#*i'm* out of their sights...and therefore out of THEIR minds....

[wolfofwinchester]

Got my hands on a book of herbal medicine and you better believe Claudia is having me take note. Will these ever come into play for threads? Maybe, maybe not. Are they fun to have stowed away all the same? Absolutely.

[bluebeary-jay]

Crawlin' back to you

Joel Miller x f!sunshine!Reader

Summary: you ask Joel for help while preparing for your upcoming date with another man. (or so it seems)

Tags: grumpy x sunshine, idiots in love, sweet sweet fluff, age gap, a drop of angst, peepaw is insecure abt his age :(, Jackson era, Joel is kind of slow but it's okay we still love him (pookie doesn't realize how hot he is), me dancing around the smut like i'm a fucking circus acrobat

Word count: 4K

A/N: sooo very long time no see 🙈 ever since the start of 2025 i'm telling myself to get back into writing but it still felt like a chore lol. but i REALLY wanted to finish this fic before tlou s2 drops so here it is!!! i'm really proud of how it turned out and i hope to write more in the near future. love you all so so much and as always, happy reading!! 💕

dividers by @saradika 🩷

Joel Miller didn't have friends.

He had a couple of buddies before the outbreak with whom he used to watch the game sometimes, but nothing more than that. Tommy didn't count, of course, because he was his brother and therefore had to be nice to him. The only other person who could put up with him was Ellie, but the kid was… a kid. As for the other people in Jackson, they were wise to keep their distance from Joel, not wanting to hang around a shadow of a man such as him.

He didn't mind. He liked the peace and quiet, and it didn't bother him one bit that everyone seemed to give him a wide berth, whispering about the danger that he was.

Well, almost everyone avoided him. You, the exact person that should stay far away from a man like Joel Miller, gravitated to him with an almost effortless ease. Even amongst all the hopeful people that created Jackson, you were the purest, brightest ray of sunshine, always helpful and compassionate towards anyone who came your way. And even though Joel wasn't exactly welcoming to you in the beginning, you never gave up and persisted – and eventually, befriended him.

And ever since the first time you spoke to him, he didn't stand a chance. You were young and pretty, and so charming with your innocent optimism… Before Joel realized, he was fantasizing about you during the lonely evenings, dreaming of your voice late in the night, and looking for you in the crowd when he was out of the house.

He was way too old to feel this kind of way, and every now and then it felt like he was balancing on a tightrope between being stupid and borderline creepy. Such a sweet girl like you wouldn't look twice at an old man like him if she knew the things that sometimes ran through his mind when he was seeing other men flirting with you, seeking the same warm light that Joel grew addicted to.

That was the poison mixed with your sweetness – even though it was irrational, with you everything seemed easier than it was.

…even falling in love.

And fall Joel Miller did. It was an embarrassing, tainted experience, especially when he remembered how much older than you he was. But he couldn't help it, and once this burning want became clear to him, he didn't really want to fight it, either.

You were everything he should stay far away from – young, pretty and so bright with your smiles, your hope, your innocence. A sinner like Joel Miller had no place in your life, and yet he couldn't muster the courage to let you go. It was selfish of him, he knew, but spending time in your company was one of the few brightsides of his life… and he didn't have many of those, lately. He genuinely enjoyed being near you – a lot more than he probably should.

That's why, when he noticed you skipping his way with a bright smile splattered across your cheeks, he felt his heart instantly lighten. It was a hard day of work at the construction site and he was relieved to finally be heading home, but just the sight of you made the weariness disappear from within his bones.

“Joel! Hi!” Something must have stirred you quite strongly, for you were practically bouncing with excitement. The words were spilling out of your mouth before he even had a chance to say hello. “I need your help, right now. Please.”

“Slow down, darlin’,” he chuckled, letting you drag him by the arm to a wall of the nearest building and away from the crowd. “You alrigh’?”

“Yeah, yes, of course.” You waved to someone passing by, totally unfazed – or maybe just ignorant – that you were being seen with him in public. “I just need your help.”

“Well, what is it?” he repeated the question and finally, you turned to face him. Joel couldn't help but match the pretty smile on your face, but it quickly faded when you blurted out your next words.

“I like someone.”

That short, simple sentence wrecked Joel’s world by the foundations. For a couple of seconds he just stared at you with his mouth slightly agape while you fidgeted with your hands nervously, but still overjoyed.

“Wh– uhh, sorry?”

“I like someone,” you repeated excitedly, as if your words weren't piercing right through Joel's heart. “And I need your help.”

All of the sudden, the world lost all its colors, as if all the meaning was sucked out of the universe just by your words.

Why it was such a surprise to him, Joel didn't know. Of course you'd sooner or later get together with someone. He should have expected it. You were young, pretty and such a joy to be around, people were gravitating towards you instinctively. Like moths to a flame.

Just like him – yet he was always destined to only get burned.

“Joel?”

You leaned closer and Joel's eyes instinctively focused on your lower lip worried between your teeth.  You were obviously oblivious to his feelings, as well as the effect you had on him – otherwise he doubted you'd tempt him like that, unknowingly making his mind fixate on how perfect your lips would have felt under his touch.

But no, it wasn't his caresses you wanted. There was someone else, someone far more deserving of you, and you were asking Joel only for his help. And though it hurt him – it killed him to lose this small sliver of affection you had been giving him so far – he nodded supportingly.

“Wha… what do you need help with, sweet girl?” he asked softly, trying not to show how devastated he felt inside. Joel had no desire to hear about whoever was fortunate enough to gain your favor, but again, luck wasn't on his side.

“I made a plan to meet him,” you explained enthusiastically, grabbing his forearm. Joel looked at where your fingers touched his skin, barely listening to your words. “Tonight. And I need you to come with me.”

That woke him up from his reverie. Joel huffed and shook his head sharply, looking at you like you were out of your mind.

“No.” His tone was almost biting, but through his firm refusal, a trace of panic was slipping through. You pouted, squeezing his forearm lightly.

“Oh, come on, please? I just want to make sure everything’s perfect.”

“No,” Joel repeated, much weaker this time. “Hell no. Why would I–” Then, a dark thought bloomed in his mind and his face turned concerned. “You're worried he'd do somethin’ to you?”

“Oh, no, no!” It was your turn to shake your head, and you actually cracked a smile at Joel's worried tone. “No, he'd never hurt me.”

Your voice got softer; your smile turned serene. Joel wanted nothing more than to turn away when your eyes started to wander across his features, but again that proved to be too herculean of a task compared to the hold you had over him.

“He's kind,” you continued absentmindedly, and on the edge of consciousness Joel remembered your hand was still on his arm, tracing small lines with your thumb. “Respectful and thoughtful… A real gentleman.”

“A-and who’s he?” Joel found the courage to ask, breaking you out of your daydreams. You smiled happily again – that damned, sweet smile of yours – and removed your hand. He immediately started missing the feeling of your touch.

“You'll see.” You looked over your shoulder when someone shouted your name a street away, and waved from the distance. You gave Joel one last pleading look, clasping your hands together. “Come to the Tipsy Bison at 9. Please? You can just sit in the corner but I'll feel so much better and safer with you there.”

Once Joel looked into your beautiful, pleading eyes, he was a goner. He never could deny you anything either way.

Even when he would kill for a chance to go on a real date with you.

“Okay,” he finally caved in. “Alrigh’. I'll be there.”

The overjoyed smile you gave him was almost enough to soothe the hollow pain in his chest.

Almost.

Great. Fucking great.

Joel made another turn around the street, trying to build up the courage to approach Tipsy Bison. The flannel shirt he wore was itching uncomfortably, but he was already half an hour late and there was no time to go back home and change.

He regretted ever setting foot in Jackson. It was a nightmare situation for him, having to spend the evening in a room full of loud, drunk people and watch as you go about your date with another man. Joel thought a dozen times about making up some excuse as to why he can't chaperone your date after all. He even went as far as to beg Tommy to accompany him, just that he wouldn’t have to suffer alone, but his younger brother just gave him a pitying look, saying something about spending time with Maria tonight. Joel could always cancel, lie that he can’t make it after all… but then he remembered how hopeful and thankful you looked, and all his resolve was wavering again. He couldn't ever say no to you, even though he desperately wanted to.

He looked at his broken watch, sighing at the hour. He delayed the inevitable long enough, so with heavy steps he approached the bar at last. You asked him to go through the back door, for whatever reason, and he was too tired at the time to point out there’s nothing back there except for the kitchen and storage rooms. Whatever. You probably were already in the main hall, with your date, and either you were angry at Joel for being late, or not thinking about him at all. He wasn’t sure which one would be worse.

Once he stepped over the threshold, he carefully closed the door behind him. The racket from the bar was muffled here, but from the nearest room he could hear someone muttering. Joel swallowed heavily and cleared his throat to alert whoever was on the other side of the wall.

“Joel?” he heard your voice before you appeared in the doorway. At the sight of him your shoulders dropped and with confusion he noted that you didn’t look angry or disappointed – you seemed relieved. “Goddammit, finally you’re here. You took your sweet time, huh?”

Before he could answer, you walked forward and took his sleeve, half-dragging him behind you. Words of protest bubbled on his tongue, but they all died quickly when Joel saw the room you emerged from.

The storage shelves were decorated with fairy lights and in the middle of the room stood a small table with two chairs opposite each other. The only other source of light were a couple of candles on the table and around the room. There was food on the table – probably cold by now – and a bottle of wine. But most importantly – there was no one else in the room except for Joel and you.

While he was looking around like an absolute fool, searching for an explanation for this situation, you cautiously closed the door and walked around the man, coming to a stop by the set table with your hands clasped in front of you.

“...Well?” you asked after an uncomfortably long silence, letting out a nervous laugh. “What do you think?”

Joel blinked, not sure if you were talking to him.

“Where's the guy?”

You threw him a confused look, but truly, it was the only thing Joel could think of. He glanced around the room again, as if his mysterious competition was going to jump up from behind one of the shelves, but there was no trace of anyone else here.

“Your… your date,” he clarified after a moment and cleared his throat once more. A spark of understanding flashed in your eyes and you pressed your lips together. “It's late. Is he… He didn't set you up, did he?”

“That depends,” you finally answered softly, keeping your wary but hopeful eyes on him. “Are you finally gonna sit down?”

A cog clicked into its place in Joel's mind and he turned his head, not sure if he had heard you right. You smiled nervously and motioned to the table.

“The food’s probably cold by now, but I can heat it up. It’s your own fault, though, since I asked you to be here forty minutes ago–”

“I don’t…”

He didn’t understand. Nothing made sense, but he had to make sure, “So there’s no… there’s no date?”

You were clearly nervous, judging by the way you were fidgeting with your hands, but you sent him a shy smile nonetheless. “I mean, you’re here…”

Joel didn’t answer – frankly, he didn’t know what to say. So many conflicted emotions were swirling in his chest, blocking his throat from squeezing out even a sound. It created almost a physical pain between his ribs, especially when your eyes were still on him, so hopeful and patient.

After another pregnant pause, you let out a quiet breath and took a step forward, throwing him a lifeline since he clearly must’ve looked like an idiot. “There’s no one else coming, if that’s what you’re asking. I made all of this for you – for… us, maybe. I just…” You half-shrugged, and only now Joel realized how nice you looked, wearing a dress he never before saw you in, “didn’t know how to tell you.”

Joel swept his gaze over the room once more – the dinner, the lights, your pretty dress… and you. And it was all for him, apparently.

“Why?” he breathed, the weight of his age almost making him collapse to his knees. He desperately wanted to say something more profound than one word at the time, but his voice was failing him. Thankfully, you were always kind enough to fill in the silence.

“Why did I lie to you or why did I drag you here of all places?” You rounded the table, eyeing the decorations with a proud smile. “Well–”

“No, darlin’, why…” He shook his head. Everything felt too unreal, too sudden. And he felt so tired. “Why me?”

That made you pause and you turned to him with a surprised look, like what he just said was the last thing you expected to hear.

“What do you mean, why you?” you huffed incredulously, leaning forward against the back of the chair, and though you tried to look casual, the nervousness in the tension of your body was apparent. “You’re just… I mean, it must be pretty clear that I really like you… And I thought you might have felt the same. You know, with all the ‘darling’s’ and looking at me, and stuff…”

Was it a dream? You always looked like you were out of a dream, but something about this moment… the fairy lights, your shy demeanor, the words he never thought he’d hear from you… Joel didn't know if he was still alive or maybe that's what the afterlife looked like.

“...You could say something,” you half-joked with a trace of worry in your voice, obviously growing uncomfortable at his lack of reaction. “You know, Tommy only let me have this place ‘til midnight before they come by to restock the bar. We can at least eat and talk a little, right?”

“Did Tommy put you up to this?” Joel asked bitterly, unable to stop himself at the mention of his brother’s name. He recalled the look Tommy gave him earlier today, his excuses as to why he can’t come with him... What other explanation could there be for such a gorgeous, young woman to be interested in Joel of all people, if it wasn’t just a product of his kin’s poor humor? However, he instantly regretted asking you this when your soft smile disappeared altogether, and you wrapped your arms around yourself.

“You can just say if you don’t feel the same way,” you said dryly with an angry and hurt furrow on your brow. “No need to be a dick about it.”

You walked by him, apparently done with Joel’s accusations and grumpiness, but he quickly caught your arm before he could think better of it. You spun around, probably ready to tear into him, but he wouldn't hear a word either way – no while a vortex of doubts and questions raged in his mind. Joel didn’t know how or why you’d ever take interest in an old man like him, but he was now certain of two things.

One, you were telling the truth. For whatever reason, you really liked him – enough to plan and prepare a whole dinner date just for him.

And two, if Joel let you walk out now, he’d regret it for the rest of his life.

You must’ve noticed the change on his face when his eyes flickered to your lips because you froze, the words of hurt and disappointment drying out on your tongue. Joel swallowed and wet his lips, looking for any sign of hesitation or regret on your face, but there was nothing in your eyes but pure, fragile anticipation. He delicately put his hand on the side of your face, the rough pad of his thumb brushing your cheek slowly. Your eyelashes fluttered closed and you let out a shaky breath, and that was all it took for Joel to lean down and press his lips to yours.

The kiss started delicate, but almost immediately turned into a fervent, hungry thing, which you ardently reciprocated. Joel wanted to take his time, to test the waters and build up the anticipation until you were ready to beg for him, but he didn’t expect just how fucking good kissing you would feel – and how eager you were for his touch. The smell of you, the feel of your hands on his chest and arms… it was driving him crazy with want, and without thinking twice, he spun you around and pinned your back against the edge of the table, making you whimper into his mouth.

“Goddammit, baby…” The term of endearment slipped out before he realized it, but judging by your reaction you didn’t mind at all. Your breath hitched, making him smirk to himself as he started to realize just how much power he held over you. It certainly shouldn’t excite him as much as it did. “Are you absolutely sure that’s what you want?”

“Joel, if you don’t stop questioning me…” you started, and although your words were firm, your voice leaned into a deliciously needy pitch, the kind of which he yearned to hear for far too long. Joel groaned into your mouth, moving down to press hot kisses against the line of your jaw and down your neck, greedily drinking in the noises you were making.

“Tell me, darlin’,” he asked in a low voice, experimentally running his palm up your thigh under the pretty dress you wore. The effect was immediate, and you pressed your body closer to him, seeking his touch the moment it left your skin. “I need to know if you really mean all this.”

“For fuck’s sake, Joel–” You made a surprised noise as he hoisted you up and onto the table, but it turned into another needy whimper when he knocked your knees apart and slotted himself between them with ease. You glanced behind you, worried that you'll push the silverware off the table, and Joel took this moment to resume the onslaught on your neck, kissing and sucking every inch of skin he could reach. You choke back a moan as his touch made a shiver run up your spine. “Joel, please…”

“I need to hear it, sweetheart,” he murmured lowly against your skin, slowing down to tease you when he felt your heartbeat quicken up beneath his lips. “Need to make sure you know what you're gettin’ into.”

“I do, I promise,” you assured him fervently while your hands went to the back of his head, fingers tangling into his gray locks. “You have no idea how many times I thought about this. I wanted you for so long, Joel, please…”

“Wanted you, too, darlin’.” He put one of his hands on the small of your back, pulling your lower half closer to the edge of the table so you could feel what you were doing to him. “God, every time you smiled at me it was all I could think about… So kind and beautiful, never thought you'd look twice my way.”

You didn't bother to answer this time, instead angling his head up to kiss him deeply again. The doubt and fear were still present in Joel's mind, but he honestly couldn't focus on them with you in front of him. You were so warm under his palms, so pliant and eager, a literal putty in his steady hands. He could never imagine how incredible it felt to be wanted by someone so much, but at the same time he knew he had to take his time. As much as he wanted to keep going, to make you see stars and sing his name, it was more than just lust with you.

So when you reached for the buttons of his shirt, he gently grabbed your wrists and moved them away, finally regaining his self-control. You whined disapprovingly, but the crease between your brows quickly disappeared when Joel kissed your fingers softly, not taking his eyes off you.

“Shh, sweetheart, don’t rush,” he cood, earning a small disappointed pout. He had to close his eyes, lest he caved in. Fuck, the sight of you before him – your pupils blown wide, lips swollen from his ministrations, your heavy breath and the dress bunched around your hips… Joel was sure you’d let him do anything to you right now. And God, he couldn’t wait. “Let me do this properly, yeah? Have a nice date with you, then maybe take you home if you don’t change your mind…”

“We can skip the dinner,” you quietly offered, your breath still uneven and cheeks flushed. He huffed a laugh with fondness and leaned in to plant a soft kiss on your forehead, his own breathing also slightly erratic.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmured against your skin before taking your face in his hands. “Someone did say I’m a gentleman, no?”

You seemed to regret your previous choice of words, accentuating it with a disappointed whimper and a buck of your hips. Joel groaned and kissed you deeply again, almost able to taste all the impatience and desire on your tongue. Surprisingly, you didn’t fight him further and instead obediently slid off the table, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck to be as close to him as possible.

Joel was grateful for this moment of calm before even more excitement – and he didn’t mind spending it by watching you, standing so close and smiling up at him as brightly as the sun itself.

“You believe me now?” you asked teasingly, stifling your giggles when Joel rolled his eyes playfully. “Good. You will have to make it up to me, then.”

Worry crept back onto Joel’s face, but you were quick to calm him down with a tender kiss to his jaw, and then another one lower, on his pulse point. “You were late. If you got here on time, we could’ve been doing this at least half an hour longer.”

Joel chuckled and lifted your chin with his finger, before kissing you briefly one last time.

“Baby, let’s enjoy the dinner you prepared, first. After that, I swear I’ll make it up to you in however many ways you want.”

Judging by your smile, you didn’t seem to mind at all.

[sceletaflores]

I COULD PLAY THE DOCTOR (I CAN CURE YOUR DISEASE)

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4.1k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, established relationship, logan's pov, written with origins!logan in mind, nat veering dangerously closer to a/b/o territory with every passing day, rut cycles, oral sex (fem!receiving), fingering (fem!receiving), multiple orgasms, gratuitous amounts of dirty talk, p in v, rough sex, biting, hair pulling, size kink, belly bulging, pussy pronouns, one (1) single use of the word daddy, scent kink, pain kink, breeding kink ofc, knotting (don’t look at me…), squirting, porn w/ plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: don’t look at me…i don’t know how many times i swore up and down i’d never write something like this but i’m a confirmed liar apparently so…here. i mean i just figured i'm in a rut artistically so therefore the only answer is writing logan in a rut physically...i can do what i want and i don't need to explain myself or my horny thoughts. also, i debated posting this in the wake of everything that's gone down over the past two days that is still escalating and will continue to escalate in the coming weeks, but i think everyone could use a little escape from how scary things may seem right now. take a break from all the terrifying news sites and read about logan wanting to breed you :) kisses!

divider by angel @saradika-graphics!

it's been another six months, and logan needs your help...

The burn starts on the walk home from work, a pulse of heat deep in Logan's gut that grows with every step.

It spreads slowly, sinking into his muscles and seeping up his spine as he rounds the last corner, your place less than a block away now.

It caught him off guard this time, an itch burying itself under his skin earlier in the day only to get worse and worse as he worked.

He usually knew the signs well enough to feel them start creeping in, and he was dead sure it wasn't for another few weeks.

Apparently, he was wrong.

Logan’s jaw clenches as he picks up his pace, every nerve ending in his body straining to break into a full blown sprint at the thought of you, all alone and waiting for him.

His fingers curl into tight fists, nails pressing into his palms to ground himself, though it’s hardly enough. The faint scent of you drifts up from his shirt, not even a long day at the lumberyard enough to drown it out.

By the time he reaches your door, his heartbeat is a heavy thud in his ears, syncing with the building ache of desire wracking through his body like the earth rattling boom of a raging thunder storm.

He fumbles through getting his key into the lock, hands unsteady as he tugs the door open with a little more force than necessary and finally steps inside.

The second he closes the door behind him, the heat surges, thrumming through his veins and flooding his chest. Your scent fills the air completely, stronger now, wrapping around him so thick and sweet.

"Darlin'?" His voice comes out rougher than he intends, but he's beyond caring.

Your voice floats from the other room, casual, warm enough to send a jolt through him. Logan drops his axe from his shoulder, leaning it against the door as he starts down the familiar path to your bedroom.

You're spread out on his side of the bed—oblivious, curled up with a book, wrapped in one of the flannels he must have left the last time he stayed over.

Just the sight of you does something to him, like a match dragged against a strike pad, damned on setting everything ablaze.

You glance up, and the soft smile on your lips falters as you catch sight of him.

Logan knows what he must look like, his eyes all dark and predatory, chest heaving as he rakes his hungry gaze over you like a wolf watches a lamb grazing too close to its den.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just stalks toward you with a purpose that’s as undeniable as the heat pouring off him in waves.

The book slips from your fingers, forgotten, as you lean back, the small sound of your breath hitching under the weight of his gaze is music to his ears.

Logan pauses at the edge of the bed, towering over you, letting himself drink in the way you look. So soft and serene, like some kind of invitation that begs him closer. His flannel draped loosely over your shoulders–shrouding you in his scent. 

The urge to pounce on you fights against his normal instinct to savor every second, to draw it out until the heat pooling in his gut becomes downright unbearable.

“Been thinkin’ about you all damn day,” he mutters, voice thick and dark as molasses, rough from restraint he’s quickly losing. His knuckles brush against your thigh, then tighten, holding you in place as he leans down, his breath hot against your neck. “Thinkin’ about what I was gonna when I finally got my hands on you.”

Your skin blooms with warmth beneath his touch, and he grins against your neck, the edge of his teeth grazing you just enough to make you squirm. He growls low in his throat, that itch he’s been fighting nearly all day clawing its way up to the surface with a vengeance.

The primal urge inside of him screaming to claim claim claim take take take mate mate mate breed breed breed.

You tilt your head to the side with a soft sigh, freeing up more space for him to nose along your skin. “Is it time?”

Logan's breath catches as your question hangs in the air, thick with anticipation. The soft simplicity of it ignites the wildfire burning in his gut, every ounce of restraint slipping away like sand through his fingers.

“Yeah, baby,” he growls, slipping his fingers under the worn cotton of your shorts, feeling the bare skin beneath. “It’s time.”

You shift, hands going to the buttons of his flannel like you’re going to take it off. Logan stops you, taking your wrists in his free hand.

“Don’t,” he breathes, shaking his head hard enough that his hair flows with it. “Leave it on.”

The thought of you covered in his scent, of his scent mixing with yours to claim you on a level only he can discern sends his mind buzzing.

You look up at him with those wide, trusting eyes, and something in him cracks wide open. The tenderness of your gaze pulls at him, like a tether pulling him back from the edge, but that heat still smolders in his blood, fierce and unyielding.

Logan runs his thumb along the racing pulse of your wrist before he drops them. His hands venture lower, fingers pressing against the inside of your thigh, tracing a deliberate path that makes your body tremble under his touch.

You let out a shuddering breath, the scent of your arousal swirling through the air is enough to make him crave more.

In one rough tug, Logan yanks you towards the edge of the bed as he falls to his knees. Your hips held tight in his hands as he lurches forward, burying his nose in the soft junction where your leg and inner thigh meet.

He inhales deep, greedy lungfuls of your scent. A guttural growl rumbles through his chest, his eyes screwing shut at the sheer amount of too much that courses through him. He feels dizzy with it, high on the pheromones pumping from you in waves.

You’re soaked already, the wet fabric of your shorts melded to the shape of your cunt. He can’t help but run his nose along the slick seam of you, reveling in the way your legs twitch on either side of his head, in the short gasp you let out.

“Logan.” Your voice is nothing but a mewl, pleading and desperate.

“Missed you,” he rasps, his voice rough, almost unrecognizable. The edge of need in him makes his hands shake, sliding up your thighs, urging them even further apart as he settles between them.

Logan’s fingers dig into your skin, he lets his thumbs brush up, hooking them into the waistband of your shorts to tug them down your legs in one sharp yank. He groans at the sight of you completely bare, no underwear.

“Fuck, look at you,” he grates, his thumb coming down to slip through your dripping cunt. Your hole flutters desperately around him, needy little clenches like it’s trying to suck him in. “She’s all ready for me, huh? Been waiting for me to come home and give her some attention?”

“Please,” you whimper, your voice thick with longing, the sound going straight to his head, clouding his thoughts. 

Logan’s pulse races as he watches your body arch instinctively toward his touch, the desperate need in your eyes igniting the raw urges coursing through him.

He can’t deny you; he never could. You’re a feast laid out before him, and he’s starving.

Logan leans closer, letting his tongue flick out to taste you like he’s wanted to since he left for work this morning. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, closing his eyes and losing himself in the moment. He licks a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit, savoring the way your body responds, the way your legs tremble and your hips twitch against his mouth, seeking more. “Tastes like fuckin’ heaven, sweetheart.”

The taste of you is intoxicating—sweet and tangy, flooding his senses with every drag and swirl of his tongue.

Logan can’t help but moan against you, the sound vibrating through your body as he dives deeper, his nose nudging against your slick entrance as he shakes his head back and forth like an animal—rubbing the plush skin of your inner thighs red and raw with each rough drag of his coarse beard.

Every flick of his tongue sends a shockwave through you, and he revels in the sounds you make—each whimper, each moan, a siren’s call urging him deeper. He laves his tongue around your clit, sucking it gently, pulling at it with his lips as you writhe beneath him, begging for more. 

He keeps your thighs spread wide, two strong hands pinning them to the mattress so he can devour you just the way you deserve, the sharp dig of your heels into his shoulders only spurs him on.

Your hands bury themselves in his hair, tugging him closer, and he groans into you, letting his tongue delve deeper, seeking out every bit of sweetness he can coax from you. 

It’s pure sin, each sound you make, each shiver that runs through you as he takes his time, drinking you down like a man starved. 

The ache in him intensifies, his own need growing, pulsing. He’s hard, has been hard since he walked through the front door.

His cock strains against the zipper of his jeans, need pulsing in time with each pump of his blood through his shaft, circling around the base, threatening to expand even without the tight grip of your pussy surrounding him. His hips jerk up on their own volition, desperate for any friction.

“Just like that, Logan,” you gasp, voice breathy and trembling with pleasure. 

The way you say his name—raw, desperate—makes his blood run hotter. He grips your thighs tighter, anchoring you to the bed as he drinks you in, wanting to lose himself in you completely.

Logan pulls away just long enough to catch his breath, looking up at you with lust-drunk eyes, drinking in the sight of your sweaty cheeks, your heavy-lidded gaze, the way your chest rises and falls with each shuddering breath.

The pulse of his cock intensifies, urging him to speed things along. The base desire of his own instincts is getting harder and harder to ignore under your adoring stare.

He feeds his fingers into your clenching hole with no warning, a satisfied smirk tugging his lips up at your sharp gasp. He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, the entire lower half of his face still shining with your essence.

Your cunt swallows him, two thick fingers sinking into the velvety heat like it’s nothing.

Logan groans as he feels you clench around him, your walls fluttering and drawing him in deeper. “That’s it, baby,” he mutters, his voice hoarse with need. “So fuckin’ ready for me, so ready for daddy’s fingers in your pussy.”

Your mouth drops open in another devastatingly desperate noise, your hands twist his hair roughly, soft breasts rising and falling each time you gasp for air. The dim light of the sunset filters in through the blinds, highlighting the curves of your body, slick and shining with a thin sheen of sweat.

Every clench of your walls around his fingers shoots a thrill straight to his cock, making him ache with the urge to bury himself inside you. The overwhelming need to take you completely, to mark you and fill you, pulses through his veins until he feels like he might explode.

But he’s not done tasting you yet. Not until you’re practically dripping onto the sheets.

He lowers his mouth back to your core, sucking your clit into his mouth as his fingers pump faster. The sudden intensity makes your thighs shake around his head, and he grins against you. He wants to see you fall apart—wants to feel it.

“Logan—please, I…” You can barely get the words out, voice breaking as your whole body strains against him, desperate and needy.

The wet slap of his palm against your spit soaked cunt is loud in the quiet of your bedroom, blending with the loud keens that fall from your parted lips. He crooks his fingers, rubbing at that soft, spongy spot inside of you.

“Come on,” he mutters, slick lips brushing against your clit as he speaks. “Give it to me, baby. Show me you're ready for my cock."

He drags the sharp edge of his canine against your pulsing clit with barely any pressure, and you're coming.

Your whole body tenses, back bowing off the mattress as you let out a broken cry of his name. The bite of your nails digging into his scalp feels harsh enough to draw blood, a feeble attempt at grounding yourself against the onslaught of pleasure. 

Your trembling thighs tighten around his shoulders, gripping him like a vice as your shaking cunt gushes around his fingers. Logan groans at the feeling, eyes slipping shut as you drench his wrist and chin in your juices.

Even then, he doesn’t let up, fingers pumping relentlessly as he draws out every pulse, every aftershock of your climax, every tiny spray of your release splashing against his wrist. 

He’s lost in the feel of you—slick and trembling under his hands, the scent of your release filling his lungs, thick and intoxicating.

You slump back against the bed, body limp and spent. His own need is a driving, aching force now, clawing at his insides, demanding more.

He slips his fingers free from your dripping heat, dragging them through the wetness coating his chin as he licks them clean with a growl, savoring every taste.

“Good girl,” he purrs, voice thick with pride and satisfaction as he pulls back, leaving your thighs twitching in the wake of his touch. But he still isn’t finished. Not even close.

You barely have time to catch your breath before Logan crawls up the bed, his eyes locked on you, pupils blown with need. He looms over you, hands planting on either side of your head. His cock grinds against you through the rough denim, and you can feel just how thick and hard he is, throbbing through the fabric, demanding to be freed.

With a low groan, he shifts his hips, dragging his bulge along your soaked cunt, sending another jolt of pleasure racing through you. His hands are all over you, gripping your waist, hot and possessive.

“Feel that?” he asks, pressing his lips the wild flutter of your pulse, the need to sink his teeth in the soft skin of your neck raises the hair on the back of his neck. “That’s what you do to me baby. Got me hard as a fuckin’ rock, just aching to be inside you.”

Your arms circle his shoulders, clawing at the fabric off his shirt. “Need you inside me, Logan. Please, want it so bad.”

The pure need lacing your words, your scent calling out to him, the way he can feel the front of his jeans getting soaked through with the slick pouring from your cunt all pull him deeper into the recesses of his hind-brain. 

The mounting desperation to stuff you full of his cock finally reaches a fever pitch.

With a deep growl, Logan rears back as far as he can bear, just enough to tear his shirt over his head before he fumbles with the heavy buckle of his belt to free his aching cock.

He shoves his jeans down, boxers quickly following until there’s nothing separating him from the cool air of your bedroom. His cock springs free, hot and flushed an angry red color, drooling from the tip enough that it drips down to stain the pretty floral sheets of your bed.

Your eyes zero in on him, mouth dropping open at the sight. His cock so heavy it doesn’t curve upward to slap against his stomach, instead it hangs down to sway between his thighs as he moves closer. 

Your legs spread as he nears, slick covered thighs parting to make room for him to slot between them. So obedient, so good, so well trained.

Logan takes himself in his hand, nearly wincing at the blazing temperature of his skin. He secures his hand around the base, squeezing where his knot threatens to pop before he’s even got in you.

He slips the angry head through the folds of your cunt, slapping it against your clit with a wet ‘thwack’ sound. He can feel the way it twitches and shakes, just as desperate as him.

“Look at that,” he mutters darkly, eyes glued to where he’s laid his cock flat against your stomach, leaking pre-come all over your soft skin. “How’s it gonna fit, baby?” He shifts his hips, sawing his length back and forth to see just how deep in you he’ll be.

Your glassy eyes drop, a broken moan passing through your slack lips when you take in the sight. Your hips rise off the bed, grinding your cunt along the seam of his heavy balls, along the prominent vein trailing up the underside.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Logan grits out, eyes hooded and dark as he watches you grind against him. “You’re gonna take it all. Gonna make you feel every last fuckin’ bit of me.”

He groans, gritting his teeth as he presses in further, each inch a battle against the tight, molten heat that grips him like a vice. Your body shudders as he fills you, your slick warmth pulling him deeper and deeper, and he sinks down until he’s fully seated, his hips flush with yours. 

The pressure is mind-numbing, your walls clenching around him in rhythmic pulses that make his vision blur. He stills for just a second, savoring the way your body stretches around him, hugging him in a way that feels like it was made for him alone.

Logan watches your face as you adjust to the stretch, your brows pinched together, each breath coming fast and shallow, your eyes glazed with pleasure.

Then, your hands come to his shoulders, nails digging little crescent moons into his skin as you nod your head, ready.

It’s all the confirmation he needs. His hips pull back before he slams in again, the force of it jolting your whole body. He presses his forehead to your shoulder, teeth bared as he muffles a snarl against your skin.

Logan thrusts again, and again, and again, hips setting a merciless pace as he watches the way your breasts bounce with each thrust, each little shudder.

His mouth waters with the need to taste, to sink his teeth into your supple skin hard enough to pierce clean through, hard enough to scar.

Sweat drips down the length of his spine, across his brow. It mats down the hair scattered over his chest, his dog tags slick with it when they bounce off his skin with each thrust. The grip of his hands tightens on your hips, it’s taking everything in him to hold back and yet he knows you’ll still bruise tomorrow. 

Pretty hues of dark purples and yellows in the shape of his fingers, ones he’ll catch you admiring in the bathroom mirror, pressing your own fingertips into them to feel the dull ache—to remember this moment.

“Made for this, aren’t you?” he rasps, his voice dark and possessive. “Made to take me, to be mine.”

The words barely leave his mouth before he’s bending down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your cries as he drives into you, pushing you both closer to that sweet edge.

“Fuck, Logan,” you gasp, breaking the kiss as your body trembles under him. “Can–ah!–can feel you in my stomach…”

Your hand drops from his shoulder, slipping between your bodies to rest over the sweaty expanse of your belly. Logan’s eyes follow your path, a feral growl bursting from his chest before he can stop it.

He’s transfixed by it, sure that if he pressed his hand to the soft skin of your lower stomach right over your own, that he’d feel it. Feel the way his cock punches up against your insides, so deep it's like he’s rearranging your guts to make room.

“Fuck.” His voice is nothing but a gravelly rumble, hoarse and dark as midnight. His hips speed up impossibly faster, chasing the feeling of your clenching walls choking the length of his cock so tight he thinks it might snap off at the base.

The flimsy headboard of your bed slams against the wall, creaky mattress springs screaming under his ministrations.

You feel like salvation, like the first rays of light after too many years spent in the dark.

He feels it with each kiss of his cock against your cervix, in the way your lips fit in the junction of his neck, in the red welts your nails leave on the skin of his back. He feels alive, truly alive, for the first time in decades.

“Say my name,” he grates, his hand cupping the back of your neck, coaxing you to look up at him, lips close enough to taste the heat radiating from his skin. “Tell me who you belong to.”

"Logan," you gasp, your voice breathy, edged with desperation as he pushes you closer to the brink. "Yours. Only yours."

A broken, shaky noise falls from his lips as he buries his face in your neck. He mouths at your skin desperately, presses his nose to where your scent is the strongest. 

Flashes of his release spraying your insides play behind his closed eyes, thoughts of drenching you so thoroughly that it has to take only forcing his hips to slam against the rippling muscle of your ass like you have your own magnetic pull. He feels it building, the slow swell of his knot presses against your folds, ready to burst.

“Come on, honey,” he begs, thumb coming down to rub slow circles over your slick clit. “Come with me, soak my cock. Show me how much you love it, how much you love me.”

Pathetic little uh uh uh’s fall from you with every thrust, broken up only by the breathy whines of his name as he pounds into you hard enough to push your body higher up the mattress. Finally, with a loud roar, he stuffs his growing knot inside of your cunt. 

Logan’s teeth sink into your neck before he can even think twice about it, the thick spray of his come filling you as his hands pull your hips down even further over his cock. He needs to be as deep in you as possible, to press forward until he can’t anymore, until his aching balls are flush with your gushing cunt.

He watches with rapt attention as you come with a loud wail, just from the feeling of his knot slotting into place. The clamp of your thighs over his hips is nearly as tight as the way your cunt seizes around him like it’s scared he’ll leave.

He groans at the over stimulation of your cunt milking his cock. Your slick leaks around the base of him, your shaking hole plugged so full it can only slip along the creamy ring to splash weakly against his thighs and hips.

Logan licks along the spot where his teeth pierced your skin, planting one last kiss before he’s taking you in his arms and rolling onto his back atop the mattress. The plush comforter sticks to his skin, your own sweaty body slipping against his as he tries his best to not jostle you too much while keeping you stuffed full of his cock.

He holds you to his chest until your breathing evens out, until your body stops trembling on top of his, until you’re nosing along the column of his neck.

“Logan?” Your voice is tiny, hoarse and scratchy. He feels your hand drawing absent minded shapes along the skin of his stomach. A circle, a star, a figure eight, a heart.

“Yeah baby?” he says, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, eyes slipping shut at the content feeling that spreads through him.

“Love you,” you murmur, voice soft but sure, the words slipping out without hesitation.

It’s the first time you’ve said it today, and hearing those three words from you sends warmth flooding through him.

Logan shifts slightly, pulling you even closer, his hand moving to the back of your head, cradling you with a kind of tenderness he used to think he’d never be capable of. “I love you too, darlin’. More than you know.”

Your body relaxes against him, the lingering effects of your shared intimacy still buzzing through your limbs, but now there’s a sense of peace, of safety, and a deeper connection.

He can feel the way your fingers curl lightly against his skin, the quiet smile that must be tugging at your lips as you press a kiss to the side of his neck.

And in that moment, with everything settled around him, Logan knows that this, right here, is everything.

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

[hivemuthur]

Eee sorry about the vague request lol. I'm thinking maybe reader is unknowingly giving someone else a lil too much attention at a house party or something like that and Vik gets jealous and pouty about it and reader makes it up to him 👀👀

Clearly im not great at wording requests lol, I hope this makes sense

<3

Hi! I love you, so after I've written the first part of smut for this, I went to pray to the smut fairy and she gave me more smut :v @rennethen we thank you, we bow to you. And yes, there is no other point to this story than smut, because we had a lot of emotional stuff happening on this blog in the last couple of days :')

Eat Me

viktorxfemale!reader explicit! Viktor is jealous, therefore: smut, also dom!Viktor

word count:��3,3K

—

“Yes, I suppose you could say that,” you laughed sheepishly at—what was his name again? Mark? Maurice? Never mind, you politely laughed at his joke. Somewhere in the middle of this conversation, you had felt Viktor’s hand slip off the small of your back as he walked away to have a chat with Jayce. You could swear you heard a sigh accompanying the action, but the number of people talking at you simultaneously was too great to stir your mind to focus on one thing.

You looked around the room; the party had visibly dispersed into small groups— a few people splayed on the floor, talking in hushed voices; a smoking gang squished on the small balcony; a not-very-promising-looking queue to the bathroom; very loud voices coming from the kitchen, where some groundbreaking conversations were definitely taking place. Exactly opposite you and Mark—or Maurice—Viktor stood leaning on the doorframe, a glass hanging limply from his hand. He seemed very determined not to glance in your direction, no matter how many smiles you tried to send him.

You remained unalarmed until it was Mark’s—or Maurice’s—hand travelling to the small of your back, his mouth closing in on your ear to whisper, “So… can I get your number?”

At that point, Viktor scoffed and retreated into the corridor, out of your sight. You shifted uncomfortably, sliding yourself away from the intruder’s touch, and squeaked, “Eh, sorry, I don’t think… I don’t think my boyfriend would be happy about it, you know?”

Mark—or Maurice—raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, saying, “Forgive me, I didn’t know. Enjoy the party.” He patted you on the shoulder, his touch immediately shifting from seductive to friendly, his eyes moving from your cleavage to your face, and began snaking deeper into the room, leaving you alone and a little stunned by the windowsill. Huh, that obvious.

You downed your drink and left the glass behind, ready to find the lost boyfriend. You searched Jayce’s cramped apartment room by room, people trying to pull you in for a drink occasionally slowing your progress. Jayce, already moderately drunk and flushed from all the hands invading his personal space, pointed you toward his study. The door was ajar, and a faint glimmer of light was coming from inside.

“Hello?” You peeked your head through the door, only to see Viktor slumped behind Jayce’s desk, engrossed in a book. He didn’t look up at you and only threw you a dry, “Hello,” in return.

“Tired of the crowd, hmm?” you hummed after slipping inside and leaning over the desk opposite him. Your fingers tapped on the wood, awaiting a reply, only to be given the cold shoulder in the form of a quiet, dismissive hum. “Well, do you want to go home?” you tried again, inching your fingers to sneak under his sleeves, and Viktor shuddered.

“Home? No, I am quite content where I am. Also—” he paused as his eyes landed on your hands before retreating further into the chair to avoid your touch. “You seemed quite content with where you were as well,” he retorted, flipping to the next page.

“I’m not sure I quite follow?” You gave him a puzzled look, hoping he saw at least a glimpse of it from the corner of his eye. “Viktor?” you asked, splaying yourself all the way across the desk to pluck the book from his hands. “Why are you not looking at me?”

He sighed, his hands frozen in the air exactly where the book had been a second ago, and finally did look at you, at which point you started to wish he hadn’t.

“You were in quite stimulating company, no? Has Gregory abandoned you that you decided to pay me a visit?” Ah, yes, Gregory, not Mark or Maurice. He gave you a cold stare and an unforgiving smirk, and you choked on a snort.

“Excuse me? Viktor, are you being jealous?” You were now both leaning over the desk, playing a game of stares. Viktor blinked first but made it look like he had won.

“From where I was standing—and I will add that it was many different angles I got to observe—he was quite ready to eat you all right up,” he cocked his head to the side and left you to deal with the statement.

“Eat me? We were just talking,” you said, pointing your finger between the two of you to accentuate that, up until some point, Viktor had also been a part of the conversation. Realising the new round of the staring game had just begun, you relented, “Still—that’s completely irrelevant, as the only person I would wish to eat me is you.”

“That’s very unfortunate then, given that I seem to have lost my appetite.” Viktor took the opening and squeezed it dry. He picked up the book, opened it to a random page, and pretended to sink back into reading.

You straightened, taken aback by this... ridiculous display of mistrust. A smile played under your nose as you circled around the desk, turned the chair to make Viktor face you, and leaned in to touch his mouth with yours. “Are you sure I can’t even interest you in a snack?” you murmured against his lips, placing a lingering kiss there.

Viktor didn’t move, and soon you felt the handle of his cane poking at your stomach, beckoning you away. You shot him a questioning look and moved the cane aside with your hand, only for it to return to where it was, his eyes still fixed on the book. “I said, I am not hungry,” he said, his tone feigning exhaustion.

“Really? Are you telling me you would rather read—” you paused to take the book away and glance at the cover, “Jayce’s journal, rather than quit this pointless display of sulk and spend some time with me?” You held it expectantly in your hand, bemused.

“Yes. And give it back now.” He leaned forward, his hand reaching for the tome, only for you to swing it behind your back and move your body so your face met his.

“What will I get in return?” you asked sweetly, your breath ghosting his cheek. But Viktor wouldn’t give in. He shifted away, gluing his spine to the chair’s backrest.

“How about freedom to roam the party as you please, with whomever you please? Ah, right, apologies—it seems you already took that opportunity,” he mused, his tone almost annoyed as he kept his hand extended, expecting the stolen good to be returned.

“Viktor—” you scolded, growing more and more impatient. The book dropped to the desk with a thump, and before Viktor could reach for it, you straddled his lap, ignoring all the huffs of protest and palms trying to push you away. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your face to his, whispering into his ear, your voice needy and keen, “What I want is my man to stop sulking. I can apologize, if you let me.”

Viktor hesitated until his hands rested on your hips, the rest of him still frozen in place. “I’m listening,” he muttered, causing a satisfied smirk to bloom on your lips.

You took the cue and slid your palms flat onto his chest, tugging at his collar. “Well, how would you like your apology to be served, mister?” You licked at the seam of his mouth and sucked on the crown of his upper lip. Viktor allowed it but still wouldn’t engage much, keeping his façade of a man who was hurt. Your tongue travelled down to his jaw, then up to the pulse point below his ear. Finally, you were rewarded with a shudder and a sigh. “Hmm, that seems to be working, no?”

“I’d say your little stunt requires some more remorse to be shown for me to forgive you entirely, my girl,” he murmured, his hands squeezing your hips in tandem with a grunt coming out of his mouth.

“Remorse, huh? I might know one universal way to repent,” you said, sliding off him to the floor, your knees resting on the carpet between his feet, your fingers already tugging at the buckle of his belt. “I’ve heard begging on one’s knees can work wonders.”

He uttered a quiet fuck along with your name, eyes fixed on yours, as you beckoned him to lift his hips, allowing you to slide his pants down his legs. His thumb brushed on your lower lip as he gave you a thoughtful look. “Show me. How sorry you are.”

You smiled and propped your hands on his hips, as you leaned in to tease him. His cock was still soft, twitching slightly under your breath. You began to place lingering kisses across his length, all the way from his balls to the tip, not moving it from the crease of his hip where it rested. Then, you flipped it to the other side with your nose and proceeded to do the same, from the top to bottom, watching it harden after each peck.

Viktor’s breath hitched, his fingers curling into your hair, as he pressed his hips into your face and rasped, “I will have to see some more initiative if you want me to believe you.”

You immediately responded with opening your mouth and letting him drag his half-hard length on it, his cock now splayed between your mouth, side of your nose, the tip resting somewhere around your eyebrow, smearing your own spit all over your face. Viktor’s brows pinched together, his lips parted into a toothy smile as he sat back down. “Good,” was the only praise you got so far, and you felt yourself aching for an addition of girl next to it.

Your kisses deepened, more passionate and lingering on the base, your tongue reaching down to his perineum, releasing a startled chuckle somewhere from the depth of his chest. You cocked your head, taking the side of his cock between your lips and started dragging it leisurely up and down, pausing to tease a sensitive spot below the head with the tip of your tongue.

Viktor remained still, his hand resting tangled into your hair, the other gripping the arm rest tightly as his eyes followed your every movement. You glanced up to meet his gaze—blown pupils, cheeks already flushed, lips shining from constant licking. Pleased with the view, you took him in your hand and patted the head of his cock on your flattened tongue, baring your teeth in a smile when his eyes rolled back, and he gave you a quiet ah sound as a reward.

“I feel like you are enjoying it far too much for a proper atonement,” he smirked. Before you could respond, he gripped your hair tighter, motioning your head to rest on his lap, as he slid himself inside your mouth. You groaned against him, grabbing his forearm and he only tsk-ed at you. “Bad girl. Tongue out, breathe through your nose,” he commanded, and you immediately obliged.

He fucked your throat steadily, retreating right before you were about to gag, soft praises falling from his lips. He watched himself appearing and disappearing between your lips and the hand that was previously whitening at the armrest travelled to cup your face and caress your cheek. You closed your eyes at the touch and let the drool roll out of your mouth onto his thigh, your breath heavy through your nose as you tried to even out its rhythm with the one of his thrusts.

He retreated to rub himself all over your face, smearing your makeup in the process. “So pretty like this,” he cooed, stroking your hair. “Are you sorry?”

You nodded, looking at him from under glued eyelashes. And Viktor looked so in love you couldn’t help a smile forcing itself onto your lips.

“Let’s apologize some more, are you ready?” he asked hoarsely, already lining himself against your mouth. Wordlessly, you opened, splaying your tongue out, coating your teeth with your lips to avoid any accidental scratches. He pushed himself deeper, tickling your uvula, while plugging your nose with his fingers and holding you in position.

“Are you sorry?” He leaned in to whisper into your ear, and you nodded, as much as you could. Obediently, you stayed for as long as your breath allowed you to, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes, before patting his thigh three times, and Viktor released you with a loud groan, spit glistening on his length.

“Good girl,” he breathed, and you felt something perking up inside you as you reached back out for him to suck on his head. He leaned in the chair, granting a few languid rolls of his hips into your mouth, whispering quiet praises when you gagged yourself on his cock. Undying affection seeping from his eyes, from his touch, pumped air into your lungs, when your nose couldn’t.

“Will you be a good girl and eat me up?” he asked, feeling the lance of lust twisting his guts, his movements speeding up, his breath hitching and you mumbled something sounding like a yes against his thrusts.

His body curled in, hands cupping your face, thumbs digging into your cheeks, wiping your tears away. You felt him hitting the back of your throat a couple of times, drool leaking out with each movement in and out, before his stomach tensed up and he coated the inside of your mouth with his cum, distantly whispering “Yes, yes, good girl.”

You swallowed the salt of him, not letting him out, making sure to lick down every last drop. Viktor shuddered, suddenly overstimulated, and gently pulled you up to sit back on his lap. The thin layer of your knickers so wet it almost disappeared as your cunt pressed on his softening cock. He licked his thumb to clean the smears of mascara cascading down your cheeks and murmured, “You did very well. I forgive you,” before kissing you on the mouth lovingly.

A giggle forced itself out of you, as you wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your face into his neck. “Were you really so upset?” You asked quietly, tracing your fingers up and down his chest.

“Of course not,” he chuckled, massaging the nape of your neck. “I wanted to see how willing you would be to apologize though.”

“You are such a bastard,” you smacked his chest and bit his neck, making him wiggle and wince underneath you. “Now you have to apologize to me.”

“If you accept apologies delivered while laying on my stomach, I am willing,” he stated with a shit-eating grin. His expression softened, when he asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Well, tricked!” you exclaimed, narrowing your eyes at him. “I’m alright. Pleasantly full, I might add,” you added with a smirk and placed a peck on his lips. “You?”

“Eh, quite alright myself. Pleasantly devoured, though slightly hungry,” he mused, nipping at your lip, before deepening the kiss. You felt breathless again, his hands sneaking under your shirt, when you mustered some strength to pull away and breathe into his mouth, “I might have something to eat for you when we get home.”

“Or—” Viktor cocked his head, eyeing your knees with a knowing smile.

“Or… what?” You arched your brow, knowing exactly where this was going. Viktor licked his lips.

“What if I am too hungry to wait? Would you accept my apology now?” He asked and his smirk deepened as he tapped your hip three times signalling you to stand up. “And maybe lock the door? For a good measure. Unless, of course, it was a part of your little plan.” His eyes feigned innocence as he played idly with the hem of your skirt, and you could feel your face flush red. Of course, the door was still ajar.

“R-right,” you stuttered sheepishly and went to lock it, your legs wonky. You almost skipped coming back to where Viktor’s finger was pointing on the desk. He let you in between him on a chair and the edge of the wood and pushed his palms flat underneath your skirt to yank your knickers down to your ankles. You shuddered at the sensation of the material ungluing itself from you.

“Up,” he commanded and once you were seated, he leaned down to pick up your underwear, sniff it obscenely to finally put it in his pocket. Your eyes were so transfixed on the action, that the touch of his hands under your knees startled you, as he scooted the chair closer to the desk and hooked them over his shoulders.

And then he paused, eyes staring at your weeping cunt, his breaths deep and steady as he inhaled your scent. “To think you would let this waste and make me wait until we get home deserves a punishment in itself, I might say,” he murmured and the hot air coming from his mouth fanned your skin. His flat palm travelled up from your navel to your stomach, pressing you to lay down.

He didn’t wait for your spine to meet the desk fully, so when he dived in, the back of your head hit the wood with a quiet thump. His tongue stroke a rapid lick along your seam before coming to your clit with a chuckled hum of approval. A very vocal moan pushed itself past your mouth and you were grateful to your past self for closing that door. Soon your voice pitched higher as you breathed an incomprehensive, “Ah, Viktor,” while trying to bring your hips closer to his face, but his grip on you rendered it utterly impossible. His licks, fast and precise, caused your thighs to shake on his shoulders.

His hand slid from pressing on your stomach down to your navel, his thumb brushing your clit, when he asked hoarsely, “And what do we say to a Gregory, next time we meet him, hm?”

Completely confused and frustrated at the sudden change you managed to rasp, “Who?” and Viktor chuckled warmly, straight into you. “Good girl.”

His tongue slid down to your entrance, giving you shallow thrusts, while his thumb rubbed even circles on your clit, keeping the previous pace. Another thump of your head, fingers whitening at the edge of the desk as you tried desperately to move underneath him.

He began to deepen his movements, pressing his face hungrily into your cunt. Feeling your walls closing down on his tongue and mouth, his thumb picked up the pace. And you felt it so strongly, the orgasm wrenched out of you, built up by the last hour of apologizing on your knees. You felt it down to your toes, your heels digging into Viktor’s ribs as he hummed into you, drinking you all up, and keeping your thighs hooked with his arms. Only when you patted his shoulders blindly, he released you, placing one last kiss on your pubic bone.

You pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes, exhaling shakily, your chest heaving. You heard him getting up, allowing your legs to hang limply from the edge of the desk, as he circled around it, and took your jaw in his hand. He leaned in to give you a sweet kiss on the mouth and asked, “Am I forgiven?”

“Yes. Am I?” you murmured against his lips, and he smiled again.

“Not sure. You might want to check again at home.”

[marauder-misprint]

"friends can cuddle, right?" prompt with sirius????

Not sure if you wanted a platonic or romantic Sirius, but I'm a Sirius girlie so you got romantic ♥︎ If you want a more platonic version, just submit another request with platonic in the request.

Study Buddy

Sirius Black x fem!Gryffindor!reader

1.7k works

cw: fluff

It was a common sight. You snuggled into Sirius’ side on the couch with his arm draped around your shoulders. Or him laying on your lap with your hand in his hair. One of you was always using the other’s shoulder as a pillow in History of Magic.

For two who constantly insisted that they were only friends, it seemed as if Sirius made it his life’s mission to have a physical connection with you. But it wasn’t like Sirius never touched anyone else. He was constantly tackling and hugging James, Peter and Remus. He got into physical altercations with the Slytherins almost weekly. Sirius dealt with his feelings physically. 

You suppose that that’s why you found yourself in your current situation: tucked under Sirius’ arm, your back against his bare chest, in his bed, under covers. Nothing had happened. You were fully dressed and Sirius had on comfy shorts. But to the outside eye with the briefest of looks, it was a very compromising position. And the outside eyes of James would lead to a mess of a rumor. 

Leading up to waking up in Sirius’ arms, you had been studying with him in his dorm. He was prideful and therefore hated when he had to ask for help with an assignment. He had asked you because he knew that you wouldn’t tease him about it. Even better, you wouldn’t tell anyone about it. You were good with keeping secrets and telling people to mind their own business with choice words. Because of his pride, the studying had to be done somewhere other than the library or common room. So that’s how you ended up in his dorm.

After two hours of studying, Sirius had announced that he needed a break. He got up and went into the bathroom. You started putting things away, essentially taking his declaration as a hint to leave. Your assumption was reinforced when Sirius emerged, shirtless with the comfy shorts. He climbed into his bed and watched as you finished putting your things away and turned for the door.

“You’re leaving?” he had asked.

“Yes?”

“Come nap with me.”

You bite the inside of your lip, considering the situation. You were pretty sure that you were going to end up napping in your own dorm anyway, so what was the harm of napping here? It wasn’t like you hadn’t slept near Sirius before; it just was never in his bed, with him. 

“Yeah, sure,” you had said, putting your bag down. 

He held up the blanket in front of him so you could slide in. It didn’t take long for you to get comfortable. The bed smelled deeply of Sirius, which was never a bad thing. Even fully dressed, you could feel warmth radiating off of him as he pressed his body into yours. It was nothing short of comfortable. Sleep took you quickly with Sirius’ slow breathing matching yours. 

You both were asleep when James walked into the dorm. His day had been fairly plain until that moment. Usually, he didn’t give a second look to Sirius’ bed, especially if he was in it, even more so if there was someone else in it. It was never his business. Until he saw your bag on the floor next to Sirius’ desk. He nearly let out a squeal when he saw your face. He was back out of the dorm in seconds, booking it to the common room.

“I called it!” he bragged to Remus and Peter.

“Called what?” Peter asked, not looking up from the chess board.

“Y/N and Sirius.”

Remus snorted a laugh. “They aren’t.”

“Then why are they in Sirius’ bed? Naked.”

Remus and Peter’s faces snapped to James with a smug look on his face. Then they both get up and sprint up the stairs. James just waits. They return quickly, expressions an equal mix of amusement and horror. 

“I did not see that coming,” Remus muttered.

“You only deny dating that fervently when the feelings are there,” James said knowingly. 

“How long do you think it’s been?” Peter asked. “How long have they been hiding it from us?”

Naturally, by the time you wake up, the entirety of the common room believes you and Sirius are dating. You gently lift Sirius’ arm off you so you can get up. As soon as you pull away, he grumbles, still half asleep.

“Where’re you going?”

“Getting up. I have assignments of my own to do.”

“But you’re so warm,” he moans.

You roll your eyes despite knowing he won’t see since his eyes are still shut.

“You know what else is warm?” you ask, grabbing a quilt from Remus’ bed. “More blankets.”

You lay the quilt over Sirius and tuck him in.

“Not the same…”

“You’ll survive,” you say.

You grab your back and leave the dorm. You head to yours, avoiding the common room completely but coming face-to-face with all of your roommates. 

“You’re dating Sirius Black?” Mary accuses as soon as you walk through the door.

“No?” you say taken aback. 

“We don’t believe you.”

You give the group a quizzical look.

“You were in his bed, naked?” Lily says, really only questioning the ‘naked’ part.

“I was not!”

“Naked or in his bed?”

You hesitate before saying, “Naked.”

“So you were in his bed,” Marlene gushes. “Do tell more.”

You put your bag down on your desk and sit on your bed. The cost of being Sirius’ friend was defining said friendship to your other friends. 

“We were studying. He got tired, decided to take a nap and asked me to join him. We napped. I was fully clothed,” you gesture to your wrinkled clothes, “the whole time. He was shirtless but he had on bottoms!”

“So you’re sleeping together now, huh,” Marlene says with a glint in her eye.

You groan. “For the love of Merlin, do not phrase it like that!”

“You’re saying there was no shagging?” Mary asks.

“No shagging. No kissing. No inappropriate touching. Just two friends cuddling.”

The girls don’t say anything.

“Friends can cuddle, right?” The girls remain silent. “Right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Lily says, giving you a sympathetic smile. 

Sirius was having a similar conversation in his own dorm. James had spotted you crossing from the boys’ stairs to the girls’. He grabbed Remus and Peter and the group went to confront Sirius.

“So, Padfoot, when were you going to tell us?” James says casually as they enter the room.

“Is that my quilt?” Remus asks, eyes going wide. He was making horrid assumptions about the activities that might have gone down and he felt the need to burn it.

“Tell you what?” Sirius groans, sitting up. He immediately pulls the quilt higher and leans into it. It was warm. 

“About your new girlfriend,” James answers. “Although, I suppose, we don’t know how new she actually is.”

“Don’t have a girlfriend…” Sirius says. “Who’s spreading rumors now?”

“Damn, you sleep with your dear friend and you’re not calling her your girlfriend?” Peter asks, shocked. 

Confusion and then realization flash across Sirius’ face. “Y/n?”

“Yeah, caught on, have you?” James asks with a grin.

“Yeah, we’re not dating. As for sleeping with, we napped. Cuddling, you know.”

“No shenanigans?” Remus asks tentatively.

“No shenanigans,” Sirius confirms. 

James and Peter share an unconvinced look.

“Hey, friends can cuddle.” A beat. “Friends can cuddle, right?”

“Usually they keep their clothes on…” Peter mumbles and Sirius falls backwards into his pillows. 

---

James, Remus and Peter didn’t help quell the rumors they had started so you and Sirius made a habit of individually assuring people that friends can cuddle and that’s all you were. This, of course, was done without talking to each other. Not talking was helped by you both trying to avoid each other. You don’t talk until the evening before the test that you had been helping Sirius study for. He was freaking out on the inside. So he approaches you feeling more nervous than he had in a while.

“Study buddy?” he asks.

“Uh, yeah. Give me one sec, I’ll meet you up there.”

He nods and heads to his dorm. You had been working on an essay for a different class so you had to clean up your stuff. With the distance the two of you put between you, the rumors had lessened, but now you worried they would only be refueled as you went up the boys’ stairs. As you climbed said stairs, you began to question yourself. Mainly, if ‘friends’ was all you and Sirius were. You had never minded his touching and the naps and the cuddles and the hugs and the piggyback rides and the hand holding. It only fueled the secret crush you had on him. You knew so many girls liked him and you cherished your friendship so much. You wouldn’t dare say anything. 

Yes, you won’t say anything. You decide on that. Until you open the door and see him sitting on his bed, waiting for you. 

“Friends can cuddle, right?” 

The question flies out of your mouth before you can stop it. Sirius stares at you for a moment. Then he gets up and walks toward you. He puts his hands on your shoulders to hold you at arms’ length.

“I asked the boys the same question.”

“Are we friends?”

“Yes.”

“And we did cuddle.”

“Correct.”

Your next question, you already don’t want to ask it. But you need to. It needs to be asked. It’s burning as it rests on the tip of your tongue. You squeeze your eyes shut, not wanting to see his reaction when you ask it.

“Is friends all we are?”

There’s silence. Sirius’ grip on your shoulder only gets stronger. You’re about to open your eyes when something touches your face. His nose? Then his lips meet yours. You don’t open your eyes until he pulls back. The kiss only lasted a second. You don’t know what to say or how to react. So you stare at him, your mouth open in surprise.

“Was that okay?” he breathes, his face still close to yours.

“Yeah,” is all you can bring yourself to say.

“Then friends is not all we are.”

[ateliersss]

Downtime and a Bath

Pairing: Yautja x Fem!Reader Summary: Your mate returns from a hunt, in desperate need of a bath. Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: English isn't my first language Word Count: 1.823 Before the Blooming Family series

⇨ I'm not exactly happy with it, nor am I sure if it's even worth publishing, but anyways, here it is. I had an idea three hours ago and wrote the thing in two, therefore the poor quality. But hey, at least it's out of my head.

⇨ Also. thank you to each and everyone of you for letting me reach a 1.000 followers a few weeks ago!

It was nighttime.

Lounging on your nest, you tilted your head back and looked out of the window behind you. Upside down, the twin moons, twinkling stars, and other celestial bodies you couldn’t name were occupying the bottom of your view while the wildlife with its mountains and forests extended across the top of your eyesight.

You sighed at the inky-black sky. Mi’ytiar had told you hours ago his hunting trip would end today and you had hoped it would be at a time you were awake. But according to the moons, the night was already half over and you knew you would soon pass out from exhaustion.

Maybe you could rest your eyes for a little bit. There was no problem with that, right? You were already lying in such a comfortable position — the cushions underneath you supporting your body just right, the blanket keeping it neither too warm nor too cold, the pillows behind your head cradling it perfectly. You could just close your eyes and listen to the crackling of the fire around your nest. No shame in that.

You were just dozing off, losing the inner battle against the overwhelming fatigue, when you heard a dull thud that was muffled by the closed door that led to the main area of your home.

“Wha…” You mumbled and pushed yourself up with your eyes still half-closed.

Seconds later, the door slid open and revealed the imposing sight of your mate.

So he was finally home. It made you breathe out a happy sigh and a drowsy smile etched itself onto your lips. You felt instantly at ease at having your mate back home and by your side. Not that you ever felt in danger being without him on the grounds of his clan, but you could never know who or what could force its way into your home when Mi’ytiar was gone. However, you doubted that they could make it far to you. Not only did your mate have his loyal warriors who had their eyes on you when he wasn’t able to himself, but the three Hell Hounds outside would rip anyone with bad intentions apart.

You rubbed your eyes until Mi’ytiar became less blurry and you let them wander over his figure, noting the state he was in. He was covered in dirt, grime, and what you hoped wasn’t his blood. As much as off-putting his appearance was, you were pleased to see that he complied with your wish to keep whatever corpse he had kept as a trophy away from your bedroom and instead leave it on the table in the main room.

You were just about to open your mouth when you flinched back at the intensity with which he was stalking towards you, embodying every aspect of his predatory nature, eyeing you like his next prey.

“No, Mi’ytiar. Don’t you dare!” You protested when it became obvious he was about to climb on your nest, dirtying it with whatever disgusting fluids his body was covered in.

But he didn’t listen, his mind hazy with hunger and overcome by the lasting high of his latest kills. Bad Bloods were a nice challenge and he was thrilled when he discovered that three of them were hunting on a neighboring planet. Their heads were now lying on the sleek black surface of the table outside.

You yelped when his bone-crushing weight settled on top of you, successfully covering your whole body with his, and his face buried itself in the crook of your neck. You could hear and feel the greedy intake of your scent through his nose. His tongue licked over every inch of your skin nearby as his hands roamed your body, his claws already ripping on the fabric of your nightwear.

You would have spread your legs for him, would have helped him take off your clothing, offering every part of your body for him to take, to devour, if the fact that he was just ruining the materials you had used for your nest wasn’t the only thing on your mind right down. As well as the disgusting stench that overwhelmed your nostrils and made you gag.

You weren’t the most flexible, definitely not now, but you still managed to pull up your knee and push him away from you by placing your foot in the middle of his chest. You knew you wouldn’t have succeeded if not for a subconscious part of his mind was still able to obey you even though his logical thinking was clouded with primal need.

Mi’ytiar, though very reluctantly, backed down and sat back on his haunches. His claws dug into his thighs and his chest was heaving with heavy breaths, showing how much strength it required for him to hold himself back.

“I’m sorry, my love, but you reek.” You grumbled and eyed him in disdain.

He only growled back.

“Why don’t we take a bath, hm?” You suggested with a head tilt to the door to your right which led to what you would call a bathroom by human standards.

Sliding sideways off the nest, you walked backward, a smirk on your face and your eyes fixed on him as your fingers fiddled with the knot of your robe, a souvenir you had acquired from one of your trips to Earth.

“Are you coming, tanhì?” You asked him, placing one foot behind the other.

The swishing of the door and the different feeling of the floor covering signaled you had entered the bathroom. The first time you had been inside it when Mi’ytiar had shown you your new home, it reminded you of a cave. Despite the usual futuristic and modern Yautja aesthetic, this room had a natural feeling. It wasn’t unlike the bathroom of the apartment you had lived in with your family decades ago. The necessities had been there. Except for a bathtub. Yautja didn’t necessarily bathe. They swam, yes, but bathe?

You didn’t exactly need a bathtub as you hadn’t used the one you had back then, but after a tiring day, it had been nice to relax in the hot water. Someday, you had voiced your displeasure to Mi’ytiar who had scooped you up and taken you to the hot springs not far from the clan grounds but still inside his territory. And although the sight of it was breathtaking — steam rising from the ponds of water arranged like stair steps so the water could run down from one spring to the next like a waterfall — and the surrounding nature was quite romantic, you weren’t exactly comfortable stripping naked where whatever lurking creature could creep up on you.

You didn’t want to complain, of course, and you would eventually adapt to the fact that you had to forego certain human comforts. That didn’t mean you didn’t share how humans lived compared to Yautja with him whenever a difference in their everyday life occurred, be it the bed, clothes, or the bathtub.

Just as you were getting used to bathing in the hot springs, hidden in the rock crevice, you stumbled over the beginnings of what would soon look like a pool when you walked into the bathroom to relieve yourself. It was nestled into the large niche — square, three meters by three meters — of the room opposite the door where the shower-like setup used to be. When you had asked him what this was about, he had only said “Home.” and left it by that.

Standing in front of said pool, you turned your head to look over your shoulder and watched as the door closed behind Mi’ytiar who had just entered the bathroom. You let the robe slide down your shoulders and to the crook of your arms before letting it pool at your feet. When you turned to face him, you revealed the side profile of your body to his eyes, the swell of your breasts, and the small bump your belly was sporting.

When you thought back to your profession on Earth, you looked like any expectant mother in the late stage of her first trimester. Your baby bump wasn’t that big yet, but you still had to give up on certain items of clothing because they already wouldn’t fit you anymore.

When your belly started to grow, you suddenly remembered that your period should have started roughly two weeks ago. The second your brain had fully comprehended that your mate could have possibly impregnated you, that with the highest probability you carried the product of your mutual love under your heart and that you would soon become a mother, you didn’t waste a second to track him down and tell him the big news.

He hadn’t exactly reacted the way you had hoped. Instead of a positive or negative reaction, instead of pressing his forehead to yours while purring or growling at you to get rid of it, he had just stared. He stood frozen in front of you and fixed your hands which cupped the barely noticeable swell of your stomach.

You had just gained a little bit of weight, he told himself. She couldn’t be pregnant, she couldn’t carry my pup.

How could you, a human, be able to achieve something where others had failed?

He needed answers, so he hastily but carefully picked you up and took you to Cahrein who only confirmed your suspicion. You were indeed pregnant.

Only after a quick talk with the tribal healer, something about “not possible” and “how”, he finally showed you how he really felt — overjoyed. And how could he not? Now that you were carrying his pup, you were connected to your mate in every possible way.

“Are you coming?” You asked him again, one foot dipped into the warm water.

Mi’ytiar didn’t waste any more time getting rid of his armor, not caring about any damage he may cause, as he ripped every piece of it off his body, letting it fall to the ground as he walked to the pool. When he stepped into it, your body was already fully immersed and you swam to where you kept the nourishing oils, sweet-smelling soap, and the washcloth. With everything you needed in hand, you returned to where Mi’ytiar had settled on the bench of the pool. You freed your hands by placing everything on the edge so you could lift yourself up on his lap. Mi’ytiar immediately pulled you closer, one hand wrapped around your thigh, the other embracing your bump.

You didn’t talk while you cleaned him up. You stayed quiet, not feeling the necessity to talk, while he relished in your pampering, only voicing how much he enjoyed it with purrs. And when you were done, you snuggled up to him, cheek pressed against his chest and arms loosely wrapped around him. Mi’ytiar later had to carry you out of the pool, dry you off, and bring you to bed, your sleeping form pressed against his body.

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[leviraaaaaa]

In another life?

Levi stared at you from across the room, watching you as you distractedly fumbled with the straps of your gear. Your fingers worked clumsily as they attempted to work with the clasp on your thigh properly, only for it to keep slipping out of your grasp, again and again, earning annoyed huffs from you. You were late, you knew. The others in the room had already cleared out, leaving only you as you struggled and Levi as he watched. But the more you tried to hurry, the worse it kept getting, the belts getting all tangled up with each other and you looked like you were about to cry.

He would've left by now as well, if not for you and your misery that made him stick around. It was very unusual to see you this unsettled, specially right before an expedition. Your hands were trembling uncontrollably. Levi felt frustrated just by watching you. Finally, his patience wained as he sighed and stepped forward.

“Call yourself a captain and you can't even tie your gear.” He muttered as he kneeled in front of you. Without letting you protest, he slapped your shaking hands away and took the strap to his own hands.

You were about to argue but when he shot a glare at you. You shut up. Even you knew when to be stubborn and when to be not and the clock that ticked away on the wall was a clear indication of what the choice should be. Therefore, you settled with a quietly mumbled curse but stretched out your leg anyway.

His expert hands worked fluidly, slipping underneath the belt and wrapping it around your shin. He pulled out one end and the leather grasped to your leggings.

“Too tight?”

“No.”

He did the other leg too, finishing the task you'd been struggling with for the past 15 minutes within 10 seconds. When he was done, his hand hesitantly reached up for for the ones at your thighs. He shot a questioning glance up towards you for approval and you nodded. This was no time for proprietary. He went back to work.

“What's on your mind?” He asked, glancing at you with gray eyes when he was done. In them, he had worry.

Everything. You wanted to say when you looked at him. Everything.

But of course you don't.

You shook your head, standing up. Wordlessly, you stepped around him, picking up the the sword sheathes hanging on the wall and adjusted them to your waist.

Levi stood up as well, brushing down his pants. He was about to tell you he didn't buy it. There was something wrong, he could tell, but before he could part his mouth, someone entered.

“Levi—Ah, I see you're here as well.” Erwin's deep voice reaches you as you turned. “Shadis is asking about your absence. We have about 5 minutes until we depart. Is everything okay?” Erwin's blue eyes found yours as he asked the last question. Levi didn't fail to notice.

“Yes, sir.” You replied, a little too quickly perhaps. Levi's eyes narrowed. “I'll meet you out, sir.”

You sidestepped Erwin, in a hurry to leave the room. But just before your face disappeared, he caught the sight of absolute despair that was etched on your face.

.

“What's wrong with her?”

Erwin turned around, not surprised to find Levi on his horse, stanidng out of formation and beside him. “Levi.” He said pointedly.

“Don't be an ass, I'm going back in a minute.” He snapped. He knew Erwin knew something. “What the hell is wrong with her?”

“Hange says she's sick. Threw up in the morning twice apparently. Refused to have breakfast as well.” Erwin shrugged.

Levi paused. Now that he thinks about it, sure, Levi hadn't seen you down at breakfast hours. He had just assumed you'd gotten in earlier.

Levi looked outraged. “And you're letting her out like that?”

“Levi, really.” Erwin sighed, looking at him. “Since when does she listen to me?”

Levi felt irritated. It was stupid of him not to realize Erwin must have told you to stay in. More stupid of him to not realize you had said no, like the arrogant shit you were.

He thinks of your face from a few minutes ago, when you were struggling with your battles. It would've been an hour and you still wouldn't ask for help. That's just the way you were. He thought of your pale face and shaky hands. He thinks of the formation quickly, running an image in his head. You would be on the north perimeter, far away from him, surrounded by a bunch of rookies. You'd be on watch which was comparatively less dangerous, but he felt uneasy anyways.

“Put me near her.” He said suddenly. “Let Eld handle my squad.”

Erwin gave him a strange look. It made Levi self-conscious. “What?” He said defensively. He knew it was strange, fuck, but he couldn't think of another way. He couldn't let your stupid ass alone out there.

“She can take care of herself." Erwin said. "She's a soldier, she knows what she's getting into. If she thinks she can handle it, why not have a little faith?”

“If she dies out there because she's too fucking stubborn," He jabbed a finger at him. "You'd be the one sorry.”

Erwin looked thoughtful. “Heart getting in the way of your head, Levi?”

Levi felt heat rushing to his cheeks. But Erwin cut him off before he could say anything.

“But yes,” He nodded. “I was going to tell Hange to keep an eye on her. But you don't listen to me either, do you?” He looked at him, the blonde man's piercing blue eyes searing straight through Levi's soul. “Do as you may.”

Do as you may. Levi thought about the words as he turned his horse around. Do as he might— for a friend. If that's what you were.

.

“Are you supposed to be here?” You asked tiredly, glancing at him when his horse stopped beside you.

“No.”

You frowned.

“Last minute change of formation.” Levi lied.

“Erwin didn't tell me.”

“Because he sent me here to tell you.”

You gave him a skeptical look. It was clear you did not believe him, but you didn't say anything else.

And that's how Levi knew there was something definitely, definitely wrong. Anytime else, you would've never let this go easily. You would've pestered him, annoyed him with questions, teased him, made every use of it until you got the answers you were looking for. Then you would argue. Bicker at him to convince you were okay so he left you. You hated the idea of getting help anyways, specially from him.

But right now, he glanced, you just looked so very tired.

.

Expedition had started a while ago. Neither you or Levi had exchanged any words since then.

The two of you were on watch duty, perched on a tree as you scanned around for any upcoming titans, the smoke gun ready at your hand. A bland job, unsuited for both of you and very below your skill level. But you weren't complaining and you always complained.

You looked pale. There were bruises under your eyes and your lips were chapped, you looked fragile as a bird, a very exhausted bird.

You weren't talking and so, neither was Levi. He watched you as you kept your eyes on the forest perimeter. Your gaze was so blank, Levi briefly wondered if you were even focused.

And it was because Levi was watching you so closely that he noticed the exact moment your eyes lost focus.

The exact moment your muscles went slack and the grip around your swords went loose.

The exact moment your legs crumbled and you dropped forward.

And it was because he was watching you, because in his guts, he was certain there was something wrong and every inch of him was guarded that his body kicked in just the exact moment you tipped and he dived forward, catching you seconds before you crashed onto the ground like a broken ragdoll.

—

You were sitting at a table in the sidelines, watching couples as they swayed in rhythm to the melody of the piano all around the ballroom. You hummed along, tapping your fingers as you took a swig of your drink.

It was a ball hosted with a goal to fund for the scouts. It looked all fancy, but really under those painted and polite faces were twisted thoughts and sly hearts. You could feel the political tension thrumming in the air. And though you never really liked the social expectations to meet when attending these, it was fun to dress up and get a taste of the life of nobles for a night.

Shame that it's your last ever one.

You startled when the dark-haired man appeared beside you and sank down on a chair without a word.

"Tch." He clicked his tongue impatiently, plucking off a glass from the nearby waiter. He swung one of his legs over the other, his irritated face stood out bluntly amongst all the polite smiles and pleasantries. "How long do we have to stay here?"

"Levi." You smiled. He didn't return your smile, or even turned to look at you. He merely frowned, the slight wrinkles around his eyes indicating the foul mood was not at all uncommon for him. "Manners."

"Manners? If Erwin forces me to talk to one more of those stuck up rich bastards—"

"You're the star here. 'Humanity's Strongest' remember?"

"What a joke." He huffed frustratedly. "Don't call me that. It's like I'm a product being advertised to be sold."

"If you put it that way." You shrugged. Raw words, you thought. No false Incase of politeness. He said what he thought, no filters. Always. "The human miracle, the thug from underground that held talent like no other, the one who'd save humankind. Sounds like a pretty tempting investment."

"I will pour this on you I swear."

You giggled.

"Lots of admirers though." You tilted your head to observe the group of young girls huddled in a corner, ogling at him, giggling softly and pointing. Levi shot them a halfhearted, disinterested glance, which only made them squeal louder. He scowled.

"Won't fucking leave me alone." He mumbled.

You smiled, watching him as he fidgeted, fingers holding the wine glass by the strange way you've always seen him, by the rim. He looked out of place. In this grand room filled with colors and vibrance, he was dressed in black. Trousers, shoes, waistcoat, suit—it was all different shades of black. And even his eyes were a shade of gray. It contrasted against the paleness of his skin.

He was beautiful, you thought, watching him from the corner of your eyes. Beautiful. But there was an edge to it. Like the way the sharp edge of a sword glitters in the moonlight. Intimidating. Dangerous. Mesmerizing.

It only ever made you want to steal a closer look, to peer at his heart to see if his soul was as stone made as he appeared.

You've known him for so long, since the first he ever became a scout. Yet here, right now, in the midst of all this grandeur and with him looking like someone straight out of a novel, you felt like a little child. A lovesick little teenager getting her first crush. Not a scout who's killed titans. It always felt like that. With him. It was like hoping for the moon, and you're only just a silly, silly human.

You've known him for so long and you've grown so close, yet now that you look at him, he's never felt further away.

You were only just a girl when it was him.

Levi was cruel, there was no other way to put it. But yet, as you came to realize through the years, the unkind words he threw at your way sometimes, they were only just that. He didn't mean half of it, almost as if he said them only out of habit. He was kind too, you noticed. In the strangest ways. He'd let you pester him all day, make him help you with his work, forcefully make him listen to every gossip you learnt about, rant about your little romance novels, and in turn, sometimes, when you pushed, he'd even share glimpses of your own life.

You think the strangest thing was that about him. That he pretended he didn't care, that he hated listening to you rant but somehow he always remembered the smallest details, some of which even you forgot sometimes. Levi seemed to always notice the day you didn't sleep enough, when you looked too tired, when you felt uncomfortable.He’d remind you to eat, to take care of yourself, to rest.

From a young age, you had learnt to accept that life was always going to be too short for you. That it will never be enough. There will always be something more you'd need. And so you had forced yourself to keep everyone at an arm's length. Fuck around but never, ever fall. Because it'd hurt so much less when the end bell finally rang.

So what were you to do, when your heart starts to beat differently for that one strange, complex man?

You liked the way Levi looked at you. His gaze honest and clear. You liked how straight he was with his words.

It was nice. To be with someone so rudely honest. Because Levi looked at you as if you were you. And it reminded you that this scarcity of life you were given weren't all you were.

You were a living, breathing person.

Levi made you feel alive.

A voice cut you off your thinking. There was a man in front of you, trying to gain your attention. And you smiled politely, rejecting what was probably the dozenth of man who proposed to you for a dance. Levi glanced at the dejected man who walked away sullen.

"Won't you dance?" He suddenly asked, looking at you. "You haven't moved an inch since you've been here. I thought you liked this shit."

You only shook your head.

"Why not? You look like you want to."

And you do. Levi would know. Every ball you've ever attended, you danced your ass if and then proceeded to complain about it to Levi about how bad your legs hurt the whole of next day.

You smiled sheepishly. "Not tonight." Not ever.

He sat up straight, finally turning to look at you. He put his glass down, his expression serious. Steel gaze searing through your skin.

"You're resigning." The words were a statement but it was also a question.

You stared at him.

"You didn't tell me." He said accusingly, his voice sharp. His tone gave away the anger he felt, the betrayal, through his face gave away nothing. He shook his head like he couldn't believe you. "I had to find out from fucking eyebrows tonight. Why are you resigning?"

"Well?" He demanded, when you don't respond, the hint of frustration lacing his usually cool, flat voice at the lack of answer.

"Sure you know, Levi." You sighed.

He raised an eyebrow brow inquiringly, looking confused.

"What? Is this because you passed out in the last mission? You've been a wet rag ever since." He said, frowning. "Don't tell me you blame yourself for that and think you're incapable or something."

"I am incapable."

"Bullshit." He spits out angrily. "It was this one time and it's probably because you skipped meals or something. You're better than half the other idiots."

Oh.

You realized then, only then, suddenly as you met his eyes, your heart sinking in your chest.

He doesn't know.

Levi doesn't know yet.

No one told him.

Erwin hadn't told him. Your eyes found Erwin's blue ones in a corner of the room. He gave you a slight nod, turning his focus back to the men he was conversing with. He must've thought it would be best if you told him yourself.

You felt despair, the sorry excuse of a heart that lived in your chest pounded hard.

You clasped your fingers, then unclasped it. The room was suddenly so cold. You can't do this.

Levi was still watching you, waiting. But you saw it, the sudden unease in his face as he sensed something was very, undoubtedly wrong and he shot a glance over Erwin as well. He must be realizing now, that there was something more here, something he couldn't understand. A bad news he was kept out of.

You couldn't help but think how strange fate was then. It pushed rose colored glasses onto you, granting you those soft beautiful moments and convincing you that, this is nice, this is perfect, you can live like this—until you can't. Until you're here. Until suddenly the delusions slip out and reality is a far, far tougher enemy to defeat than titans.

How do you tell Levi time was running out?

That fate was a cruel, cruel little thing.

“What's going on?” He said quietly, his shoulders tense. His expression held the subtle sign of panic in him. “What aren't you telling me?”

“Levi." You looked at him tiredly. He met your gaze with his narrowed, gray eyes. You felt sad when you looked at him, melancholic. "Don't you know?"

"What?" He asked.

"I'm dying."

—

Levi hadn't seen you since then.

He didn't know what happened to you.

You had disappeared the day after, your office cleared of all possessions, and Erwin had only told him you had gone back home. He had no way of contacting you, no way of visiting you, no way of confronting you to ask what the fuck were you talking about. He could hardly focus on his work because that's all he could think about. You looking at him with those eyes, with the saddest face he had ever seen you make. He can't forget the words you said, how you said it. That's all he could think about.

So when he received the letter, your neat, elegant handwriting on the smooth paper surface, he was relieved. And worried. And surprised.

You had wrote only two words.

"Meet me?"

He frowned. Meet you where?

But when he turned to look at the envelope, turning it on his hand to check the sender's address, he froze.

Behind it, was the address of a hospital.

—

Hange was going from corridor to corridor, swooping through room to room to find you as Levi quietly follows. He felt nauseous as he walked. He never liked hospitals. Today, he hated it even more.

It didn't take long. Hange asked a few nurses and they all seemed to know you. Levi registered it numbly, how often you must've come here for everyone to know you by name only. He briefly remembered the times you’d disappear without explanation. Was that for hospital check ups? How long had you been sick and he hadn't realized?

“Ah!” Hange's excited yelp broke him out of his daze. They disappeared behind an open door. “There you are!”

From the other side, he could hear a muffled voice. A voice he knows. His hands are balled into a fist as he squeezed them in his pockets. It didn't feel real. This can't be real. There's no way you're on the other side of that door.

He closed his eyes. He doesn't step in, he doesn't dare. It feels silly, he knew, it was your voice, your face, when was he ever scared to see you? But he was. Right now. It felt insane but he knew he'd rather be out in the forest right now, facing a damn titan than face you.

“No, Erwin couldn't come. He's been so busy but Levi—huh, where did Levi go? Wait, let me go and—” Hange's head pops back out. “Shortie, are you being shy? She's looking for you!”

Fuck. Was there still time to leave this fucking place?

But no, Hange knew. They were looking at him with the same excited expression but their eyes had a strange, determined look. You have to do this, they were telling him. For your sake.

So he did. He exhaled sharply and hoped for composure and walked in.

And nothing in this world ever could've prepared him for what he saw.

Just over the few weeks, your eyes had sunken to your face and your cheeks were hollow. And your face was pale, almost as colorless as the white hospital walls. There were wires attached to you, through your wrist, through your nose.

You looked broken.

But your eyes lit up the moment you saw him.

"Hello." You smiled.

And yet somehow, he thought, in the strangest way, you still looked beautiful. Now more than ever. Beautiful in a way that terrified him. It made him feel sick to his stomach. But he couldn’t look away.

He swallowed the dread down.

"You look like shit." He said.

You broke into a smile.

"Sit." You patted across a chair beside you. "Don't worry, I've made them disinfect the room twice. No germs." You reassured him, grinning. You knew him so well.

He said nothing, but silently took a seat

When you beamed up at him and his heart tugged. It took so little to make you happy.

Then you turned back to Hange, the two of you slipping to easy conversation. He doesn't know for how long. He kept his eyes on the floor. To look anywhere but you. He doesn't know when the time passed, but every once a while you would laugh at something Hange said and that's the only time he would feel conscious, your voice bringing him back. That's the only time he spared a glance at you.

You laughed the same. You looked in pain, but you laughed the same.

It went on for a while more, as the two of you chatted, discussing such casual things, none of you addressing him. He was grateful for it, to be ignored. Grateful to not be expected to be included in the conversation. It was hard enough to be here. He's not you or Hange. He couldn't pretend everything's fine and laugh about it.

But he could almost convince himself that everything was fine. Everything was fine. He was in the meeting room in the Scouts headquarters with everyone else and you were fine. Hange was shitting about military police and you were agreeing. Hange was telling you about titans and you were listening. And in this version, you were fine. You weren't here in this small, colorless hospital room, with tubes and needles going through you.

“Right. It's getting late, so I gotta go. I hope you feel better, girlie,” Hange's voice snapped him out of his daze as they pushed back on the chair to get up. He dully notices Hange's choice of words. Feel better. Not get better. “We’ll try to come by when we can. Make sure to drop by when you can as well. C’mon Levi let's go.” They nudged his shoulders. Levi felt relief. He needed some fucking air.

But Levi was only about to stand up when your fingers reached out to wrap around his hand.

“Levi.” You asked him, speaking directly to him for the first time in the hour. “Stay a while?”

He flinched when you touched him. He doesn't meet your eyes. Instead they find Hange's brown ones, who were watching the interaction closely.

“Sure Levi, why don't you accompany her?” They smacked his shoulders casually, but Levi didn't miss the intentional squeeze. “You don't have anything to do today anyway.”

Levi considered rejecting you for a second, considered making up some shitty excuse to escape this room and escape you, but then he looked at your eager expression and he found himself sitting back down. Levi could get low, but even him wouldn't go this low. He couldn't go that cheap. He couldn't be that much of a fucking coward.

“Wonderful.” Hange grinned. “Tell shortie to behave please. He'd been a mess ever since you left.”

“I will.”

Then Hange was gone. Leaving the two of you with each other and a chilling silence.The first confrontation in weeks.

He didn't think this room could get any more fucking suffocating.

He glanced down where your hand touched his. Your wrist looked so slender it was as if he could break it just by wrapping his hand around it. Skin and bones, that's all you were. Fragile.

"I'm glad you came." You whispered.

Levi inhaled sharply. You could tell him to jump off an edge right then and he'd probably do it.

For a long moment, Levi said nothing, just stared at where your hand rested on his wrist. His fingers itched to pull you closer, but he held back. He holds you gently, so gently, like you were made of glass.

Like you were the most precious thing he's ever held in this lifetime and now you were slipping away.

"I don't understand." He said suddenly.

You stayed quiet. You knew what he meant.

He felt angry at you. So fucking pissed. He felt betrayed. It's like everyone knew except him. Erwin knew. Hange knew. He didn't. Then you fucking spring this on him and disappear for weeks. And that wasn’t fair. That wasn't fucking fair.

“You could've told me.”

You looked down, letting out a soft breath. “I didn’t know how.” you admitted. You never wanted to see that look on your face.

Not yet. Even now that you'd told him, you wished you didn't. You wished you had a little more time.

Levi clenched his jaw, casting his eyes to the sterile white floors.

“When?” His voice was rough.

“Always.”

So you'd been sick. From the day you'd arrived. He felt hollow. In Levi's head, he could remember you. He could remember the first he'd seen you. You were dying then and he hadn't known.

After a pause, he spoke again, his voice carefully blank and face expressionless. Silver eyes devoid of all emotions as they looked down at you.

“How long?”

You keep quiet. Not long. You don't tell him that though. After a while, you spoke. “I don't know.” You said. “Days? Weeks? Months? Who knows. I'm not getting better.” You smiled.

He doesn't know what to say to that. How to respond to that.

He doesn't know how to feel.

"You were fine." He said, almost numbly. As if affirming it would make it true.

"No " You shook your head. "No, I wasn't.”

"You were fine. Even weeks ago. You were fine.” He repeated, shaking his head. He knew it was pathetic. He knew it was hopeless. He knew he was just lying to himself because hell, if he's got to accept this shit. He pulled away his hand from you, ignoring the hurt look on your face. “You were fine. You went out on expeditions. You fought titans. You sparred with Miche. You were fucking fine.”

"I'm sorry." You whispered. But he shot a heated glare at you. That wasn't what he was asking.

“The meds stopped working." You shrugged. “It was always going to. Eventually. It's surprising that it even worked for so long.”

Finally, after minutes of agonizing silence, he let out a tired breath. “Leave it to you to find the stupidest way to die.” He muttered.

You smiled weakly. “Pretty pathetic, huh?”

So much pain. He was in so much pain, you knew.

Levi doesn't show it, he refused to show it, but fuck, you knew him so well, it hurt. He cared so much. So so much.

You'd seen him hold on to a dead comrade for months. Everyone would forget them, not Levi.

Levi can't let go.

It was his eyes that gave it away. Never had he ever looked at you that way. His eyes seared through your soul like he was searching for an answer. Searching for a way, something to hold onto you with. Like he knew. He knew you were fading away. Like he could feel the emptiness you felt with every breath. In his eyes, you saw the most subtle glimpse of despair.

The more you looked at him, the more you felt vulnerable. Something was breaking inside you at the sight of him. Every bit of desire you'd locked away was strangling your heart.

He was here, with his dark hair falling over his face and the silver gleaming through his half lidded eyes and shit, he was so beautiful. Since the day you met him. You felt so soft when he looked at you. So fragile.

You yearned. So badly. Would it be so wrong?

“Do you think I'm pretty?” You asked him.

Levi was confused, caught completely off-guard. “What?” His asked uncertainly?

“I want to know.”

“You want to know if I think you're pretty?”

“Yes.” You smiled.

“Do you always have to be so unserious?”

“Yes.”

Levi blinked. Then sighed. You and your fucking theatrics. “You’d think someone who's dying would ask smarter questions.” He muttered under his breath.

You held your gaze. You wanted him to answer.

Levi balled his hand to a fist. His fingernails digged into his hand. He knew he couldn't lie. Not when you were looking at him like that.

“...I don't know.” He exhaled softly. “Sure, I guess. You keep a neat face. I suppose you don't look that shitty.”

“Even now?’’ You looked at him pointedly.

He stared at you. You and your sunken cheeks and your fragile hands and your tired eyes. You looked ethereal.

Even now.

“Yes.”

You thought you might cry. It hurt. It hurt more because you knew he was being honest. You could tell from the way he was looking at you. He still saw you in the brightest light.

And that sums up the kind of person Levi is.

You're pretty, Levi. You want to tell him. You're so fucking pretty, did you know that?

You don't though.

But he did look so fucking pretty.

You felt sad suddenly. All those fucking years he chose to be a nonchalant bitch. He chose to act like he doesn't give a fuck. And now that you're here, to the end of your lifeline, now he was gonna look at you like that?

You can't do this.

You thought you could, but no. You overestimated your strength. You thought you could handle this. You thought you were strong enough, strong enough to be with him like this, strong enough to handle the way he was looking at you. But no. You should've never called him here.

You can't do this.

He has to go. For your sake. And for his.

“Levi.”

“What?” It was so unfair, you knew.

“Leave.”

His eyes widened. But you held your gaze.

Levi was startled at the sudden shift of mood, the abrupt turn the conversation took. He stared blankly.

“I want you to leave, Levi. And never come back.”

His mind felt empty. There was something strange in your eyes, a desperation. You were looking at him like you wanted him to understand something. Like you needed him to understand. But he didn't understand. What was happening? Why were you saying that?

“You don’t mean that.” He said flatly, after a stretched pause as he waited for an explanation. He looked as calm as ever, but you could see the confusion in his eyes.

You sighed, turning away and leaning back on your headrest. You refused to look at him.

“Did I do something wrong?” He pressed when you didn't respond.

You shook your head.

“I don't want you here anymore.”

“Why?” His voice was so blank but shit, you could just feel the strain underneath.

“I don't want you here anymore.” You repeated, closing your eyes. “I don't want you to see me like this.”

“You don't get to decide that.” He said, his voice harsh and laced, now with an anger as he started to realize where this was going.

“I can actually. I call the nurses. They kick you out.”

“You're being stupid. I can't just—” He sounded frustrated. “I can't just leave you here alone.”

You shook your head again.

“What the fuck? You're the one who brought me here. You're the one who wanted me to stay."

You did, didn't you? What were you thinking? Steadying your expression and masking the absolute heart wrenching pain you were feeling, you looked at him.

“I'm not going to let you do this.” You said calmly. “I'm gonna get worse. And then I'm gonna get worse. More and more. And you're gonna hate it. I'm not going to let you do this to yourself.”

He stared at you with disbelief.

“Let me go, Levi.” You whispered, your voice cracking. “You can't save me. Not this time.”

—

Well, you were a fucking idiot if you thought he was gonna give up just like that.

He wasn't going to leave you like that. In that soul less, lifeless, shitty ass hospital room, tied up to fucking machines and whatnot. He wasn't going to leave you there all alone. You're insane if you thought he was going to.

But he did leave you alone for the two weeks. He's known you too long. You get mad when people doesn't listen to and throw this big pissy rampage and Levi, for one, did not have the mood to deal with that and two, he suspected it would not be good for your health. Another reason is the hospital’s too fucking far from the headquarters. It took so much time or else he would've come earlier. He couldn't focus shit on his work because all he'd been thinking about were you and all he did was wait for another mail where you apologize and take back your words and ask him to come and visit again. You didn't.

He still showed up today, though.

With a bouquet of flowers in his hand. They felt heavy surprisingly. It was sappy as hell and he kept cringing internally everytime he looked at it. Fucking hell, he'd never though this day's come.

He looked up. It looked like it was going to rain today.

Then he braced himself. Knowing the stubborn shit you were, you were bound to throw out a reaction. But he hoped you'd forgotten about it. Hence, also the flowers. Hopefully, they'd be enough to calm you down. But frankly enough, he didn't give a fuck about your stupid reasons. For his own sake, he had to be there. He had to be with you.

So he stepped into the hospital, taking in a deep breath once the sterile scent kicked in.

He retraced his steps the last time he'd been here, taking the steps slowly. When he reached the floor you were on, he set off to the left corridor, trying to remember which room was yours. But he finds it soon enough, the familiar door.

He took a deep breath, the scent of hospitals making him suffocated. He felt nauseous again. He wondered how you looked now. Was he strong enough to do this?

Were you right? Maybe for his sake, he shouldn't be here. His heart pounded so hard against his chest and he couldn't breathe.

Fuck it.

He stepped in. Then halted.

Empty.

Everything was empty.

The shelves. The table. The bed. Every inch of the room sparkled like someone had just cleaned it recently, the scent of disinfectant hanging on the air. The last time he'd been here, there were those weird romance novels you used to like, piled on the table. All of them were gone. The bed was made up, white sheet spread smooth with the corners folded and the pillows fluffed. Like no one had ever laid there.

Like no one had ever been in this room.

“...you're…Captain Levi, aren't you?”

The soft voice startled him. He jolted, turning around to find a young girl looking at him curiously, reddish hair peeking through her blue nurse cap. He recognized her. He'd seen him the last time he was here, she was the one who showed Hange and him to your room. Her hazel eyes softened when he turned around.

“She's told us a lot about you.” She said, explaining.

Levi doesn't talk. He doesn't blink. He doesn't breathe. His hand gripped onto the bouquet harder.

“Has she been moved?” He asked, his voice harsh. He tried to steady it but his hands were sweaty and his heartbeat was rising. “Do you know where she's—”

But she was looking at him sadly, and Levi knew. Levi knew then.

The ground underneath swayed slightly and he found his eyes travelling to the floor. What was he doing here? Why did he come here today? He needs to leave leave leaveleaveleave—

He didn't need to hear the words from her, he already knew. He looked down to his hands, which were shaking slightly. The bouquet was almost haphazard from how tightly he'd been holding them. They felt heavier.

“She said you'd come back.” She told him, looking at him pitifully. “Come with me, please.”

Levi followed her. He didn't know why. He didn't even want to know why. But his head was empty and he could no longer form a thought. He could no longer think, only do what he's asked.

He didn't process where she's leading her, but then they're standing in front of a room. She tells him to wait and goes back in. Levi waited. He doesn't know for how long. Time meant nothing anymore.

She came out a couple seconds later, an envelope in her hand. She holds it out to him.

“She told me to give you this. She asked me to keep it. I told her she should just mail it but she insisted you'd come back.” She let out a soft sigh.

For a second, Levi doesn't do anything.

He stared at the paper in her hand blankly, unable to process it. His eyes hurt from staring, but in the back of his head, he already knew what it was. He should be curious, intrigued. Sad. Something. Anything. He shouldn't be this numb. But he couldn't show a reaction. He felt so tired. He stiffly reached out, taking the letter from her hand

He vaguely registered the elegant scroll of your writing on top of the white surface. To Levi, it said.

The girl looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to respond. To ask. To react. But when he didn't say anything, she looked almost disappointed.

“That's all, then.” She tells him, giving him a polite nod. “I'm sorry for your loss. I will be heading back now.”

Levi didn't say anything.

It's only when she's walking away, when she's getting further and further, he remembered something.

“Wait.” He called out, his voice hoarse. He has to ask. He needed to ask. He must know.

She stopped, turning back.

He let out a shaky breath. He needed to know. “Do you know when…” He inhaled, his voice was shaking, shit. He steadied it. “When did she…?”

He doesn't need to finish his sentence, she already knows. She looked at him. “Not long.” She answered kindly. “It’s been 3 days.”

3 days. You'd left the world 3 days ago.

“Did it..” He tried to find the right words to say. He remembered how you winced everytime you moved. “...was she in pain? When she passed?”

She shook her head. “No.” She said. “It was peaceful. She had a smile on her face.”

Right. Of course you fucking did.

Barely aware of his own actions, he turned to walk away. He needed to get out of here.

“Actually..” She started again, her voice hesitant, stopping Levi in his tracks. Like she wasn't sure she should say this. “The last word she said…it was your name.”

He can't breathe. “What?”

“‘Levi.’ she said.” The nurse told him with a soft look. “'Levi' was the last thing she said.”

—

Levi,

I knew you'd come back.

You stubborn fucking asshole. You were never going to listen to me in the first place.

Are you angry at me? You are, I know. You have every right to be. I know you're so mad at me right now and probably cursing me, but I couldn't let you be there. I know it's so cruel of me. But believe me, I had no choice. For my sake. For my sake, I couldn't let you be there. I couldn't let you see me die like that.

You have to understand. I was so scared, Levi. So terrified. And the more I looked at you, the more scared I felt.

I didn't want to leave you.

I don't care about rotting in a grave somewhere, Levi. I just didn't want to leave you.

You'd think after knowing from birth that you were going to die soon, you'd learn to not be afraid of it. You'd think being in the scouts, where everyday was a gamble, you'd learn to not be afraid of it. And I did. I swear I did. Death didn't scare me anymore. That's why I did so well in the scouts. You used to call me reckless, but there's no point of being scared for a life you were going to lose either way, was there?

I thought I could do this. I thought I could get over it. I thought I didn't have anything to lose.

But then I met you.

You with your stupid fucking ego and your stupid fucking attitude. You with the stupid hair and you with the stupid face. You with the prettiest eyes I've ever seen.

And it scared me so much. So much. What I felt for you. This constant yearning to be near you. I had so little time. All I ever wanted was to be with you. But I had so little time.

I'm sorry for always annoying the shit out of you. But I had so little time. I had to make the most of it. But as it turned out, it was never enough. It was never going to be enough.

The day the meds stopped working, the day I passed out on that expedition, the day the doctors told me there's nothing they could do anymore, the first thought I had was, “I can't be with Levi anymore.”

Not “I'm gonna die.”

But it was you I thought of.

It's so strange, isn't it? I've spent half a lifetime in hospitals and tied up to machines, having to take dozens of meds everyday just so my organs would keep functioning. I was so tired of it all, all I wanted was for it to end. I waited so eagerly for the day it'd all stop. But now that we're here, I'd do anything, I'd do anything to spend one last day with you. One last hour. One last minute. I'd give up anything to go out on one last expedition with you. Just to hear you call me a ‘suicidal fucking psycho’ again. Just to hear you get mad at me again. Just so you could lecture me. Just so you could smack my head and tell me what a fucking dumbass I am. Just one last time, for you to wrap my wounds with the gentlest hands.

I hope you know you changed everything.

You gave me my life back.

And I will owe it to you for eternity.

I'm rambling, aren't I? I don't know how much longer I have, at best 2-3 days. My lungs are going to shit and I've been tied to a nebulizer the whole week. I can't even hold the pen properly because my hands are shaking so bad and it hurts to even write. But I want to. I want to write. I want to tell you so much stuff, to tell you everything, to tell you anything. Shit, I wish you were here. It hurts to breathe, Levi, and I wish you were here. It always hurt so much less when you were here.

I think I'm going to stop here.

I can't fit a lifetime of unsaid things in one letter, could I?

Tell Hange I love them and tell Erwin, I said thank you. I'd write them letters as well if it didn't hurt so bad, so you're gonna have to relay it for me.

Don't be mean to Hange, okay? You know they love you. Let them take care of you. Let others take care of you. You don't have to be the strongest all the time. It's okay, I swear it is. It's okay to let go. It's okay to be selfish. You're gonna be okay, I promise.

I'm going to write one last thing. It's okay if you get mad at me for this, I deserve it. But I really needed to say this. I really wanted you to know. I'm just sorry it had to be in one shitty letter.

But I need you to forgive me, Levi. I'm sorry that I'm so much of a coward that I never said it to you when I had the time. I'm sorry that this is how I'm letting you know.

I really like you. You have no idea, do you?

You're such an asshole. But you're the most lovable asshole I've ever met.

It wasn't much of a life, but I hope you know that I've loved you with all of it.

If Hange's theory of multiple realities is true, I hope I get to meet you in every one. I hope you're my friend in every one. I hope I get to fall for you in every one.

Matbe I'll see you again. In another life, perhaps?

This time, I would do it right. This time, I wouldn't do this by a stupid letter. This time, I would say the words, true and honest, with every bit of my soul.

I love you, Levi. My heart failed to keep me alive but it never failed to love you.

With the little life I was given, I've loved you with all of it.

Till my last breath.

Sincerely.

P.s. I don't know if you found it, but I've stashed a bunch of those green tea you like in the bottom drawer. Parting gift.

—

Levi stood before a tombstone.

It was gray, like the sky. It was definitely going to rain.

He'd been standing here for a while now, in the cemetery, the letter clutched to his hand, the bouquet still on his other hand. The flowers were all wilted now, but the air still smelled like roses. The grave in front of him was fresh, it was obvious it's barely a couple days old. There was a name etched on the stone, a name he's known for so long. A name he knows so well.

Strangely, it didn't hurt. He didn't feel anything really. There was a strange vacancy in his chest, a voidness where his heart should be. He felt empty, like he lost a part of him somewhere.

He glanced at the letter again. It was wrinkled now, from how hard his fingers been clutching it. He glanced back at the last few sentences and he felt that familiar tug in his chest again.

Levi's head felt empty.

Out of all the ways he'd thought he might lose you, this wasn't one of them.

Out of all the scenarios he had ever imagined where there would come a time he had to lead a life without you being a part of it, this wasn't one of it. This was never one of them. Losing you like this was never one of them.

Being a scout meant there were no tomorrow's. You go out with the expectation of never coming back. And he knew that. Death was reality.

Yet. Wasn't that why he'd always been careful to stick around with you? Always making sure your gear was working, your straps were tightened, your swords were sharpened. Always looking for you first the moment the missions ended. Always the team he'd make Erwin pair him with. Because he thought as long as you were in his sight, as long as he was near enough to see you, you would be okay. He wouldn't let you die. All that for what if this is how it turned out?

Vaguely, he remembered his mother. Here he was again, after years. Nothing changed.

This was the one place his strength meant nothing. Nothing.

Him being humanity's strongest changed nothing.

“Fucking idiot.” He muttered quietly. “Don't even have the guts to say it to my face.”

He swallowed down the bitter taste in the back of his throat. What was he doing? Why was he talking to himself?

He felt angry. Angry at you. Angry because all you needed was to say it. To say it and he would've given up everything. He was angry at himself too. Who was he to condescend you when he was no better himself? When he never had the guts to say it as well?

At least you got to say your piece. Now he'll never get to.

“Fuck.” He ran a hand through his hair. He felt restless. It was so fucking unfair. So, so fucking unfair. He had so much to say. So much he's never told you.

He never even got to say goodbye.

He sighed. Looked down to the bouquet. Then to his own surprise, he crouched down, laying the flowers gently on the stone surface.

“I hope you like them. They're all dead and shit now but,” He swallowed, his hands shaking.“Parting gift.”

His touch lingered, softly caressing the carvings of your name, tracing the familiar letters. His fingers shook when he reached the deathdate.

Finally, finally, it started to rain. First, a couple drops caressing his face, and then the sky was grieving with him, crashing onto this world and onto him. He was drenched in a second, his hair sticking to his forehead and his clothes sticking to his skin. He stood up, broken from his daze. He stuffed the envelope down the pocket of his jeans and hoped that was enough, but it was already half wet. The one last thing you'd left him and he couldn't even keep it in piece. He was well and truly an idiot.

He spared a glance at the sky. He wondered if it was the rain that made it all seem so black and white. Or maybe you had sucked the color out of this world when you passed.

He sighed. Does it matter anymore?

But he moved anyway, standing up and turning away.

He can't stay here forever.

He has to go back. Go back to the lifeless foul walls of the headquarters and his stuffy office. He had a shit ton of paperwork he needed to get done. He had to handle his squad. He had to prepare for next week's expedition. He had so much to do. So much to do.

He wondered vaguely how he was going to tell this to Hange.

But he continued walking, hands stuffed to his pocket, grabbing onto the letter. He doesn't look back.

Leaving half his heart on the stone where you lied beneathe.

[exqorcism]

supernatural ━╋ father charlie mayhew

★̶̲ a/n. this is short, fluffy & smutty <3 (also new filter woohoo!) warnings. ꗃ blasphemy ･ slight worshipping ･ charlie has a big dick (surprise...) ･ masturbation ･ handjob ･ heavy religious imagery ･ blowjob ･ father charlie & reader being in love <3 wc. 959

"ephesians, 6:12", charlie's voice filled the room, rough and demanding. you lifted your gaze, looking up at him through your lashes while stroking his cock in both of your hands. your mind was empty, but you tried your best to focus ⎯ it was hard when all you could think about was his hot, leaking length just in front of your face.

"i⎯ i'm not sure", you babbled, at which charlie rolled his eyes, irritated. you bit your lip anxiously, stopping the movements of your hands altogether.

"i never told you to stop, angel", he cooed, brushing his thumb against your cheek lovingly. "focus".

it was pure torture; the way your innocent eyes met his, the way your hands moved slowly over his thick, long cock ⎯ the way it casted a shadow on your pretty, angelic face that seemed to glow in the darkness of his office.

"for do we not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rules of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places", you chanted, and charlie's chest swelled with pride. he sent you a sweet smile, nodding slowly, leaning back against the chair. "indeed, my dear", he whispered, and your lashes fluttered at the praise. with a newfound confidence, you swiped your thumb against his angry, leaking tip, earning a low moan from the priest.

"good girl", he cooed, and you moaned softly, putting one of your hands on his thigh, your long nails digging into his skin deliciously. "so good for me, so obedient. you've been made for me, haven't you?".

you nodded, beginning to stroke him faster ⎯ though it wasn't that easy when you only used one hand.

"corinthians, 6:18-20", he raked his fingers through your black, silky hair, and you leaned into his touch, swiping your thumb against his strong thigh soothingly. charlie's muscles tensed under your touch, and his cock twitched when he took in your focused expression. his other big hand replaced your own, as he began to stroke his cock swiftly right in front of your face. charlie melted into the chair, eyes threatening to close, sick satisfaction spreading across his body at the sight of you on your knees for him ⎯ almost worshipping his cock with only your eyes.

"flee from sexual immorality. all other sins a man commits are outside his body, but he who sins sexually sins against his own body", you whispered. your knees dig into the wooden floor painfully when you leaned closer, running your hands across his abs, sighing at the feeling of his muscles clenching under your skin. "do you not know that your body is a temple of the holy spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from god? you are not your own; you were bought at a price. therefore, honor god with your body". you finished, biting your lip when you met his proud gaze.

"tell me how much you love me", charlie demanded, although you could hear a slight desperation in his voice. he slowed down the movement of his hand, his chest heaving with uneven breaths.

"i love you, i love you so much, charlie", you didn't hesitate for a second, pressing soft kisses on the inside of his thigh. your hands travelled up his stomach, tracing the outline of his muscles with your fingertips. the priest groaned, his brows furrowing when he felt your touch and lips on his hot skin. the veins in his arm popped out when he stroked himself, looking deep into your eyes, biting his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.

"please, charlie⎯ let me make you feel good. let me worship you", you whispered, sticking your tongue out for him to see. "let me show you how much i love you".

father charlie's hand in your hair tightened, and you whined in pain and pleasure; you met his eyes yet again, lowering your head to press a kiss on his pretty, thick tip.

"god, help me", the priest cried out, his hips bucking involuntarily, at which you smiled softly. encouraged by the sounds leaving his mouth, you swirled your tongue around his tip, dipping it into the slit experimentally. you closed your lips around him, beginning to bob your head, pressing your tongue against the pulsing vein on the underside of his dick.

"you're such an angel. always so good f'me", he praised, bucking his hips into your mouth. a whine left your mouth at his words, as you used your hand to jerk off parts of him you couldn't take in your mouth. "fuck, i love you. i love you so much", he chanted, and you opened your eyes to look up at him, the innocence of your gaze combined with the hollowing of your cheeks on his girthy length ⎯ it was almost too much for the priest to take.

with a groan of your name, his back arched off the chair, spurts of his cum landing on your tongue and in the back of your throat. you continued to bob your head, swallowing around him, moaning at the taste.

when you finally pulled away, charlie fell limp against the chair ⎯ you licked your lips, fighting to catch your breath.

"there is no fear in love. but perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment.", you whispered softly, getting up from your knees. charlie fixed his pants before pulling you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around you lovingly. you leaned back against his chest, feeling safe in his warm embrace. the priest pressed soft kisses all over your face. with a smile, he mumbled: "the one who fears is not made perfect in love".

hoffmansgirl © 2024

nicholas chavez masterlist. | request here ♡

[remorner]

ranching so hard right now

drawing is more or less inspired by the last chapter of the fic Walls of Fire Burn Out by @watcheraurora !! (i hope you don't mind the @ !!)

it was a very pretty sight in my head and i basically wanted to draw it how i felt it would look :) (therefore it isn't too ... too accurate to the fic, woopsies)

i recommend reading when you guys got the time, she has very good fics up on ao3 so I'm sure most of her works are familiar if you've searched up tango/jimmy fics up :)

[cwwv9]

bro when I made the request I didn't know I would be ur first.

Do u mind me making another, since I'm in love with ur writing style.

How about ur fav. Bllk boy getting distracted during the match or training because they fell love at first sight with the reader.

«You’re out of the game, but in your head»

— without gender!reader x sae itoshi, hiori yo, mikage reo, michael kaiser, Isagi yoichi, rin itoshi.

warning: the material may contain romanticized obsessions, as well as elements of emotional embarrassment/confusion on the part of characters

note: ohh it’s so nice. thank you very much for another request!

mailbox open for queries!!!!

Sae Itoshi

Training was normal - hot sun, the smell of wet grass, coach’s screams. Saé moved accurately, gracefully, as always. The ball obeyed him, but the team did not. He was about to get angry when his eyes caught on something outside the field.

No, for someone.

You were sitting on the edge of the bleachers, wearing sunglasses, with your head slightly tilted, as if you were looking at something interesting. Not loud, not the center of attention, but... impossible to get away.

The car stopped automatically - literally during the pass. The ball flew past, and he watched everything.

– What are you, Itoshi? – Someone on the team screamed.

He blinked, turned away, went back into the game - and lost the ball again. It was ridiculous. And annoying. He hated to lose. But suddenly this irritation was replaced by a strange sensation in the chest, as if something had shifted. Cracked.

He looked where you were sitting. And then again. And again.

After training, instead of going to the locker room first, Saé came to the edge of the field. He got up. He looked right at you.

– Hey. You – calm, lazy, but in the voice - intention. – Who are you?

Hiori Yo

The training was over, and he, as usual, lingered on the field. He practiced one gear - soft, precise, almost a dance. Hyory was always lost in these movements, as in music. But today everything is ruined.

First, the feeling of looking. Then, a light wind that brought your voice: you were laughing at something, passing by with a bottle of water and a telephone in hand.

He looked up and... it was like the first time he had breathed in the whole day.

– Who is it? – I asked one of the guys later.

– New girl. They say she’s a cool voice, sings in the band. Just don’t fall in love.

Too late.

Mikage Reo

He loved to shine on the field. Show results. Be a star. Everything under control. Always.

Before you showed up. Not even in the field - somewhere on the side, with a tablet in hand, making some notes, chewing gum, as if you were bored.

And then you looked up. And he collapsed.

Not exactly. He just dropped off the pace, got caught in the ball, got a kick in the leg, something that hadn’t happened to him since he was thirteen.

– Hey, Mikage, you okay?!

– Yes... I... – he took a breath and glanced at you.

You winked. Smiled. And he didn’t think about anything else.

– We have to find out who she is, he told himself as he tied his boots in the locker room.

– And invite her to the concert. Even if it’s the worst date of my life.

Michael Kaiser

He’s always been in the lead. His beauty, his style, his acting. The artist on the field. And suddenly you.

You were sitting with your back to the sun, and therefore your face was half in the shade. But he saw it anyway. Because of your smile. A smile that didn’t say, "You’re cool." It was like, "Surprise me if you can. "

He couldn’t stand to be looked at like this. With a call. With cold confidence.

The Kaiser played boldly, through himself as usual - but made a mistake. Pain in the leg, falling, laughing from the bleachers.

You didn’t laugh. I just watched him get up, shake it off and... swear to himself in German. And then you pointed your thumb. Approvingly.

And that was enough for him to start training harder, faster, angrier.

– You will be my fan. Absolutely, he whispered as he looked at you. – Even if I have to learn three languages and play a fucking musical for you.

Isagi Yoichi

He was focused. The punch is the target. The transfer is the target. The look is on the gate.

And then you showed up behind the fence with a camera in your hand. It was like it happened by chance. And the snap is a photo. He heard the sound, not even knowing why it caught him. He turned.

And I saw you.

You looked at him through the lens, as if you were filming not the footballer, but the moment of truth. And he stopped breathing for a second. Everything inside feels like it’s cramped, but nice.

Who is she? Why does she film? And why... me?

He stumbled. It was the first time in a long time. The team came running, they helped them get up. And you were gone.

After the match he went around the whole field. And found a card on the ground. With your name.

And the signature: "You play as if you are saving yourself from the world. I’m waiting for the next match."

He smiled for the first time all day

Rin Itoshi

Through the noise of the stadium, Rin heard only the beating of the ball and his own breath. The match was tense, he was focused to the limit - every move is accurate, every step is accurate. His eyes were watching the rivals, but suddenly he caught a look behind the stand.

You.

Sat closer to the edge, alone, in a black hooded sweatshirt. Not as a fan, not as a journalist. It’s like you just happened to be here. But you were watching the game. On him. Right in his eyes, like he knew he’d notice.

And he noticed.

The pulse is out. He turns away, but too late - his body has already made a mistake. He loses the ball.

– Yup w... – passed through the teeth and cast a brief glance in your direction.

You smiled. A little bit. Not insolently, not provocatively - just warm. It was enough for Rin to lose focus completely.

After the final whistle, he did not go to the locker room. He approached the fence, bent his head, pulled the bangs out of his eye and said loudly:

– Why were you looking at me?

[taro-bae]

hiiii :3 can u do a can you make a fic with twst characters reacting if reader (fem or gn, idc) fall asleep in their's room? thank u! anon 🌲

Hii, thank you for the request! I'll split it up in year groups!

Twisted Wonderland - First Years

Summary: reacting to you falling asleep in their room

Characters: first years (no ortho)

CW/Notes: gn!reader, fluff, no warnings

Deuce Spade

Deuce walked into his room, coming to a stop when he saw someone lying in his bed. He notices that it's you immediately blushing, unable to move. The hest rising to his cheeks. He walks up to your silhouette carefully, not to wake you up. You are sleeping peacefully, and he doesn't want to disturb you. He's flustered but happy inside that you find his room comfortable enough to sleep in. He sits down on the chair that stands near a desk beside his bed. He quietly observed your face, how how look with your cheek flushed on his pillow. He thinks you look like an angle, that he must protect. He will not wake you up but will stay watching you, his fast heartbeat being the only audible thing in the room.

When you start to stir awake, he perks up, feeling a bit akward because he was staring at you the whole time. "H-hey, you're awake?" He says in a whipser. "Did you sleep alright?" He is still red in the cheeks, the tips of his ears heating up in contrast to his blue hair. "W-why are you in my room?" he asks curiously but doesn't actually mind you being here. You refused to get up still groggy from sleep, he decides to join you. Deuce keeps a respectful distance not to overstep your boundaries or comfort. But when he feels you cuddle into him, he melts. His heart is pounding in his chest, but he is in heaven.

Ace Trappola

Ace is a bit of an asshole. He walked into his room, taking off his jacket when he noticed you asleep. "Oi, what are you doing here?" He's shocked and secretly flustered that you are in his room right now. Ace approaches the bed, throwing the jacket onto his chair as he watches you with crossed arms, I'm his head he is thinking if he should wake you up or not. He waits until he calms down, making sure his blush is free from your sight.

He shakes your shoulder with one hand, "Don't you have your own bed to sleep in..." When you wake up and look at him, he has a subtle pout on his face trying to maintain a smug expression. "Did you miss me that much, huh?" He cannot go without teasing you even for a minute. "Move." He gets on the bed with you, throwing his arms over your shoulder other hand behind his head, trying to keep his cool.

Jack Howl

Jack returns after his track and field training, he's gotta keep that fitness up. His room is surrounded with weights and training equipment, as well as some protein powders. His beastman senses detected you before he opened the door to his room. His ears are perked up on his as his tail wags behind him subtlety. He walks into his room, all sweaty from working out, watching your peacefully sleeping silhouette. He does not want to bother you.

Instead, he let's you sleep seeing how worn out you must be. He leaves you be, going to take a shower and get changed. Don't let his serious demeanour fool you, he's full in his protective guard dog mode. He will watch over you sleeping, noting that you are vulnerable and blissfully unaware of your surroundings currently. Therefore, he must protect you. He is respectful of giving you your space, but if you invite him to join you, his tail will give away exactly how he's feeling. Cuddle him.

Epel Felmier

He walks in, tired from Vils nagging and beauty routines all day, letting out a yawn himself. He stops with a "what the-" when he finds you sleep on his bed. He sees that you are cuddling his poison apple plushie. "Yer really came 'ere?" He says mostly to himself as he approaches closer analysing your sleeping form. In his head he's wondering, "Did studying wear em out that much?"

Sebek Zigvolt

He's conflicted on what he should do. On one side, he wants to he that plushie in your hands. The masculine side of him wants to hold you and protect you from anything that comes your way. He sits down on the bed watching your face. He eventually gives in, lying beside you and holding you in his arms. He wants to feel like a man, and currently, he has the urge to hold you like you're his and his alone.

Might accidentally wake you up. He's loud.

Sebek finishes his day of classes and protecting Malleus. He comes into his room rather late. The only light source is a faint green light above the bed in his room. His initial reaction is defensive, he recognises a human form in his bed and instinctively yells out, "Who dares to be in here?!" Before realising it's actually you. In his head, he thinks, "hmph, i suppose they must be really tired if they chose to slumber here."

Sebek is very dutiful, he'll make it his mission to make sure you get enough sleep and rest well. He will stay on guard while you do, and he will consider it his training exercise. Occasionally, he will observe your face he can't help but feel fascinated and proud that you feel comfortable to fall asleep in his room.

[mettatonblog]

Seong Gi-hun x fem! reader

Summary: On your way home you are being chased by a strange man in a suit. No place seems safe until you run into an old friend, Gi-hun.

Warnings: I'm a yapper (word count: 2.5k). Also, sexy time (masturbation, oral, teasing, praising, sex toys, unprotected sex, a lot of talking during sex, penetration, creampie, fluff).

Walking alone at night has always been a terrifying experience and even more when you were being followed by a mysterious dark figure. You held your purse strap tightly and played with it between your fingers to calm your nerves. In case the man showed up, you were prepared to hit him with it. In the best case scenario, he wouldn't follow you afterward. However, worse situations crossed your mind. Therefore, you decided that the best thing to do was to find a place to hide.

Not so far from you there was a bright neon light coming from a pink motel. Although you had lost sight of the creepy man, you decided it was best not to risk going home. As you approached the doors, you realized that everything was darker and less welcoming than you had expected. Still, you pressed the doorbell as many times as you could and waited for an answer. Your knocks had not gone unnoticed. What you didn't know was that a camera had been zooming in to get a closer picture of you.

"Fuck it." You sighed and decided to walk away, trying to find a safer place so the freak would get tired of following you. Near the motel, there was a convenience store that still had light. You greeted the tired cashier and she forced a smile in return. As you checked out the products through the various food sections, you kept an eye on the window, just in case the man appeared. Once in the drink section, you took your time inspecting all the products.

“Coffee with milk… no… aloe vera juice… no… boba tea… hmmm…”. Staying focused on the juices was also a way to release the pent-up stress. However, this new task had made you oblivious to your surroundings. Suddenly, a finger poked your shoulder. It was a polite touch, but still, it sent shivers down your spine. You had goosebumps everywhere. Was it him?

"You seem to be lost." A familiar voice spoke from behind you.

"Gi-hun?" As soon as you saw that lanky figure of your childhood friend, your fear was replaced by nostalgia and excitement. You couldn't contain your happiness and immediately jumped up to give him a bear hug.

"(Y/n)!" He exclaimed and quickly returned the embrace. From the tightness of his grip, you could tell he had missed you too. After breaking away from the hug, you put your free arm around his and he gently caressed the hand you had offered him. Despite the dark circles under his eyes, his face glowed with joy.

"Gi-hun, it's so great to see you again. It's been ages, where have you been hiding?" Curiosity took hold of you. A lot of questions needed to be made.

"I could say the same, (Y/n)! We have a lot to catch on." You walked the short aisles of the store as if you were a young couple strolling through the mall.

"Tell me, tell me! Are you living here in Seoul?" The latest update you had on his life was that his daughter was a very good student and that he was having frequent arguments with his wife.

"No, no, I moved recently... work related." He scratched the back of his head and broke eye contact with you for a moment.

"Oh! Are you living here with... Ga-yeong? How is she anyway? She must be so tall by now. Just like his dad!" You mentally high-fived yourself for being able to remember his daughter's name.

"Ugh... She is actually with Eun-ji and her husband, in the US." He lowered his head for a moment, as this was a difficult and personal topic.

"I did not know-"

"Don't worry! Things happen. So, how are you? And what brings you to Seoul?" He quickly changed the subject to focus on you. After all, there was a reason he came here.

"Oh not much. Well, actually, I went for some drinks with my coworkers and they all left. I was trying to get to my house, but-"

"I saw you on the camera of the motel. Are you okay?" His grip on your hand tightened.

"Are you... working there?" Your head was not focused on the problem that brought you to this place.

"I'll explain it later, but yeah. Now tell me, are you in danger?" The joy on his face faded, revealing an expression of concern. That was the real intention that brought him here, despite wanting to see you.

"I think... I think a guy is following me." You started to remember the details of the night. "I was at the club and, as I was about to have a drink, a man in a suit offered to pay for it. He got closer to my ear and asked me if I wanted to play a game. I said nothing and went back with my coworkers. Then, sometime during the night, he came up to me again and started saying some scary shit like…." Gi-hun listened as he breathed deeply, worried about the suited man.

"What did he say?" He asked, his hand still gripping yours.

"He knew my name and surname. Also my debt. It was so weird. I decided to walk away from that place as fast as I could. I'm scared, Gi-hun. I don't want to go to my house in case he follows me, but maybe he already knows where I live."

"Don't worry, (Y/n). I'll stay here with you. You can stay at my house if that's what makes you feel safer."

"Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks, Gi-hun." On your way back to his home, you did not expect him to be living on the pink motel. Even less expected: he was the owner. The door to his room was reinforced and had various latches. The inside was quite messy with papers all around, yet he kept the place pretty clean. As you inspected the room, you quickly took notice of the different screens that showed various locations of the motel. He had cameras almost everywhere. This made you worry more about his situation than yours.

"There are many thugs around here. I like to keep an eye on them." Gi-hun sat confortably on his bed, leaving a space for you to sit beside him. You decided to sit in front of him in a wooden chair, ready to get all the answers.

"What's going on here, Gi-hun? How did you get all the money to pay for this motel and... well all of this?" The worry in your eyes was notorious. What had this man gotten himself into?

...

The hours went by quickly. You shared laughs, talked about recent losses, struggles, reminisced about childhood memories. The fear dissipated. Had a few. The attraction you felt for him was slowly more and more obvious. You got up the courage over drinks and decided to flirt with him. Gi-hun seemed to be into you by the way he laughed at all of your jokes and how he touched your arm from time to time.

"Hey, if I go into the bathroom. There won't be cameras watching me, right?" You warned him by tugging firmly on his shirt collar. The corner of his mouth trembled trying to hide his laughter.

"No, don't worry, (Y/n)." He raised his arms in an attempt to prove his innocence.

"Good." You pointed the leather bag that was on his bed and he brought it closer to you. "Thanks." With a last dangerous but flirtatious glance, you left the room.

The bathroom was not anything out of this world, yet it had a very nice bathtub with a purple curtain. You checked your face on the mirror to reapply mascara. Your lipstick was long gone but as you were anticipating a lot of making out for this night, you did not put any on. For an extra spicy touch for the night, you took your panties and bra off, hiding them in your bag. Now you were only wearing a tight dress that left no room for imagination. Once you were ready, you walked back to the room. An entertained and slightly drunk Gi-hun was waiting patiently on his bed.

"You look different." Gi-hun's hand was resting near his crotch and the other one was holding his weight.

"You like it?" He was enjoying your moves as you showed him your dress. You left the bag on the floor and walked enticingly towards him.

"(Y/n), you look amazing." You sat on his lap facing him, with your expossed crotch pressing on his clothed member. Gi-hun's jaw was relaxed and all you could hear were his heavy breaths, filled with desire to have you.

"You should have told me that a long time ago." You cupped his cheeks between your hands. His face looked pretty funny all squashed up.

"I'd never thought a woman like you would like someone like me." Your hands were impeding Gi-hun from speaking properly.

"You want to fuck me then?" Your direct question caught him off guard, so you took the chance to explore his body. Your index finger caressed softly his cheekbone, admiring his handsome features. You then moved to his shoulders, massaging them and pulling his shirt down. As you started touching him, his hands travelled from your back to your butt, pressing his nails softly. When he noticed you were not wearing panties he gave you a dirty look that let a loud laughter escape from your lips.

"You little freak." This just made him want you more. His movements became more savage, exploring with more passion and leaving no room for shyness. You could feel his clothed erection pressing between your thighs.

"You look so hot when you're horny." You complimented Gi-hun enjoying his facial expression. You also teased him with some wet kisses.

"(Y/n). You can't even imagine how much I want to fuck you." He brushed his fingers over the hem of your dress, lifting it slowly to reveal more skin.

"Me too." He squeezed your ass cheek, still waiting for permission to touch in between your thighs. As it was quite difficult to reach to your parts in this position, you laid down on the bed. You opened your legs widely, making it clear that you wanted him.

"You are quite impatient, aren't you?" He said as he grabbed your thighs firmly. As his head lowered down in between them, you traced with your fingers along the strands of his hair. You could feel his hot breath in your pussy sending shivers throught your entire body.

"Touch me." You ordered but he ignored you. He kept massaging all the places around your pussy to make you crave his touch even more.

"I'm sorry, darling. You will have to beg for it." He licked his lips softly caressing around your folds with his fingers.

"Please, Gi-hun. I need you." You pleaded and he seemed to be satisfied. His index finger found you clit and started rubbing circles against it. You took advantage of the fact that you were holding his hair and you lowered his head to your pussy. In no time, his lips were sucking on your clit, making you shiver and pant even faster. He changed the motions and pace from time to time, which made you go crazier for him. Your vagina was pulsating, wanting him to penetrate you desperately. Gi-hun took notice of this and moved his hand closer to your entrance. He slipped a finger inside of you and in return, you gave him a satisfied smile as he pumped it in and out. Then, he pulled one finger more, still sucking and licking on your clit.

"Is this what you want?" His face was now not so many inches away from yours and his finger still pumping in and out of you.

"I need you Gi-hun, please. Fuck me." You said that last one making eye contact with him flirtatiously. He pulled out his wet fingers out of you for a moment and moved to a drawer to get something.

"You see. When I bought this place it came with some free toys. I still have not had the chance to use them. Wanna try?" He revealed a vibrating bullet and turned it on, showing you the different modes and intensities it had. You gave him a quick 'yes' with your head. He pressed the toy on your clit and a loud moan escaped from your lips when he inserted his fingers back. He enjoyed every bit of it.

"Gi-hun!" You exclaimed grabbing his hand with force. The sensations were becoming overwhelming.

"You look so beatiful like this." He complimented as you panted heavily. "I wonder what you would look like with my cock inside of you." Gi-hun grabbed your wrist guiding it to the vibrating bullet. Now you were the one in control of the modes and intensities. As his fingers were no longer inside of you, you decided to try with a different mode. While you were playing with the vibrator, Gi-hun's hand hooked under your thigh and pulled one of your legs over his shoulder. The other hand unzipped his pants and pulled down his boxers to reveal his throbbing erection.

"You like that?" He asked rubbing the tip of his penis in your entrance. Seeing your facial expression of pure pleasure and the moans you gave in response were more than enough for him to keep going.

"I want you, Gi-hun." The sound of his name in your lips made him groan. The moment you said you wanted him, he pressed his dick slowly inside of you.

"You feel so good on my dick." His size filled your vagina and he waited a moment for you to adjust before thrusting. Once you were ready he started thrusting in and out slowly. Then, his eyes dropped down to your bouncing boobs.

"Like what you see?" You moved the hand that wasn't holding the vibrator to your boob and gave it a gentle squeeze. Even if he liked it, he decided to take a more dominating role. He grabbed your wrists and pulled them over your head.

"What about this? You like it?" You smiled in return and crossed your legs around his waist so he would keep thrusting deeper. With his dick inside you and the vibrator, you wouldn't last long.

Looking at Gi-hun, he would not last any longer either. His movements became more erratic and his moans louder. Your breaths quickened and your vagina tightened as you were reaching orgasm. Gi-hun took notice of this and kept the pace even if he was almost there too. You could feel everything with even more intensity now. His lips kissing yours and the wet sensations. His moans. His one day beard tickling your face. The tight grip on your wrists. His dick pressing in and out. Your vagina walls tightening. Your breath going faster. You soon came on his dick and his mouth muffled your moans. Your fluids lubricated his member which made it easier to penetrate you.

"Keep going." You told him still feeling some pleasure even if it was less intense. He pumped his dick in and out a few more times before spilling his cum inside you. Once he was done, he pulled his dick out and the cum spilled out of your vagina.

"That was amazing." He said with a satisfied smile laying beside you on the bed. He brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead and gave you a soft peck on your lips.

"Yeah, we should hang out again some time. You almost made me forget about that guy."

[heyitstam]

dr. robert chase x reader - the chase itself (smut)

hi guys :D i know i haven't posted in a while, but i recently asked a VERY good friend of mine to cook me a fanfic of this very beautiful man, and HE DELIVERED. like all out jaws on the floor type delivered. so i'm posting it here with his permission. it's his first fanfic ever, and in my humble professional opinion he overdelivered - so have fun reading this beautiful smut fic of reader and dr. chase <3

I. Humble Beginnings

Taking place in Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, New Jersey, you are a fairly new nurse who pursued a medical career in quite a common way. The way being that it was more so your parents’ wish for you to go to medical school than your own, but you don’t necessarily hate that fact; at least it gave you a direction, so to speak.

It’s early in the morning, so there’s not a whole lot going on. You went around doing your usual checkups already and what not, therefore you decide to go on your well deserved coffee break. However, right as you are are on that, and you step out of the cubicle you are in, you glance over to an unfamiliar face through an operating room.

Some would call it love at first sight, but it really is more than that. It’s the kind of tingly sensation no one could forget. It’s almost shameful, but you can’t be bothered by that feeling right now. As if you physically couldn’t take your eyes off of them, you lose all sense of purpose, standing there, unable to think. Suddenly, someone bumps into you, which wakes you up from your total amusement. You feel the need to know more, so as you squint your eyes, you can read their name off of the shirt they are wearing.

“Dr. Robert Chase..?  I need to.. have a talk with him. I just need to.” – you think to yourself, ponderingly.

You go back to working with a saturated mind, unable to concentrate.

II. The Chase Itself

As days go by, you’re quite hesitant to reach out to him, but you seriously feel the need to. Why is that, really, you ask yourself. You ache to even have a talk with him at this point, but you long for more. Way more. You can’t think of anything else.

After contemplating for a good while, you decide to ask around to know what time he gets off from work, since you want to surprise him at the last minute. That’s the only way you see that you could have a one-on-one with him anytime soon.

With that out the way, you now know everything you needed to know. The only thing that divides you from your desire is to actually act up on it, so you gather all your courage. You look at the time, and you’re actually pretty shocked how caught up you were thinking about him. If you don’t hurry then you’re going to miss him that day entirely, so you start sprinting.

You notice him as he is turning around the corner, all dressed up, ready to leave, and you stumble right into him.

“I need to tell you something inside, it’s.. it’s important, alright. And it might just take a while” – you tell him, struggling with your words. “Great. I was just about to leave, you know. Whatever, show me, I don’t have much time for this. Is it really that important?” – he answers abruptly, being quite impatient.

You suddenly catch a rush of excitement. This is all that you were planning for the past few days or so, to get close to him, and it looks like you’re on track.

III. An Uneasy Start

Chase swings open the door of the office he’s just been in, ushering you in and closing the door behind him, since there’s quite the commotion even late into the night, it’s a hospital after all. It’s dark inside, the only light sources being a dim lamp he accidentally left on and the Moon seeping through the closed blinds faintly. The room has a surgical bed, a cabinet behind it with all kinds of training supplies, a desk with an office chair and a hanger stand. He puts his white coat on the stand, then undoes his tie, putting it into his pants pocket in a really apathetic way, with most of it hanging out.

Seemingly being quite contempt with the situation, he sits down onto the office chair, facing you, and he seriously doesn’t look like he wants to be there.

As a last effort at trying to ease up the situation, you grab the glass of water that is sitting on the desk and you splash it at him, in a playful way.  Not surprisingly, this backfires, since he doesn’t seem too happy about, not in the slightest. He stands up from his desk and goes on to wipe off his shirt to make it slightly less messy, all without even muttering a word. You do feel pretty stupid for that.

With another attempt at getting his attention, you arousingly start to cut the strings off of a few upper buttons on your blouse with a surgical knife, as he turns back to you, giving him a snarky look.

“Was that really necessary? What was so important about any of this? Can we get to the damn point?” – he asks you with a loss of temper. “I might have lied about that important thing.” – you answer him not so bravely.

He's visibly frustrated at you, and with a change of demeanor, he stands up and is now closing distance between you in a rush, as you are backing up. He halts as he catches up to you, towering over you.

With both hands on your shoulders, clenching them hard, he asks you, in an almost belittling tone: “Is this what you wanted? “ “I don’t know, is it?” – you answer him in a pretty similar way.

Like the kind of tease you tend to be, you start gliding around your fingertip on his chest, which he.. seems to enjoy, and lets you do for a short while, for then to push you to the nearest wall.

IV. Lust

Fueled by lust, you immediately grab his chin and assertively start kissing him, which absolutely catches him off-guard. In reaction to the advancement on him, he forces your body onto his as he caresses your back. After this goes on for a bit, he grabs you by the thighs, lifts you up and tosses you onto the surgical table.

With your arms behind you, you’re sitting halfway up as your legs are pulled up. You lock eyes while he is still holding you by your thighs. He leans over, drags you closer and is now standing between your legs.

You clumsily unbutton Robert’s shirt, one by one. In contrast, he carelessly tears off a few more of your buttons, making the blouse slide off your shoulders, which then falls onto your lap, flustering you in the process.

He then puts a hand on your lower abdomen, which feels surprisingly soft, even though his hands are quite firm. Most notably, it’s warm. So warm in fact, you feel like you could melt into him, and you are all about that feeling. Starting from your thighs, continuing to your hips, he brushes his both his hands across all the way up to your chest in a painstakingly soft and throughout way, but at the same it’s quite the calm moment.

An intrigued nervousness starts to pile in you as he suddenly starts to unbuckle his belt, which was undoubtedly the loudest noise in the room so far. In the meantime, like the obedient girl you feel like you are, with each rattle, you can't wait to obey. As if you were a household maid, you’re more than ready to satisfy the head of the house, as if he shook a bell around.

He tosses aside his pants and boxers and you feel like you can’t catch up with your heavy heartbeats as he rests his rigid cock on your stomach. It all just feels so sudden, and it’s starting to grow on you in a pleasurable way. He goes onto removing your bra, while you’re simultaneously stroking him slowly and briefly, before he goes down on you again.

You can feel it throb against you, and it’s just as, if not hotter than his hand is, which he has below your stomach again. He needily grinds against you over and over, lifting your skirt up with it every time, and rubbing against your inner thighs.

He doesn’t wait around before removing your panties, which are drenched by this point, and neither does he wait to penetrate you, as he is inside you now.

“Maybe I did need this.. “ - you hear him talk out loud quietly.

At once, as he is slowly, but forcefully thrusting into you, you see him pulling out the tie out his pocket, which he puts around your neck now, instead of his own.

It’s tightened real well, and he’s gripping it by the base, close to your neck. In the meantime he’s constantly pulling on it upwards, as it’s digging into the back of your neck, scraping your chin against it’s band, making your head tilt backwards considerably. With every moan you make, he tightens more on it, leaving your neck all bruised up. As he is fucking you, you’re nails deep in the sheets. You can’t help yourself but feel pleasured.

As he’s starting to get rougher on you, you begin to develop second thoughts and try to resist him, but as you’re doing that, he immediately tugs you closer, rendering your attempt futile. As you look at him, he seems to be way too into this, as his eyes lose all focus and glare, and you can only watch as his control over himself fades, railing you without a care in the world. This creates even more neediness in you, as you cross your legs behind his back, clinging onto him.

You can barely even keep your eyes on him, and you’re not even resisting his pull on your neck anymore, so you fully commit into tilting you head back in joy. All this sexual fulfillment demands you to do so, as you are slipping out of control more by the second. You feel like you could finish at any time, and as he’s also getting close, he’s painfully grazing your stiff walls more and more, with your moans sounding pitifully more helpless.

Ejaculating with a quiet grunt, he blasts the majority into you, leaving two strings across all the way up your body, all for you to feel ecstatic about. You really do feel like you owned up to it with your services, as if it was his way of rewarding you. Not to forget about you, he pushes you over the edge too, as you’re desperately gripping his shoulders. No matter you could barely take a break after your climax, he leans closer over your stimulation filled shivering body, and goes for a deep passionate kiss. Not even bothered by the fact you are still desperately panting and gasping for air along with him.

V. Not So Aftercare

After standing up from the bed, he comfortably hugs you by your hips, to which you endearingly put your hands onto his. After romantically rocking you slightly around with his hug, he leaves his hands off of you to start dressing up. It’s getting quite late.

As he is about to button back his shirt, he looks at you still standing there, still looking a bit shocked from everything that happened so far. Deciding to help out, he steps besides you, getting your bra back from your bed, and putting it on you. He’s slowly buckling the back together, and you are simply just unable to look him in the eyes, since you're becoming increasingly shy in a sudden way, blushing like you never have before.

"You.. didn't have to, you know.." - you tell him in a higher pitch voice.

You really enjoy his care, it does fill you with joy. Then you reach out for your panties, but as you are pulling them up, he slides his hands under yours, taking the lead again, which surprises you even more. You are so overwhelmed with emotions at this point, you shake right into his hand as he pulls it all the way up, giving you a slight friendly chuckle, and blowing you a kiss right above the lining of your briefs, gaining him an immediate gasp from you. You're truly mesmerized by him.

He continues dressing himself, and as you calm down, you rush into his arms, facing his chest. He caresses and pets your face and head with one arm, for him to go onto groping your ass, and going down to your thighs. His hand lifts your skirt away from time to time, letting colder air in. After he finishes clothing up, he swings you to his other side and pushes you right to the desk.

“I need more of you. I need to feel you in more ways.” – he tells you with a shaky voice.

You almost even stumble, and with an utterly scared look on your face, you glance at him. Without precaution, he pushes you down onto the floor. You look down onto your legs. Your knees are together and your feet are far apart, completely side-tracking you. You even put your hands on your knees in a cute way, but as you lift your head, his cock gets into view, poking through his pants fly, which takes you aback.

Your first and immediate reaction is to press your lips all around him, kissing and licking his shaft as it pumps against your mouth. After growing tired and wanting more, he puts his thumb in your mouth, and with a few fingers latching onto your chin, he pushes downwards on your jaw. With closed eyes, you stick out your tongue, waiting for him to enter. He lets go off of his fingers from your face, following up with exactly what you expected. It feels way bigger than what you anticipated, leaving your mouth sore in the first minute, already. He’s being frantic with you, mouth fucking you without relent. You’re huffing for air as you whimper, but you aren’t getting any. You start to sob as he goes deeper down your throat. As you move your tongue in a swing like motion, from side to side, you circle the bottom of his shaft as he shoves himself in an out. You soak his cock with your saliva, blending with his precum. No matter how much of it you gulp down, It’s flowing out your mouth.

Resting his elbows and head above you on the desk, he looks down at the top of your head, as you suck him off. From the table, as he rocks you around, all kinds of documents fly off. Not that he cares, really.

Without even telling, he comes into your mouth, throbbing against your lips. You stomach it all as you look up to him, initiating eye contact, and smiling. After spewing out his cock, you grab it by the base and gently rub it off with a napkin. He pulls his zipper up, and kneels down. He parts your hair slightly and greets your forehead with a last smooch.

Looking back at you for the final time, he waves at you, winks in a mocking, yet sweet way and leaves though the door. You can only wish to meet soon in a similar fashion.

VI. Reflection

You’re at a loss of thoughts. He’s been so careful, yet so careless with you at the same time, and that’s just messing with your brain right now, so you lean your head against the desk, you close your eyes and give into the bliss once again.

Even after he left, you’re sitting in the dark, in the same position he left you in, with his tie still around your neck. You feel embarrassed, but you can’t help yourself as you take in the scent of his tie, pleasuring yourself through your clothes, while thinking about him. He has a hold on you, and you know that well.

[amelee23]

My hero | Bang Chan

Pairing: Bang Chan x female reader

Genre: Married fluff, (a tiny bit of angst)

Word count: 2.400

Requested: yes

Warnings: mention of a stomach bug (very briefly) insecurities (both), self-depricating jokes (both), some marriage difficulties, caring for a child, they're EXTREMELY in love, tooth-rotting fluff

Both you and Chan loved to have your crazy fun, but to a certain limit. A limit you both understood so well, as if it was truly a shared items between your minds. Therefore, after your long awaited wedding ceremony, where tears were shed, dances were danced, cake ended up on the floor and someone's shirt, the bouquet throwing almost knocked someone out, and fortunately no relative started a fight - you both drove peacefully, home. No long flights to Honolulu, no rushing for any 5 star hotel reservation. Just a long, deep sleep.

You awake and instantly chuckle. You barely remember that you basically threw your wedding dress on top of the bedroom door last night instead of finding a hanger. Slept with the door open and all, but you were so exhausted you don't remember even washing your teeth. You turn around gingerly and find your newlywed husband, Chris, to be slightly salivating on the pillow. Nose half shoved inside the fluff, hair every which way and his cute ears poking through, his silver earrings still on. He was a sight to behold, and this sight was truly now yours.

You brush a few strands of hair away from his eyes, and as you accidently touch his ear he shudders. You procrastinate for a good five minutes, in which you gently pet his hair, and then lean to kiss him on the forehead before you get out of bed.

"No, don't leave." He calls out to you, his voice raspy and his accent thick. You give into the temptation and lay back down next to him.

"Good morning, my husband." You say, and it's so cheesy it makes you giggle.

"Good morning, my wife." He says with a toothy grin. You just married him, and you have a lifetime ahead of you to admire him and love him, and yet you're impatiently urging to jump on him and smother him in kisses for how adorable he looks. Cuteness agression and all.

You decide you won't be eating Chris alive one kiss at the time, and instead you lay your head on his outstretched arm and allow him to wrap the other one around your back, bringing you one breath away from his chocolate eyes admiring you sleepily.

"So, what will be our first important decision taken as husband and wife?" Chris asks you, and you furrow your brows. Does he mean something like deciding to paint the room green or getting a cactus?

"Deciding what to eat for breakfast?" He chuckles at your answer.

"The most important meal of the day! Yeah I think that's a very big decision to make. And as your husband, to showcase my deep trust in you, I allow you to have complete power over this first decision." He speaks so eloquently, you slap him on the arm and he begins to giggle.

"You're just too lazy to help me think!"

"What? Me? Neveeeerr."

"And I'm guessing you also want me to go get said breakfast if you're letting me decide what we eat." Chris pretends to gasp.

"How did you know? See, we're perfect for each other! You can read my mind." He makes that usual tutting noise as he winks at you and you go from adoring him to wanting to shove a pillow in his face. But most marriages are like this, you imagine.

"Fine, I'll do it. Under one condition."

"Anything my wife desires."

"You have to answer why you chose me. Like, as your wife. Why me and not anyone else?"

"Why not?" Chris answers with a laugh and you're reaching for the pillow and he doesn't even try to dodge.

"No but really, why did you?" You try your hardest to not show that this is a real question for you. Not just a joke to put your husband in a tough spot for fun, but an actual curiosity that makes you insecure. And Chan hates it when you're insecure.

"I chose you as my wife." You squint at him in a feeble attempt to understand his words.

"Yeah .... you did, since we just got.... married... But why me?" Chan laughs and flails his arms, probably realizing his words didn't come out very coherently.

"No, I chose you as my wife the entire time. It just took me a very long time to realize it.

When I needed an opinion on a song, for some reason I chose you instead of, y'know, the people who produce music with me. When Seungmin caught that stomach bug and I needed to get him to the hospital, I chose to call you to come with us. When I needed to have a serious conversation with someone, I'd call you up even if I'd be surrounded by 15 close friends in physical range of me. I used to choose you even if it was irrational, even if I was a burden to you-"

"You were never a burden to me, Chris."

"I hope I wasn't." He laughs awkwardly, almost as if embarrassed. "But anyways... Yeah. In the beginning I thought I was just being silly, but then I started to notice what I was doing. When my parents asked me if I've met anyone new, I chose you to talk about. Literally yapped for hours - you should have seen their faces! They knew I was in love way before I did. And when I was tasked with writing a love song...I chose you to write about. And then the next morning I chose to start sending you good morning messages every day. Then when I pictured Valentine's day... There was no other option other than spending it with you. So I chose to ask you out before Valentine's so when the holiday comes I could spoil you. And then I just... Continued to choose you. Over and over again." He finishes with a smile, in contrast to you who started crying many sentences ago. You thought you were done crying after yesterday's ceremony, but Chris is a man full of surprises.

"You even chose me over your career a few times..." You say as more tears escape you, a feeling of guilt washing over you. Although the fact that he sacrificed the thing he cares the most about in this world for your sake should prove his dedication, it also still makes you feel guilty to think about.

"And I'd do it again." He leans closer, wiping the tears off of your face, then taking your hand in his to lay tiny kisses on it. "So you see how I just... Chose you? From the get go? It's like I knew I could rely on you, trust you, love you eternally. From the day we met. So it's not... Anything you said or something specific. I just chose you. All of you. To be mine. All mine." He pulls you into a tight embrace and you feel the way your body wraps around his by instinct. Like you were molded to blend together. "You're mine." He kisses the side of your forehead and butterflies wreck your tummy. "My wife."

"But you could have chosen anyone else..." You still mutter unsurely, but Chris shushes you and pats your head.

"But I didn't. And I won't." He reassures you, rocking you left and right in a calming motion. He truly wishes he would be better at showing you and telling you just how much he loves you, how much he wants you in his life. He could never blame you for having insecurities about yourself, but at the same time he feels although he's failing as a lover if he lets those those thoughts invade your mind. He truly wishes his love could seep into your bones.

"So you don't just want me for my spicy chicken recipe?" You try to joke, to ease the atmosphere, bringing Chan out of his thoughts.

"I mean ... The spicy chicken is included in the package, right?" He continued the joke, but underneath that pearly smile he gave you, Chan was set on making you the happiest wife on earth. Whatever it took.

Even if that meant some arguments, some bumps down the road, and making you uncomfortable with affection and attention until you allowed him to love you well. That was a part of marriage no one warned you about, something you had to figure out along the way - that sometimes you have to make each other uncomfortable in order to grow. Sometimes you have to push some limits to become happier.

And so many years into the future, after the birth of you first son, you pushed a limit that wouldn't even seem humanly possible to Chris. You somehow convinced him to go on tour and leave you alone to care for your son. He was two seconds away from quitting his job and becoming a convenience store worker upon hearing just how many months he'd have to away from you and your four year old son, who needed very much to be around his dad at that age. But you convinced him, reassured him everything was going to be okay in his absence.

"Dada's out there spreading happiness into the world." You whispered to your son, who was sleeping in the same bed as you ever since Chris left on tour.

"Like a superhero?"

"Exactly like a superhero, baby. To every single city he goes, he makes people so happy he saves their lives."

"Dada's so cool." Instead of being able to calm him down to get him to sleep, it seems your son gained energy from the conversation instead. He was now flailing his tiny limbs around.

"Do you wanna watch Dada perform?" There is a video of Chris you have saved up on your phone, from a solo stage he had during a concert where he sang a lullaby. It was the most children friendly performance you had, plus it matched the melodicity of the songs Chris used to sing to you at night to soothe your pregnancy pains.

Your son always falls asleep listening to his father's voice, almost through magic.

When his breathing evened out, you thought it was finally time you kick back and relax with an episode of your favorite show while enjoying some not-so-recommended late night chocolate. As you headed into the hallway, you spotted Chan leaning on the wall and had to glue a hand over your mouth to not scream and wake up your son.

"Chris, you scared the shi- .... heck outta me! What are you doing here?"

"We have a few days off in between stops and I couldn't just sit in a hotel for three days while I was dying to see you two."

"So you're telling me you spent 10 hours on flight, to stay here for one day and then fly back to god knows where?"

"Exactly." He says, face full of dimples and his eyes sparkle in the dark shadows of the hallway.

"You're insane." You laugh quitely.

"No, I'm... a superhero...? That saves lives...? You gotta let me know what you've been telling him, or else he might be disappointed in me when he finds out I can't fly."

"You don't need to fly to be a superhero."

"Oh yeah? Then care to tell me what makes me a superhero?" He flirts with you, gently pushing your hips into the wall behind you as he leans over you. You keep an eye on the door to make sure your son doesn't wake up and walk in to see how big of a flirt his father is. He'll have decades to cringe over it later.

"Remember when I used to feel bad for all the nice things you used to do for me? All the help and the gifts?"

"Mhm." The limits Chris used to push and how they bothered you - they resulted in a lot of friction early on in the marriage.

"And you told me that I need to allow you to make me happy. And since then... I chose to. Just how you chose me to be your wife... I chose to let you make me happy. I chose to allow you to be my hero. It's tricky, because heroes need sleep too ..." You softly caress his cheeks, and even under the dim atmosphere of the hallway you can see the dark bags under his eyes. "and they can't always save the day... but I swear to God you make the world a better place. You make my world a better place. You're my hero."

Chris leans in to kiss you in the same way he did when you were young and unmarried. It's a kiss that burns you, a kiss that makes you feel like a woman. A kiss that made you want to be married. A kiss that teaches you to breathe underwater.

"You call me a superhero when you're literally managing a house, a job, a kid, a long distance relationship, a social life and yourself all at once. And somehow nothing is on fire and you're not losing you mind even when your good for nothing husband doesn't call or text for days."

"Don't talk about yourself like that!" You slap him on the chest, but unfortunately he's not in a joking mood.

"You're the superhero between the two of us, honey. If there's one thing I've learnt along the years it's... That the reason why I chose you as my wife.. the one you were asking me about all those years ago? Maybe there was actually a reason. That you were always stronger than me."

"Me? You're joking, right?"

"Not at all. You're the hero, I'm just trying to be the wind behind your wings. I'm sorry for missing your calls and not video-calling more often, and just.. being gone in general. I've missed you." You decided to drop the subject since Chris seemed too emotional to be coherent. You weren't mad at him for anything, and he surely was undermining himself by calling you the strong one.

Unfortunately, it's not like you would accept the title of hero and he wouldn't accept it either.

The one thing you didn't realize is that you were both superheroes. But it's okay, since your son was onto you a long time ago. He'll protect your secret, and hopefully, also grow into a superhero himself.

©amelee23 do not copy, translate or repost

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[ninus9607]

❝𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬❞

𝟣𝟣. 𝐻𝑜𝓌 𝒹𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒸𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒷𝑒𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒽𝓊𝓇𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝒷𝒶𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒/𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃, 𝑒𝓉𝒸…

Pairing(s): Marvel Characters x Female! reader

Word count: 3.6k

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER INCLUDES DEATH AND BLOOD

tags: l content: fluff, jealousy, blood, death, Comfort Fic, Mission Gone Wrong, Kidnapped Reader, Injured Reader, Possessive Love, Emotional Support

AN: HEYY GUYSSS, I hope u like it! SORRY FOR EVERY MISTAKE HAHAH, ALSO my requests are stillll opennn so feel free to ring me up!

xx

Steve Rogers / Captain America

You were wrapping up a busy morning at the flower store when it happened. The bell above the front door rang, indicating another customer, but this time, a bunch of guys jumped in. They were harsh and definitely not here to buy flowers. They did not say anything, but grabbed you and demanded to know where Captain America was. You attempted to struggle back, but their hold was too powerful. One of them held a pistol to your side, which silenced you quickly. You were afraid.

They pulled you out of the store and threw you in the back of a vehicle. Your thoughts and heart were racing.

They wanted Steve, and they knew exactly how to find him. As the van raced away, you realized you wouldn't be able to get out of this alone.

Hours passed, and Steve had no idea. He was in the middle of a meeting with the Avengers when his phone rang with an unfamiliar number. His stomach fell just when he replied, when he heard your voice shaking on the other end of the line.

"Steve... they took me."

Steve was a man of action, therefore, there was no time to spend. He dropped everything and instantly began planning to get you back. The drive to the destination was a haze. Steve's hands gripped the wheel tightly, his thoughts racing through every possibility. He was aware of the risks. He knew that the guys who were capturing you would not hesitate to hurt you. However, there was no turning back. He was not going to lose you like that.

He eventually arrived in an abandoned warehouse, as the kidnappers had described. It was disturbingly silent. Steve crept inside, his senses on full alert. He went fast and quietly, taking down every guard in his way. His concentration was focused on one thing: bringing you to safety.

When he finally found you, you were trapped in a small room with your wrists tied and your face pale from stress and a lack of food. You looked up, shocked to see him, but the relief rushed over you and caused your chest to constrict. Steve raced up to you without saying anything, his hands quickly reaching for your shackles. He mumbled your name and looked you over quickly.

"It's okay, I'm here," he murmured, his voice raspy with emotion. "You're safe now."

You nodded, too overwhelmed to say anything, tears welling in your eyes. He drew you into his arms, clutching you hard as if proving to himself that you were indeed present, alive, and in his arms.

Headcanons:

Steve's Protective Nature: After the kidnapping, Steve becomes extremely protective of you. He's constantly checking in on you to make sure you're well and nothing else happens. If you are out of his sight for too long, he becomes nervous.

Steve's physical affection has grown more intense, particularly in public places. He does not mind showing affection, but it is obvious that he is still dealing with the fear of losing you. When you're together, he'll make a point of holding your hand or wrapping his arm around you, especially if others are there.

His Guilt - Steve feels terribly bad about the incident. He hates himself for not defending you sooner, which often leads to times of silent meditation in which he simply stares out into space, thinking. He may even apologize repeatedly, regardless of your assurances that it was not his fault.

The First Time He Lets Himself Sleep- Steve struggles to sleep after settling in for the first time. He is terrified of losing you, and he is often up at night, keeping an eye on you. He eventually comes to trust that you are secure. The first time he falls asleep in your arms, he gets his first complete night of sleep in days.

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Tony Stark/ Iron Man

You used to joke with Tony that dating a millionaire Avenger was a combination of luxury and near-death incidents. You never believed you'd be proven correct.

It started as a routine day at the Stark-Malibu mansion. The sun was beautiful over the water, the AI was playing your favorite music while you prepared breakfast, and Tony had just stepped in wearing nothing but sweatpants and his smug little smirk.

"Good morning, gorgeous," he replied, stooping down to kiss your forehead before pouring his coffee.

You expected another quiet day. You were wrong.

It happened quickly.

The windows smashed first. A missile, followed by another, struck the cliffside property with terrible power. You shouted as glass rained down around you, and you ran behind the bar just in time. The house is shaking. The alarms boomed.

"JARVIS, suit!" Tony shouted, and in an instant, bits of his Iron Man armor rushed towards him from across the room, clamping onto his upper body.

He looked at you while explosions shook the floor of your house. "Stay down. No matter what, don't leave this area."

"Tony!"

But he was already gone, flying into the sky to stop anybody who tried to harm his house. You shook, your heart pounded, and your ears rang. The mansion crumbled around you. Smoke engulfed the air. You couldn't breathe.

You crawled into Tony's hidden panic room, murmuring prayers under your breath that he would be well.

Not until the door was wrenched open and Tony appeared in the entrance, covered in soot and grime, eyes wild until they landed on you.

"You're okay," he whispered, falling to his knees in front of you. "You're okay."

Headcanons:

After the attack, Tony activates Hyper-Protective Mode, providing complete protection. He replaces your phone with Stark-level technology, provides you with AI security, and insists on putting defensive procedures anywhere you go, even your favorite bookshop. 

Tony sleeps with one eye open and struggles to sleep properly for weeks afterwards. When he does, it's just wrapped around you, with fingers continually touching some part of your body—as if he needs constant confirmation that you're real and alive.

Shower Moments: Tony often avoids talking about his feelings, but the post-traumatic stress brings them to the surface. You'll be standing under the water as he carefully washes your hair, murmuring how sorry he is and how he'll never allow you to be in that type of danger again.

Guilt and Fear: Tony has deep guilt and dread. He had always feared that his opponents would target those he cared about, and now it has come true. He gets nightmares about it. He even considers shoving you away for your own safety, but the moment you see that expression in his eyes, you shut it off immediately.

"Do not even think about it, Stark. We are a team. You and I."

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Bucky Barnes / Winter Soldier 

It was supposed to be a regular infiltration mission. Inside and outside. Minimal contact. You and Bucky had done this a hundred times: two shadows moving as one. Professional, crisp, and focused.

But it didn't matter when the information was incorrect. While the enemy was waiting.

You didn't even hear the gunshot. Just feeling the sting in your side and the way your legs collapsed beneath you. You landed hard, your breath seizing in your throat as your fingers brushed against the cut, wet with blood.

"Y/N!"

Bucky was at your side in seconds, diving to his knees, eyes wild, one hand cradling your face and the other clamping down on your wound.

You attempted to speak, but your voice broke, and sorrow shot through your body.

"Hey, hey. Don't talk. You're okay. You're going to be fine," Bucky whispered, his voice low and angry, as if he was forcing it to happen.

The following few minutes were blurred. Gunfire. Screams. And Bucky transformed into something unrecognizable, as if his Winter Soldier instincts had snapped into place and the only thing that mattered now was to defend you.

He snatched you into his arms as if you weighed nothing, clutching you to his chest as he tore across the property. You could hear his pulse racing, feel his breath on your hair, and the way he repeated your name like a prayer.

"I've got you, doll. You are secure now. Please hold on. Do not close your eyes, okay?"

You awoke hours later in an Avengers. Medical facility, you're side stitched and bandaged, painful as hell, but alive. Bucky sat near your bed, slumped over, clutching your hand as if it were the only thing holding him together in the world.

He appeared to have remained still.

"You scared the shit out of me," he said, his voice scratchy. "Don't ever do that again."

You smiled weakly but sincerely. "I didn't plan on getting shot, Buck."

He did not reciprocate the smile. Instead, he leaned in, placed his forehead to yours, and breathed you in.

"You are everything to me." I can't lose you."

Headcanons:

Human Body Armor: Bucky refuses to let you lead the front line after that incident. Even during missions, he puts himself in front of you, metal arm ready, eyes continually searching. Even if you object, he will protect you.

Overprotective but Soft: He is both overprotective and soft, keeping a close eye on you without overwhelming you. Always be sure you eat, relax, and heal. He acts like a guard dog, yet he wraps you in his sweatshirt and kisses you on the forehead before tucking you into bed.

Haunted by "what ifs": He has witnessed too much loss. Losing you would break him. Following the mission, he silently spirals—he rarely sleeps, checks on you every hour, and even sits outside the medbay at night to listen to your breathing.

Will Kill For You: No one talks about what Bucky did after you were shot. But everyone knows. There were no survivors left in that building. And he made sure your blood was the last one spilled.

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Loki Odinson/God of Mischief

In Asgard, victory was usually followed by a celebration. The palace sparkled with glittering flags and tables brimming with food and drink. The air was filled with music, laughing, and the heavy smell of battle-won pride.

You were not immediately involved in the celebration. As a maid, you had to move silently, clean fast, and remain out of the soldiers' path. However, the aftermath of conflict has delivered something else: prisoners, war-beasts in human form, bound and growling, hauled into the dungeons underneath.

Nobody expected them to escape.

You were merely in the wrong corridor at the wrong moment, on your way back to the servants' quarters, when you heard a sudden, violent crash behind you. You turned just in time to see one of the larger prisoners lunging out of the shadows, bloodied, wild-eyed, and enraged.

You hardly had time to scream before he grabbed your wrist and pushed you back into the wall.

"Pretty little thing," he scoffed.

Your heart smashed. You struggled and were frightened, but he was stronger. Too powerful.

And then he showed up.

Emerald glints. A burst of rage.

The opponent was leering at you one second, and the next he was gasping on his own breath, magically held in place. Loki showed up out of the shadows, his eyes glowing green and his power crackling in the air like electricity.

"I would think very carefully about your next breath," he said, his voice low and nasty.

The prisoner never got the opportunity to speak. Loki's blade slashed his throat in an instant—quiet, quick, and brutal.

He quickly turned to face you, his eyes still gleaming from the last pulse of power. "Did he touch you?" he said, his voice shaking with wrath rather than fear.

You shook your head, too stunned to speak.

His hand lifted, paused, and finally rested lightly on your cheek. "You are secure now. I am here."

Headcanons:

Feral, Silent Protector: Loki does not make a huge statement about what happened. But from that day forward, you're never alone. As you walk the corridors, you observe how the shadows alter. Guards nod at you with odd reverence. You always get the feeling that someone is watching you, but not in a horrible manner.

Possessive to the Core: Loki is possessive and subtly claims you. There's no spectacular statement; he simply starts showing up more. Giving little grins. Standing by your side. Looking at everyone who speaks to you for too long, as if he's measuring them for a coffin.

Gives You Power: You discover that you have suddenly been granted new rights. Fancier chambers. Lighter duties. A lovely necklace adorned with protective runes - "a gift," he adds casually, yet the enchantment enters your skin like his promise.

Little Acts of Care: He's subtle, but not shy. He appears with warm tea when you're tired. Offers books you never told him you liked. One day, there's a knife under your pillow - enchanted, beautiful. "Just in case," he murmurs.

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Natasha Romanoff / Black Widow

Training sessions with Steve were usually tough, but you enjoyed the challenge. He was patient, motivating and pushed you just the right amount. Until today.

It went on quickly.

You were sparring hand-to-hand, deflecting his punches and dancing just out of range. But one step too late- one miscalculation, and his foot collided with your knee more forcefully than expected. You dropped with a sudden yell, pain shooting up your leg as you grasped the joint.

Steve knelt immediately, an apology washing across his face. "Shit Y/N, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

But before you could respond, she was there.

Natasha burst into the training room like a red flash, her gaze fixed on you before switching to Steve with ice-cold precision. "What the hell happened?"

"She took a hit, wasn't meant to land like that," Steve said, raising his hands.

Natasha did not even glance at him. She crouched behind you, pushing your hair away from your face, her gaze sweeping across your entire body.

"You're done for today," she said quietly, slipping her arms beneath you before you could argue.

"Nat,  I can walk! "

"No, Milaya. You don't get to debate. You got injured. You are mine. I am taking care of you."

You looked up at her, shocked, as she effortlessly grabbed you into her arms and took you to the medbay, ignoring everyone else in the gym, including a very embarrassed Steve.

"I'm not mad," she said softly into your hair. "But I am going to kill him just a little bit later."

Headcanons:

Ultra-Protective Mode ON: She's already protective on a normal day, but the second you get hurt? She's locked in. No more training unless she's there. She even makes you wear knee pads when walking around the Tower as a joke, but deep down, she's serious.

Scary Calm with others: She does not shout. She does not throw punches. But her quiet is deadly. Steve maintains she didn't say anything after the incident, but he remains scared of her glare.

Shadows you for days: She stares. Always around the corner. Constantly keeping an eye on everything. Do you go to the kitchen? She's already prepared your tea. Do you wince when walking? She's already by your side, her arm around you.

Loves babying you: She won't say it, but she enjoys caring of you. She brings you to bed, rubs your knee, carefully bandages it, and kisses your forehead as if it were sacred.

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Wanda Maximoff / Scarlet Witch

It was supposed to be a straightforward observation mission. Inside and outside. No major clashes or shocks. However, those are always the messiest.

You were teamed with two fresh recruits (Wanda was not on the team this time), and somewhere along the road, a concealed Hydra sniper fired a shot. The bullet touched your side, drawing blood but not killing. Nonetheless, it was scary. You were able to patch things up and complete the assignment. Barely.

However, as soon as you returned to Avengers base, everything changed.

She did not speak when she saw you. Her hands trembled. Wanda ran across the corridor and held you in a tight, magic-warmed hug before you had time to catch your breath.

You could feel her body trembling against your own.

"You didn't call me," she muttered. "You got hurt. And I was not there."

"I didn't want to worry you..."

"I felt it, Y/N."

Her voice was soft. Almost childish. But there was something darker lurking beneath the surface of her gaze. The red mist wrapped around her fingers, like if it had its own awareness.

"I felt something snap in the air," she said softly. "And then I looked at my phone and saw your name in the mission report and—" She cut off, breathing shakily. "You're not allowed to do that. You don't get to be brave alone."

Before you could respond, her hands caressed your face. Gently. Carefully.

"I almost tore apart that compound just to find you."

Headcanons:

Telepathy Check-ins: She starts using her powers more often, telepathically checking in on you without asking. You'll be brushing your teeth and hear, "Are you okay?"inside your head. She tries not to intrude. Tries....

Cries When You Flinch: If you wince or shift in pain, even a little? She looks like the world is ending. She apologizes a thousand times even if she didn't cause it.

You catch her reading spells: One night, you find her in the living room, surrounded by books on blood magic and protective sigils. She's talking to herself, her eyes burning.

"You're not allowed to get hurt again," she adds quietly. "I won't let it happen."

Sleeps Curled Around You: She won't sleep till you're in her arms. She's afraid of dreams. Yours and hers. So she stays up longer, simply watching you breathe.

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Agatha Harkness

It started quickly.

One moment, you were wandering along the edge of the forests outside town, the moonlight soaking your skin and the chilly night air keen with magic. You felt a rush of fury before you saw her. Not yours. Hers.

Agatha had met paths with a witch decades before, angry, bitter, and now brave enough to seek revenge. You didn't have time to respond before the air cut apart. Hundreds of sharpened wood spikes flew your way.

One of them hit.

Right below your collarbone. Close. Too close.

You did not scream, but you stumbled back, your chest searing with sorrow. You reached up, your fingers dripping with your own blood. Even for a vampire, a cut this near to the heart may have been deadly.

Then Agatha came.

The air crackled with blue lightning, a wild force. Something inside her cracked when she saw you.

"You," she hissed, charging towards the other witch like a hurricane on two legs. "You DARE touch my WIFE"

The other witch did not have a chance.

It was not a duel. It was a massacre.

You didn't know how long it lasted, how many times Agatha attacked her with spells you couldn't even remember, but when it was over, all that remained was smoke, shattered dirt, and Agatha standing in the dark, her chest rising and falling like she'd been hunting prey.

Her eyes were gleaming as she turned to face you. Her hands shook. Her fingers were stained with blood when she reached out for you.

"You're all right," she whispered. But she did not seem convinced. "You're alright."

You were still standing. Barely. "You should see the other witch," you attempted to joke.

Agatha did not laugh.

Her lips touched your temple. Then, your jaw. Then the area around your wound. Her voice lowered to a whisper, almost reverent.

"She was half an inch away from taking you from me."

Headcanons:

Possessive doesn't begin to cover it: She doesn't let you out of her sight for days. Follows you around the house. Watches you sleep, even though she knows you heal fast.

She cannot stop caressing you: Her hands are continually resting on your neck, wrists, and back, as if she needs to remind herself that you are there. That you did not die.

Love confession through rage: "You don't get it," she hisses one night as you try to calm her down. "You are the only thing I have ever loved without falling apart. If she had stolen that from me, I would have destroyed the world."

"I should've killed her centuries ago." She blames herself. She won't say it out, but she thinks about it every time she sees the wound. She feels that allowing the witch to live was her only mistake, and you paid the price. 

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Rio Vidal/ Death

You were not even meant to be on the battlefield.

You'd simply come and bring herbs and assist healers in patching up the injured. That is all. However, conflict is unconcerned with your work, especially among chaotic people who would rather see the world burn.

A cursed soldier, blood-soaked and barely alive, struck out the instant you approached him. When his sword sliced across your ribs, you didn't scream; your breath just fled.

And for a little second, you saw her.

She stepped out of the smoke. Silent. Unmoving. Eyes like storms. Death.

But rather than taking you, she kneeled alongside you.

"I told you," Rio muttered, her voice barely contained. "This world doesn't deserve you."

You attempted to grin. "Hey... look who showed up."

Blood dripped from your lips.

Rio did not laugh. She lifted your body with unbelievable gentleness, as if you were made of light and glass, and vanished with you into the fog.

The last thing you recalled was her voice in your ear:

"Don't die on me. If you do, I will personally drag you back. Even if I have to remove your soul from heaven."

Headcanons:

Furious with whoever hurt you, Rio doesn't kill him right away. She hunts him.  And when she's done, there's no one left to bury.

Takes you somewhere only the dead know: A world of peace. You are the only living being there. She keeps you covered in warm shadows, utterly safe and entirely hers.

You're never allowed to walk alone again:  She appears whenever you attempt to travel alone. Even in the garden. Even into the kitchen. "Don't argue, mi amor," she adds quietly. "You're not ready."

Territorial behavior turned possessive: After your injury, she doesn't let anyone else near you. No medics. No friends. Only her. She bathes you. Feeds you. Heals you with her own energy.

[igotanidea]

Boss bitch and a princess: JT x reader

Summary: grumpy and sunshine trope with a little twist :)

***

The sun shining though the windows were quite surprising, if not shocking, occurrence in Gotham. Most of the citizens were used to constant rain, fog and misery surrounding them from every corner of the place. Therefore, the sight of a nice weather, for once was about to make some people content and energetic, finally getting the motivation to do some work and move on in their lifes.

Y/n was not one of those people.

It seemed like everything she did, was thrive in the October like atmosphere. Not because of the charming cosy autumn mood, but because she was cold and ruthless. She didn't give a damn about sun, butterfly, girly dresses and all that feminine stuff. Which obviously didn't mean she was a tomboy. Things like clothes and makeup just didn't took much space in her mind, she was acing them effortlessly and efficiently.

Exactly.

Efficiency.

That was definitely one of her favourite words and most definitely her life motto. Deal with shit, break the obstacles and if you cannot go though the doors, go though a window.

A taskmaster, if you may. A corporate rat. Ambitious, ruthless and unapologetic.

She woke up alone in her bed, just like every morning, immediately starting her routine of a few yoga poses, five minutes of meditation, ten minutes of setting her priorities for the day and getting into the right mindset.

She made herself a healthy breakfast and took a taxi to work.

The second she entered the building, her assistant caught up with her reminding y/n of the daily schedule, meetings, briefings and points on the checklist.

Obviously at the end of the day everything and then some was done. Including reprimanding her subordinates about being lazy and uncompetent.

In a mood she went home.

Opening the door.

"Hi baby." a little hoarse voice came from the kitchen.

"Jason!" she cried out happily, immeditely throwing her bitch boss attitude out the window. "You're back!" in a blink of an eye she was in his arms, kissing all over his face, hugging him and turning into a little ball of fluff, knowing her boyfriend was back.

"Whoa! Easy tiger!" Jason laughed wrapping arms around her waist.

"I was so worried when you weren't here in the morning!" she did not calm down even a notch. "I was thinking that something happened and -"

"I'm almost sure you just went on with your high corporate day and attitude without giving me a second thought, didn't you?" he teased, boping her nose.

"Hey, that's-" she started, his words strking her chords

"True?" he cut her off raising an eyebrow.

"Not fair!"

"But still true?' he pressed further and the roll of her eyes alongside with a pout gave him all the answers he needed. "don't do that or it will stay. would be a shame to waste such a pretty face, princess." he put one finger over her chin and lifter it out so she was forced to look into his eyes.

"You know exactly why I'm blocking it..." she whispered, getting a little nostalgic "I can't--"

"I know, I know. You've said it a million times. Emotions in your line of work are a deathbed." Jason mocked a little, empasising the fact that his beloved girlfriend had a tendency to overreact sometimes.

"It's true! You know it;s true! If any on my employees knew--"

"That you are soft for a guy?"

"That I have feelings!"

"Oh no! Look at you, you;re human and not a robot! How will you live with that?"

"And that's coming from a walking dead." she muttered, crossing arms over her chest and stepping away. "I hate you…"

Not for long though, when he reached for her in a practised move and pressed his lips to her ear.

"No, you don't princess..." his lips ghosted over her temple

"Yes I do...?"

"Really? Do you?" he moved to kiss her neck, softly, but teasingly "Cause the way you shivering right now make me think otherwise."

"Jason--"

"I know, I know... you love me so much my little grumpy." the grip on her waist tightened and he pulled her closer. "You've been lonely and that's the reason for the sourpuss mood, isn't it? Let me make it up to you..." another argument making her melt took a form of running hands all over her back, from the shoulders and down to the rear.

"You know what I like..." she responded with a hint of mischief in her voice.

"that I do..." he scooped her in his arms and carried her to the couch.

***

Half an hour later Y/N was splayed on the couch with the face mask on, hair freshly washed by Jason himself and her legs on his lap, having full control of the remote. In her own belief, this was the greatest torture she could impose on her boyfriend.

Little did she know, that is was his greatest pleasure.

Pampering her in all the million little ways. Using the most mundane, tiniest example of self-care (or rather boyfriend's care) as a way to spend time with her and have multiple excuses to touch and feel her close. Not that he needed excuses, but getting her to agree to this softness was not always easy, given her charcter.

Even that had to be somewhat productive.

But once she did agree?

Hours.

She would be glued to the spot for hours, letting him please her, comb her hair, apply skin care products on her face and body.

Finally sheding her work attitude.

Becoming his princess once more, cause with him - her deeply hidden, secretive sensitive part was safe.