp down around him, a second orgasm shooting through you. The sound he makes as you cum on his oversensitive cock is nothing short of feral. He bucks wildly into you, seeking more of a pleasure that sounds almost painful as he sobs into your shoulder. His cock pulses inside of you again, throbbing as he fucks his cum deeper inside of you, as though intent on giving you more.

· And you’re sure he would. Or he would have, if you hadn’t reached back and pushed against his shoulder. He was insatiable—he’d keep going for hours unless you stop him now.

· He pulls his fingers out first, a pearly string of saliva connecting your lips to his fingertips. You cough, scratchy and wet, but when you speak, there’s no pain. “I…I just need a little break, Bills. Okay?” Your chest is heaving as you struggle for air. Billy hums above you, hesitating for a moment. He’s reluctant to give up the tight heat of your body. But at last, after nearly a full minute of grumbling and mumbling to himself, he pulls out.

· There's a sticky gush of fluids against your thigh as his cum beings to leak out of you. You rest there for a moment, the pair of you breathing hard in the darkness, the comfortable weight of his body pressing down above you, the solid plane of the desktop below. Then all of a sudden, you’re being lifted up. You squeal in shock as your flipped about and placed atop the desk. The surface is still cool against your heated flesh. The difference in temperature is a shock to your system and goosebumps break out across your arms and legs.

· Before you have a moment to process what’s happening, Billy’s head is between your thighs, his tongue lapping at mess he’d made. Your eyes go wide, and you head knocks against a wall as it falls back, “Fuuuuck, Billy!” Your hips cant up against his face, thighs squeezing tight around his ears.

· “Pretty pussy came twice already,” You can feel him smirking against your inner thigh. “Still wants more? Greedy, greedy, greedy.” You catch a glimpse of his eyes, wide and wild, shining in the darkness beneath is tangled hair, “It’s okay, Billy likes you greedy.”

#billy lenz x reader #billy lenz x you #slasher x reader #slasher imagines #ripper fics #hey everyone! #i really hope i caught all the errors #if not you didn't see them-i'll get them soon enough #please enjoy and my apologies again for getting the prompt wrong

[shadowsinger11]

Young Remus Lupin for the Nsfw headcanon please!🥰

Another one which I'm excited to wrote about!

Young Remus Lupin NSFW Headcanons

Remus has been living in the shadow of his werewolf form all his life; he doesn't consider himself attractive, much less a potential romantic partner. He doesn't feel loveable.

This is a reason as to why whenever he happens to have a crush (which doesn't even happen that often), he forces himself to suppress his romantic and sexual desires instead of asking out the object of his love. He simply doesn't feel good enough to date anyone and never made the first step.

However, when you came into his life, things changed.

Remus hadn't had developed a true connection with any of his past crushes, considering he was never really friends with them in the first place.

But with you it all just came so natural. The study sessions at the library, the late night talks at the Astronomy tower, the walks in the school yard during free period - it really came so natural that Remus could only wonder where you had been all his life.

But, as time went on, Remus found himself becoming exceptionally attracted to you in more aspects than he'd think.

His heart would run a mile every time you'd smile at him and his cock would twitch in his pants whenever you'd subconsciously lick your lips.

Remus hated himself for having feelings for you, he didn't want them to get in the way of your friendship and potentially ruin it.

But boy, would he go insane whenever he'd sense your arousal from a few feet away. Remus did feel guilty for being able to do that, but he was more guilty for actually enjoying knowing how needy you were. Because he was needy for you too.

Although he wouldn't admit it, Remus spent a lot of time jerking off to the thought of you in his dorm whenever his roommates were at Quidditch practice. He couldn't help it, you were just so desirable and extremely fuckable.

Speaking of which, whenever you were ovulating, he'd just know. He'd know this and he'd itch to simply strip you of your clothing right then and there and get inside you. Remus wasn't sure if this was the wolf within him speaking or not, but he certainly did have a breeding kink.

Fortunately for you both, this was never a problem when you got together, because wizard protection would usually be taken in the form of a potion right before the act. Meaning Remus was free to fill you up entirely without any consequences.

Things would get exceptionally heated near full moon and so would his kinks.

Remus would be very afraid of accidentally hurting you during that time but he never did; he's simply that good of a person no matter what.

But Full Moon Remus™️ was the one you could count on to have your guts rearranged.

He'd be so into taking you from behind, pounding into you and filling you up until you came over and over again, and became an exhausted panting mess.

This Remus could go for many rounds and would take you in many different positions within one night.

Face down on the mattress? Check. Fucking you into the mattress? Check? 69 on the mattress? Check.

You guys need a new mattress.

Remus was easily the most polite guy ever but if he lets his wolf take over? You better free your following week of arrangements because you're having sore thighs and core for sure.

One of his most common fantasies during masturbating would be eating you out, no doubt.

Once his wolfish appetite awakens, you're basically stuck with your legs wrapped around his head for hours, whimpering his name in ecstasy as his tongue forces an orgasm after an orgasm out of you. By the time he's finished with you, you're a sweaty, panting mess of dishevelled hair and juices flowing down your thighs. Remus takes pleasure in gently licking them off of you afterwards.

Needless to say that Remus can be pretty rough, but this doesn't change the fact that he's a literal sweetheart. He would never intentionally hurt you and he'd only go rough if you specifically wish him to.

If he did happen to accidentally hurt you, he'd be extremely apologetic, fussing around to make sure you get everything you need. And that's where his precious chocolate comes to play. Remus always has some left to give you after sex, both because it's delicious and you need energy, and because he wants to make it up to you for being rough.

Fuck, I need a Remus right now🥵

Likes don't help me grow, please reblog my work!

Masterlist

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x reader smut #remus lupin x reader fluff #remus lupin headcanons #remus lupin headcanon #remys lupin smut headcanons #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine

[kaepop-trash]

Going for one of those touchless car wash drive thrus and betting with johnny who can make the other cum faster 🙈

I’m hitting that area again where I hate everything I write. But my new year’s resolution was to not be stagnated by my need for perfection. So I am posting this. I hope you like it.

-

"Between this ice cream and my coffee," She snorted, the melting ice cream making her gurgle. "I'm going to be so jittery by the time we get home." She lifted her head to stop any ice cream from coming out of her mouth while she spoke.

Johnny laughed, resisting the urge to turn to look at her while he took a turn at an intersection. "Why did you get both?" He questioned. There was a pause, and the slowly moving traffic gave him the opportunity to turn to look at her. Ice cream on one corner of the mouth, she stared out of the windshield with deep contemplation.

"You know." She turned to look at Johnny, "I'm not so sure." She confessed.

Johnny bit back a smile.

"I just." She clicked her tongue, "The sign outside the ice cream store said labour weekend cherry, blueberry ice cream and you know how much I love cherries." Johnny gave her a nod that made her grin.

"But then you also got the piping hot coffee from the store beside it that is now getting cold." He looked towards the untouched cup that sat beside his half finished one in the cup holder.

She stared at the cup for a second, grinding her teeth. Then she shook her head, "It's fine." She reassured with an affirmative nod, taking a spoonful of her ice cream. "I can indulge in both." She mumbled with the spoon in her mouth. “If the coffee gets a little cold, it is what it is.” She shrugged.

Johnny gave her a soft chuckle, warmth spreading in his chest from the content smile on her face.

When they stopped at another light, a touch of cold against his lips made Johnny push back with a jerk. He turned to find her sticking her ice cream spoon close to his lips.

"Have some." She offered. She stuck the spoon closer, the cold ice cream rubbing off on his lip. She bit back a smile.

He parted his lips and licked the little bit off his lip before wrapping them around the spoon. When her exhale came out sharper than either of them anticipated, he turned to lock his eyes with her, smirking against the spoon. She dragged the spoon out, his bottom lip tugging against it.

"It's nice." Johnny mumbled. “I’ll just get the car washed and we’ll go home okay?” Johnny asked when he remembered the task he had set for today.

She turned back to her cup and hummed, the sound voicing her distraction clearly. Johnny grinned to himself.

"Another spoon?" She questioned and Johnny hummed, not looking away from the road. 

"Last one though." He tilted his head towards her a little as she reached out with a spoonful of ice cream. "We have to go to that office barbecue tonight and I don't want to get too comfortable. Once this long weekend is over, it's back to the gym." He sighed, taking a bite of the ice cream and humming pleasantly.

She chuckled, "It's good right?" Johnny nodded, a grin forming on his lips. "Don't worry about exercising now.” She groaned, “I'm the only one who sees you naked anyway." She scoffed, "I hope." She added the jab.

Johnny grinned at the road, "There's also the physician who does my annual physical. Need to keep her impressed." He teased. They finally drove into the carwash after making their way through the holiday traffic.

"Why? Did your firm stop giving you healthcare?" She raised a brow. 

Johnny laughed with raw delight, his eyes turning into upturned commas. "You know I always aim to please." He turned to her and winked. 

She scoffed with disbelief, "Where was this attitude when Haechan stayed over a few weeks back and you literally wouldn't let him sleep." She clicked her tongue.

Johnny opened his mouth in shock, trying to hold back a smile. "You're the one who can't keep quiet!" He protested. “I pleased you just fine.” He reminded her, "The poor guy had to go live with Mark because of just how pleased you were. Something Mark wasn't happy about I assure you." He said the words like he was talking about the weather, with conversational ease.

She gasped loudly, "I am not loud! You knew exactly what you were doing, Johnny Suh.” Johnny laughed as if to confirm her accusations.

“I don’t know what you mean.” He shrugged, reaching for his cup.

“No?” She narrowed her eyes. “Am I not with a man who enjoys being a whore with the possibility of spectators?” 

Johnny choked on his coffee, making her laugh. She also reached out to rub his back, with a wince and a mumbled apology when he kept coughing. He gave her a look that was somewhere between humour and defeat.

“Are you okay?” She tried to swallow her giggles unsuccessfully. “You know I’m right.” She added with a softer voice.

Johnny took a deep breath after his coughs subsided, letting out a short laugh. “You’re going to kill me, (Y/N).” He smiled, resting his head against his seat. 

The car in front of theirs finally moved inside for its wash to begin.

“I can’t believe you called me a whore.” Johnny chuckled.

“I believe you’ve called me worse.” She reminded him.

Johnny shrugged, “That’s fair. And I guess I am your whore, so it’s not untrue.” He smirked.

She hummed, “Good boy.” The look he gave her made her curl her lips and her toes together.

She turned away from his sudden charged gaze, “This is going to take forever, Johnny. I want to go home and take a nap.” She whined.

“Your nap can wait.” He responded, his brows creasing when he realised something, “You woke up at noon, why do you want a nap?” He sat back in his seat and raised a brow at her.

“Do I?” She rubbed her cheeks against palm.

She shrugged, finally finishing her ice cream and reaching for her coffee. “Why not?” She made a face at the cup, the now room temperature coffee tasting borderline unpleasant. “Your office parties always go on too long and your boss always refuses to let you leave. I’m using this week to catch up on sleep so don’t question it.” She grumbled, a soft pout forming on her face. She stretched in her seat like the conversation reminded her that she was tired, yawning softly. The action illiciting affection in him.

Johnny gave her a tender stare, “We always leave any social gathering the moment your battery runs out.” He reminded her, reaching out to stroke her hair. “You even have a signal.” He smiled when she nuzzled into his touch.

Johnny hummed and nodded, “You tug on my sleeve and sit against me.” He laughed softly, remembering all the times it happened. “It’s very cute.”

She gave him a cheeky grin, “I am adorable, yes.” 

Johnny laughed. When their car finally moved towards the wash she let out a sigh of relief.

“I’m hungry.” She mumbled, reaching up to tug at his fingers and play with them mindlessly as she turned to frown at the slowly proceeding queue.

“You’re a lot of things today, it seems.” Johnny pestered.

She turned to him with another pout, “Don’t sass me.” She scolded him with a finger pointed at his chest. She let go of his hand, making him pout this time from disappointment. She sat up in her seat with new-found energy, “You know that fish we had last month? With lemon preserve I think?” Johnny nodded, remembering the anniversary dinner well, every part of it. “I’m craving it so bad!” She whined again. 

Johnny bit his lips as the spray of soap covered the car in spuds.

“I’ll make you a deal.” He whispered slowly, the low rumble of his voice making heat pool in her stomach— a conditioned response.

“What?” Her voice dropped in its volume too, turning to his indulgent smirk.

“Come here.” He spread his legs wider on the seat.

She groaned, the sound one of defeat. Sitting up, she gingerly moved across to do what he asked. “Whore.” She mumbled.

“Johnny.” She wanted her voice to sound like a warning, but the breathless hush that came out instead did everything but mediate the tension building in the car. 

It was truly hard to resist him.

Johnny hummed, “The one who cums first buys lunch alright? If you win we can get the fish. If I win, I'm craving a good burger.” She nodded, eyes fluttering shut as he ran his fingers through his hair. “We have to be fast though, princess.” A soft laugh left him as she nodded dutifully, reaching out to undo his pants. “They might ban me from getting my car washed here if we get caught and the other place ruined the car’s paint the one time I went there.” Johnny’s head fell back when she grabbed his shaft, a groan dissolving the last of his words.

“Stop talking about your car.” She huffed, “I thought you were in a hurry.” She tilted his head back with her other hand in his hair, reaching down to kiss his jaw.

“Take off your shorts.” He tugged on the band with a finger.

She smiled against his neck, “This is a competition, baby.” She cooed. “What makes you think I’m going to make this easier for you? Work with what you have, Johnny.”

“Such a wretched girl,” Johnny huffed. “Fine.” Johnny groaned, dragging his finger to the buttons of her shorts and flicking it open, “I’m perfectly capable of doing this with a hand.” It was a challenge, his eyes oozed it as he kept them focused on her eyes and put two fingers into his mouth. He licked them with precision, the other on her back pulled her closer. 

She bit down on her lip, clenching around nothing. “I would have done that for you.” She licked her lips. Johnny smiled, popping the fingers out of his mouth.

He was, without a shadow of a doubt, right about his single hand being very capable; but she wasn’t in the mood to lose. She gripped him tight and Johnny winced, bucking up from the seat. In retaliation, Johnny took the liberty of plunging two fingers deep inside her. Her legs twitched, a loud groan leaving her lips. She increased her pace immediately, the car filling with sounds that made her blush.

“Shit.” Johnny breathed out. “Look at how you’re clenching around me, (Y/N). Reminds me of the first time I fucked you with my fingers.” He hummed against her forehead. She mewled at the memory, clenching tighter around his fingers. “I was already whipped for you then.” He sighed when she rubbed circles on his tip.

“Fuck.” She breathed out, his words seemingly more effective than his masterful fingers. She did remember that time, almost too well. The memory of the humid car and the tropical heat making her hips buck. Johnny let out a victorious chuckle.

She bit down on his ear, making him twitch in her hand as she expected. “Come one, Johnny.” She urged with a delicate whisper, “Don’t hold back.” She winced when he curled his fingers inside her as punishment for her coaxing. She kept up her persistence anyway, “You’re the one who loves this don’t you? Knowing someone can catch us like this any moment.” She poked her tongue out, leaving a kitten lick on the shell of his ear. Johnny groaned in response, the sound vibrating in her chest and making her certain that she would either lose the bet or go insane trying to win.

“Yes.” Johnny confessed. She shivered at the ease he did it with.

“What is it about it?” She questioned. The car moved forward to get washed down— the last step of the process. The sudden jerk forward made her chest slam into his. His fingers pushed further in at the jerk, making her moan loudly.

She took a deep breath, “Do you want people to watch? Want them to see what you do to me?” She hummed, the words forced through her teeth.

Johnny put his head against the seat, a sigh leaving his lips. Moment’s later she felt his release coat her fingers, looking down with a victorious smile.

“If you cum now, I’ll let you fuck me tonight."

"Shit." Johnny groaned at her words.

"Surely make a party with finance people more fun, huh?” She giggled. She was pumping him so fast now that his own fingers faltered inside her, something she would have complained about if she wasn’t so focused on winning the bet this time.

“That was cheating.” He groaned, she looked back up at his devastatingly handsome face, laced in the aftermath of her work. He took shallow breaths, lips parted and one eye looking at her.

“That was negotiating.” She leaned forward to peck his lips, pulling back to take in the fucked out look on his face. He pulled his fingers out with a wet pop, a soft mewl leaving her lips from the sudden emptiness.

“You don’t deserve to cum for being conniving.” He was still panting, pulling her closer to kiss her. She whined against his lips at the punishment, smacking his chest when she pushed back. “We’re also out of time.” He whispered against her lips. On cue the loud buzz sounded, signalling the end of the wash.

“Fine.” She sighed, pulling off his body and sitting back on the passenger’s seat. She turned to look at him, making sure his eyes were on her, then she licked her fingers clean of his release with lazy precision.

“Fuck.” The word stuttered out of his lips as he tucked himself back into his jeans.

“I told you I was hungry.” She hummed against her fingers.

“You’re making it real tough to think about lunch when you do that.” He mumbled.

“Good.” She gave him an innocent smile, “Let’s go, we’re done.” She pointed at the now visible street at the end of the wash. “I earned that fish.”

-

Send me an ask about a character from one of my fics in a scenario and I'll write a drabble.

Character from: Unintended Consequences

#johnny smut #johnny scenarios #miscellaneous #unintended consequences #nct scenarios #nct johnny #nct smut #johnny au #nct au #kpop smut #kpop scenarios #nct imagines

[wizkiddx]

ruining the plan isn't always so bad

you can tell whenever I have really important things to be doing in my life - bcos instead I will spend hours writing for no apparent reason ah kmn ;///

tomhollandxreader - pure fluffffff

Summary: tried to base off when Dom and Sam surprised Tom shooting a couple of years back- but this time they got Y/n with them too

(I don't own the pic nor claim to ...idk how to do this crediting bit sorry :/)

The plan was in place. Tom was really struggling with homesickness on set of his newest film. No real reason why; just long hours, living out of a hotel room, half the world away from ‘home’. Harry was always flying out to join Tom as his ‘assistant’ however after a pretty heart-wrenching phone call Tom had made to Y/n, while she was hanging around with Haz and Harry at the Holland’s house... the plans had changed somewhat. He just seemed so distant and run down, when Nikki got her turn on the  phone she instantly knew that they had to do something. Naturally then, putting her superior organising skills to good use she arranged for Dom, Sam and Y/n to accompany Harry to Atlanta; and surprise Tom there. 

The way the last minute booking happened meant that Harry, Sam and Dom were all flying out on the same flight (though Harry was in first class, while the surprise guests were in economy). Y/n, because of her university timetable, couldn’t leave till a bit later, so was on a plane 2 hours after the Hollands - it wouldn’t make that much difference and if anything would prolong the joy of the excitement for Tom. They, meaning Harry who was oddly invested in the intracacies and details, had been brainstorming different ways to do the reveal- not sure whether to just do it in the hotel when Harry would be meeting Tom anyway, or waiting and surprising him when they were out for dinner or in a bar. Eventually they’d decided it would just be easier to have Harry, Dom and Sam just meet him at the hotel- then take him out to dinner, allowing time for Y/n’s later expected time of arrival, where she would then appear at the restaurant. 

Ever since Harry had let Tom know that he’d landed (if half an hour late), Tom had been excitedly texting him back constantly. The pair had agreed that Tom would simply meet him in Harrys hotel room when he got back from set. Yet when the time came, Sam and Dom were hiding just further down the corridor- waiting in the corridor. From their hideaway a couple of metres down the way from Tom and Harry, the obvious exctiement they could hear when Tom arrived and the two reunited warmed Dom’s heart. He just loved his sons all being so close- it was perhaps what  he was most proud of as a parent. Especially after witnessing both Harrison and Y/n loose a parent, he knew if god forbid anything happened to him and Nikki - they had each others backs completely. Sam was excitedly shifting from foot to foot hearing his brothers - Dom just subtly shook his head at the endearing nervous energy, clearly Sam was impatient for his turn. The idea was Sam would knock first then Dom, so after allowing a short time of just Tom and Harry reuniting, Sam pranced down the hallway and knocked. Yet it wasn’t Tom who flung the door open to Sam as per the scheme, instead his fuzzy haired twin.

“Harry what the fuck” Sam mouthed, daring to glance over his shoulder to attempt to spot Tom - annoyed at his brother for getting in the way.

“He’s on the shitter, change of plan bring Dad in.” Harry whisper-explained, making Sam roll his eyes at Tom unintentionally ruining his own surprise, before retreating to the hallway and beckoning his dad in. Dom pulled an equally bemused face until Harry filled him and he chuckled - earning him a harsh shush from both boys as they sat on the bed, facing the toilet door.

“So why did it take you so long to get here?” Tom asked through the thin loo wall, while Harry pushed his dad to sit further over on the bed.

“Oh ermm….they had some mix up with the luggage so we” Immediately getting slapped on the leg by his twin with a piercing glare,  Harry corrected himself “I mean -I had to wait for like an hour and a half to get my suitcase. Then I think I had the worst taxi driver in the world like down country roads and all.”

“Yeh like that drive should take like 40 minutes I thought? But when you texted me saying just left” He paused as the sound of the toilet flushing and the sink turning on flooded through the room ”that must’ve been at least an hour ago”

“I guess” Harry replied, hearing the tap turn off while Sam ran his fingers through his hair yet again - an excited or nervous tick.

“So how is everyone? I tried to call Dad and Y/n today but-“ The door opened, the stream of light flooding into the main room. Tom stopped dead in his tracks, voice cutting off but mouth hanging agape, still clutching onto the doorhandle. 

“Hello son” 

Dom spoke softly as he stood up from his choreographed position on the bed. Only at his words did Tom believe this was actually reality and literally sunk to his knees at the boundary between the ensuite and bedroom. He was awash with pure emotion, mainly relief - this was the exact thing he really needed right now. His dad soon pulled him up and hugged him, Sam following close behind. Tom’s reaction was priceless, the few tears being more than enough of a tell to his family how much he had needed this. 

It was an emotional reunion, there was a hell of a lot of hugs and suddenly the 14 hour journey was so worth it to Dom and Sam. Afterwards, they just all sat together on the bed and caught up on each others lives, Tom not really wanting to speak about himself - much preferring to hear all their stories from home about his mum and grandparents and the family that live down the road. He loved the normalcy of it. 

That was until a voice grabbed the attention of the whole room and Harry inwardly and silently cursed himself - in all the excitement he’d left his phone on silent in his jacket pocket, which was hanging on the coat rack so he hadn’t even heard it vibrate.

“Harry pick up your phone!” An exasperated voice exclaiming from the hallway half caught the Hollands’ attention, their heads all spinning in unison to the wooden hotel room door. It started to jerk open as Y/n wrestled with her suitcase ”You’ve left your hotel room open you div.Anyway I’m just dropping my case in your room so please text me where to go because - ugh- because right now you could all be anywhere in Atlanta and I-” 

The conversation within the room had died- all of them watching the petite brunette fight her way past the door with a silver suitcase that seemed ridiculously large and heavy for a weeks holiday. She had pressed her phone to her ear using her right shoulder and was wearing beige tracksuits a white crop top and a black leather jacket - as she grunted in frustration at the case, yanking it unceremoniously over the threshold. Subtly, Sam looked up at Tom, seeing his brothers eyes widen in shock, whole body turned completely rigid and Sam had to smile smugly - it was actually quite cute, even if he would never admit it to their faces. Y/n only stopped speaking into the receiver when her eyes finally darted into the room - noticing she had an audience. 

“Oh.” 

She stopped herself, pressing the end call button and pocketing her phone, whilst moving into the centre of  the room. She shot an apologetic smile to Harry, knowing she’d technically ‘ruined’ his plan - though to be fair it wasn’t her fault he didn’t answer the phone; or that his flight had been delayed meaning he didn’t get Tom to the resturaunt at the agreed time. Actually she could blame it all on Harry. He just rolled his eyes back at her whilst she looked past him and onto the shellshocked face of her boyfriend. 

Not being able to hide her grin, she halted at the foot of the bed, meanwhile Tom leant forward from the headboard - his eyes not leaving her. “You gonna say hi or am I just gonna stand here?” Y/n smirked, Tom still not moving from his shellshocked stance. Slowly her smirk morphed to a concerned look, eyebrows drawn inwards, as her look darted between Dom and Tom. 

“Tom are you okay?” she tried speaking gently, but before she could push anymore he launched himself off the sofa and into her arms, Y/n barely staying upright. Then Tom started spinning her round and round all the while squeezing her as tightly as possible. Y/n squealed an ‘I love you’  into his ear , already knowing Tom wasn’t ready to talk yet- instead just pressing his face closer into her neck. After a short while Tom lowered her to the ground and pulled away enough for Y/n to see the smudged tears around his eyes. She cupped his cheeks in her hands and looked deep into his mahogany brown eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“I am now” he nodded jerkily, all the while inching his lips closer to hers. Both consciously aware of half the Hollands just viewing them, their kiss was fleeting and light - but made Tom’s heart want to burst. 

“God I’ve missed your stupid face” She laughed, now her eyes filled with tears too. He let out a breathy chuckle in reply and used his thumb to wipe away a single droplet that escaped her eye.

“Missed yours more” her smile lit up the entirety of her face, such a natural glow across her face Tom shook his head slightly marvelling at her. 

“Ohhkkkayyy well I don’t really want to witness the making of nieces and nephews”

“Harry” Dom warned in a disapproving tone, even if he did have to fight back the laughter. To be quite honest he’d really enjoyed seeing his son and almost adopted daughter reunite. Both him and Nikki absolutely loved their relationship, they just went together oh so well, whilst slightly reminding them both of their younger carefree days. Harry rolled his eyes at his dad before continuing. 

“But shall we get dinner and then you can be alone all night” His eyebrows wiggled in such a manner Y/n swore she felt a little nauseous witnessing it. 

“Harry stop!” Sam interjected, elbowing Harry harshly in the side, earning him a  playful slap in return.

“Someone remind me why I’m paying the wrong twin to be my assistant?” Tom still hadn’t looked away from Y/n as he quipped a response at Harry, while Y/n was gently stroking up and down his cheeks with such a soft look in her eyes. 

“Because I rejected it” Sam smirked, making Harry yell out in anguish-

“I was second choice?!?!”

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Honestly just go play golf with your them! I have to do uni work anyway and-“

“But I don’t want to leave you! You’ve flown here too and I missed you.” Tom moaned, pressing a kiss into her hair from her position lying on his shoulder. Having slept uninterrupted for the first time in ages, Tom wasn’t even sure he wanted to venture away from Y/n and the bed at any point that day- even if it was for golf. 

“Your dad and Sam are only staying for the weekend so make the most of it! Me and my uni work are happy here-“ Tom’s eyes once again bugged out his face, as he caught on to her slip up.

“How long are you staying?” Shit. That was another thing she’d spoiled - getting a reputation to be as bad as Tom. Harry was for sure going to kill her.

“Oh fuck sake… that was my second surprise ruined… I’ve booked a week and a half off from uni so I can look after my little baby boy”

“Y/n don’t joke with me please.” Tom sat up, forcing Y/n to too which she huffed a little at, disrupting her comfort. It had her sitting up straight so she could look him in the eye and resting her hand on his exposed abdomen, asserting her authority on him. 

“I promise! My flights home next tuesday, but I’m missing uni so I have to be boring and keep up so it’s not a real holiday but-“ 

“I love you” 

Tom smiled for Y/n could never not surprise him. University was so important to her - she was really dedicating her life to it, especially financially. So her managing to put it on hold to look after him in a time of need was testament to just how kind and caring she truly was. 

“But you need to promise to look after yourself Tom. I haven’t seen bags under your eyes quite as impressive as this before. Think of your poor make up artists!” And she was back to being her usual sarky self. 

“I feel like I should be offended?”

“Or you can learn. Now go get showered before they leave without you.” Finally ralling off his side, then pushing him forcefully so he half rolled off the side of the bed. 

“Only if you shower with me.” The biggest smirk on his face, eyes wide and gleaming with mischief - which Y/n wanted to punch off so badly. On the other hand though, his idea didn’t sound half bad- letting him drag her up too. 

5 or so hours later, Y/n had written her assignment due in for next week and had submitted it online- making her feel pretty darn put together. She knew the boys had got back from the golf, and from the WhatsApp group Tom wasn’t very happy about his performance, so he was going to be moody. After closing her laptop triumphantly she chucked it in her bag and grabbed the spare key card and roamed the corridors of the hotel to find Sam and Dom’s room - where they all where. Tom had messaged her to let her know they were filming Dom’s podcast, so she had to be stealthy in her entrance - since to the public they were still just good friends. The secret still wasn’t ‘out’ so to speak. 

They’d left the door on the latch, allowing Y/n carefully pushing it open without making any noise. Immediately the golf-related bickering met her ears, while she peeked her head round the corner of the door. The four had set up armchairs by the window, with the camera balanced on top of a table and a stack of suitcases - in order for Harry to get the ‘perfect’ shot. Silently chuckling at the precarious arrangement, Y/n slid in through the door, turning round to gently close it shut again without noise. 

As soon as Tom had seen the door opening he had jumped out of his chair, walking up to Y/n and wrapping his arms round her- pulling her back into his chest off camera. Whispering a silently ‘I love you’ he grinned at the girl who was now arching to look into his eyes. She mirrored his sentiments, placing a bottle of water in his hand while pushing him back into frame. 

In reality, the whole of this podcast Tom had been attempting to summon energy in his body that was just not present. Don’t be mistaken, he had thoroughly enjoyed the time with his dad and brothers- but simply he only had today and tomorrow off filming for another 2 weeks, and the plan had been to stay as close to his bed as possible before the surprise happened. In all honestly, he caught his eyes drooping numerous times while they were filming the podcast- feeling safe in the surrounding of his family, the exhaustion was finally catching up to him. 

Y/n spent the rest of their podcast hidden behind the camera, doing some extra research on Sam’s double bed - yet sometimes having to stifle a chuckle at the boys filming. It was perhaps another 25/ 30 minutes before they finished, during which there was a hell of a lot of spoilers that they only realised too late could not be included. She really really did try to focus on her work, yet instead she found her eyes being drawn to her boyfriend. He still looked shattered. All she really wanted to do was wrap him in a thick duvet and cuddle into his side. She even promised herself to only find his occasional snores endearing tonight, which was something she often struggled with normally.

So when the camera was clicked off, Y/n spent a short amount of time chatting with all the Hollands, before suggesting they went to their own respective rooms before dinner. Unconsciously, when Y/n had suggested it, out of pure relief, Tom leaned almost all his weight against her side - anchored by the strong clasp on her hand. Of course, Y/n noticed and practically pulled Tom down the hallway without saying a word. Only when she let go of the door of their room, allowing it to close with a small slam, did she speak her mind.

“You shower, I’m getting room service then movies in bed… no arguments Holland.” He stared at her ,mouth agape, a little taken aback by her assertiveness, typically the opposite of Y/n. 

“I feel like you’ve just been inside all day, let me-“

“Nope. Nope. My holiday this is what I want… now shoo” She smirked, pushing him toward the ensuite door. Tom knew he did not have a choice in the matter, and even if he could possibly have some sort of influence- he was way too tired to argue.

Barely 15 minutes later, the two were wrapped cosily in the crisp white bedsheets, Tom with a small glass of a negroni cocktail and Y/n with her lime soda. Both were semi-reclined in a mound of pillows, yet Tom felt the need to also lean on her chest slightly. The familiarity of Y/n’s favourite movie ‘sunshine on leith’ playing on the screen, meant that within the first 10 minutes Tom was no longer alert. The smell of her perfume and the warmth of the duvet lulled him into a much needed slumber, making Y/n have to save the half-drunk negroni from spilling across the bedsheets as his grip relaxed. She just nestled in to the pillows further, a satisfied small grin dancing on her lips as she looked ahead at the TV, reducing the volume a little.

“Tom?…..Y/n?… Is anyone home?” A familiar voice sucked Y/n out from the next film ‘the greatest showman’, making her jump a little. Recognising it to be Dom instantly, Y/n had a mini argument in her head - whether to risk disturbing Tom by wriggling out from under him; or to call out instead, granting Dom independent entrance to the hotel room. It was possibly a bit of a weird position for her unofficial father-in-law to see his son and his girlfriend in, but she cared more right now about Tom resting than Dom’s opinions. 

“Dom…. come in… it’s open I think.” Desperately trying to get the volume right - enough so Dom could hear, but not so much as to wake Tom she called out, craning her neck toward the door. Luckily almost immediately Dom let himself in, and quizzically walked in seeing Y/n in bed.

“Sorry… it’s just I didn’t want to disturb him” Nodding in understanding, Dom inspected the state of his grown up, yet childlike son, asleep on her shoulder. 

“No no… he needs it. He always works himself raw for jobs but this…”

“It’s impressive even for him.” Y/n agreed, Dom noticing her unconscious stroking of his sons arm, soothing Tom as he slept. 

“Well me and the boys were trying to phone you both because we are going for dinner-“

“Ah sorry my phones in my bag”

“No no it’s fine… just it looks like Tom could do with an extra hour or so.” Dom motioned again to the slumbering figure with his trademark small grin, finding the whole situation entirely heartwarming.

“I was planning on waking him up so we could all go to the pub this evening… but yeh skipping the dinner might be a plan. I know it’s your last night and all but-“

“-Don’t apologise Y/n. I’m glad you’re looking after the kid.”  Y/n just smiled slightly, a small blush glowing from her cheeks. “I’ll um….leave you in peace… so maybe 9 o’clock? That gives you both 3 and a bit hours.”

“Sounds good!”Still speaking softly, Y/n freed one of her hands from the duvet and gave Dom a little wave as he exited the room giving a nod to her as the door closed. 

It was a sign of the times. Dom used to be Tom’s go to whenever he was tires, frazzled or fed up. But now he had been superseded by a far superior option. A kind, beautiful, intellectual choice - that Dom would graciously accept defeat to. 

He was awfully glad Tom had Y/n in his corner. And he was awfully glad he had found a surrogate  daughter in Y/n too. 

#tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland #tomholland #Harry Holland #fluff #Tom Holland tired #Tom Holland angst

[whump-only]

intro -- golden (vamp whump)

Ok so I have a vampire whump addiction now..... (thanks @deluxewhump + @ashintheairlikesnow). NEW WIP NEW OCs eeeeee

tw: broken bones, reference to gore (removal of teeth), captivity, restraint, it/its as pronouns, physical abuse/manhandling, non-sexual nudity, manipulative/abusive relationship, referenced death / murder

----

“Come on. Just let me just show it to you.” Hyde phrased it as though it was a request, but he stood blocking the front door. Daring Pollen to refuse him.

“No. Find someone else. I’m leaving,” Pollen said, but they both knew that wouldn’t happen. Pollen really, really regretted agreeing to housesit, For a whole month? On Hyde’s turf? Idiot! But he didn’t think Hyde would spring this on him. 

Hyde stepped forward and took Pollen by the elbow. “I’ll protect you…” he said cheekily, pulling Pollen towards the basement door. 

“Fuck you.” Pollen planted his feet firmly. To think Pollen would agree to living with a vampire… 

“Fuck! I said just look at it. How is that hard?” Hyde snapped with that ferociousness he was capable of. It’s why he was a top tier vampire hunter, but it startled Pollen when it came out like that. 

But just like that, the flash of anger was smoothed away, and Hyde was soft, coaxing. “Listen… if you actually look at it and still think it’s dangerous, then I’ll kill it before I go? Okay?”

Pollen was baffled. Did Hyde really think this was reasonable? Knowing what vampires did to his life, to his family? “…You’re serious?”

Hyde grinned before leading the way. That smile of assured victory that everyone swooned over. That Pollen used to want to kiss. Pollen clenched his teeth. 

Hyde opened the door to the pitch black basement and already everything in Pollen wanted to say, Close the door, get the fuck out! Leave it down there! That’s what any sensible human would do. 

Hyde flicked on a pale yellow light and padded down the steps. Pollen stopped at the threshold of the door, his heartbeat hammering in his ears. Run. Run! Those last words of his mother echoed in his head, the memory of that night wrapping itself around his neck, like a snake. Run! 

Hyde looked up at him, raised his eyebrows mockingly. Scared?

Pollen reasoned that if the thing somehow got loose it could kill Hyde first and give Pollen time to run away. Or something. And so, he forced himself to step down, one creaky, labored step after another. The smell of rotting, horrible something hit him so hard it triggered a coughing fit. “Ugh, god. You never crack a window down here?” Pollen called. 

Hyde was already out of sight, somewhere down there. “No windows.”

Pollen’s eyes watered and he could barely see anything in the yellow glow of the overhead light. Hyde was near the far wall, and Pollen urgently scanned the bare room for the monster. With a shock he realized it must be the figure at Hyde’s feet, curled under a blanket. 

With the clink of chains, the thing suddenly shifted and let out a whimper and Pollen’s heart leapt into his throat. 

Hyde kneeled down next to it and Pollen braced himself for it to leap up and rip open Hyde’s face.

But instead Hyde lifted it clean off the floor and held it up. Its blanket fell away and it was naked, so thin that it looked like its every bone was visible through its grey skin, making it all the more inhuman. It looked like an eerily accurate mannequin, utterly plastic and lifeless, yet still detailed in its rendering. The chain that dropped down from its neck looked heavier than its body. The thing remained limp in Hyde’s arms, its head drooped down to its chest, its bound wrists hung loosely. Its mop of black hair covered the top half of its face and the bottom was obscured with a muzzle. Its legs dangled a full foot off the ground. There was no way it was full grown, Pollen realized. 

It did not paint an intimidating picture. But Pollen still flinched when it growled suddenly. 

Hyde didn’t seem to register the sound at all, even though he was holding it against his body. He switched to holding it up with one arm. “Look at its eyes.” With the other hand he moved its matted hair out of the way and pulled up one of its eyelids. The iris was a deep, almost golden, yellow. “Such a pretty color.” 

The vampire’s eye seemed to fix on Pollen, its pupil growing small in an instant. Pollen turned away, finding himself overwhelmed. Those eyes. Just like—

“Want to touch it?” Hyde said, almost reverently. 

“No,” Pollen said firmly. “Just stop.”

“Suit yourself.” Hyde dropped the vampire so suddenly that Pollen jerked in surprise as it hit the floor and cried out.  

Hyde stepped over the cowering creature and with a gleam in his eyes. “See? Didn’t I tell you?”

Pollen stepped back, momentarily forgetting the vampire, but nonetheless terrified. Hyde was alive now, glowing with excitement. At any moment his energy could be redirected by a swift turn of anger into a quick bone cracking punch or the instant unsheathing of his knife. In this basement, Hyde could get away with anything, Pollen thought. 

But Hyde was in good spirits, seemingly assured that his presentation had been thoroughly convincing. So he was now onto logistics, “The freezer upstairs is filled with cow blood. Give the vamp a block every day or so. That’ll keep it alive but it won’t get strong enough to give you trouble. You can always lower the portion if it’s getting too energetic.”

Pollen’s head was still spinning from the slow realization of what he’d gotten backed into doing. “And what, take off its muzzle? What if it bites me?”

Hyde grinned with chaotic glee. “I took out its fangs! And the rest of the front ones too.”

Pollen unconsciously raised his hand to cover his mouth. 

Hyde continued. “Still gotta be wary of the things growing back of course. You can use the pitchfork to pin it down, but trust me, it doesn’t move around much anyway. It’s pretty easy.”

Pollen tried to relax his clenched mouth. “Right. Cow blood. Got it.”

Hyde tapped his chin. “Other than that, I just dump a bucket of water or two every few days, to wash down the piss an everything to the drain there.”

Literally mopping shit. Unbelievable that Hyde would take him for granted like this, Pollen sulked. “I hate you. You’re a bad friend.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry,” Hyde said tenderly. He reached for Pollen’s hand and teasingly wrapped his index finger around Pollen’s pinkie. With the other hand he gave Pollen’s butt a little squeeze. “I’ll make it up to you.”

Ridiculous. Did Hyde think he was so good that sex would make up for this?, Pollen wondered. Pollen wasn’t that desperate. 

And now Pollen was insulted. “Hey. I never say I’d do it. Chained up or not, toothless or whatever, I’m not going to be able to sleep knowing there’s a vampire under me. That’s a risk you’re willing to live with. But not me. What if it gets away and comes upstairs to kill me?”

Hyde sighed. “You really think that thing is any threat to you? Be serious.” 

“Yes!” Pollen insisted. 

Hyde’s eyes narrowed and he smirked coldly. “So sad. But I get it. Can’t be too careful with vamps. They killed your folks right?”

Pollen already knew Hyde wasn’t just giving up. But Pollen didn’t know how to stop him. How to not walk into the trap. So Pollen yielded, “Yes. And my siblings. I had two sisters.”

“That’s too bad...” Hyde turned to the vampire that had somehow managed to silently twist most of itself back under the blanket. “Hey, Goldie. Mr. Pollen doesn’t trust you…”

Hyde walked purposefully toward a metal baseball bat that Pollen hadn’t noticed before. Pollen didn’t think he imagined the dark staining on it. 

Hyde glanced over, trying to catch Pollen’s gaze. “…What can we do about that?”

Pollen felt very cold in his stomach, remembering Hyde’s promise to kill it if Pollen thought it was dangerous. “Hey, come on Hyde. Hyde! Don’t do that,” Pollen said, but he wasn’t sure. The vampire couldn’t be released back to the outside to terrorize people, they both knew that. 

The vampire too, must’ve sensed the lurch toward danger, because it broke out of its stupor. As Hyde loomed over it, it struggled and whined, tried to scrabble against the concrete, pull itself away. But Hyde firmly stepped down on a part of it, pinning it.

“Stop! No!” Pollen shouted, but Hyde raised the tool above his head—

Pollen turned away and covered his ears to block the piercing cry of the creature. With every new breath it screamed into its muzzle and seemed to choke on its own voice before screaming again.  Pollen panted in horror, unable to look up. 

“One broken leg,” Hyde reported, loudly, over the thing’s cries. “Or if we’re really being more exact, it’s probably shattered from the knee down. Still think vampy can get away?”

Pollen shook his head. “Hyde. I can’t…”

“What do you think, Goldie? Can you still crawl up the stairs and kill Mr. Pollen?” Hyde addressed it with a tone that approached tenderness. But he still held that bat, weighing it in his hand. Pollen realized Hyde never intended to kill it. 

Pollen wished he could jump up and snatch away the bat. But his body wouldn’t move. “Hyde. Hyde, please stop. Just stop.”

Hyde looked right at Pollen with dark eyes as he raised the bat again. “Sorry, Goldie. One leg to go.” 

Pollen finally unfroze and raced up the stairs two at a time, tripped once, bashing his chin into a stair, but it didn’t slow him down until he was back in the kitchen. He felt dizzy so he sank to the floor and clapped his hands over his ears as the creature wailed. 

The stairs creaked as Hyde climbed them. He softly closed the basement door, muting the sounds of pain. 

The ringing finally subsided in Pollen’s head. “Why the fuck did you do that?” Pollen demanded. 

“You know I’m the last person on earth who’d underestimate a vampire. I wouldn’t leave you in a situation where you could get hurt,” Hyde said sweetly. 

You knew it’d make me guilty, Pollen thought. To get back at me for resisting you, right? But Pollen said nothing, and took the hand Hyde offered. 

Hyde pulled Pollen to his feet. “I know it’s scary. Especially for you. But you can do this.”

Pollen rested his head on Hyde’s shoulder, pretending that this Hyde, the soft one, couldn’t switch back if he was hugging Pollen. The broken moans of the thing could still be heard through the door. This whole exercise seemed so cruel now, so unnecessary. Pollen mumbled into Hyde’s shirt. “Why can’t you just kill it?”

Hyde wrapped his arms around Pollen. “This is a rare opportunity. I’ll take it around to fairs and things, earn a little cash showing people something they’ve never seen before. It’ll be something to do between my hunting trips. Maybe I can even travel less, if the money’s good… I’m not getting younger, you know?”

The creature’s pitiful sobs echoed in Pollen’s skull. Pollen gripped Hyde’s shirt tighter. “Mhm.” 

Hyde approvingly pecked a kiss onto Pollen’s forehead. “Thank you.”

Pollen cursed the fluttery feeling it gave him. He broke out of the hug. “You’re welcome, asshole.”

Hyde began to shuttle around the house, scanning for things he might’ve forgotten to pack. The vampire had gone quiet. 

Finally Hyde stood at the door, ready to leave. 

Pollen joined him to see him off. “Have a nice trip. Kills lots of vampires for me.”

“That I will.” Hyde gave a salut and marched off. 

Pollen closed the door and slumped down to the floor. “Fuck!”

#vampire whump #captivity whump #golden the vamp #whump writing #broken bones #gore #captivity #restraint #it/its pronouns #non-sexual nudity #manhandling #physical abuse #abusive relationship #manipulation #referenced death

[steve-rogers-ruined-men-for-me]

Teach Me

Summary: Bucky’s worried about you overworking yourself at your teaching job. 

Warnings: some swearing, cute couple shit

Words: 2014k

A/N: this is my first full fic! I’ve really missed writing just for fun and I have a few more fic ideas and hc ideas in the works! please please please comment and let me know what you think! 

No matter what, you always came to bed when Bucky did. Sometimes you stayed up on your phone or reading but you always at least sat on the bed with him. He knew that you had a big week coming up, with your principal coming to observe you, midterms drawing closer, and your students struggling with the new curriculum the district was imposing. 

You were a high school English teacher and Bucky had met you when your school had put on an assembly about the history of the Avengers. He had noticed you in the back of the auditorium, wearing a soft blue dress and encouraging your students to ask him questions about his prosthetic. He shyly asked Tony to see if he could contact the school later and get your number. He had rolled his eyes at him and had walked up to you and asked in plain English, “The Manchurian Candidate over there wants to take you to dinner. If I set up the reservation and promise to make him show up, will you go?” Your jaw had dropped and you had numbly agreed. James Buchanan Barnes wanted to go on a date with you? Despite your doubts regarding the reality of the situation, you showed up outside the quiet Italian restaurant and the rest was history.

Bucky smiled at the memory of you dressed in a red silk jumpsuit with your hair braided back. You looked like a modern version of the girls he flirted with during the forties. Only, back then, he had been wondering how to get up their skirts but now he was more concerned with taking his time getting the jumpsuit off your gorgeous body. He felt a twitch between his legs and, smirking, shook the feeling off. He padded down to the kitchen, thinking you had gotten hungry. When that search yielded no you, he wandered through the rest of the downstairs. He noted that your car hadn’t left the driveway and checked the calendar on the fridge to see if he had the opening shift at the mechanic’s tomorrow (he mercifully did not). But he took note of how small your writing was on your to-do list for Monday. 

Feeling a pang in his chest, he remembered how he had begged you to let him have your full attention on Friday and Saturday.  While you’d reveled in your domestic bliss, by noon on Sunday, you had been buried in your office with your laptop, surrounded by books, papers, and highlighters. Smiling to himself, he realized where you were. He headed up to the attic loft, converted into your office. The walls were a soft gray and the couch the two of you had bought for your tiny first apartment was squeezed against one wall. 

Bucky’s heart tightened as he saw you sprawled on the couch, wrapped in one of his massive flannels. Your desk light was on and the desk was messier than he’d ever seen it. Your blinking phone alerted him to the fact that you’d set an alarm for midnight, but had been so tired you’d slept through it, a given considering you were working yourself to the bone and it was two a.m. Afraid to ruin your organizational system on your desk, he returned the pens and highlighters to the little decorative cups you kept them in, saved every file you had open on your laptop before closing it, and pushed the papers in imminent danger of falling onto the floor farther back on the desk. 

Content that he had lessened the burden of cleaning you’d have to do tomorrow, he crouched next to the couch. Gently smoothing a stray hair out of your face, he whispered, “baby...come on, get up, let’s go to bed.” You opened your eyes slowly and then jerked upright, sending your phone flying and Bucky scrambling backwards. 

“What time is it!” you cried, frantic. You ran towards your desk, frantically pinging your phone from your Apple Watch. Your clock on your desk blinked back 2:05 a.m. at you. Bucky picked up your incessantly beeping phone and handed it to you as you slumped in your desk chair, head in your hands. 

“I just wanted to get this stupid assessment plan done,” you whispered. You hugged his flannel tight around you as tears started to fall. Bucky turned your swivel chair so you were facing him as he knelt in between your legs. You dropped your upper body and rested your forehead on his shoulder as you sobbed. The weight of turning in grades, making assignments, checking in with your students to make sure they were doing okay, it was weighing on you. Bucky had noticed you sleeping less and drinking more coffee but hadn’t truly realized the toll it was taking on you. Kicking himself for making you spend time with him instead of alleviating your burdens at work, he pulled you out of the chair to sit between his legs, curling you into him and rocking gently. After a few minutes, you tilted your chin up and scooched back. Sitting criss cross between his legs, you cupped your chin and closed your eyes.

“I don’t know what to do, Buck,” you said sadly. You tugged on a loose button on your sleeve, looking like a lost puppy. Bucky knew how much you adored teaching and how much you loved your students. You were always baking treats for them when they did well on exams, buying bagels so that they could eat breakfast, and extending deadlines for the kids who worked. He knew that the American school system had changed since the 1940s and when you had shown him what you had to teach in a week and just how much time and energy went into lesson planning, he almost formed his own teachers union to advocate for you. 

When he found out your dismal salary, he had to take a walk. He spent an hour with Tony railing against your pay and the administrators who punished you for the test scores of students that you had no control over. Tony sat him down after an hour of not being able to get a word in edgewise and finally pledged to harass the local school boards (and the Board of Education if they would call him back) about raising teacher salaries. Bucky had walked home to you pouring over birthday cards your sixth period juniors had given you because they’d gotten a tip that it was your birthday. (Peter helped Bucky hack your Google Classroom). He felt a wave of pride come over him as he looked at you, his selfless girl, thrilled that she was having an impact on the kids she loved the most. You getting so down on yourself broke his heart. 

“What’s wrong with your assessment plan?” he asked, intertwining your hands with his. You looked up angrily. “What ISN’T wrong with it is a better question!” you cried. “The district made the test up and it’s on a fucking scantron because what fucking isn’t these days and it’s not taking into account the fact that school is not the main focus for so many of these kids that have to fucking work and help support their siblings and all they are is numbers on a fucking piece of paper that tells you nothing about the effectiveness of my teaching or the district’s ability to educate them as a whole!” Bucky blinked rapidly as you huffed. You didn’t get angry very often, but when you did and you started to monologue, he understood why you received a distinction with your English degree. 

“Baby,” he started gently, “can I ask you something you may not like?” He knew that you were a planner and that the odds were you were beating yourself up about a task that had taken your coworkers thirty minutes to do. You always wanted to do right by your kids but if you didn’t start sleeping and taking care of yourself, you were useless to everyone, including yourself. You looked up at Bucky through teary eyes.

“Are you going to ask me if the plan’s done and I’m just being picky?” you asked in a small voice. Bucky stood up, taking you with him. He pressed your frame against him, putting your arms over his shoulders and resting his hands on your waist. He stayed to sway slightly, trying to lull you back to sleep and to try to help quiet your mind. “I wouldn’t say picky I just...look. I’m being selfish. I want you to come to bed with me. I want you to play with my hair and whisper that you love me when you think I’m out cold asleep,” he gushed, noting the slight blush that crept up your cheeks. “You are incredible. Your admin are literally fucking stupid, doll. Nothing you do will change that. You are trying your best and if you think that your kids won’t benefit from the 12 different plans you’ve cooked up, then you’re crazy. Your kids don’t need a version 13, baby. They need you whole, in one piece, and ready to fight for them if they need.” He kissed your forehead, trying to ease your creased brow. Giving in to his ministrations, you sighed. You thought about how this plan should’ve probably only taken an hour. But then you rewrote the plan for the week based off of if your kids took a lot of time on the test, a little time, got anxious during it, caught on fire during it, committed larceny during the test and you had to contact the police. You knew it was overkill but you also knew that budget cuts were coming, contracts were up at the end of this year, and you and Bucky were saving to buy a house instead of living in a condo forever. 

“Buck?” you whispered. He lifted his chin off your head and looked down.

“Yeah, doll?” 

You felt the exhaustion settle into you all at once. “Can we go to bed?” 

Picking you up and putting you in a fireman’s carry, Bucky held you the whole way down to your bedroom. He pulled out a shirt of his for you to sleep in while you brushed your teeth and rinsed off in the shower. He walked in right as you were towelling off and he slipped it over your head with ease. He offered to blow dry your hair but you declined, favoring slipping into a warm sleep with him. He cuddled you close, forgoing asking you to play with his hair in favor of trying to hug all the pride he felt about you into your body via osmosis. Your head was resting soft on his chest, one arm curled protectively around his torso. His metal arm was tucked up and around your shoulders, keeping you comfortable. His flesh hand caressed your arm around him to remind you that he would always be there for you. He loved you more than anything. As your breathing evened and his hand on your side rose in gentle time with your breath, he decided that he was going to call Tony tomorrow. He knew a few people who owed him from his time as the Winter Soldier and if they didn’t want their dirty laundry exposed, dammit he was going to make someone in the district fix the stupid test until it worked how you wanted it to work. He hugged you closer to him, giving you one final squeeze before he started drifting off to sleep. He slipped into a dream where he was a professor and you a naughty schoolgirl and he had just convinced you to bend over to pick something up behind his desk when...a loud snore from you jolted him back to the reality of his exhausted teacher girlfriend wearing his baggy shirt, with hair going every which way. There was no plaid skirt here. Only love and admiration. Bucky kissed your temple and willed sleep to come again. 

#buckybarnes #bucky barnes headcanons #bucky x reader #buckybarnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff

[ff-imagines]

Can i request some nsfw headcanons for mantis shrimp? I read through your blog and let me just say: I'm a big fan. Btw if you dont wanna do them thats fine as well

Salt and pepper shrimp: nsfw alphabet

I did the whole alphabet bc? Why not! Side note I rly wanna write a fic going off my thoughts ab his experience level >:)

A - aftercare

Look, getting him to release you from his hold to go to the bathroom on a regular night is a battle enough. After sex? Phew I wish you luck. Might wanna just put some water on your night stand beforehand. You would be able to convince him to take a bath with you pretty easily though, he likes how the warm water feels very much. Make sure to cuddle him in the bath still, he's in a very vulnerable state right now and he really needs some good old tlc.

B- body parts

he’s got a weird fixation with your hands. He likes to compare hand sizes, whether your hands are bigger or smaller isn’t what he likes, he just likes to admire them. He loves sucking/biting your fingers while he’s got you in his lap. Lacing your fingers with his with one hand while bringing the other to his cheek, nuzzling into your hand while he bounces you on his cock.

On himself, there is tragically little that he genuinely likes. He views himself as a weapon, getting him to unlearn that will not be an easy process, trust me, Boston has tried. Complimenting his eyes does seem to make him a little more flustered than other praises, and he has a hard time staring you in the eye during sex…. maybe we can start there.

C - cum

His cum is pretty thin but there’s a shit ton of it. Enough that if he cums inside you swear you can feel the warmth as his cock pours rope and rope of his seed into you.

He doesn’t actually care where he cums, just ask him and he’ll comply.

inside you? sounds good.

On your back? Say less.

On the floor? You’re cleaning it, but sure.

He did discover he’s got an affinity for watching his cum on your tongue. I don’t know how you’d be able to swallow it all, but any attempt you make will be met with shrimp getting hard all over again.

D - dirty secret

He secretly thinks it’d be really hot for you to dom him. It’s gonna take a very long time before he’s comfortable letting you have that Linda control over him, just the thought of being tied up, hands behind his back while you praise him for being such a good boy, its a fantasy he’s visited on many sleepless nights.

E - experience

Nope. Nada. To be frank, I think he’s the definition of Demisexual, and he has yet to meet anyone besides Boston and the anti-human gang who he genuinely wants to get to know better. He definitely hasn’t met anyone who wants to get to know better for romantic reasons.

He doesn’t know enough about human customs to know that it can be embarrassing for someone to be inexperienced, but he does feel very very nervous the first few times. He’ll need a lot of reassurance, give him praise and he’s putty in your hands.

F - favorite position

I'm gonna be boring and say missionary. It’s simple, easy, and since he’s brand new to all of this it’s the least mentally overstimulating. He very much likes that he can see your face.

If he’s feeling extra spicy he might grab onto the inside of your knees and push you into the mating press, though he really only does this if he’s upset or jealous.

If you ask nicely he might let you sit in his lap, as a treat. Bouncing on his cock as he litters your chest with bite marks, what a treat it is <3

G - goofy

…. yea for sure definitely. He’s a real jokester.

On a serious note, he himself is not a goofy person whatsoever, but he would actually like it if you were. Outright making fun of him or harsh teasing is an immediate turn off, but light jokes to ease his nerves is for sure welcomed since he’s very tense the first few times.

Give him time and you might even catch him cracking a small joke himself, all the while giving you a weak, nervous smile.

H- hair

He doesn’t trim or shave anything lmao. He’s busy, and also doesn’t care literally at all. He’s got a thin happy trail that can be easy to miss since he's blonde.

He’s got the same energy with your body hair, he doesn’t care. If you do shave he might ask why, just out of curiosity. If your reason is insecurity, he’ll probably suggest you let it grow, he doesn’t care and he’s the only one who’ll ever see it lmao

I- intimacy

It’s an awkward “i hope to fuck I’m doing this right” kind of intimacy. He fumbles and messes up a lot, he might even accidentally miss when thrusting and end up just kinda rubbing himself on you but he’s really trying. Just from the fact he’s willing to try this at all with you is a big sign that he’s really trying his best to be as intimate as he can with you.

J- jerk off

Before meeting you, not a lot actually. He mostly just did it if he ever woke up from a wet dream and knew that if he didn’t take care of it now he’d never be able to get back to sleep.

After your first time together, his first time, he thinks back the immeasurable pleasure a lot, finding himself in need of relief a lot more than he ever did before. You are the catalyst to his drive, and you are also the only thing he can think about that can help him cum. It’s kinda sweet in a perverted way.

K- Kinks

He will bite you. It’s just so easy to bruise you and it makes your relationship status to others so obvious, he can’t just… not bite you.

Marking, going along with the biting kink. This goes both ways, he’d love for you to scratch at his back enough to leave red marks, to bite as his collarbone, grip his hips tight enough to bruise. He likes looking at the marks later, they remind him that he did good, he made you feel good, that’s all he really wants.

He doesn’t exactly have a breeding kink as much as this goes along with the marking aspect. Suggest to him that he cum deep inside you to mark your insides… he might give you 2-3 loads just to make sure you're nice and full, completely claimed.

He also kinda likes to make you cry. Overstimulating you to the point of tears gives him a sense of pride he hasn’t really felt before.

He really likes temperature play as well, dragging ice cubes and hot wax across your skin and watching you flinch and squirm just does something to him.

And of course, light bondage. He probably found out it was a thing after reading some kinda erotic fiction and immediately went to you like “why did you not tell me about this?????” He adores how to look all tied up and stuck, right in the palm of his hands. It makes him feel emotional as well, that you’re willing to give him such a powerful amount of control over you.

Last but not least, please praise him. During sex as well as day to day. Let him know he’s so pretty, he’s doing so good, he’s cock feels so so good, he might cum on the spot.

L- location

The first time he’d really need it to be in a secluded, safe area. He’s gotta feel comfy if he’s gonna get into the mood.

Every other time? Babes you’ve awakened a beast, he’ll get random spikes of “if I don’t at least try to fuck them I will scream”. You could be in the middle of a forest running from an axe wielding murderer and this horny bastard would still find a way to pull you aside and rail you against a tree.

There most likely isn’t a spot in your home that he hasn’t fucked you against.

Peaceful moment of washing dishes? Think again, he’s plopping you on the kitchen counter and diving to mouth at your neck.

Writing some papers? Just sit on his lap, you’ll feel much less stressed with his cock buried to the hilt, won’t you?

Doing laundry? Might have to rewash them cause now he’s using the clothes as a bed to fuck you on. He’ll apologize and help you fold them after they’re rewashed bc he feels bad lmao

M- motivation

Like I said, he’s set off by the smallest things. A little stretch, wiping some water off on your pants, humming a song, all of it can randomly make him feel the need to fuck you.

The most intense and quickest way to rile him up is either playing with his hair, or massaging his back. It starts out innocent but he just can’t take the thought of your pretty hands working so lovingly and not at least trying to reciprocate and make you feel good too.

N- no

No sharing. He doesn’t want someone else to see you, and he doesn’t want someone else to see him. It’s just not something he likes.

He also hates humiliation. He… would tolerate it if you asked for it, even if he doesn’t get why you’d want him to outright insult you. But for himself? Fuck no, he hates it so fuckin much. He’s a sensitive insecure puppy that wants your attention very badly, pls don’t hurt him like that :(

O- oral

Oh please give him oral. He’s begging. Well, he’d never outright beg but the way his eyes fixate on your mouth a lot is his way of silently pleading for you to wrap your lips around his cock. His soul ascends a little every time he sees his cum dribbling down your face, he might be even willing to make out with his cum still on your tongue.

As for giving, he’s got no clue what the hell he’s doing but he’s nervously eager to try. Guide him as best you can, he’s good at measuring your reactions so he can handle the rest. Tug on his hair a little bit if you wanna drive him crazy.

He’ll get a lot better with time, his eagerness to please however, does not leave him in the slightest.

P- pace

The first time? Slow and unsure, then he realizes “oh fuck this feels stupid good” and his pace becomes almost punishing. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing, he’s unknowingly going deeper and harder than you've ever been dicked down in your life. If you want him to, somehow, go harder? Grab his hand and place it over your stomach to make him feel his cock enter you through your skin, his hand slides down to grip your hips and slams into you, wiggling his hips without withdrawing to gain some of his sanity back before he’s back to a punishing pace.

Q- quickies

Oh hell yea. He lives for them. Sudden moments of horniness come to him all the time and since this spike in desire is brand new, he hasn’t really… learned to live with it yet. He pulls you aside into closets and alleyways all the time, he can’t help that you feel so warm and snug :(

R- risk

He doesn’t exactly enjoy the thought of a voyeur, he really doesn’t want to share you with anyone. But… there is a deeper part of him that finds a sense of pride if someone were to hear you getting absolutely pounded by him, desperately crying out and whining for him to go deeper, even better if they were someone who pined for you….

S- stamina

Well, to be frank he cums pretty quickly. It’s all so brand new to him, he really can’t help it. Lucky for you, his refractory time is crazy low. He can cum once, watch you do some mindless motion you always do and he’s right back to being hard again in minutes.

T- toys

Not against it, but is again, brand new to all this shit. He’s very interested in using your own toys against you though. Would definetly use a vibrater to edge and overstim you. He’d be interested in a cock ring, only if you were willing to endure a vibrator while he fucks you, he doesn’t wanna be the only one struggling lmao

U- unfair

He can be, yea. He kinda likes edging you, but not as much as he likes overstimulating you.

He loves to hear how you beg under him when he’s pulling you so close to the edge, keeping you just far enough to drive you insane.

Overstimming though? The way you twitch and beg, how your chest heaves and your mouth hangs open into a silent scream, eyes shut tight and watering, now that’s the good shit.

V- volume

Doesn’t talk much, but for sure gives out a lot of groans. This is something he’s never felt before in his life, the first few times you're going to get a lot of whines and surprised yelps, check up on him and make sure he’s still doing alright, he’s just very nervous.

As he gets more comfortable, he gives you quiet praises and promises to make you feel good. He also groans quite a lot, but since his voice is deeper it can be hard to catch.

W- wild card

He really wants to try using his prosthetic arm for temperature play, he’s just not at all confident in himself enough to bring it up. He likes the thought of you jumping and squirming under his touch, for now he can just stick to wax play.

X- X Ray

Mans is actually pretty fuckin big. He’s got no idea how big he is though. If you were surprised and a little nervous about his size he’d be pretty confused, is there something wrong? Did you change your mind? The concept of him being well above average is something you’ll have to explain later. It boosts his ego quite bit, even if he’d never admit it.

Whine about him being too big and you can just see the pride swelling in his chest, giving you no mercy with his thrusts.

Y- yearning

Often. Very very often. He’d fuck you multiple times every day if he had the time. However, you’re both busy, and you’d probably get a UTI with how many times this man wants to dick you down lmao. He’s got his cock buried in you at least 4-5 times a week.

Z- zzz

Actually pretty quickly. Even if he prefers being in control during sex, he kinda likes being the little spoon as he drifts to sleep. Give him some soft praises about how well he did and he’s turning into jello in your hold.

#food fantasy #food fantasy x reader #ff salt and pepper shrimp #ff salt and pepper shrimp x reader

[wornoutmouse]

OH MY IM SO FREAKIN LATE THIS IS MY FIRST TIME HAVING A DEADLINE. @ozarkthedog (really hope this is the right person)

Day one: Cum Play

As of recently, Tamaki has been acting,...aggressive. You don't blame him, you blame his company. Due to a secret mission off on the coast of Japan, he has been forcing himself to eat wolf hair.

"Babe, can you pass me the lemon pepper seasoning?" You say not looking up from the chicken you were massaging for tomorrow's barbeque. There was silence, "Babe-" you say looking up before feeling something hard and plastic hit you in the middle of the face. "O-Oh bunny! I'm s-s-so sorr-y!" Tamaki stuttered quickly coming to your side as you dropped to your knees in pain. You just closed your eyes and asked the Lord to give you strength. "I promised not to yell." you muttered to yourself.

"It's fine Tamaki." you jumped when Tamaki slammed his fist on the counter, making it crack. "I told you to call me Amajiki Y/N." You jerk your head up to look at your boyfriend. He has never raised his voice, much less said something with this much force unless he was dealing with a villain. You peek up at him, "Amajiki?"

Tamaki's face for once in his life was not red with constant embarrassment. Instead, he was calm and calculated as he looked down at you. You could tell he was breathing shallowly as his pupils dilated, and based on the whiteness of his knuckles, he was doing his best to not being aggressive.

You could feel the hostile energy filling the room by the second so, not wanted to stir any more altercations, you stood up and smiled, "To make it up to me, why don't you finish the seasoning and put it in the fridge to marinate?" You ask standing up, dusting imaginary dust off your legs to help calm your nerves

Before receiving an answer, you quickly turn around, and just as you step out of the kitchen you hear a low snarl from behind you, making you speed up.

When Tamaki is done your sitting on the couch watching TV and Tamaki slides onto the couch all the way at the end. You don't look but you can feel his eyes on you. "Are you scared Bunny?" he asks.

You quirk your eyebrow trying to feign ignorance to how your body was shaking. "Why would I be scared, this isn't a scary movie?" You look over at Tamaki to try and defuse whatever situation was rising, only to evolve into a coughing fit at the violent yellow glow Tamaki's eyes were emitting.

At this point you could see Tamaki's breathing was ragged, "T-Tamaki?" you asked, and at this point, you were stuttering like him. Tamaki shook with something indescribable, "I told you to call me Amajiki!" he growled and that snapped you out of your daze making you leap up startled ad you slowly walk backwards.

"Don't run from me, your only making it worse!" Tamaki said as he stood up looking more like a predator with prey with every step he took.

"The hell wrong with this nigga?" you think to yourself as you locked your shared bedroom door and slip under the bed. "Why the hell did we have to live at the top floor?!" you whisper to yourself wishing you could just jump out the window and head to Mirio's for the night.

You freeze when you hear the door jiggle and you sigh in relief when you realize it's the bathroom door on the other side of the wall. "Bunny.." Tamaki sighed almost sounding like a deranged moan. "He done lost his mind, I'm calling Mirio after this!" you think to yourself.

Tamaki get's to the bedroom door and jiggles the lock scoffing when he feels that it's locked. "That wasn't smart." he says before you hear a hard thump against the door making it click open. 'Did this man just use pressure to unlock the door?" you thought to yourself watching his feet through the thin sliver you could see from under the bed skirt. "He really gon kill me huh?' you thought hopelessly.

You shiver as you hear Tamaki maniacally giggle as he skims through the closet. Luckily for you, your closet was rather large and definitely a decent hiding place, so using his distraction you carefully scoot from under the bed and head towards the door that was thankfully left open. "Make me white and call me Becky." you thought to yourself instantly regretting your decision.

Just as you step out, you feel a hand roughly grab your side and another one come around your neck caressing your chin making sharp nails dig deep enough to draw blood. "Y/n!" Tamaki moaned in your ear before you felt a wet stripe being licked from your neck, up to your ear.

You were harshly pulled back into the room and tossed into the bed. "S-So what you're going to kill me? Cause I called you by your last name?!" you say in disbelieving. Tamaki blinked slowly at you as if looking through a mist. You could tell his brain was clouded by whatever was going on with him.

While a dark grin came over his face, you'd be a lie if you said it didn't slightly turn you on.

"Kill you? Why would I do that?" Tamaki asks crawling onto the bed in a stalking manner, making you scoot back only to have your ankle grabbed yanking you back towards him. "Oh no Y/n, I'm not going to kill you silly. I'm going to fuck you." you blink rapidly trying to catch up on what he just stated all the while Tamaki's eyes raked over your body as he literally begins to salivate.

"My bunny's skin is so smooth and brown like the earth." Tamaki purrs leaning down to press kisses to your legs, "I want you to feel me, I want you to feel my cum drip down your thighs." Tamaki's words slurred together as if high on your scent. "Or maybe I should make you drink it." he stops applying kisses and simply stares at you, tongue loling out his mouth ever so slightly.

"I'm going to defile you." he moans as he continues to travel up your leg to your center, making you throb as his warm breath ghosts over it. "Amaijiki where is this coming from?" you ask, unsure of what was actually happening or if you should let this behavior continue. "I'm so horny right now, I tried to tell you but you ran away!" he whined into your cunt making you tremble and latch onto his hair making him groan.

Tamaki pulls your damp underwear to the slide before licking a stripe up your entrance. "T-Tamaki!" you yelp. Tamaki raised his eyes and glared at you before lightly slapping your entrance making you jerk at the limited pleasure.

"What did I say about my name?" he said with a low whine. Your eyes widened, "The wolf hair!" you blurt out making Tamaki look at you funny. "It's March, wolves tend to mate between January and April." you explain squealing as Tamaki shoves his index finger all the way to the knuckle inside of you not paying attention to your discovery. You clear your throat, "That's why you are so adamant about your name, It's custom for the female to accept the males." you hum in thought, "Oh wait, that's birds."

You arch your back suddenly as Tamaki forcefully adds a second finger into your body. "You talk when your nervous Bunny." Tamaki whispered in your ears before taking your ear between his sharp teeth. "Don't be nervous, I'm going to make you feel so good."

Tamaki added a third finger, before bending back down to add his tongue into the mix pushing it deep inside of you, making your legs shake from the stimulation. You grip his hair and throw your head back. "I'm close." you stutter out. Tamaki pulls away and you groan as you watch him practically rip off his clothes

"Jesus.." you trail off as you gaze down at his painfully hard dick. "I'm so hard for you Bunny." he groans lazily jerking his cock placing a hand on your shoulder. "Lay upside-down." he says and you raise your eyebrow but comply. It's too late when you realize what was happening as you gaze up at your boyfriend positioning his dick at your mouth. "Tamaki wait-" you choke as Tamaki takes the liberty of shoving his member deep in your throat. You sputter around the girth but he doesn't falter, only giving you the mercy of not moving.

"Your so cute" Tamaki strokes your face before lightly tracing his fingers along your neck, pressing down on it slightly before covering his face in mock embarrassment. "I'm so deep in you Bunny!" unable to respond, you only focus on trying to breathe. Tamaki moves back and forth fucking your face andnot wasting any time on going slow.

"F-Fuck!" you start gagging but that only spurs him on to move faster. "I'm going to come on your face, can I do that please y/n? you'd like that so much huh Y/n?" Tamaki rambled delirious and drooling onto your chest as he grips the underside of your chin moving faster.

Tamaki suddenly pulls out and drags you to the ground, violently jerking off in front of your face. Before you can even say anything more you are forced to close your eyes as you feel his cum hit your face covering your lips. You reach a hand up to wipe it off but Tamaki grabs your hands with an animalistic growl, "Leave it." You feel yourself hoisted up and without any warning, you feel his dick go inside of you, still hard.

Standing up Tamaki bounces you up and down hitting your cervix and with your limited senses, your pleasure was doubled tenfold. Tamaki lays you down onto the edge of the bed and continued to drill into you.

"Fuck! I'm close!" you moan not sure what to grab onto. You gasp when you feel Tamaki's warm tongue swirling on your eyelids as he licks his cum off your face before kissing you making you cringe at the taste. Tamaki pulls out making you whine, 'No I was so close." Tamaki smirked licking his now extended fangs causing you to shiver with anticipation. "You tasted me, now I get to taste you"

Tamaki gets a firm grip on your legs and spread them before eating you out vigorously making you shiver before cum harder than you have in a while with a tearful cry. Tamaki cleans up your release until you're pushing him away from overstimulation and exhaustion.

It's nothing but heavy breathing for a while but you could tell that was ending as Tamaki's face went from pink due to overexertion to red from embarrassment. Knowing what to do, you open your arms and allowed him to hide his face into your neck. "D-Did I scare you?" he asked you chuckle, "No sweetie...I was terrified". Tamaki whined making you laugh as you two fell into a comfortable, dreamless sleep.

#bnha x black reader #tamaki amajiki #tamaki smut #kinktober #blackreader #black y/n #bnha headcanons #mha smut

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 11 second part

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Absurdity) 

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Message from the Lan Clan

After dinner the Yunmeng bros go to talk to Jiang Fengmian in his study. They're quiet and respectful here, with no shoulder-shoving or arguing. This scene has such Brady Bunch energy, where Dad's Study is the Man Place where boys come to talk about Serious Things.

The boys tell Dad Jiang about the Yin Iron and he says yeah, I know. This is probably why he let them run off on their road trip without punishing them, but he could have, like, shared data with them so they might have actually achieved something related to the Yin Iron, rather than just wandering around the countryside bonding with Lan Wangji and Nie Huaisang.

He shows them a letter from the Lans that basically says the Lan Clan is in the shit, and he tells them they've got to go to the Wen indoctrination because otherwise they will also be in the shit. 

He gives the boys a warning about the Yin Iron, which is that 

1. it can be refined and 

2. if you refine it carefully, it will not control you. 

Awesome tip, will definitely use, thanks pop.

(more behind the cut)

Jiang Cheng wants to argue about going to the Wen party, but Wei Wuxian vocally gets on board, not leaving any opportunity for whining. 

Wei Wuxian is only sucking up a little bit in this scene. He obviously has a lot of affection for Jiang Fengmian, but WWX doesn't play up to his favoritism nearly as much as he could. Compare, for example, how he leans into Yanli's preferential treatment of him.  

Fight Outside the Cold Cave

Over on the Gusu side of the country province township, the disciples have gathered outside the cold cave that previously none of them knew about, and Su She is freaking out. 

Most of the acting in The Untamed is naturalistic, but then there are occasional characters who are portrayed with a much more theatrical, broad style. Su She's villainy is not given a lot of layers; he's playing a type, more than a person.

Many of the villains in The Untamed are played this way, but not all. Wen Zhuliu, for example, is a genuinely horrifying bad guy while also conveying depth and ambivalence--despite having hardly any lines. And JGY is a masterpiece of a performance. For Su She, the directors or the actor have opted for "sniveling backstabber" as a type, which is unfortunate, because it robs his final scenes of emotional impact.

Lan Qiren tells the disciples to get to safety. He rushes forward, gamely getting his ass kicked by human cuisinart Wen Xu.  He's not as effective a warrior as either of his nephews but he's a brave S.O.B.

Hanguang Jun to the Rescue

Before things can go completely pear-shaped, Lan Wangji sails in with his guqin.

The Blue Steel technique of the Lan Clan

Like many gifted learners, Lan Wangji's musical abilities are more advanced than his social skills. Here he musically makes the ground literally explode, almost as if it had been specially rigged with incendiary charges.  

Lan Wangji is very pretty when he's worried, and his affection and concern for his uncle is touching. He's 100% not interested, as we will see, in Lan Qiren's whole "lets all die for the future of the Lan Clan while my nephews hide" agenda. He's on his own agenda of smiting the wicked and protecting the weak.

Notice how Su She is standing right next to Lan Qiren here, even holding his arm? The next thing that Lan Qiren says is to tell all the disciples to keep up as they run into the cave. Somehow Su She totally does not keep up, and he gets caught outside along with a bunch of other disciples.

Giving Up

Wen Xu and his men kill most of the other caught disciples, and then threaten Su She, asking him how to get into the cave. In fear for his life, he tells them. Not cool, Su She, but possibly forgivable. Although when you voluntarily join a, you know, battle cult, physical courage is kind of an important qualifier.

But this shit here...

They didn't fucking ask about the books, douchebag.  

Su She was there in Lan Qiren's house when the two heads of his clan knelt to each other, each claiming the right to be the one to stay behind and die. And he heard Lan Qiren say that the ancient books are the foundation of the clan and that only if LXC and the books survive, will the clan continue. By giving up both men, and pointing out the book situation, Su She has totally earned his expulsion. 

Lan Wangji Takes a Stand

Lan Wangji decides, for the first but not last time, to openly defy his uncle...and it's got nothing to do with Wei Wuxian. Lan Wangji is a hero, who follows the dictates of his conscience. His conscience is extremely filial and extremely orthodox, but he’s got a growing open-minded streak.  This is going to cause a whole lot of conflicts for him over the next few years.

This time, however, he manages to skate out from under the whole disobedient, unfilial thing by citing Lan Yi's directive, which means Lan Qiren has to accept it because she's his predecessor and elder relative (She is probably not a literal ancestor, since she spent her life in a cave putting fucking headbands on fucking rabbits which probably didn’t leave time for having babies).

This is a pretty extraordinary moment for Lan Wangji and for Lan Qiren, because Lan Wangji just asserted his own form of authority to do the exact opposite of what Lan Qiren wanted, and Lan Qiren just sucked it up and let him.

It's also very different from western stories involving a holy McGuffin such as the Yin Iron. Lan Wangji's solution of "fuck it, just let the bad guys have it, it's not worth so many people dying for" is refreshing and surprising to me, a westerner raised on The One Ring, the Grail, the Death Star Plans, etc.

Lan Wangji steps out of the cave and uses a sword blast to save Su She, the ungrateful bastard, from getting stabbed by Wen Xu. Then he surrenders, and they break his leg to slow him down. This does not actually incapacitate him, because he is Lan Fucking Wangji, already a BAMF at like 17 years old. When they whack his leg, his chunk of Yin Iron falls out onto the ground.

That thing was in a magic bag of holding before. So...it just falls out when you whack him? If they whack him again will his guqin fall on the ground? What about candy?

Archery Practice at Lotus Pier

Meanwhile, back at Lotus Pier, the brothers are enjoying some quality time together before they head to the hostage-taking indoctrination.

Wei Wuxian is such a great cultivator that he can hit a distant target even when he jerks his bow upwards as he releases the arrow.

Jiang Cheng seems fairly pleased, and proud of his brother. He's competitive and fundamentally grumpy but not, at least here, a sore loser.

Club Ruohan

We go over to Da Club, where Wen Ruohan is yelling at Wen Qing for letting Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian go. He names them both, so they're becoming more and more known to their enemies. Which is not a good thing.

He menaces her with the zombie mosh crew, having them kill a dude in front of her and then saying her baby brother will be next in the circle of zombies if she tries any more stunts. Neither of them can imagine how much zombie ass her baby brother is going to kick, later in his (un)life.

Side note: What is up with WRH’s hair? Why bother pulling your hair up over your ears if you're going to leave an enormous curtain of it over your face? It's because he knows there's a wind machine next to his throne, isn’t it?

Leaving Lotus Pier

Jiang Cheng: when I ran off earlier in the year on my road trip you didn't pack a goddamn thing.

Wen Indoctrination

Is it even possible to stand next to this much active volcanic shit and not, uh, die? I live in the tornado part of the US so I don't know much about lava (yet. 2020 still has 2 months to go). But it seems like it would be hard to breathe the air. Also they appear to build houses on lava piles, which seems imprudent.  I say that even as someone who plays The Elder Scrolls Online, which is full of lava towns and nonsense like “ash farming.”

Nie Huaisang is adorable at all times, but particularly here, when he's so happy to see his friend who *didn't* fuck his gege and then abandon him without an explanation. 

Nie Huaisang: I'm so glad I can count on Wei-Xiong to be consistent and not vanish for months, or become a traumatized shell of his former self, or, like, horribly die.

Jin Zixuan isn't quite as happy to see Wei Wuxian.

Wen Chao enjoys the sound of his own voice way too much, and is malevolent and boring. On the plus side, he likes to stand with his hand stuck out in the air, which is fun for your resident photoshopper.

Nie Huaisang is so miserable every time he's holding a sword, or blade, or whichever we're supposed to call this. He's got his fan tucked into his belt, which is sweet. He is happy to give up his sword but don't you dare try to take his fan.

Meanwhile Wei Wuxian is worried about Lan Wangji, and Jiang Cheng isn't.

Lan Wangji shows up under guard, and takes his position at the front of the line, but without any extra disciples. The Wens let him change into snowy white robes after breaking his leg which will go well with arterial blood spray. He's focused and is determined not to interact with Wei Wuxian in this public context.

When I was little, I would sit near my best friend at church on Sunday, but not be allowed to talk to her until church was over, and it was exactly like this. She was good at churching and I was hyper and hated church. We are still best friends and these things are still true.

This interaction is like a thumbnail for the whole dynamic of these three boys: Lan Wangji outwardly ignoring Wei Wuxian while having many interior feelings about him; Wei Wuxian demanding attention and creating a bit of a scene, due to his very genuine caring; Jiang Cheng telling him to leave that boy alone for fuck's sake.

Lan Wangji: Stop trying to talk to me Wei Ying, I’m busy composing a song in my head about the two of us and our love for each other. 

#fytheuntamed #the untamed #the untamed gifs #the untamed meta #wei wuxian #lan wangji #jiang cheng #lan qiren #su she #jiang fengmian #restless rewatch the untamed #canary3d-original #my gifs #the untamed spoilers

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Rebirth

Chapter 2: Is This A Test?

Summary: Steve begins his life at Camp Lehigh, throwing himself into training alongside the other candidates for Operation Rebirth and is shocked when on his first day he comes face to face with someone he hadn’t been expecting to see again…

Warnings: Bad Language words. Some over the clothes making out (NSFW, 18+)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N:  I might have taken a few liberties here with the way things worked in the Army in the 40s but, let’s face it, no more than the MCU did! Any mistakes are my own. I’ll probably spot them once posted but, whatever!

This series is my contribution of sorts to the CATF 10 Year Anniversary Challenge.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

SSR Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 1

At Camp Lehigh the new recruits were met by their Sergeant, who escorted them to their quarters. There it was explained to them that as they were to form part of a programme run by the Strategic Science Reserve, a separate unit from the rest of the army training at the base, but more would become clear in an hour or so when they reported for exercise. They were then issued their standard uniform, which was awkward for Steve as even the smallest sizes felt like they drowned him but he shrugged it off reminding himself that he had finally done it. He was here, training to be a soldier.

He changed and then Sergeant Duffy appeared again, barking at them to fall in line and they followed him down to an exercise field at the rear of the barracks. Here they once more lined up, Steve taking his place in between teo men whose names he couldn’t remember and they stood, waiting.

“Recruits, attention!”  A female voice called and Steve felt his mouth drop open, because he knew the owner of said voice. “Gentlemen, I’m Agent Stark, this is Agent Carter.”  He turned to face Katie as she began walking down the line, dressed in a sharp army uniform with another woman at her side and a man behind them both who was clutching a box which contained clip files. As she reached Steve, Katie stopped and looked at him, giving him a bashful, almost apologetic smile as the other woman continued to walk.

And wait. Her surname was Stark? As in, Howard Stark? Was that her husband? Had he kissed a married woman? Fuck! Steve swallowed his worry down and averted his eyes as Katie passed down the line following Agent Carter, their eyes flicking to each man in turn.

“We supervise all operations for this division.” Agent Carter spoke in a strong British accent before she was interrupted.

“What’s with the accent, Queen Victoria?” A man further down the line stated rather obnoxiously, causing Agent Carter to stop. Katie drew up alongside her, and Steve watched as, Katie’s hands fell to her hips and she studied the man who’d spoken out of line. “Thought I was signing up for the U.S. Army!”

“What’s your name, soldier?” Agent Carter asked.

“Gilmore Hodge, your Majesty.”

At that the two women exchanged a glance and Agent Carter took a deep breath. “Step forward, Hodge.”

The man obliged, a smirk on his face as he looked around a little, no doubt to check everyone was watching.

“Put your right foot forward.” Agent Carter instructed.

“Mmm… we gonna wrestle? Cause I got a few moves I know you’ll like.” Hodge spoke, before puckering his lips up in a kissing gesture.

Then, there was a flurry of movement and in a flash Katie was behind him, jerking his arm up his back. She aimed a sharp kick to the back of his knee causing Hodge to stumble to the floor. She went with him, her knee planted firmly in the base of his spine, arm twisting even more and he gave out a yell, “Okay, okay I yield.”

Steve gave a little huff of laughter, as did the man to his right as Katie stood up, not a hair out of place and smoothed down her jacket and trousers as Hodge rose to his feet. No sooner had he done that Agent Carter punched him hard, straight in the face.

And Steve laughed a little more this time, hastily straightening his face when he noticed a man, a Colonel according to the pips on his shoulders, hopping out of jeep as he barked to the two agents.

“Agent Carter, Agent Stark.”

Both of them wheeled round, springing to attention, saluting.

“Colonel Phillips.”

“Sir.”

“I see you’re breaking in the candidates. That’s good!” He nodded to the two women before he looked down at Hodge “Get your ass up out of that dirt and stand in that line at attention 'til somebody comes and tells you what to do.”

“Yes, Sir.” Hodge scrambled to his feet and slotted back into the place he’d been stood previously, looking a little sheepish.

Steve watched as Colonel Phillips started to walk down the line, addressing the new army recruits.  “General Patton has said that wars are fought with weapons but they are won by men. We are going to win this war because we have the best men…” He paused a little at that point as he looked at Steve. Steve kept his face straight, looking directly ahead. He knew full well what the Colonel was thinking, but he was here to prove him wrong. “And because they’re gonna get better. Much better. The Strategic Scientific Reserve is an Allied effort made up of the best minds in the free world. Our goal is to create the best army in history. But every army starts with one man. At the end of this week we will choose that man. He will be the first in a new breed of super-soldiers. And they, will personally escort Adolf Hitler to the gates of Hell.”

Super-Soldiers? The end of the week? That was five days away! Steve could hear a few murmurs down the line as some of the recruits began to exchange glances.

“Did I ask any of you to talk?” Phillips barked and silence fell once more. “The man we select will go through a procedure,” he continued, “an experimental procedure that, if successful, will significantly enhance his physical stature, amplifying all his qualities and abilities. This is not something we take lightly. It is for this reason that you will be assessed not just on your current physical abilities but your mental capacity and it won’t be easy. So if any of you are having second thoughts,” he once more paused at Steve who, as before, ignored him, “speak now or forever hold your peace.”

No one made a sound.

***** Whilst Steve didn’t have much time to think about Katie for the rest of the day as most of his energy was taken by keeping up with the afternoon’s exercise, he found himself with plenty of time to think about her over dinner. He kept himself to himself, taking a seat at the end of a large table in the mess hall, unable to prevent the sullen mood he found himself in.

He knew it was stupid, as he hardly knew the dame, but he felt betrayed, and if truth be told a little confused. Betrayed at the fact she’d kept her true identity and vocation from him, confused as to why she’d kissed him, especially if she was married and knew they’d end up working together. It confounded his original opinion that she’d done it out of some kind of obligation, a thank you if you will for him stepping in that day on the street. Not that he needed to step in, it was perfectly clear now she’d been able to handle herself.

He looked down at the tasteless bully beef and dumplings, before he sighed and continued to eat. Whilst he wasn’t particularly hungry he knew that he had to keep his strength up, especially if he wanted to have any chance to complete the training that was in store tomorrow. When he’d had his fill, he took the tray over to the clear down area and headed outside into the warm New Jersey evening.

It was still light, the birds in the trees singing their melodic evening chorus as Steve headed over the camp towards the sleeping barracks he and the other Project Rebirth candidates had been assigned to. He trudged down the dirt path, hands in his baggy uniform pockets when he heard Katie shouting to him. Taking a deep breath, he stopped, and turned to face her, saluting.

“Agent Stark.”

“Woah, at ease, we ain’t on parade now!” She shook her head.

“Yes Ma’am.” He dropped his arm but kept it firmly by his side, still standing to attention, focussing on a spot slightly behind her.

“What’s with the Ma’am?” She frowned but Steve ignored her question. Her frown deepened and she cocked her head to one side. “Wait, are you angry at me?” Steve’s eyes flicked to hers for a second and he swallowed looking away causing her to sigh. “Steve, I…”

“You lied to me.” He blurted out, his eyes returning to hers and she frowned.

“No, I just didn’t tell you my full story.” She shrugged, lamely.

“Where I come from that’s called lying.”

“Oh come on, Steve, it’s not like you actually asked what I did for a living!”

“I asked if ya worked for Howard Stark.” He folded his arms. “And you said you did.”

“Well, I do, sorta…”

“Oh, is that as well as sorta being married to him?”

“Married?” Katie’s eyes narrowed before they widened again and she grinned. “What, you think…oh my God Steve!” She let out a laugh.

“You know, I’ve had my fill of people laughing at me today.” He rolled his eyes and turned to leave, an angry flush spreading up his neck.

“Howie’s my brother!”

“Your brother?” He stopped dead.

“Yes, you know, same mom, same dad.”

Steve groaned, feeling like a total, total idiot and after a moment or two of cursing himself he turned back to face her, his face bashfully tinged red. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“That you were related? Or what it is that you actually do?”

“Because I didn’t know I was supposed to.” She looked at him. “Plus, I kinda liked not being Agent Katie Stark for a moment and just being, I dunno, some regular girl.”

Steve looked at her again before he glanced away, not quite sure what had come over him. He’d literally never had a conversation with a woman that lasted longer than a few minutes, if that, and here he was for the second time with her just rolling with it, and not just that, he was actually being a little rude. His ma would not be happy.

“I’m sorry.” He offered, his manner contrite. “That was rude. I guess, well, it was just a shock, that’s all.”

“Do you know how people usually react when I tell them what I actually do?” Katie sighed, shaking her head “Most guys run a mile.”

“Well, I’m not like most guys.” Steve instantly retorted, repeating the sentiment she had expressed to him mere days ago. She blinked a little, before she gave a huff of laughter and dropped her eyes to the floor.

“Touche, Rogers. Touche.”

“Can I ask you something?” Feeling emboldened Steve asked hastily, before he chickened out.

“Sure.” She nodded.

“Did you know? That I was gonna be here, I mean.”

“Not for certain.” Katie shook her head. “I had an idea when you told me it was a doctor from a Science Division that had recruited you but until I saw your name on the new-recruit roster this morning, I didn’t know for sure.”

“Right.” Steve nodded, licking his lips a little.

“Does it matter?” Katie frowned.

“Not especially.” He popped a shoulder. “Just kinda figured that if you knew you’d be seeing me each day, you wouldn’t have…you know…”

“Kissed you?”

“Yeah, that.” Steve felt the heat rise in his neck as he thought back to that moment. He ran his hand through his hair in a nervous fashion. “I mean I know you probably did it because you either felt kinda sorry for me or like you hadda thank me but this has gotta be awkward for you right? Seeing me every day as a reminder, but it’s not like I told anyone so-“

“Woah, woah, stop!” Katie shook her head, stepping towards him. “Steve, I don’t care who you told. I’m not embarrassed if that’s what you think.”

“You’re not?”

“No!” Katie looked at him like he was stupid. “And I didn’t kiss you because I felt sorry for you or because I felt I owed you, I kissed you because I wanted to.”

“You wanted to.” Steve looked at her, not quite sure if he believed her or not.

“Is that so hard to comprehend?”

“Frankly, yes!” He snorted. “I mean, look at ya. You’re…” he gestured with his hand towards her. “And I’m…”

“Well lucky for you I’m not a shallow bimbo then isn’t it?” She said, an air of annoyance in her tone. “I might be a Stark, and yes, I’m privileged which means I’m expected to act a certain way with a certain type of man from a certain type of background. Maybe I just wanna act how I wanna act, with who I choose. And your assumption right then? That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you.”

“Katie, I didn’t-” But even by the time he’d finished half his sentence, she’d turned on her heel and left “-mean it like that.” He finished a little lamely, watching her go. His hands dropped to his bony hips and he glanced at the floor, toeing the dirt slightly before he looked up and around.

He felt so out of place, the one thing he’d wanted to do and now he was here he felt as small and as insignificant as he had ever felt. And to top it off, he’d just upset probably the one person he could have relied upon for support. But it was more than that. He felt guilty, guilty that he’d upset her and made assumptions about her, when he actually in all fairness knew nothing about her. He’d judged a book by its cover, which was what he hated everyone doing to him. With a final groan he turned and headed back towards the sleeping quarters, to unpack the small chest of belongings he’d brought with him.

If today was anything to go by, it was going to be a long week.

***** Long was an understatement.

By Monday morning,  Steve had done five different physical assault courses, various runs loaded with equipment, taken part in a number of logic puzzles, had a one on one interview with Colonel Phillips, completed written, arithmetic and geography tests and been subject to another medical examination.  He was now on a fuck knows how many miles drill run, being barked at once more by Sergeant Duffy.

“Pick up the pace, ladies! Let’s go!”

Steve was running as fast as he could, but still lagged ten or fifteen yards behind the main formation of the group. His legs ached, his chest hurt but he was damned if he was giving up.

"Double time! Come on! Faster! Faster! Move! Move!”  Sergeant Duffy instructed as they rounded the corner of the dirt path, drawing up behind a jeep which was parked by a flag pole surrounded by white rocks on the ground. “Squad, halt!”

Finally, Steve could catch his breath. He bent over, hands on his knees as he inhaled deeply, watching the group of men as they gathered around their leader.

“That flag means we’re only at the halfway point.”

Half way? Great…just great.

“First man to bring it to me gets a ride back with Agent Carter. Move, move!”

Steve pushed his helmet back up his head, remaining where he was simply watching as the entire unit all tried to climb the pole. It was a free for all, men pushing each other out of the way, elbows flying, fists flailing. Steve however scanned the pole up and down, his brain logically thinking it through. There had to be a way to get that flag down without having to climb the pole, otherwise how did they put it up there in the first place?

“If that’s all you got, this army’s in trouble!” Duffy snapped “Get up there, Hodge! Come on! Get up there!”

Hodge, who had made it a few feet further than everyone else slid down to the ground and Duffy stood back, his arms folded, smirking a little. “Nobody’s got that flag in seventeen years!” He shook his head “Now fall back into line! Come on, fall in!”

That signalled the end of the little pole exercise, but not for Steve. As everyone cleared away he walked towards it, glancing first at the bottom of the pole, then up to the top, squinting slightly against the sun. If he was right…

“Rogers! I said fall in!” Duffy barked, but Steve ignored him as he bent down and pulled the pin out at the bottom of the pole causing it to fall with a loud crash to the ground in a cloud of dust. He tossed the pin to the floor with a clang as everyone fell silent, watching as he removed the flag from the rope which held it to the pole. He handed it to Sergeant Duffy on his way past.

“Thank you, sir.” He said gently as he climbed into the back of the jeep. Agent Carter turned to face him from her seat in the front and he shot her a smile which she returned, an amused look spreading across her features.

Steve was damned glad of that ride home as, following lunch, they were subjected to another physical activity, this one a seemingly endless circuit training involving star jumps, push up, sit ups you name it.

“Faster, ladies!” Agent Carter barked, as they were all busy doing push ups “Come on. My grandmother has more life in her, God rest her soul. Move it!”

A few more sets and she barked at them to get up, which they obeyed, springing to their feet just as Agent Stark arrived with Colonel Phillips and Dr Erskine. The three of them were clearly mid some debate, Katie looked a little annoyed and turned to Phillips snapping at him, her face flashing with anger. Erskine put his hand on her shoulder and shook his head gently and she rolled her eyes, turning away and looking over towards the group of men.  She locked eyes with Steve who watched her for a second, before Agent Carter’s voice hit his ears and he began the jumping jacks she had instructed them to partake in.

“Come on, girls.”

Steve had no idea how many he did, but he continued going, his arms and legs both spreading and then coming back together as he made jump after jump. He grit his teeth, powering through the burn he was feeling in his muscles, tossing his head out of the way slightly as his dog tags bounced off his chest after a particularly energetic leap, smacking him straight in the nose.

And then he heard it.

“GRENADE!”

All logic flew from Steve’s head and as the rest of the unit scattered he instinctively dived towards the explosive, covering it with his body, curling his knees into his chest in an attempt to minimise the impact to everyone round him.

“Get away!” He yelled, waving his arm as Agent Carter ran towards him, “get back!”

He remained curled in on himself, waiting and waiting but nothing happened. Eventually he looked up, to see everyone was slowly starting to go back to normal and he sat up, frowning a little, his mouth hanging slightly open.

“It was a dummy grenade. All clear. Back in formation.” Someone spoke as Steve glanced first at Agent Carter then over to Phillips and Erskine and finally Agent Stark. As his eyes met hers a smile crossed her face and a flash of something that looked suspiciously like pride filled her pretty features.

“Is this is a test?” He asked as he sat on the floor, completely bemused at what had just happened.

Katie tore her eyes from his to turn to Dr Erskine who was also smiling and they both simultaneously moved their attention to Colonel Phillips. He shot them both a withering look as he spoke before he turned to walk away. As he passed Katie he stopped, pointed to Steve who was now getting to his feet and she nodded, saluting.

Erskine beamed at Steve before he turned to follow Phillips away, once again patting Katie’s shoulder as he left. Steve dusted himself down and then simply watched as Katie walked over to Agent Carter, his eyes following her every move. She whispered something to the other woman who raised her eyebrows, a soft smile crossing her face. Both women then looked at him, before Peggy gave Katie a curt nod as she called the remaining soldiers back into line.

“Private Rogers,” Katie spoke, her eyes soft as she glanced at him, “with me.”

“Ma’am.” He scrambled after her, tripping over his feet slightly as he hurried to catch up with her, glancing back at the line of men who were now being addressed by Agent Carter before she dismissed them all.

“What…where are the rest of the guys goin’?” he began to ask and Katie turned to look at him as he fell into step besides her, to her left.

“They’re leaving.”

“Leaving?” Steve frowned.

“Yup.” Katie nodded as she led him across the training field and onto the gravel track. “They’ll be re-assigned to other units.”

“Other units?” Steve frowned, before her words finally registered “You mean…”

Katie stopped and turned to look at him, smiling as she brushed some of the dirt from his shoulder. “Congratulations. You’re gonna become our first Super Soldier.”

Steve blinked, swallowed and then shook his head. “Is this a joke?”

“No.” Katie shook her head. “I can assure you this is deadly serious.” She took a deep breath and turned to walk down the track to her right.

“Why me?” Steve blurted out as they rounded a row of military jeeps

Katie smiled at him “The fact you’re even asking that should tell you everything you need to know. But if you really want the detailed answer, you should ask Abe.”

“Who?”

“Dr Erskine.”

“Okay, I will, where is he?” Steve looked round almost as if he expected the Doctor to appear form behind the munitions store they were passing.

“I suspect on his way to Brooklyn to meet Howie at the lab.” Katie replied “He’ll be back later so you can talk to him then.”

“The lab’s in Brooklyn?” The surprise was evident in Steve’s voice as Katie led him to one of the large green dome like structures that housed the offices. “So that’s why you were there that day.”

Katie grinned. “Not just a pretty face, are ya?” She stood still, snapping to attention and saluted to the guard on the door who immediately saluted back.

“Agent Stark.” He greeted as he stepped to his right, opening the door for them both to step into. Steve followed behind her down a long corridor. They turned left at the end and Katie stopped outside a door to their right which held a name tag informing them that it was Colonel Phillips’ office.  She gave a sharp rap, and then without waiting for an answer opened the door and stepped in, Steve following.

The Colonel looked up as they entered the room, placing the pen he’d been writing with down on his desk.

“Shut the door.” Phillips barked and Steve scrambled to do as he was told before he drew himself up tall and saluted his superior. “At ease, Rogers.”

“Sir.” Steve nodded and relaxed as much as he could. At that point there was another knock on the door and he turned to see Agent Carter step inside.

“Ma’am.” Steve nodded to Peggy who smiled at him.

“So, I’m assuming Agent Stark has given you the low down?” Phillips spoke and Steve turned back to him, giving a nod.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, saves me a job.”

“When don’t I?” Katie quipped and Steve’s eyes widened at the fact she’d basically just sassed a superior officer. There was a moment’s pause before Phillips snorted.

“One of these days, Agent Stark, that mouth is gonna get you into trouble.”

“I look forward to it.”

Phillips shot her another look which she met with a smirk and he scoffed a little, turning his attention to Steve. “So, Rogers, Dr Erskine has chosen you as the candidate to become our first Super Soldier.”

“It’s an honor, Sir.”

“Do you have any questions?” Peggy looked at Steve.

Steve pondered for a second. Truth be told he had a lot of questions, but the biggest one, the why, that was going to have to wait for Dr Erskine himself. He took a deep breath and looked up at the Agent before his eyes flicked to Colonel Phillips, and back again.

“What does the procedure actually entail?”

“Agent Stark, you wanna take this?” Phillips looked at her and she nodded.

“You’ll be injected with Erskine’s formula.” Katie looked at Steve “This will cause immediate change to your cells, your DNA. Then to stimulate the change and growth, you’ll be subjected to an intense permeation of Vita-Rays, in a chamber that my brother and Erskine developed especially.”

“Is it safe?” Steve asked.

Katie took a deep breath and shrugged. “On the animal test subjects we’ve used, yeah but I’m not gonna lie to you Steve, other than a Nazi scientist named Johan Schmidt the serum hasn’t been tested on any human subject.”

“What happened to this Schmidt guy?” Steve asked and Katie looked at Phillips, then Peggy, and when she turned back to him he swallowed a little at the look of apprehension on her face.

“It didn’t go the way he planned, but that said the formula was incomplete. Erskine will be able to tell you more tomorrow.” She answered softly. Steve thought on her words for a moment, his eyes still locked onto hers as she licked her lips, offering him nothing but a shrug. “In simple terms, we don’t know if it’s gonna work or not. So you need to think carefully.”

“When is it gonna happen?”

“The procedure will take place tomorrow morning.” Agent Carter spoke. “So you have little over fourteen hours.”

“So despite what Agent Stark says,” Phillips spoke, shooting Katie a look which she met with an equally annoyed one of her own, “there’s little to no time for contemplation.”

“There’s fourteen hours…” Katie began to protest.

“Did I ask for your input?” Phillips snapped and she narrowed her eyes.

“No, you never do. Maybe if you did we-“

“If you want to remain part of this unit you’ll stop that sentence right there.” Phillips pointed at her. Katie’s mouth pressed into a thin line and she folded her arms, shaking her head as she looked away. Steve’s eyes turned back to Phillips who spoke. “If you want out, now is the time to speak up so we can find someone else. Are you in, Rogers? Because if you are, after this meeting and you leave this room, there’s no going back.”

“But I’ve only had like five days of basic training.” Steve frowned “Is that going to be enough?”

“We’re on a schedule.” Phillips shrugged, “It’s going to have to be.”

“Your basic training, or lack thereof, shouldn’t be a problem.” Peggy shook her head “Our intention is to continue to train you up fully so that you’re prepared to lead the others who we, well, who we convert.”

Steve took a deep breath and glanced once more at Katie, who was staring to her left, her jaw set. Was he in? He began to logically step through things in his head. Steve wasn’t an idiot, he knew full well that if he said no he’d be shipped off to another unit and likely sent home or shoved into some kind of non-combat role due to his current lack of physical abilities or strength. The serum might not work, but then what? He ended up deformed? Or dead? But if he was perfectly honest with himself, having had a taste of what it was like to do what he always wanted to, if the opportunity was taken away from him, he might as well be dead anyway.

It was a no brainer as far as he was concerned. He had to do this.

“I’m in.” Steve nodded, his voice loaded with conviction as he gave a firm nod.

To the side of him Katie took a deep breath, an action mimicked by Colonel Phillips, before the older man turned to Agent Carter who stepped to the side revealing a piece of paper on the desk.

“In that case then I need you to sign this.” Phillips said “It’s a form stating that you consent to the procedure. Just a formality that Stark is insisting on.”

“God forbid we do things properly.” Katie mumbled. Phillips shot her another withering glare before he waved a pen at Steve. Steve stepped forward, took the pen off him and glanced down at the form. His eyes scanned it and then, without further hesitation he scribbled his name on the space at the bottom.

“Congratulations Private Rogers.” Phillips nodded as Agent Carter moved to place the form in a filing cabinet at the back.

“So, now what do I do?” Steve asked.

“You can do what the hell you want, within reason.” Phillips shrugged “But you can’t leave base, can’t risk anything happening to you. Not now.”

“By the time you get back to your barracks, everyone else will have packed up and left so I suggest you make the most of the peace and quiet.” Agent Carter smiled. “Because you’re going to be pretty busy from Tomorrow onwards.”

Steve nodded to show he understood and then he was dismissed. Saluting to Phillips he turned to leave the room, followed by Katie who herself was leaving to see her brother.

“Is there anything in particular you’d like to eat tonight?” She asked him as they left the building. “And I don’t mean any of the shit they serve in the mess.”

Steve looked up. “I suppose some of Mrs Tromley’s home made preserve is out of the question?”

“Leave it with me.” She smiled and Steve looked at her for a second before he took a deep breath.

“Look, Agent- Katie, I err, wanted to apologise for my outburst the other night. I was rude and…”

“It’s okay, I don’t hold a grudge.” She paused and turned to face him. “Alright that’s a lie, I do. But only against people who deserve it.”

“And I don’t?” Steve asked with a slight smile and she shrugged.

“For now, no. Plenty of time for me to change my mind though.” And with that, just as she had done at the expo she turned and left him standing there, tossing him a wink over her shoulder as she walked away.

 *****

Katie came through with the preserve, a small jar along with a crusty cob of bread was waiting in his bunk later that evening when he returned from the bathroom cabin. He ate sat on his bed, mulling everything over in his mind before he stood up and decided to go for a walk. He found a nice quiet spot hidden behind one of the munition sheds and sat to draw for a while, a particularly gnarled old tree the target of his attention. When the light diminished too much for him to see properly, he headed back and dropped his sketchbook into his rucksack before he settled down with a book open on his lap.

For the next few hours he tried to read but none of it was really sinking in. He had butterflies in his stomach, not nerves as such, but apprehension, definitely, at what he was letting himself in for. As he re-read the same sentence he’d been looking at for the last ten minutes, there was a knock at the door which made him jump slightly and he turned to look over his left shoulder as Dr Erskine stood in the doorway, a bottle and two glasses in his hand.

“May I?”

“Yeah.” Steve nodded, closing the book as Erskine walked over the floor, placing the glass on the trunk at the end of Steve’s bed.

“Can’t sleep?” Erskine asked as he moved towards the bed opposite Steve.

“I got the jitters, I guess.” Steve shrugged.

Erskine laughed “Me, too.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Steve dropped the book he had been reading down on the trunk next to the glass.

“Just one?” Erskine looked at Steve as he sat down facing him. Steve still had a lot of questions, but the one he wanted an answer to most was the one that flew out of his mouth.

“Why me?”

“I suppose that is the only question that matters.” Erskine said after a moment’s pause. He looked down at the bottle of schnapps he brought with him, turning the label so Steve could see it. “This is from Augsburg. My city. So many people forget that the first country that the Nazi’s invaded was their own.” He took a breath “You know, after the last war my people struggled. They felt weak. They felt small. And then Hitler comes along with the marching and the big show and the flags and the… and the… “ Erskine waved his hand as he took a deep breath, straightening his glasses “And he… he hears of me, my work and he finds me. And he says, ‘You’,” Erskine pointed to emphasise his point, “he says, ‘you will make us strong.’ Well, I am not interested.” Erskine shook his head as he placed the bottle on the floor between his feet, Steve’s eyes following his movements “So he sends the head of HYDRA, his research division. A brilliant scientist by the name of Johann Schmidt.”

That name Steve recognised from before, the one Katie told him about. He watched as Erskine continued talking, once more pushing his glasses up his nose. “Now, Schmidt is a member of the inner circle and he’s ambitious. He and Hitler share a passion for occult power and Teutonic myth. Hitler uses his fantasies to inspire his followers. But for Schmidt, it is not fantasy. For him, it is real. He has become convinced that there is a great power hidden in the Earth, left here by the Gods, waiting to be seized by a superior man. So when he hears about my formula and what it can do, he cannot resist.” Erskine paused as Steve looked at him, understanding immediately he was referring to Schmidt taking the formula. “Schmidt must become that superior man.”

Remembering what Katie had said, about it not going according to plan he looked at Erskine. “Did it make him stronger?”

“Yeah. But, there were other effects.” Erskine conceded, but didn’t elaborate further. “The serum was not ready. But more important, the man. The serum amplifies everything that is inside. So, good becomes great. Bad becomes worse.” He explained and Steve glanced down, taking all the information in “This is why you were chosen.”

At that Steve looked back up at him, his brow furrowing deeply as Erskine continued “Because a strong man, who has known power all his life, will lose respect for that power. But a weak man knows the value of strength, and knows compassion.”

“Thanks,” Steve said, frowning slightly, “I think.” He glanced at Erskine who smiled at him, and then waved in the direction of the two glasses on the trunk at the foot of the bed. As Steve took the glasses, pulling the top one out with his right hand, Erskine uncorked the schnapps and began to pour the liquid.

“Whatever happens tomorrow, you must promise me one thing.” Erskine said, corking the bottle one more and setting it down on the floor “That you will stay who you are.” Erskine took a glass off Steve and stared straight into his eyes, almost as if he was trying to drive the message home. “Not a perfect soldier, but a good-“ he pointed at Steve’s chest “- man.”

Steve took a deep breath, holding his glass up and he allowed that fleeting warmth of pride spread across his chest, just for a second, as he smiled. “To the little guys.”

“Ha ha!” Erskine agreed, chinking his glass against Steve’s but just as Steve was about to take a drink Erskine suddenly spluttered. “No! No! Wait! Wait! What I am doing?” He reached out, taking Steve’s glass off him “No! You have a procedure tomorrow. No fluids.”

Seriously?

Steve watched as Erskine poured the contents of Steve’s glass into his own and sighed a little, he’d been looking forward to that.

“All right. We’ll drink it after.” He shrugged.

“No! I don’t have procedure tomorrow.” Erskine gestured towards himself. “Drink it after? I drink it now.”

Steve gave a small smile as the doctor knocked back the clear liquid in the glass and was just about to speak to tease him a little about making sure he had a clear head for the morning, when there was another knock on the door. Steve’s head turned to look as Katie stepped inside the dorm, smiling.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you had company.” She looked at Erskine whose mouth curled up a little at one side in a knowing smirk.

“And that is my cue to leave.” He stood up. “I will see you in the morning, Steven.”

He squeezed Steve’s shoulder as he strode past, the bottle of schnapps in his hand as Katie moved to allow him through the doorway. He smiled once more before he shut the door behind him leaving the pair of them in the dim light of the bare sleeping room. Steve looked at Katie, inhaling deeply as even in the simple combat trousers and plain khaki t-shirt she was wearing she still looked effortlessly gorgeous. Her hair was pulled back off her face in a simple braid, and her skin was devoid of her usual make up, lips clear of their normal bright red paint. He realised with a slight swallow that this is what she’d look like at home, last thing at night and first thing in the morning…

He shifted a little on the side of his bed and watched as she walked over to take the spot Erskine had vacated.

“Are you supposed to be in here?” Steve finally spoke and she shrugged.

“Well, it probably wouldn’t be seen as appropriate if we were caught but…” She paused and gave a twitch of a smirk, “Steve, you’re gonna become a super soldier tomorrow, you can do what the hell you want!”

He inhaled a little sharply at her words as those inappropriate thoughts once more reared in his head and he felt his neck and cheeks grow warm.

“You’re adorable when you’re flustered.” She smiled.

“Thanks?” he shook his head before he glanced up at her. “So why are you here?”

“I wanted to see how you were.” She shrugged.

“Why?” he frowned.

“Why?” She looked at him, as if he’d just asked her the dumbest question on the planet. “Because I care about you Steve.”

“You care about me?” He repeated, the disbelief evident in his tone.

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “Of course I do.”

Steve watched her for a moment, and for the first time he caught a glimpse of something a little less composed under her normally cool and confident exterior. She was biting her lip, her teeth worrying at her plump bottom one as her right hand gently pulled at the knuckles of her left.

“You’re nervous.” He spoke suddenly and her eyes locked onto his, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. “What is it?”

“Nothing, just, well, this is a huge thing, Steve. A culmination of years of work from not just the SSR but Stark Industries, and Erskine.” She looked at him and shook her head, giving a little snort. “God I know that sounds pathetic compared to what you must be feeling.”

“Well, I’m a little twitchy, that’s fo’ sure, but I’m not scared scared, does that make sense?” He asked and she looked at him, a smile twisting on her lips.

“That’s because you’re ridiculously brave.”

“Or stupid.” He shrugged and she laughed, shaking her head.

“That’s one word I really wouldn’t use to describe you. I heard about the flag.”

“Yeah?” Steve chuckled a little and she grinned.

“Peggy said it was the best thing she’d ever seen. No one’s rendered Sergeant Duffy speechless before but he was pretty impressed that night at briefing.”

“It was just logic.” Steve flushed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’m pretty good at using my head. You haff’ to be when you’re as small and as weak as I am.”

“Don’t.” Katie shook her head.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t say that. You’re not weak.”

At that Steve gave a snort. “Come on Doll, physically I’m a wreck. That’s one of the reasons Erskine picked me.” no sooner had he spoke, he realised what he’d said and his eyes widen at the involuntary use of the pet term but Katie merely laughed, arching her brow.

“Doll?”

“Sorry Ma’am.” He winced “Just slipped out.”

“I’m flattered.” She chuckled, before giving a sigh. “But back to what you just said, about why Erskine picked you. It isn’t just because you’re physically weak. It’s because that serum amplifies everything about you Steve…”

“Yeah, good becomes great, bad becomes worse.” Steve repeated the words Erskine had spoken to him not five minutes ago.

“Exactly.” Katie looked at him. “Erskine could have chosen any one of the guys that were in here with you, but he didn’t. He saw something in you, something that none of the others had.” She bit her lip and grinned as she leaned back slightly on the bed. “You’re a lion disguised as a lamb, Rogers.” “Oh, jeez!” He snorted shaking his head as she laughed. “Now you sound like Bucky, that’s the kinda nonsense that jerk would come out with.”

At that Katie wrinkled her nose. “In that case I take it back.”

“Thank you, now I feel great.” Steve retorted sarcastically and she laughed loudly, snorting as she did so. Her eyes widened and she clamped her hand over her mouth as Steve chuckled at her very un-lady like manner, his head falling forward as his own laughs rang out around the barracks. Eventually, Katie managed to stop, wiping her eyes and she shook her head.

“Sometimes I think it’s a blessing my parents are no longer around. My mom especially would be horrified if they could see how uncouth I act at times.”

“I dunno.” He shrugged. “If you were my daughter I’d be pretty proud of how you turned out.”

Katie smiled shyly at his compliment. “Thanks Stevie. I’m sure yours would feel the same.”

He didn’t ask how she knew his parents were both dead, it was fairly obvious she would have read his file. Instead he simply smiled and looked down at his hands “I like to think so. Although I’m pretty sure if my ma was still around and knew what I was doing tomorrow she’d have a coupla’ things to say about it. And a few slaps ready for the back ‘o ma head!”

“Tell me about it.” Katie chuckled, “If my dad could see me here, right now. Man, he’d be apoplectic. ‘The army is no place for a woman’!” She mimicked a deep voice before she shook her head. “Mind you, not like I’ve never heard it before.” She took a deep breath and looked at him. “You’ve never commented on it though.”

Steve blinked and then shook his head, shrugging. “That’s not how my ma brought me up. She was a single parent for all my life, anything a man could do in the house she did just as well. Besides, I know what it’s like to be told no because of what or who you are.”

“Ironically, who I am kinda got me through the door.” Katie shrugged, and when Steve looked at her pondering what she meant, she continued. “I was already working for the CIA when Howie told me that Colonel Phillips had approached him about working for the SSR. Naturally I wanted in but of course there were grumbles about it because I was a female. But my brother put his foot-down, said we came as a team, so they relented. Plus, Peggy, or Agent Thirteen was she was then, was already in deep cover working for Schmidt as a maid in his personal mansion.” She licked he lips and shrugged. “Colonel Phillips convinced the CIA to send me undercover as Peggy’s friend, a go-between if you will meaning there was less risk of her cover being blown.” She paused and glanced at him as Steve simply watched, rapt with attention. “Over the next few months we obtained details of Schmidt’s plan, what he was intending to do with Erskine’s serum and we knew we couldn’t possibly let the Nazi’s perfect it. Since we rescued Erskine, he and Howard have been working on finishing the formula, building the necessary equipment to ensure that it works. And Peggy and I were given our reward which was permission to serve in the allied army as SSR Agents.”

“Permission?” Steve deadpanned and Katie snorted.

“Yup.”

“Interesting reward.”

“I’d have taken whatever chance they gave to me.” She shrugged. “It’s all I ever wanted to do.”

Steve looked at her, the similarities in their stories were striking even despite their different backgrounds. But he still didn’t get it. She was beautiful, could have married well, just like most gals of her status, and his confusion must have shown as she cocked her head to one side and studied him for a moment before she spoke again.

“Don’t you think I was right to do so?”

“No, I mean, yes I do. I guess I’m just curious as to why you’d wanna join the army if you’re a beautiful dame.”

At that both her eyebrows raised and he cursed himself. He’d managed most of this conversation so far not to put his foot in his mouth and now, wham, kicked himself straight in the teeth. “Or a beautiful… a woman.” He floundered for words “An agent, not a dame! You are beautiful, but…”

“Why do you get so nervous when you speak to me?” Katie asked and Steve shook his head, giving a little huff as she called him out, groaning a little.

“Because up until the point I met you I think the longest conversation I ever had with a woman would have been with Mrs Barnes or Mrs Tomley.” he looked up at her, before he glanced back down at his hands. “Women aren’t exactly lining up to dance with a guy they might step on.”

“You must have danced?” Katie frowned, and she seemed genuinely surprised at what he was admitting.

“Well, asking a woman to dance always seems so terrifying.” Steve shrugged “And the past few years just didn’t seem to matter that much. Figured I’d wait.”

“For what?”

“The right partner.” He said, his eyes still focussed on his hands. He could feel Katie looking at him and eventually he raised his eyes to see her smiling softly at him.

“Well, I think all the girls in Brooklyn are dumbasses for not noticing you.”  With her words she stood up and crossed to the bed he was sat on, taking a spot besides him. Steve swallowed, his entire body going rigid at the fact she was so close to him and she turned her face to look into his eyes. “You’re sweet”

He chuckled “You know I hear that a lot…you’re really sweet and all but…“

“Like I said,” she bumped her shoulder against his slightly, “dumbasses”

Steve looked at her before he felt his cheeks once more growing warm and he looked away, hastily, focussing on nothing in particular as her words echoed around his head. He didn’t know how to respond to praise, not in the sense in which she was giving it to him anyway.

“But seriously, why does me complimenting you make you so awkward, Steve?” She asked, and despite himself Steve’s head shot up to look at her once more, his mouth falling open at the fact that she’d unwittingly just read his mind.

He took a deep breath. “I guess I’m not used to it, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry if it makes you feel awkward.” She bit her bottom lip and looked down at her hands for a moment before she glanced back at him, her features soft, eyes alive in the dim light. “But I just, well, I like you Steve,” she whispered, “I mean, really like you.”

Steve felt his mouth go dry as her eyes flicked down to his lips, the same way they had at the Expo and he swallowed, the lump thick in his throat.

“I err, I…” He took a deep breath, the palms of his hands feeling clammy, those green emeralds sparkling as he looked at her, his mind willing him to summon the courage to say what he wanted to. And before he could chicken out, he blurted the words. “I like you too.”

Her cheeks flushed pink and she gently moved towards him, closing the already small distance between them as Steve reached up, with a shaky right hand, his actions completely instinctual. He gently cupped her cheek as his lips found hers and he kissed her, tentatively at first before soon the kiss was as deep as it had been at the Expo. His spare hand balled into a fist by his side as he was unsure exactly what to do with it until he felt Katie’s fingers gently work his away from his palm and she pulled his left arm towards her. Following her lead, he tentatively pressed his palm onto her hip as she shifted her weight slightly, wrapping her arms round his neck. She pulled him closer, the kiss growing deeper and Steve couldn’t help the soft little whimper that rolled in his throat.

As the involuntary noise filed the air between them he felt Katie’s lips smile against his and then, he was pitching forward as she fell slowly backwards, pulling him down with her as she sank onto the bunk. The movement came as surprise but he didn’t resist. With a shaky breath he paused for a moment, realising he had absolutely no idea what to do next other than run with it. So, after a second or so more deliberation, he went once more with his gut and crawled over her, resting his weight on his palms which he placed either side of her head before he dropped his face to hers and kissed her again. Her lips felt so soft against his, something he wasn’t sure he’d taken the time to appreciate before, or maybe it was all simply heightened by the fact he was lay over her, he had no idea. But what he did know was that when Katie placed both hands on his face, the pads of her finger tips cupping his jaw, it sent a jolt of electricity tingling all the way down his spine. She was the one to break away this time, breathing deeply as her head rest on his hard, army issued pillow, her eyes bouncing across both of his.

“You okay?” She asked and Steve nodded.

“Yeah, I err…” He swallowed and gave a little huff of shy laughter as he hung his head a little, peeking up a her shyly “I don’t know what I’m doing, or even if we should be doing it at all.”

“What do you mean if we should be doing it at all?”

“Well, we’re not…” He licked his lips “I mean, I should be taking you out, on a date or…well, at least doing things properly, not just…”

“Steve, we’re in the middle of a damned war.” Katie looked at him, cutting his protests off dead. “Every day could be your last, to hell with rules and being prim and proper.”

Steve had to concede she had a point, and as he looked into her eyes he could feel that last thread of his self-control starting to fray. Every inch of his body was on fire for her, he wanted nothing more than to kiss her stupid and feel her underneath him.

“Don’t over think it.” She muttered, her lips ghosting over his. “Just run with it.”

So he did. He kissed her hard, dropping to his elbows and pressing a little more of his weight on top of her, totally lost in her warmth and softness. He let out another soft sigh as he felt her shift underneath him and pulled away, turning his head so that his lips were inches from her neck as he recalled a part of a film he’d seen. He glanced up at her as she watched him, her pupils blown with a combination of lust and anticipation.

“Can I kiss you here?” He whispered softly.

“God, yes.” Katie sighed and he obliged, pressing his mouth to her neck. As he did so, his arms and hands moved downwards slowly, his fingers timidly resting on her hips as they gave a little jerk of their own accord, pushing up against him as she groaned slightly at the contact.  Steve pulled back to stare at her again, her noise shocking him slightly, not sure what to do next but Katie wordlessly answered his silent question by tilting her hips up again, and this time it was him who moaned.

“Katie, I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this or do anything-”

“It’s okay,” she said, her voice low and slightly breathy as she looked at him, her eyes, locking onto his. She pushed her head upwards, mouth seeking his out as her hands slid under his t- shirt. He twitched under her touch as the sensation of her gently dragging her nails across his flat, soft stomach sent a spike of desire, like a red hot poker through his entire body. Katie grasped the bottom of his T-shirt and he hesitated, not sure if he really wanted her to see him topless, but she gave an impatient yank, taking the decision away from him and he held his arms up so she could remove it. Once he was free he glanced down to see Katie looking at his chest. He swallowed, as her eyes roved his various pox marks and scars and shivered as she let her hands wander, tracing a path down towards the top of his khaki pants. Her eyes met his and she sat up slightly pushing him back a little to allow herself enough room to reach down and pull her own T-shirt over her head.

Steve’s mouth was dry again as he glanced down at her chest, her hair falling around her shoulders, breasts spilling over the tops of the simple, black balcony cups of her bra and his groin twitched, the crotch of his pants now painfully tight.

“You’re beautiful…” he whispered gently, and then he kissed her again. Her fingers gently took his hands and she guided them onto her, sliding them up her rib cage to her chest and he froze as he found himself once more unsure of his next move. Swallowing hard against the lump that felt like it was obstructing his entire throat he began to gently squeeze and knead the soft flesh and black lace, before he stopped again to consider his next move.

“It’s okay,” she encouraged and with a nod, his hands slid into the cups, teasing her taught nipples with his thumbs, acting completely on instinct, listening and watching her as she groaned gently, arching her back, her reaction telling him he was doing something right as all the time his groin automatically bumped against hers. Katie buried her fingers in his hair, pulling hard, forcing his head back sharply and as she tugged he let out another low growl. When she let go he stared down at her to see her smirking, her pupils blown so wide there was hardly any green left.

“Don’t stop,” her hands moved down to grab at his lower back, pulling him back against her as she moved her knees, bending them so that his pelvis was flush with her, his cock hard through the thin fabric of his trousers. Taking her lead, Steve ground against her again, and again, and as he continued his movements, he became aware that the rhythm of his hips was becoming more frantic and their kisses were growing more desperate.

“More,” Katie moaned into his mouth, and with movements that were completely and utterly automatic he gave her what she wanted, moving his hips even faster, rubbing against her in ways that had her clutching at his back like her life depended on it. Steve had never felt anything like this in his life. It was so good, so right, in a way nothing had ever felt so right before. It should have been wrong, rutting up against someone fully clothed, but God, his head was a whirl of lust, desire, and he didn’t give a fuck about anything else at that moment other than her as she lay underneath him

As he pressed up against her, the tightening across his lower stomach that he’d only felt before when bringing himself off warned him he was fast approaching his release. He let out another groan as he felt his movements beginning to lose rhythm and he moved his lips to her neck, pressing a kiss to her skin. Katie moaned brokenly and his mouth continued pressing kisses to the spot on her neck which seemed to drive her wild. She tipped her head back as he gently nipped beneath her ear with his teeth and a few more sloppy grinds against her she was done, fingers wrapped around his hair, her, hips bucking upwards, almost violently. Her voice was broken as she gasped out “Stevie…”and it was the single most beautiful sound he’d ever heard in his life as it tumbled from her lips. Seeing and feeling her fall apart in his arms sent him over the edge right behind her in a pure surge of ecstasy, his head dropping  to the crook of her shoulder and she gently ran her fingers through his hair.

There was no noise bar the sound of the crickets drifting in from the outside as they both lay, breathing deeply as they waited to regain control of their bodies, a light sheen of sweat beaded across Steve’s brow, wisps of his hair sticking to his skin. Finally mustering enough strength to move, he raised his head to look at her, to find her smiling as she pushed her head up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Wow,” she breathed and Steve let out a soft huff of laughter as he sat up to allow her the space to do the same, “you got game Soldier, I’ll give you that.”

Steve snorted and shook his head as he passed retrieved her t-shirt from the floor and passed it to her. “I’ve never done anything like that before.” He shrugged “I erm…”

“Let you into a secret.” She said gently, pulling her top over her head, flicking her hair back as she looked at him, her cheeks flushed with exertion. “Neither have I. Well, not to that extent anyway.”

“What?” Steve frowned “You’ve never…”

“You expecting me to be some kind of wild harlot or sumthin’ Stevie?” She teased as she stood up, Steve scrambling to his feet mimicking her.

“No I just, pretty girl like you, I thought…”

“What was it you said about waiting for the right partner?” She asked before she gently kissed him again. When she pulled away, her nose bumped his slightly and she pressed her forehead to his. “I best go. I don’t wanna but…” she glanced at the window and looked back at him. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the lab.”

“Sure.” Steve followed her a little before she stopped in the doorway and turned to smile at him once more.

“Whatever happens I want you to know that you’re already one of the bravest men I’ve ever met.” She took a deep breath. “You suddenly becoming all big and strong and…well, whatever, won’t change the fact that you already had the heart of a hero, certainly in my eyes anyway.”

And Steve could do nothing but smile as she left the room, closing the door behind her.

**** Chapter 3

#Stark spangled rebirth #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #katie stark #captain america #captain america fanfiction #mcu #mcu fanfic #chris evans #chris evans characters