#I need him to hold me down so I don’t pull somebody’s extensions out | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ababanerb · 4 years ago

Text

“when the pillars fall” shoto todoroki

Inspired by @/maddsbuckley on TikTok. Please go check her out, she’s amazing!

x x x

summary: shoto todoroki is strong, and he’s got the good looks to boot. but sometimes, in the dead of night, he falls apart and without fail, you’re there. you’re always there for him. then, the pillars fell, and he’s there for you just as much as you are for him.

genre: angst with a kinda happy ending

warnings: manga spoilers, takes place after the war arc, some cursing, critical injuries, hospitalization, shoto and reader are weak for each other

word count: 2,217

Shoto Todoroki is supposed to be a hero prodigy. Shoto Todoroki is supposed to stand tall and strong, and keep his father's hero legacy alive.

And he's all of those things. Except for late at night when he comes creeping into your dorm with the key you gave him to crawl underneath the covers with you because of a nightmare he had.

"I'm sorry. I can go if you want." Is what he says the first time he comes to your dorm, but knocking this time because you had yet to give him his own key.

"You've gotta at least tell me what's wrong first." You say gently, and he crumbles. He mumbles that it was just a silly little nightmare as tears roll slowly down his face and you pull him into your dorm to cuddle.

"It's not stupid if it woke you up, Sho," You say as he pulls you into him like you're a teddy bear. And it’s always a little awkward cuddling with him after he’s had a nightmare, his body fluctuating sporadically between hot and cold, but you don’t mind because the longer he holds you the faster you fall back asleep.

You ask him if he wants to tell you about it, but Shoto never does, saying that he’s already forgotten, but the feeling stays longer than the visual. And you nod, and drift off faster than you should, but Shoto doesn’t mind - he never does - and he’s so completely lost in you. He’s so completely enamored by you, and he’s never been so happy to be lost.

He continues to knock for his next five visits after the first night, and you eventually get tired of him waking you up in the dead of the night so you give him his own key.

The seventh time he shows up at your door, he doesn’t use the key. No, instead, he stands outside your door and calls you. The dial tone rings in his ear and it doesn’t help soothe the tightness in his chest or the lump in his throat at all, and he wonders if it’s really so bad for him to use the key you’d given him. Eventually though, you answer - you always do - and he falls in love with you all over again.

“Sho?” You ask, voice scratchy and stiff, and he can hear you through the door, “What’s going on?”

It’s technically a stupid question to ask, you know he’d only ever call you so late at night if he’d had a nightmare, but he also doesn’t call you very often either.

“Can I come in?” Shoto asks, and you make a groggy noise of confusion.

“What d’ya mean, Sho?”

“Can I come in?” He repeats, and then softly knocks twice on your door.

You hang up then, and Shoto watches your door swing open with tears pricking at his eyes. And when you drag him into bed with you the world feels like it could never be wide enough.

x x x

Then, your world fell apart.

The pillars that held up Japan’s hero society crumbled in a measly seven hours.

With too many prison breaks, fatalities, and injuries to count, Shoto could care less. Because you were gone. He’d been with you early that morning, before everything fell apart.

He’d been in bed with you, cuddled up close and basking in your presence, the two of you had changed into your hero costumes together. He’d been with you for hundreds of hours too little that morning, and he wants to know where you are.

He asks his older brother Natsuo where you are by showing him the little sticky note that he’d written the question on and shown to every nurse, doctor, teacher, and friend that came in to see him. His throat had been burned to hell, and he wished more than anything to get up and ask every damned person in the hospital where you were.

He’s supposed to be talking about Touya - he’s not Touya anymore, he has to remind to himself, that man is Dabi, not Touya - and all he can think about is you.

Shoto has to remind himself that he can’t cry. Because right now, the people around him need him to be strong, and that includes you, where ever you are. He hopes you can feel him wavering, desperately wishes for you to show up.

It’s on his sixth night in the hospital that somebody finally tells him where you are. It’s Bakugo, surprisingly enough.

“Hey, IcyHot,” Bakugo greets, and Shoto uses text-to-speech to ask him if he should even be walking. The blonde is covered in just as many bandages as Shoto, and when Aizawa had come by on his third day in the hospital, Shoto had been told all about everybody’s condition except yours.

“Yeah, i’m fine,” Bakugo says, easing himself into hard plastic chair next to Shoto’s hospital bed, “Y/N’s not though.”

Shoto croaks out a pathetic noise, but Bakugo doesn’t need prompting.

“All the other damn extras said not to say anything to you,” Bakugo continues, and for the first time ever, the cocky blonde is visibly nervous, worried, even, “Y/N’s in the ICU. They haven’t stabilized since they got in. Nobody’s told me what happened to them, but apparently Dunce Face was one of the last people to see her before she was brought here. He... He thought that Y/N was already dead when he last saw them. They’re in a medically induced coma, according to Mr.Aizawa.”

Shoto sits there, in silence except for the quiet humming of the AC unit, for thirty minutes. Bakugo sits with him, just as quiet.

“Where are they now?” Shoto’s phone asks, the words choppy and abrupt, and Bakugo looks pained when he tells him your room number. Neither of them do anything for a while after that, and Bakugo sits in the hard plastic chair that’d begun to make his butt sore until Shoto falls asleep with a million things on the tip of his tongue.

Shoto is released from the hospital four days later, extensive healing and pain meds made sure of that, and nobody had been allowed to see you yet. He’d asked around, and eventually he learned that you’d undergone six different procedures since you’d arrived.

Tonight would be your seventh.

x x x

It’s hot. Very hot.

The flames are blue, and a few of them lick at you, but they don’t burn. There’s a battle cry from both sides, and you watch as villains pour from the Gunga Mountain Villa. It takes five minutes, and war has broken out all around you.

You’re fighting too, better suited for close combat, and you’re watching your classmates, your friends being battered around, fighting in a war that they shouldn’t be fighting.

You’re the first to make inside the building, and you’re vaguely aware that you’re bleeding. Fatgum tells you to retreat, telling you that you look on the verge of death. You tell him you’re fine.

You’re not fine. The building is rumbling, and the ceiling’s begun to cave in, it’s hard to breathe, and you can’t see through the blood that’s caked over your left eye.

The pillars fall in seven seconds, and you fall too.

You call for him, for Shoto, in the last three seconds of your consciousness, you call for him.

It’s dark.

x x x

When you wake up, really wake up and open your eyes to look right into the harsh white fluorescent lights of your hospital room, nobody’s there with you. There’s a vase of dying roses on the windowsill, and you can already tell from the crisp handwriting on the brown tag that Shoto had been the one to leave them. And it’s cold, but you prefer that to the blazing heat you’d felt when you’d fallen asleep.

Where is Sho anyway?

Your heart monitor steadily beeps away, and when a nurse comes in to check your vitals she’s surprised to see you’re awake. And even more surprised when the first thing you ask for is Shoto.

“Sho,” You say, and your voice is dry and raw and barely a whisper, “Where’s Sho?”

The nurse stares at you wide-eyes for a moment, before she gets you a little dixie cup of water.

“Who’s Sho?” She asks, and you struggle to swallow the little cup of water she’d given you.

“Shoto Todoroki,” You say, “Is he here?”

The nurse purses her lips, and looks at you sadly, and you wonder what she’s thinking about before she tells you that she’ll be right back with the doctor. She leaves three more dixie cups of water on your foldaway table before leaving.

You sit there for almost an hour before the door opens again, and it’s a horrible hour because every time you close your eyes all you can see is the bloody battle that should have killed you.

The doctor comes in first, and right behind him is the person you’d been thinking about since you’d woken up. You’d been with him all that morning before the war, and all that night. And you were with him now.

The doctor tells you what day it is, and you start crying when he tells you it’s been almost a month since you’d first been admitted to the hospital.

“Fuck,” You whimper, voice crackling and breaking as you reach out for Shoto, and he’s there - he always is - and his hand feels so good in yours - it always does - and you start crying even harder when you see the tears in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Sho. You look so tired.”

“I love you,” And he says it like there will never be another chance to say it, and once the first ‘I love you’ leaves his mouth fifty more follow. And the doctor looks you over as best he can, before telling you that you’re cleared for visitors and that you’d be able to leave within the week.

And as Shoto begins to cry he has to remind himself that he is supposed to be a hero prodigy. That he’s supposed to stand tall and strong, and keep his father's hero legacy alive. But you hold onto his fingers so tightly, and for once, you’re asking if you can come over because you’ve just had a nightmare. It’s a shared nightmare, Shoto tells you, shared by millions.

Two days later you’re allowed to go back home, back to the dorms, and Shoto has to help you get dressed because you can barely breathe standing up let alone walk without your legs collapsing. Shoto kisses your tears away when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You’re covered in scars, and there are still stitches in places where the wounds were slower to heal.

Your whole world fell apart in seven hours that day, and it continued to fall apart after that. Shoto’s there for you the whole way back to UA, and he tells you that your school, your second home, had become a home to thousands of others too. Shoto had given his dorm away and he’d been staying at his family home while you’d been in the hospital.

But your dorm is still there. And nothing’s changed at all.

“I’ve also been staying here too,” Shoto tells you when he helps you into bed, “I hope you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all, Sho,” You tell him - you never do mind - and he crawls into bed next to you, minding your right knee with it’s poky little stitches and the new metal patella that replaced the kneecap you’d shattered during the war.

Japan fell apart in four days, Shoto tells you, and you can’t find it in you to care, because the world is too big and too wide but Shoto makes it feel smaller.

It was dark, when the pillars fell. And the two of you are blind, lost in it, and you’d never been so afraid of being lost.

“I don’t think I can go back to hero work,” You tell him early the next morning, as he gets dressed to go back to his family home, “Not for a long time.”

“That’s okay, my love,” He replies, he won’t tell you, but he’s not sure he wants you to go back, “Do you want to come home with me?”

He doesn’t need to ask, because he would have taken you with him anyway.

“Yeah,” You tell him, and you struggle to push yourself up into a sitting position, “Just... Will you promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“Promise me you won’t die.”

It’s stupid thing to ask for, you know it is. Because everybody dies eventually, but you don’t know what you’d do if you lost him. The two of you are lost, but at least you’re together.

Shoto doesn’t need to question it, because he’d thought you were dead for almost a whole week. And he doesn’t ever want to be without you, even though he knows he’ll have to.

“I promise you, Y/N, I won’t ever leave you, and I won’t die.”

It’s dark, Shoto thinks, as he helps you into the back of his father’s car, But it’s much less dark with you.

490 notes · View notes

ragingbookdragon · 4 years ago

Text

Black Jeans & Daphne Blue Still Make Me Think Of You

Jason Todd x M!Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 2.4K Warnings: Mentions of Torture and Death, Explicit Language

Author's Note: Daphne Blue by The Band CAMINO has been my new favorite song. Enjoy! -Thorne

He knelt in front of the guy he had tied to the chair. Poor bastard. He thought. Always gotta make things so difficult. Reaching up, he slapped him across the face a couple times.

“Oi, wakey, wakey.” The guy startled awake, immediately whimpering behind the gag. “Oh, good morning sleeping beauty. Have a nice nap?” The guy groaned and he chuckled, yanking down the strip of fabric. “Sorry, what was that?”

“I don’t know anything, Sentinel, I swear to God.”

Sentinel eyed him behind the mask. “You really wanna do this whole dance all over again?” he poked at one of the guy’s broken fingers. “You don’t have any more fingers to break. The next option is your toes.” He started to pull of the guy’s shoes.

“Wait! Wait!” he cried, trying to yank away. “Please don’t!”

“Tell me what I wanna know and your piggies can still go to the market,” he lazily retorted, letting go of his foot.

“But he’ll kill me!” he cried.

Sentinel stared at him. “I’m still wondering what makes you think I’m not gonna kill you too.” he deadpanned, pulling out a silver dagger.

The blade itself was fairly simply, not engraved or marked with extensive decorations of gold or ivory. No, frivolous things such as that were only meant for special and expensive weapons. This dagger had been created by someone with a decent amount of money. Meant to withstand against weathering and usage—it merely served a purpose.

“Look, I’ll make you a deal. You tell me where I can find Two-Face and I’ll kill you quickly. That’ll certainly save you a lot of pain and fear from having your boss dump you in a pool of acid,” he reasoned.

The thug choked on a sob and let his head loll back. “Alright! I’ll talk!”

“Wonderful,” Sentinel smiled. “Where’s Two-Face hiding out.”

“The old courthouse in Arkham City. It’s in the center of the city, you can’t miss it.”

“How many thugs does he have with him at all times?”

The guy’s face pinched. “I don’t know, he’s got a personal guard and the normal group too.”

“No shit,” Sentinel griped. “Numbers, jackass.”

“No more than ten for his personal, but he’s got about thirty normal.”

“Weapons?”

“Anything you can think of,” the thug answered. “Guns, knives, lead pipes, everything.”

Sentinel leaned back on his haunches, thinking for a moment. “Who’s Two-Face allied with at the moment?”

“I—” The guy’s mouth opened, then he snapped it shut.

“Oh, come on, do you need me to cut off a finger?”

“No, it’s—it’s just…”

“Just what?” Sentinel demanded.

“There was supposed to be a meeting tonight about discussing new gang territories,” the thug answered.

He paused and glared at him. “Why didn’t you say that in the first place?”

“You wanted to know about Two-Face only?”

“Where’s the meeting?”

“Penguin’s Iceberg Lounge.”

“Thanks.” Sentinel quipped and thrust the knife into the thug’s throat. His gasp turned into a gurgle as crimson poured down his neck and into his shirt before he ultimately slumped forward. He yanked the dagger out and wiped it on the guy’s pants before sheathing it and standing.

“Lovely,” he grunted. “Now I have to change plans.”

“You know,” someone said from above him. “Batman’s not going to be very happy about you coming into town and killing his punching bags.”

Sentinel whirled around and looked up, catching sight of a familiar Red Hood sitting rather comfortably on a metal beam, his head tipped in a cocky fashion.

He pressed a hand to his chest and dramatized, “Oh no, it’s the Red Hood!” He shut his eyes and groaned, “I admit it, I killed him. And I’ll consent to a full body search at your perusal, Red Hood.” When he didn’t hear a reply, he cracked an eye open and huffed, “You’re no fun, Nightwing usually plays along.”

Red Hood shifted and dropped to the ground, landing with a heavy thud. “What are you doing back in Gotham, Sentinel?”

“Are you asking me because you’re curious or because Batman told you?”

“I’m doing my job.”

“So, it’s because Batman told you.” he chuckled. “Since when did you become Batman’s errand boy? I thought you didn’t like him.”

“Just answer the question,” Red Hood sighed.

“Fine, fine,” Sentinel relented as he waved a hand. “Two-Face and I had a deal and he backed out of it, so now I’m trying to find him.”

The vigilante crossed his arms over his chest. “What was the deal?”

“Oh, you know, tamper with a few legal proceedings. The usual.”

“And what were you supposed to get in return?”

Sentinel scowled. “An obscene amount of money that he failed to deliver.” He started off towards the doors. “And I plan on getting what I’m owed.”

He could hear Red Hood following him. “Where are you going?”

“Our dearly deceased friend said Two-Face was attending a meeting at the Iceberg Lounge.” He cast a glance over his shoulder. “If they’re discussing territory, I need to do reconnaissance in order to learn where Two-Face is gonna set back up.”

“Want some help?” Sentinel paused and turned back around, practically coming chest to chest with the much taller vigilante.

“What kind of help?” he questioned, testing the waters by toying with the zipper on Red Hood’s jacket. When the vigilante didn’t move, he tugged a little. “Your skill? Or another kindof help?”

“I’m willing to part with both,” Red Hood murmured, reaching up to hold Sentinel’s wrist. “So long as you promise not to kill Two-Face.”

He chuckled and pulled his arm away, turning to leave. “And on that note, I’ll do this on my own.”

“You’re gonna show up to the Iceberg Lounge like that?”

Sentinel turned around as he opened the door. “Of course not.” He winked. “I’m gonna go undercover.” And he was gone.

***

He smoothed the front of his black leather jacket and blue shirt as he stepped into the chilly nightclub; he was glad he actually decided to go with something warm. Lazily scanning the room, he caught sight of the full tables as well as the upper level where people were sitting and smoking expensive cigars. One particular set of doors caught his eye and upon closer inspection, he saw two armed guards standing outside, one wearing Penguin’s gang colors, the other wearing Two-Face’s.

Bingo. He thought and in order to not raise suspicion, he made his way around one of the pillars that gave him the ability to hide, but also to see the double doors as well. One of the thugs had a walkie-talkie on him and he hummed, pulling out a small device from his pocket. He played with it for a moment and when the static cleared, he grinned and raised it to his mouth.

“Aye, you still outside the office?” he asked, watching as Two-Face’s thug grabbed the radio on his thigh.

“Yeah, boss is still in there with Penguin.” He glanced at the other gang member. “Why?”

“Somebody said they saw Batman poking around the area. Go check it out.”

“But we got orders to stay put.”

He frowned. “Orders ain’t gonna mean shit if Batman gets in there and throws the boss back in GCPD, shithead. Get crackin’.”

The two thugs looked at one another then to the door before shrugging and splitting up and leaving the doors wide open. He turned his back and waited for the guard to pass him before he slipped back and walked up to the doors. Quickly, he pressed his ear to it and listened, hearing someone that sounded like Penguin talking on the inside. He smiled and slipped a small device, no bigger than a thumbtack inside the keyhole, pressing it as he pulled his hand away.

“Hey!” someone shouted behind him. He spun and was met with the two thugs, both with angry and suspicious looks on their faces. “What are you doing here?”

He smiled. “I was looking for the restroom.”

“That ain’t it pal,” Penguin’s thug said.

“Right, sorry,” he excused, feigning an apologetic tone. “If you can point me in the direction, I’ll be out of your hair, promise.”

Two-Face’s thug tipped his head to the opposite side of the room. “Back that way.” He took a step forward and thrust the rifle into his face. “Don’t come back around here.”

He nodded resolutely. “You got it, sir.” He quickly fled before they changed their minds and disappeared into the crowd. When he was sure they no longer had eyes on him, he took a seat at the bar and pulled out an earpiece, discreetly slipping it in; he clicked the button on the outside of the piece and the conversation from inside the door flooded his ear.

“Word is that Sentinel is in town, Two-Face. You wouldn’t have anything to do with that now, would you?”

“What? Afraid that he’ll visit you?”

“Hardly. But the rumor mill says that he’s looking for you. Don’t tell me you pulled out on a deal?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I didn’t do—

“Is this seat taken?”

The low drawl made him jump slightly and he looked to the side, seeing a man smirking down at him. His eyes momentarily darted to the door before going back to the man’s face.

“Uh, no,” he replied. “It’s open.”

He hummed and sat down. “Thanks. Can I get you a drink?”

He inconspicuously slipped the earpiece from his ear and dropped it into his pocket. “I don’t know. What’s going to impress you? Something fruity? Or something…hard?” he flirted, propping his chin on his palm.

The stranger chuckled. “How about both?”

Grinning, he looked at the bartender. “Sex In The Driveway, please. For both of us.” The server turned and started making their drinks, and he shifted his attention back to the man beside him. “Got a name, handsome?”

“Jason. What’s yours?”

“(Y/N),” he replied, taking a moment to ogle the man. And boy was he pretty. Sharp jawline, killer set of teal eyes, midnight black hair, and oddly enough, a white streak. He had to be ripped under that red shirt and leather jacket he wore, and (Y/N) really wanted to find out. Their drinks were set in front of them, and he reached over, taking a sip of his.

“What brings you to this dingy nightclub? Don’t tell me it’s the scenery.”

Jason grinned. “I don’t know, the scenery right now is pretty nice.” He took the straw into his mouth and sipped, then set the drink down. “Wanted to see if there was anyone I could take home for the night.”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh. “Well, aren’t you just upfront about what you want.” He winked. “I like that in a man.” Twirling the straw with his finger, he asked, “You work in Gotham?”

He shrugged. “Mostly, but my job takes me where the money is.” Jason looked at him. “I bet you know what that’s like.”

“As a matter of fact, I do. I’m originally from Central City.”

“What’s someone from a safe place like Central doing here in Gotham?”

He hummed and turned in his seat so that he was facing Jason. “Just visiting a friend.”

“A boyfriend?” Jason wondered and (Y/N) snorted.

“Nope. No boyfriend for me.” He eyed him. “Yet…what about you? Have anybody waiting at home?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t be here.”

“You’re loyal? Isn’t that a charming quality.”

“What can I say? I’m a charming guy to be around.”

(Y/N) drug his foot up the side of Jason’s calf. “Charming indeed.”

Jason’s mouth opened, but (Y/N)’s attention was drawn away by the doors in the back opening, and Two-Face stepping out, followed by Penguin. His mood soured and evidently it showed on his face because he heard,

“Are you okay?” He directed his attention back to Jason who was looking at him with a cocked brow.

“Yeah,” he answered, then pulled his foot away and stood up. “But it’s getting late, and I have to get going.”

“Going back to see your friend?”

(Y/N) laughed. “Something like that.” He paused and gazed at Jason, then asked, “Gotta pen?”

He dug around in his pocket then pulled out a black sharpie and handed it over. “Here.” (Y/N) took Jason’s hand in his own and quickly wrote a set of numbers on the back.

Jason looked at it. “This your cell?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, it’s the number to my favorite Chinese joint down the street.” Grinning, he leaned over and planted a kiss on Jason’s cheek, murmuring, “I’ll be in town another couple days. Gimme a call sometime if you’d like to hangout.”

As he pulled away, he caught those teal eyes narrowed in amusement. “I definitely will, (Y/N).”

When he stepped through the exit, he sighed, knowing that he was going to have to spend hours going over the conversation in order to get a plan figured out. But hey, at least I scored a date. He thought with a grin.

***

“Have fun in lockup, Dent!” He called from the ledge as he watched the gang leader get loaded into the squad car. As they drove off, he checked his phone and smiled as the transactions followed through.

“Another night, another million,” he quipped and just as he was putting his phone away, it pinged. He looked back at it, eyes widening as he read,

So that’s what Sentinel looks like out of uniform? Black jeans and Daphne Blue? I hope you know I’m never not going to think of you when I see that combo now 😊.

(Y/N) froze and stared at his screen, millions of thoughts scrambling around his mind until he settled on, Who is this?

The little birdy you met in the lounge the other night.

He blinked and typed, Jason?

That’d be the little birdy.

How do you know who I am?

On your left, Sentinel.

He immediately looked up and his jaw went slack at the sight of Red Hood standing there, phone in his hand.

“You’re shitting me,” (Y/N) blurted out. His phone pinged.

Told you I was gonna call you.

Red Hood—Jason stowed his phone and walked up to him. “Wanna go get that Chinese you mentioned?”

(Y/N) gaped at him, then he let out a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, why not? I could eat.”

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader imagines #jason todd x reader imagine #jason todd imagine #jason todd imagines #jason todd x reader oneshot #jason todd x reader one shot #jason todd oneshot #jason todd one shot #red hood x reader #red hood x reader imagines #red hood x reader imagine #red hood imagine #red hood imagines #dc comics #dc imagines #dc imagine #jason todd #red hood

95 notes · View notes

nicknellie · 4 years ago

Text

For months I’ve been saying I’d write a fic where Alex starts counselling because this fandom is in desperate need of good therapy representation, and I’ve finally got around to it! This follows Alex deciding he wants to get therapy, having his first assessment, and having his first session. Most of it is pulled from my experiences so far, but bare in mind that not all therapists/organisations will function the way this one does. Also I’m very tired and I didn’t proofread so I’m sorry for any errors, I’ll fix them at another point.

TW: anxiety, therapy, mentions of depression, mentions of homophobia, mentions of OCD

The Right Decision

It was another one of those days where Alex felt exhausted from the moment he woke up. Not exhausted in that he needed to sleep longer (although admittedly that was probably a part of it), just exhausted because here was another day he had to get through, another challenge he had to overcome, another stressful sixteen hours of endless worries and things to do. Sometimes Alex felt like there was no escape, no rest, no pause in his life. He had to keep going no matter how drained he felt.

It was exhausting.

Everything felt like too much nowadays. Between going to school and sitting exams, playing with the band, and keeping up with his friends, Alex felt as if he had no time to breathe. He couldn’t slow down for longer than a moment or two before along came the next thing and the next barrage of anxieties that accompanied it. He couldn’t catch his breath, he couldn’t keep up, and it was dragging him down.

What he couldn’t understand was how nobody else seemed to feel quite as worried as him. He had always been more anxious than his friends, that was nothing new – but when everyone he knew had mostly the same stresses as him, it struck him as impossible that none of them seemed too overwhelmed. Perhaps every now and then Luke would complain about an exam at school or Reggie would mention that he was having trouble sleeping, but none of Alex’s friends ever mentioned weak legs, trouble breathing, clouded thoughts, needless panic that stemmed from nowhere, the feeling that nothing they did was really worth much at all.

Recently, Alex’s days had been muddled, his mind occupied with each new worry that he thought up. He was finding it hard to focus on much at all. He’d find his leg bouncing whenever he sat down or his fingers scratching at his knees, little repetitive movements that he wouldn’t notice until somebody pointed them out. He struggled sleeping at night, his mind racing at the speed of light, every nonsensical thought keeping him awake like the world’s most pessimistic firework display. When he was around his friends, his mind snagged on what they thought about him – he began acting the way he thought they wanted him to rather than the way he normally would have.

It felt like he was constantly pretending to be coping better than he was. If he carried on the way he was, he knew sooner or later he would break.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said that morning, sat on the opposite side of the sofa to Willie. He had stayed the night at Willie’s place, vastly preferring it to his own – his strained relationship with his parents wasn’t exactly doing him a world of good either.

“About what?” Willie asked, kicking their feet up onto the sofa and resting them in Alex’s lap.

The question was strangely hard to answer. Where was he even supposed to begin answering it?

“About me,” he ventured slowly. It seemed like a good start, he just wasn’t sure how to carry on.

“I think about you a lot too,” Willie said, beaming. “It’s one of my favourite pastimes.”

Normally, Alex might have blushed, but he was so caught up in his own head that the flirtatious nature of Willie’s comment flew right over his head.

Willie sat up, looking concerned. He took Alex’s hand in his own, dragging Alex down from his addled thoughts. “What’s going on, hotdog? What have you been thinking?”

“I’ve not been finding things easy recently,” Alex began. He hadn’t expected tears to fill his eyes so soon, and yet there they were. His voice wavered, his words interspersed with sniffles. Frustrated, he sighed and wiped roughly at his eyes with his sleeve, annoyed that this was all getting to him so easily. “I… I can’t explain it.”

Willie reached up and gently pulled Alex’s tight fists away from his eyes and instead wiped Alex’s tears away softly with his thumb. “Take your time,” they said. “It’s alright. I’m listening.”

“I just… I feel so nervous. All the time. About every little thing. And it feels like it’s getting worse. I don’t feel like myself anymore.”

One of the things Alex loved most about Willie was that he was never pushy. He always let Alex talk as and when he needed to, getting everything off his chest the way he wanted, even if it took hours. They did it now, just holding Alex’s hand, their eyes fixed on him attentively. From someone else, the unbroken eye contact might have just unnerved Alex even more, but from Willie it felt reassuring. He knew he was being listened to and heard – he knew he was safe.

“I want to get help,” he breathed. “I don’t want to carry on the way I am. It scares me.”

“If you want to get help, then that’s exactly what we’ll do,” Willie told him, threading their fingers together. “And Alex – it might not feel like it, but you’re so brave for telling me that. It can’t have been easy, but I’m proud of you for telling me instead of just struggling through by yourself.”

“Do you think it’s a good idea?” Alex asked apprehensively. Willie was always supportive of him, but it was such a drastic change from the way his parents treated him that sometimes he couldn’t help but check it was all real.

Willie smiled gently and cupped Alex’s cheek with his hand. His eyes fluttered shut and he leaned into the touch, so he couldn’t see Willie when they replied but he could hear the honestly in his voice. “I think it’ll be really helpful for you. And if it’s what you think you need then it’s worth trying no matter what.”

“Thank you,” Alex whispered, barely audible, throat clogged with suppressed sobs.

“Anything, Alex.”

The two of them spent hours researching different therapists and counsellors. Willie carried out extensive background checks on every one of them – at first Alex thought that maybe it was a bit much, but Willie was adamant that only the best would do, that he didn’t want anyone with a chequered past or a dodgy record.

Eventually they came across a charity that offered free counselling. The sessions would take place at the same time on the same day each week and they could go on for as long as Alex needed. He would be assigned the counsellor deemed most fit to treat him after completing an assessment, and the organisation appeared to have very good reviews and success rates.

“We don’t have to sign you up today,” Willie explained, “not if you think it’ll be too much too soon. But it’s worth keeping in mind that this place is probably a good one to go for.”

Alex thought for a moment before making his mind up. He knew himself – if he kept putting it off because he was nervous about it then he would never get around to doing it at all.

“Let’s do it now,” he said resolutely, trying to sound confident in the hopes that maybe he’d believe he wasn’t so nervous himself. “Get it out of the way. It’s now or never, right?”

Willie just kissed the top of his head and clicked the application button at the bottom of the webpage.

A week or so later, Alex received an email informing him of when his assessment would take place. It seemed like a very informal thing – someone from the charity would phone him, they’d have a casual chat where they would ask him about himself, and they’d offer him either a space on their waiting list or suggest somewhere else that might be able to help him better.

Despite how friendly and casual it all sounded, Alex couldn’t help but feel nervous. For one thing, he hated talking to strangers. He’d never been good at it and the whole idea made him feel sick with worry. Though, he supposed, that was why he was going through with this whole thing, to make that worry stop.

But the other issue was that it was a phone appointment. Inexplicably, one of the things guaranteed to cause Alex anxiety was phone calls. The thought of picking up the phone when somebody rang was enough to make his head spin and eyes water. Just the notion of it made him want to lock himself away in a lonely dark room and not come out until he felt he could breathe again. It was painfully ironic – he had to do the things that made him most anxious in order to get help with his anxiety.

When the time of the appointment came, Alex was sat on Willie’s bed by himself, staring at his phone, waiting for it to ring. Willie had kindly offered to be in the room with him, but Alex had declined. Even though Willie was the most supportive person in his life, having them in the room while he had his assessment would have made it a thousand times more difficult.

The phone rang and for a moment Alex considered just not picking up. Was it worth making himself even more worried over this? Maybe he could learn to cope with his anxiety alone instead of getting all worked up over receiving help. He’d managed just fine in the past.

But you’re not managing just fine right now, Alex, he reminded himself. Pick up the phone.

“Hello?” he said, forcing himself to keep his voice level.

“Hi,” came a voice on the other end. It was an airy, soft-spoken lady, and though Alex couldn’t see her he could imagine her sat in her office, surrounded by motivational posters and dreamcatchers, wearing far too many scarves. “My name is Elizabeth. I’m calling for your mental health assessment. I just need to confirm who I’m speaking to.”

“Alex Mercer,” he said, glad he could answer that first question right at the very least. And sure, maybe the other questions he would be asked didn’t have specific right or wrong answers, but he still felt as if he had something to prove with them. Here at least he knew what he was doing.

“And your age and date of birth please, Alex,” Elizabeth asked. He could hear the faint scratching of a pen on paper.

“I’m eighteen and my birthday is the first of August.”

A tiny voice in the back of his mind questioned him, but he pushed it away. He wasn’t going to overthink so quickly. He knew what his own birthday was.

“Great, thank you, Alex,” Elizabeth said. “So I’m just going to talk you through how this will work quickly, okay? I’ll try not to take too long with the whole assessment, I know sometimes talking on the phone or talking to strangers can be tricky. All that’s really going to happen is that we’ll have a little chat, I’ll ask you about your life and your mental health. Everything we say will be confidential, the only other person who’ll find out is the person we assign as your counsellor. All I need you to do is be as honest as possible when you answer the questions. Is that all okay?”

“Yeah,” Alex said. His throat felt tight with worry but he did his best to ignore it. Elizabeth sounded like a lovely lady and the whole point of this was that he would stop being anxious, or at least learn to manage it better. Maybe this bit was hard, but it would only get easier as time went on. “That’s alright.”

“Fantastic,” she said. “Okay, Alex, we’ll start with the most obvious question: why do you want to come to us for counselling?”

He told her what he had told Willie, just with fewer tears. He could feel them stinging the backs of his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. His voice stayed level but only because he forced it too.

From then on, it seemed like fairly quickfire questions. Elizabeth didn’t linger on any one aspect of Alex’s life so long that it made Alex uncomfortable, as if she was just sizing him up rather than trying to properly inspect him.

“Who do you live with, Alex?”

“My parents and my little sister, but I don’t spend a lot of time at home.”

“Do you not get on with them?” she asked. Her tone made her sound curious rather than concerned and somehow that was a lot easier for Alex to respond to. She just wanted to know – she wasn’t worried about it.

“My little sister’s fine, but not my parents.”

“Where do you stay instead?”

“My boyfriend’s apartment.”

Pen scratching on paper again.

“How’s your relationship with your boyfriend?” Elizabeth asked.

It was one of the only questions Alex felt confident answering. “My relationship with Willie is the best thing in my life.”

He thought he could hear Elizabeth’s smile as she said, “I’m very glad to hear that, Alex.”

She asked him about his friendships and he told her that they were strong. When she asked who his best friend was he momentarily panicked because he didn’t know which of his friends to choose – they all meant the world to him in different ways – but settled on Carrie. He explained that he was in a band with most of his other friends and that it was one of the only things that made him feel relaxed.

Elizabeth asked about school and Alex told her about his exams, how the stress of them definitely wasn’t doing his mind any good. She asked about his grades and he told her that they were high but he worried about keeping them that way. She asked him if he was part of any clubs or teams and he said he was on the cross-country team but didn’t find much enjoyment in it anymore.

It was odd, he thought absently. As he spoke to Elizabeth, he not only found himself being open and honest with her but also with himself. Half the things he told her were things he hadn’t thought about until she brought them up, and realising that he worried about grades more than he’d thought and that he didn’t want to be on the running team was more of a surprise to him that it should have been. He noticed more and more things about himself as he went on, things he probably never would have realised otherwise, and it sparked a little flame of hope inside him that maybe this counselling was already being beneficial to him.

The assessment was over much more quickly than Alex had thought it would take. Elizabeth told him that she was happy to put him on the waiting list and that she would be in touch when a counsellor became available. After a friendly goodbye, Alex put the phone down and took a few minutes to collect himself before heading out into the living room of Willie’s apartment to tell him how well it had gone.

It was a month or two before Alex heard from the charity again. He got another email, this one telling him the time and location of his first appointment. He showed up on the day, Willie by his side, feeling the worst he’d felt in weeks.

“Hey,” Willie said gently as Alex just stared at the door, his stomach flipping at the thought of even pressing the intercom. “Just remember you’re doing this to help yourself. I believe in you, hotdog. You’ve got this.”

Alex pulled Willie into a brief hug, but disentangled himself quickly and pressed the intercom before his adrenaline disappeared and he had another chance to dwell on it.

“Hello,” came the voice of the receptionist inside. “How can I help?”

“My name is Alex Mercer, I’m here for my counselling session,” he said. He wasn’t sure how much of his sentence actually sounded like words, the entire thing having been rushed out on one breath, but the receptionist seemed to get it. The lock on the door clicked open.

“Come on in, you can sit in the waiting room and your counsellor will come and get you soon.”

Alex took a deep breath and pushed the door open, Willie following close behind him as the two of them walked into the building. The waiting room was on the left as soon as they walked in so they took their seats beside each other. There was hardly anyone else in there – the receptionist was sat behind the desk in the corner, there was a lady flicking through a magazine on the other side of the waiting room, and a young man was sat with a toddler, trying to keep the little boy still when clearly all he wanted to do was run around. The walls were covered in posters, most of them either with motivation quotes on them or symptoms of different mental health issues. Alex had to tear his eyes away from the anxiety one, his hands rubbing together in his lap restlessly.

They weren’t sat there for very long when a kind-looking man poked his head into the waiting room and scanned it. When his eyes landed on Alex and Willie, a small smile grew on his face.

“Alex Mercer?” he asked.

Alex stood up and wiped his sweaty hands down on his trousers. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Nice to meet you, Alex,” the man said. “I’m Graham, I’ll be your counsellor. Is this your boyfriend?”

“Yeah, this is Willie,” Alex said, gesturing vaguely in his direction.

“Hi,” they said, “great to meet you.”

“You too,” Graham said. “Alex, Willie can come in with you for a little bit if you think that would make you more comfortable, or he could stay here in the waiting room and it’ll just be you and I in there. Whatever you prefer.”

Alex cast a glance at Willie who just gave him a reassuring smile. Your call, their expression said, I’m here for you no matter what.

“I’d rather go in alone,” Alex decided.

Graham nodded, smiling genially. “That’s alright. If you’d like to follow me then.”

Sending one last look to Willie (who gave Alex a thumbs up and mouthed ‘you got this’), Alex followed Graham out of the waiting room, up a flight of stairs, and into a smaller room on the second floor. There was hardly anything in there but a desk with a laptop on it and two chairs positioned opposite each other, a coffee table between them with a lamp and a box of tissues on it. Graham sat down in one chair and gestured for Alex to sit in the other.

“Alright, Alex,” Graham said, donning his glasses and picking up a pen and paper. “How are you feeling about being here today?”

“I’m a little nervous,” Alex told him. “But you know… it’s something I’ve got to do, right?”

Graham nodded. “Looking at your assessment, I think you made the right decision in coming to us. I just want to briefly explain what will be happening in these sessions – I’m going to be doing CBT. Do you know what that is?”

Alex shook his head.

“CBT stands for Cognitive Behavioural Therapy,” Graham explained. “As people, we have thoughts. Those thoughts influence our mood, which then influences our behaviour, which influences our thoughts. It’s a cycle. When our thoughts or our behaviours turn negative, it can lead to mental health problems like yours. What CBT aims to do is change the thought processes and behaviours that lead to things like your anxiety. With me so far?”

Alex nodded.

“We aren’t going to start that today,” Graham said. Alex breathed a sigh of relief and Graham chuckled at it, but not in a way that made Alex feel like he was being made fun of. “Today we’re just going to get to know each other a bit, we’ll go over the information I’ve got from your assessment in a little more detail, and then I’ve got a questionnaire for you to fill out. Sound good?”

“Good,” Alex said. Well, he supposed, getting one word out was better than none at all.

Graham pulled out a few sheets of paper and the two of them spent the next half hour or so going over the assessment Elizabeth had conducted. It was a lot more detailed, a lot more personal, and Alex needed to think about himself a lot more than he would have liked, but it was made easier by Graham’s easy-going personality and the fact that Alex’s knew it was all necessary. He wasn’t being judged for any of it, he was just helping Graham help him.

It just felt like a chat with a friend. When they talked about Alex’s parents and he explained they weren’t supporting of his sexuality, Graham said, “When I told my folks that I’m bisexual they had a similar reaction. I understand it – you’re not alone, Alex.”

And as he said that, Alex really felt it was true. He was understood here. He wasn’t alone.

They talked about Alex’s trouble sleeping, how he worried about the little things rather than anything really important, how he was a picky eater, and every detail that seemed insignificant but clearly meant something to Graham. It felt a little invasive, but the environment was comfortable, so Alex didn’t really mind sharing. It was ridiculously easy to say everything on his mind and so much more freeing than keeping his emotions bottled up like normal.

“Alright then,” Graham said eventually. “All I’ve got left is this questionnaire. It’ll take you through forty-seven questions and all of the answers give you a choice between always, often, sometimes, or never. Sometimes it’s quite obvious what the question is getting at – there’s one about repetitive routines that’s obviously about OCD – but I want you to answer as honestly as possible, don’t even think about what it might do to your results. Alright?”

“Yeah,” Alex said, “that’s fine.”

Graham led Alex through the questionnaire, selecting the answers on his laptop. Alex tried to answer quickly, not giving himself time to overthink it, but a few of the simplest ones stumped him. He’d never thought about how much he thought about death, he’d never paid any mind to his specific behaviours. But still, he answered as best he could and the questions were over relatively quickly.

“Looking at your results,” Graham said, pushing his glasses further up his nose and squinting at the laptop screen, “you answered most highly for general anxiety – you got twenty-nine for that. Then social anxiety, you got twenty. Depression and low mood, you got sixteen. For panic disorder you got fourteen, eleven for OCD, and five for separation anxiety. Does any of that surprise you?”

“Not in the slightest,” Alex told him, laughing at himself a little. It was exactly what he would have expected from himself – he wasn’t quite sure what the numbers really meant, but having general anxiety at the top wasn’t a shock to him.

“So what we’ll do each week from now on is fill out a smaller one of those, but it will be more focused on general anxiety, only eight or nine questions long. And we’ll start your CBT next week so these little questionnaires will be very helpful to track your progress. But that’s it for this week! You’re done, Alex, you made it!”

Alex felt himself smile. He’d done it. It hadn’t been nearly as difficult as he had thought it would be – it felt like there had been a weight lifted from his shoulders and he could breathe easily. His mind briefly wandered back to how anxious he’d been to even press the intercom outside; now he felt the lightest he’d been in as long as he could remember.

He and Graham said their goodbyes and Alex made his way back down to the waiting room to see get Willie. When he saw the bright smile Alex wore, Willie’s face lit up and he beamed.

“How was that?” they asked, immediately slipping his hand into Alex’s.

“Really good,” Alex told them. Willie’s face softened – there was a definite look of pride in their eyes and Alex knew it was for him. “I’m glad I’m doing this.”

Standing up on his tiptoes, Willie pressed a featherlight kiss to Alex’s cheek. “I’m glad. I’m proud of you, hotdog.”

“I’m proud of me too,” Alex said. For the first time in a very long while, he actually meant it.

Taglist (if you want to be added or removed just let me know): @ace-bookworm @williexmercer @boggie-brainrot @itstiger720 @the-reckless-and-the-brave @that-one-newsie @bluedarkness @lookingthroughmirrors @tmp-jatp @salty-star @julieandthequeers @lmaohuh @sunnysbright @sylphrenas @callmeontheleyline

55 notes · View notes

tundrainafrica · 4 years ago

Text

Title: Lovebug (3/10)

Summary:

“It might be a bug.”

“A bug?”

“Sometimes the developers of this application make mistakes. This is our first time meeting I’m sure so…Isn’t it a bit weird that we just met for the first time and it rings like this? And for two strangers to coincidentally ring each other’s alarms?“

Levi is the developer of the Love Alarm App and Hange is married to Zeke.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Other Chapters: 1 2 4 5

Notes: So I was really planning on my posting the next chapter tonight and wahhhh right on time @renrampant posted this beautiful piece of art inspired by lovebug. I hope this chapter satisfies <3. I hope the zekehan kiss which will be coming in a chapter or two does justice to the art too.

Levi was a man of his word and he always had been. The night he created his tinder profile, such a penchant had turned out to be more than just an inconvenient truth.

Something so ideally simple as to create a tinder profile, shouldn’t have taken him more than a few hours. Yet, Levi found himself searching, grappling for the right words to say, finding some way to make himself more attractive than he actually was. It turned out with his own meagre attributes, drawing the right person was an altogether daunting task.

Maybe he was overthinking that night. Overthinking had been enough though to leave him exhausted, retiring for the night even before he even noticed he had forgotten to place the phone by his bedside.

When he came into his senses again, sunlight was streaming through the room, turning even the dimmest corners a little less black and a little more gray. The phone was a warm heavy weight vibrating on his chest.

He had to leave for the office soon.

His sleeping schedule only provided him a generous hour and a half to shower and to commute. Frustration at not being able to complete his bio the night before had him sluggish. It had him unwillingly reaching towards the back of his mind as he showered, as he shaved and pulled his light sweater on.

He considered extirpating that nagging thought. All you have to do is put a bio right? Levi thought to himself as he made his way to the subway station. He memorized the way to work like the back of his hand, all the way until the train platform He took the risk of walking straight ahead, eyes completely glued to the screen in front of him.

How it had taken him so much focus to decide on a bio. How it had taken him so much energy and thought. He didn’t know.

Levi though was a man of his word and thus, he had ended up clicking save after typing only a few simple straightforward words.

'Currently software testing. If interested, please swipe right.’

***

“So Levi, you’re a software tester?”

Levi found himself stifling a surprise snort at that question. The sound had come out as something he managed to disguise as a clearing of his throat. Hopefully it worked.

They had just settled on one of the corner seats of a chain coffee shop, a conservative choice for a first date. That is, if he were planning on impressing her. The date felt more like an obligation than an actual passion project. And obligations always had Levi’s mind running on overdrive, even with things as simple as ice breakers.

He didn’t expect that to have been the first line of conversation. He didn’t even know how to pronounce her name yet. The woman was looking expectantly though, bending a little forward. Whether she had been feigning interest or whether she had been genuinely interested, Levi couldn’t really tell.

Technically he tested software for a living and he didn’t need to really expose himself as the head engineer of the software so he settled for a nod.

“Oh, what kind of software do you test?” The woman in front of him pressed.

Levi snuck a glance at his phone under the table. Lynn. But was it pronounced ‘lint?’ Or was it pronounced ‘line?’

He was overthinking again. But when the woman had pronounced his own name correctly, it seemed almost criminal to have to mispronounce her name. Maybe he could table that question for a while.

Or never go on a date with her again. Levi thought to himself as he looked back up at her with the most casual face he could muster. “I test biology related software,” he answered. He purposely kept it vague. He had to note she was also a love alarm user. She had mentioned that part in her bio. Bringing it up in a conversation though was another issue altogether. If he brought it up, she might ask. If the conversation continued, she might ask more.

Did he want to expose then that he was the one who had designed the actual application?

“Biology sounds very interesting,” she commented. She didn’t seem interested in Biology though.

Not as interested as Hange. That quick comparison came like an uninvited visitor and Levi found himself just slapping the phone on top of the table on impulse. The clack of the phone on the table, the metal on hardwood rattled him enough to drive those thoughts away.

Lynn jumped in surprise. “Are you okay?” she asked.

Levi felt the blood rush to his face. When he was thinking longingly about someone married, and comparing her to Lynn, his date for the day, blushing seemed like an almost welcome sensation. “I heard you use the love alarm,” Levi started. When he was already making a fool of himself, might as well go straight to the point.

“You would like to check if we’re attracted to each other huh?” She asked. “But I don’t think we’d find out by the first date…”

“I said on my profile, I wanted to test a software so that’s why I’m here now actually.” Those words forced themselves out of Levi and they came out as a disturbed flow, as guttural sounds that burned in his throat. In the end, the honest man inside him prevailed.

“Test?” Lynn had been nice enough at least to mirror him and put her phone on the table. “You wanna test the love alarm now?”

Levi nodded as he fixed his eyes on the screen in front of him. He was familiar enough with the banner in the front of the screen to know with just a quick glance. The love alarm was active.

He didn’t have to open the application or pull down the banner to know the result. He was all too familiar with how the application would work even when placed on silent mode. The banner should at least appear, with the words ‘Someone nearby is in love with you.’

If there were at least two people around them then, if somebody else rang it, Levi would have been compelled to check. Both applications were void of hearts though. Levi closed the application and pocketed his phone. “It looks like we aren’t attracted to each other.” He only realized as those words escaped from his lips, how awkward or maybe how rude of a comment it came out as.

Lynn’s eyes were wide for a second before she furrowed her brows, framing those brown eyes. “Of course, we just met. I think attraction is something that can be built over time right?” Lynn answered.

“You’re not wrong,” Levi said. Really, he didn’t even believe he could be someone who could rattle off facts about love. Hange had said it herself, he was a little inexperienced.

He wanted to be right about it though. He wanted to believe attraction could be built over time. By extension, he wanted to hold on to the possibility that attraction could also dissipate into apathy. After all, all those emotions should have been in the same ballpark.

“So what do you think?” Lynn asked. She had said some words before that but maybe Levi had reflected too deeply to have processed anything more than the face of the woman before him.

If he blinked and squinted a little afterward, he could pretend that same wavy brown hair was Hange’s. Hange’s hair though was a little shorter and a little messier and when bright light shone at it from certain angles, it came off as a little red. Hange’s eyes were a little bigger and her face was a little rounder.

Lynn was just too different from Hange to ever be Hange.

When Levi let his vision blur though, let it focus on her features slowly then all at once, he could play pretend. When looking from his peripherals, settling for blurs instead of clear pictures, he could pretend the brown hair was Hange’s, the waves that fell on her shoulders as just another layer.

He didn’t even notice it, even after they had split the bill and when she turned down his half hearted offer to take her home. That was until her last greeting came out as they parted ways along the main street that led up to the train station.

Her last greeting was a long way off from a conventional goodbye but it had done its job to get Levi’s attention.

“By the way Levi, my name isn’t Hange.” She unmatched him on tinder after that.

***

Levi decided to put a small note under his name.

Software Engineer. Currently testing software. If interested please swipe right.

It turned out though, there were people who never read bios. “So, what do you do for a living?” The woman in front of him asked. His case in point.

Hange likes reading. An invasive thought tore through him then and Levi wondered how that could have ever been related to the situation at hand.

When he questioned himself, he found out why he even reflected on it in the first place. Right, since Hange likes reading, she wouldn’t have overlooked my bio if she found me on tinder.

Of course, she wouldn’t have tinder. Levi took a deep breath then, reminding himself for the nth time that he was going to have to settle for people who weren’t married to billionaire business tycoons.

He was going to have to settle for people who weren’t Hange.

But he didn’t have to settle for her either. She was underwhelmed yet underwhelming at the same time and Levi was starting to miss Lynn already as the more desirable option.

He quickly shook his head. You don’t have to see any of these people again. All you have to do is turn the love alarm on and watch it ring. But he was feeling so underwhelmed, so disappointed with the turn out of the date in front of him just minutes into meeting her. He had entertained just the thought of cancelling their food there, the only thing stopping him being the wasted food and the poor waitress who would have to clean the mess. So he decided he could at least stay long enough to at least try.

“So, have you heard of the love alarm Nanaba?” Levi asked. He may have put just a little more emphasis in her name. After all, he didn’t want the Lynn-Hange incident happening again.

“Of course, who hasn’t learned about the love alarm app? Actually I have it with me right now.” Nanaba pulled out her phone and dropped it in front of him.

Ten years of hard and stressful work made Levi immune to even the slightest compliments. “You wanna do some testing?” He asked. “Don’t you want to see if we’re compatible?”

Compatible. That was a complex word and Levi started to doubt the applicability of that application in determining compatibility. It was a love alarm, not a compatibility alarm.

Nanaba grinned. “Sure but I have to tell you, I don’t think it actually works.”

Levi raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. He hoped it seemed genuine though. “Really?” When he momentarily thought back to the numerous support tickets logged just within the past two weeks thought, his expression may have turned just a little genuine. It was a mess of an application after all.

“I’ve been using it for a few months already... And it hasn’t rung, not even once. .”

Maybe nobody likes you. Levi had some ironclad rules about testing, always start with user errors, not with application errors and that had him instinctively blaming her but he had to note, most people had one to two matches, Nanaba didn’t look particularly unlikeable either. Just with the thought of statistics, it should have at least rung once if she kept it on regularly.

Levi quickly switched from his engineering hat to his much more empathetic yet still very shitty customer service persona. “Maybe you just haven’t found the one who could ring it for you?” The words tasted so sweet they almost instantly clabbered into sour milk in his mouth. He felt like he was in some sappy Korean drama.

“Well, it rang with my friend Mike once but we don’t see each other that way…”

“Oh, really? Then why did you say it’s broken?”

“Because it rang with my best friend and that doesn’t count...” Nanaba wanted to say more. It was all over her face and her tone.

Levi was in no mood though to play love counselor. But he wasn’t an asshole enough to cancel the food and ditch a seemingly sad woman either. The food came at the right time when Levi was entertaining the prospect of just leaving.

Nanaba looked very much in the mood to speak, speak about something a little more emotional, a little more serious than hobbies and Levi found himself hesitant to force the conversation elsewhere.

Levi came out of that date with no second date, no results. Nanaba on the other hand came out of that date with new found confidence to confess her feelings to her long time best friend.

By the time they had exited the shop, Levi was already swiping again, grumbling obscenities about how testing wasn’t supposed to be that hard.

***

“Rico Brzenska,” Levi said. There were only too many ways to mispronounce ‘Rico.’ Still, two failed dates had him careful about names already. “So what do you do for a living?” And careful about other things as well.

“I’m a student.”

Levi almost spit his tea out at that. He should have been more careful. He had read her bio, she had mentioned something about a love alarm app and that had him swiping right already. He was sure if he had seen any indication of a minor, he would have swiped left. “Really? What kind of student?” He asked, having gone subtly for his phone and pushing it further under the table.

“A graduate student taking business and commerce.”

Levi only had to take a quick glance at his settings to be sure, there were no chances of him dating a minor, as long as nobody was lying about their age on tinder. Being an honest man though, Levi had a harder time looking through white lies.

Such awareness had him studying her round face, her large blue eyes for a little longer. She could have been a minor. Or he could just be paranoid.

But when dating a minor could actually mean jail time, Levi didn’t want to take any chances. “Do you have any ID on you?”

“ID?” Rico frowned. “Why would you need an ID?”

“You said in your bio you wanted to test the love alarm right?”

Rico nodded. “Yes, I just wanna make sure before I start dating someone, we already have the initial attraction. I don’t wanna waste my time with people who aren’t attracted to me or I’m not attracted to, if you get what I mean?”

In response, Levi hummed in understanding. He did get what she meant. The last thing he wanted to do though was inadvertently ring the love alarm of someone a good many years younger than him and risk jail time. He probably wouldn’t ring it anyway.

But just in case. Levi put his phone out on the table, leaving one hand outstretched as if to wait for an ID.

No ID. No Love Alarm. He was sure that was the sign he was giving.

"Wait you don't think I'm off age do you? You think I'm lying on my profile?"

"No, I don't think you are," Levi said. Maybe his expression betrayed his words.

Rico eventually let go of an ID, a school ID from a familiar university logo Levi was sure he had seen a few times. And her face then had been one of pure irritation and maybe a hint of fury.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "There? Legal enough for you?"

Still a student, still too young to be engaging in anything with an older man, at least by Levi's standards. Still, he found himself almost obligated to just test the alarm in front of her.

Rico didn't look happy at all to be heavily scrutinized, or doubted. When she activated her application, Levi saw it as a cue to activate his own.

All you have to do is press the button. Levi told himself. He knew it wouldn't ring. He felt no attraction to her but paranoia had his brain going in all sorts of directions at once. Maybe the blood that rushed through his cheeks then was love. Maybe his hands shaking then were nervousness and excitement at meeting one's destined partner.

Also Rico wore glasses. For some reason, that had him thinking back to someone else with glasses, he wondered for a second if her eyes were much larger without those on. And he wondered if it was similar for Hange.

How such a long train of thought could have occupied him in such a short frame of time, interrupted by a quick sleight of hand, Levi didn't know.

But it had ended so abruptly, almost violently with the familiar cacophony of two love alarms ringing at once.

For a second, Levi sat frozen on the table as his mind went ahead, racing over theories and potential testing methods to deduce the root behind the outcome.

Do I have a glasses kink? That had been Levi's first thought. He looked down at his own phone to see the one heart and the bright message on top.

One person nearby is in love with you.

His second thought had been a little more objective. It's a bug. He told himself. I'll just have to do further testing.

Rico’s eyes were wide in shock. For a few seconds or so, she struggled to move and he couldn’t blame her. After all, the ringing of multiple love alarms in such a silent place like a cafe on a weekday morning was a scene that definitely had the potential to catch some people’s attention.

Levi couldn’t be too sure. He didn’t want to survey his surroundings either so he narrowed his view to just his own love alarm and back at Rico. The latter went for her phone.

From his own angle, Levi couldn’t see her interface but he was familiar with the way she had swiped it, to know she had turned it off. The two love alarms continued to ring in the silence. Even with the tension and awkwardness so thick that made it difficult to slog through, his brain was still moving.

He was blessed with at least enough deduction skills to quickly figure it out for himself.

He was in love with someone else in the room. But who? He surveyed his surroundings, keeping his view closed to only one person at a time. That gave him enough time to brush away the rest of the stares that surfaced from having made such a scene with the harsh ring of the love alarm.

Only after scanning for a second longer did his spatial awareness catch up to him. The other ringing was coming from behind. Levi turned behind him, quickly enough to catch the mop of chestnut brown hair. Fortunately, he had been slow and careful enough to pull away at the last second, missing her forehead by a hair’s breadth.

“Watch where you’re fucking going!” That had been Levi’s first instinct. After all, he was still seeing red, just imagining their heads slamming into each other in the middle of a very silent cafe.

The brunette in front of him, put one finger to her masked mouth, pointing at one of the old fashioned signs just above her seat.

In silence, there is eloquence. It read.

Hange was a very eloquent person. Levi had read enough messages from her and stalked enough of her works to know that much. Any other day, maybe any other minute, he would have been happy to listen, learn a thing or two from the master of diplomacy.

But Hange had virtually come out of nowhere. In the middle of a date.

Giving her a onceover though, noting her masked face. The only two things that made her recognizable then was her mop of brown hair tied in a ponytail and her masked mouth. Still, that had been more than enough for Levi to have seen through it.

She had settled on the seat behind him. The way she looked back at him and the way she had seemed a little too relaxed with a half finished cup of coffee just in front of her, Levi was sure she had been there for a while.

How much did she hear? Levi couldn’t ask just yet. The alarms were still ringing and as soon as Levi turned it off on his end, it stopped. Yet people continued to stare. More importantly, Rico was still staring from behind him.

“Do you two know each other?” She asked.

The answer didn’t come as quickly for Levi as he would have wanted it too. They knew each other, they’ve met at least twice. They’ve eaten out together once. But technically, did it count as ‘knew?’ Did Hange feel the same way?”

“We’re colleagues, working on the same project,” Hange answered for him.

Levi almost instantly realized he liked that answer. Colleagues. It was definitely more intimate than ‘knew each other.’ While at the same time, it held more respect in one’s skills and talent than the word ‘friends.’ And it implied in its own little way that Hange cared about the project just as much as he did.

It had been difficult to muster a straight face then. Still, he pushed forward, nodding when he struggled to stifle the motions of his mouth and the blood that rushed to his face then.

“But the… the love alarm… it…” Rico continued to speak. She shifted her eyes quickly between both Levi and Hange. “And you…” Her eyes fixed on Hange then.

Levi followed her eyes instinctively. Did Rico recognize Hange? He couldn’t confirm it for himself. Soon after that, Rico didn’t say anything in response. Instead she blinked back surprise. She started to clean out her things and place them into her bag.

“Wait, you’re leaving?” Levi wanted to pull her back. For a split second, he had reached out his hand, grasping his hand before pulling quickly back. He didn’t mind losing the chance at a second date. Just the thought of putting someone in such a tight and uncomfortable position had his stomach turning. He couldn’t for the life of him tell what she was thinking but he at least felt the tension.

Rico didn't have the most eloquent response either. “Sorry about this… I guess on my end it just feels wrong meddling in somebody else’s relationship… I don’t wanna be the one who’d stop people from getting together.”

Levi was quick to understand though. His thoughts flew back to Nanaba just a date ago and the long one sided counseling session which consisted of Nanaba’s long drawn monologues and Levi’s own grunts of understanding. The date which eventually ended with Nanaba finally figuring out for herself the best course of action.

You know, you’re right, Both of our love alarms rang. And that’s the whole point of this app right? If they both ring, it’s a sign, we should act on it.

And that was the whole point of the love alarm. How many times had he reviewed marketing material, love story commercials which ended with that same message?

Levi opened his mouth ready to speak up. By then, Rico was already out the door, any evidence of her presence just a second ago disappearing within seconds of her leaving. The chimes by the store entrance gradually slowed to a weak dance, the people who watched her leave eventually fell back to whatever they were doing beforehand, and Levi’s own protests had deadened into a light whisper.

It’s a bug. Besides, she’s married. The words had settled in his tongue like a familiar friend and he was sure if given the chance, he would have managed to say it loud and clear.

Levi looked back in his phone to see Rico had unmatched him, just a little too quickly.

“I think we should get that bug fixed soon,” Hange whispered. She sounded like she was stifling a laugh.

"For someone who's worried about the bug, you looked like you had a swell time ringing our alarms just a while ago," Levi said bitterly.

"Zeke's on a business trip and I'm bored and lonely."

“Well, don't take it out on me.” Levi took out his wallet and dropped the cash by the side of his drink, counting enough to pay for Rico’s drink too. He didn’t think too much about the receipt or the change.

The murmurs around him were more than enough to have him hurrying out of the cafe. Did they recognize Hange?

He thought it an appropriate time to satisfy his curiosity when they were both a good distance from the shop. “Do you think people recognize you as Zeke Jaeger’s partner?”

Hange put one finger to her mask. “I saw you outside the shop and when I thought of ringing your love alarm, I did what I could to prepare." Her eyes were still smiling though and Levi was sure there was a laugh behind that mask. "Besides, even though most people recognize Zeke, I don't think they'd notice me. I don’t join the interviews or events as much as he does,” Hange said.

Levi noticed though that Hange was the type to just get lost in her surroundings. Ort hat was at least what Levi had picked up on her the first few times they have gone together. She quickly relaxed after that short and quick question and answer, and in the way that she navigated through the crowds a little too clumsily yet a little too playfully, Levi found evidence backing up his mini theory.

Even if anybody did recognize her, she probably wouldn’t have noticed. And that little realization had made it much harder for Levi to stomach what just happened in the cafe. They needed to get the bug fixed fast. “Let’s go back to the office, maybe do some more testing.”

“Isn’t that why we’re here now?” Hange asked, pointing towards the general direction of their building. “I visited your office this morning because I didn't have much to doand I thought I could be helpful. You weren’t there so I asked around and one of the people from the support team told me you were out. She said probably in your favorite tea shop.”

“You met Petra?” Levi asked. “Redhead? Short?” He soon added, noting her confused expression.

Hange snapped her fingers. “Yes, that’s her name.”

“Yeah, she knows my favorite tea shop. Gets me my favorite mix of tea leaves every year for Christmas,” Levi said, more to fill the air with at least some conversation on the way back.

It took Levi a while to notice Hange had peeked at his face even as he averted his gaze, looking elsewhere.

She spoke up. “Say… Have you ever tried testing your love alarm on her?”

***

Petra was one of the newer employees, a little shy but particularly mature for her age. She was notably competent and had a particularly better handle of her emotions than most of the other colleagues. Her most important asset had been her level headedness even under the pressure of scrutiny. Petra was the type of person to know when she was attracted to someone and she was the type of person to admit it for the sake of a smoother testing process.

Thus, she was one of Levi's favorite volunteers when testing the love alarm.

And Levi was sure, to some degree she could have liked him. If he were to consider her words as truth, and the hearts at the bottom of the screen as some indication.

When they were testing every release on fifty employees over a one week period, putting results side by side with checklists and biometrics tests, they were as thorough as it could be. It was always the case that when it was the two of them testing with each other, Levi’s love alarm always rang, Petra’s didn’t. Every single time, Petra would tag that instance as ‘QA passed.’

It could have been a placebo effect or it could have also been just an admittance to get the testing process done just a little faster but Petra never seemed like the type, breezing through the awkward scenes that came with testing a love application like they were part of a job. If it ever bothered her, she never showed it.

Levi’s alarm never rang in any of the tests he had ever taken anyway. When he double checked though, lining up the results side by side with checklists of what to look out for when one was in love, he found that it never had been a big deal. He had never been attracted to anyone in particular anyway.

“So, I’m the only one your love alarm rang with huh?” Hange asked.

Except maybe Hange.“Yeah, when doing QA work, I’ve had to test with the other employees and it never rang with any of them,” Levi admitted.

“How does QA work?”

“We test with employees, users… All on a volunteer basis if I may clarify.” Levi added that last part for just a touch of professionalism. “We have acceptable ranges for biometrics, checklists and we have a certain number of results which need to fit there to consider a release viable.”

“Why don’t we test using the QA procedure?”

“Because the QA process is a logistical nightmare. We plan a venue. We plan a schedule and we have to get a certain number of people to show up.”

“No, I meant… What if we try it, just the two of us. We answer the checklists, we take each other's biometrics and see if that falls in the exact range for ‘love'?” Hange suggested and her excitable tone only made it seem like she was suggesting something almost revolutionary.

Levi sighed. “I’d rather we use QA testing as a last resort.”

Hange’s face fell. “Why?”

“Because.”

“Because?”

“Because…” Levi would have liked to leave it at that. As he looked at Hange who had leaned on the wall, crossing her arms and staring back at him expectantly, he remembered, it was a professional relationship. If the partner of their very important investor demanded answers, she would get answers so he settled for something seemingly acceptable yet very pathetic in the grand scheme of things. “We’re going to have to answer standardized psychology quizzes and take some physical tests.”

“And I’m sure you’d have a few samples lying around. Let’s see what information we can get,” Hange said.

There were other reasons Levi had been hesitant to suggest such an exam in the first place. It had been difficult to grasp for the exact reasons until they arrived in the conference room Levi had reserved.

The room was a vacuum that had the special power of just drowning out voices, footsteps from just outside the hallway. The tables were empty, the white board put away towards the side of the room. It was clean, empty, void of any presence or even trace of it. It made Levi just a little more painfully aware of his heartbeat, his moist palms and his wild uncoordinated breathing.

He might just fail the physical exam. More specifically, he might just fail if he took it then, at the exact moment.

Grasping for some win, or at the least some comfort in that situation, he had half the mind to run through the ‘Am I in love?’ checklist or at least what he remembered from it. If he were a little honest, there might have been some things he would have checked.

But it didn’t mean he would fail it right?

“What do you think?” Hange pressed. She had settled for one of the chairs in the room.

Levi had answers, but he couldn’t share it just yet. Inviting her to take that meant that he was entertaining the prospect that they might just be in love with her---a cursed prospect.

“Or do you have any other ideas?” Hange asked. She cocked her head to one side in thought.

“If you give me a little more time to come up with something…” Levi said.

“Petra told me you have a week or two before they release the next fix. You’ve done most of the coding work. You just need to fix this bug right?” Hange was very talkative. It turned out Petra had been just a little talkative too with the right prodding by Hange. “Why don’t you wanna just test it now?” Hange's face darkened then to something almost threatening.

And maybe Levi was a little intimidated. He quickly turned away, unable to control whatever expression would force itself out of him then.

“Levi?” Her voice was grating. The echoing in the room didn’t do much to help alleviate it. “Come on, please? I want this investment as much as you do.”

If the partner of their very important investor demanded answers, she would get answers.

But it didn’t have to be the correct answers. “Fine,” Levi said. “You know, maybe the way we test this application… the way we test for love might actually be flawed so maybe some feedback from a researcher like you could be useful.”

Hange grinned from ear to ear, the ominous face of a while ago just a memory Levi could probably forget. “So where do we start?”

***

Testing for the biological numbers was quick with the right tools.

Heart rate. Hormone levels. Stress Levels. Pain Sensitivity. They had all the right test kits on hand with a document detailing the acceptable range.

All reasonable levels, albeit a little too far from the midpoint that Levi held on to the possibility that maybe they could log it all in as some coincidence. The checklists were just a little more difficult and maybe Levi was just thinking a little too far off that he had started to have a mini identity crisis.

I think about my partner a few times a day.

Partner: Referring to the person one tests the application with. Levi was aware of that much having tested the application long before. Yet for some reason, he had to loudly remind himself of that, even within the confines of his mind.

He entertained hypotheses. If Hange were his partner, that would be polyamory and that could even start the scandal of the year, or even the decade. He didn’t want to be part of that.

So he ticked ‘never’ because technically Hange wasn’t his partner anyway.

I want to be with my partner everyday.

Hange was Zeke's partner. Just the idea of getting in between a married couple had Levi's stomach turning and it had been easy to tick never right next to it.

My partner trusts me.

It was too early to tell, or so that was what Levi told himself then.

The word ‘partner’ had been a convenient term. Zeke had been a convenient presence in his mind. And that had him ticking all the 'nevers' towards the edge of the page just a little more confidently.

Technically, Hange wasn’t his partner. Technically they just met, so words like trust, amicability, happiness, charisma, compatibility and charm, didn’t have to apply to them just yet. A few minutes later, he had checked enough ‘nevers’ to have armed himself with the confidence to look her in the eye.

Hange though wasn’t reciprocating, looking deep in thought with whatever question she had been answering. She bit her lip.

Hange eventually met his gaze. Instead of being just a little more satisfied, Levi was a little disappointed, more in himself than in anyone else. For that few seconds that Hange bit her lower lip in thought, her cheekbones had seemed fuller, her hazel eyes held an almost imperceptible yet still very enthralling glimmer, and regretfully, he didn’t take the time to relish it when it was right in front of him.

“How’s the test?” Levi asked.

“It’s fine,” Hange said.

Levi slid his own answers towards her. “We just have to calculate the number of ‘always,’ the number of 'sometimes,' the number of ‘nevers’ and just match it on the document over here.” He turned his laptop towards her.

“I can do it,” Hange said, pulling the laptop towards herself. The next few minutes passed in silence. Levi stared at the ceiling, trying to keep his heartbeat in time with the clack of the keyboard. Hange typed fast and chaotically but in a way, there was rhythm and order and that had helped him get into a position where he could just drop his shoulders and fall back on the chair behind him.

“You don’t think I trust you?” Hange asked.

“It’s too early to tell right?” Levi said. That answer had been scripted and it slipped out of his mouth easily.

Hange’s let out a light sound, a cross between with a hum and a chuckle. “Well, to tell you the truth, I put here that I didn’t trust you either.”

“Well that makes both of us, I guess,” Levi said.

Hange continued to type, filling the room with some predictable rhythm, a predictable rhythm his own wild heartbeat failed to provide. Eventually, it stopped, with one loud clack on the ‘enter’ button or at least, Levi guessed it was the enter button.

Soon after, Hange leaned back on the backrest of her own chair. “Biometrics all fall in the acceptable range. Test results all fall in the unacceptable range,” she said, her tone unreadable. Too professional but Levi surmised it could be her usual ‘research’ tone. He hadn’t known her long enough to be certain.

“Maybe we should get to know each other first and try to answer again?” Hange suggested. “We just met so I can’t fully trust you yet but I think, we could get along with the right…”

Environment? Amount of time? Mutual Processing? Levi couldn’t be too sure of the answer. She had said something else after the word ‘right’ or maybe she didn’t. Still, there was a problem that needed to be solved, there was an issue that needed to be addressed that extended beyond the need to resolve the feelings between two strangers.

Or two colleagues. Levi decided he liked the word colleagues better. “So what do you suggest Hange?” Levi asked.

“I wanna do further research with this application. We can tweak whatever processes you’re using now to QA, whatever processes you’re using to determine whether people are in love. Maybe we just have to fix that a bit.”

“This application took years to develop. It’s gonna be difficult to overturn a lot of the processes.”

“Without the right funding…” Hange said. She wagged her finger and gave Levi a knowing look.

Levi narrowed his eyes accusingly at Hange. “So how’s convincing Zeke been going?”

“That’s the caveat,” Hange said. “He’s not a very techy guy. He’s an investor and scientist more than anything and sometimes, even with the right proposition, he’ll stick to some really weird reasons why he wouldn’t invest in something. I don’t blame him though since millions of dollars are usually on the line with each investment.”

" So, I’m guessing you tried to convince him?”

Hange nodded. “I did. And it looks like he won’t budge unless you fix that ‘bug.’”

“The bug which caused his love alarm to not ring around you?” And the bug which is causing our love alarms to ring. Levi added silently to himself. “Can you explain to him that we need the money to continue improving the system?”

“I’ve been with him for years, Levi. I know how he is.”

“So what do you suggest we do?”

Hange hummed. “I don’t know how programming works but...Maybe you can program the application to make it work just the way that Zeke likes it... For the time being?”

***

No. Just no.

Those were the words written all over Petra’s expression. Levi only had to look at the other faces around him to be very much sure, everyone agreed with Petra

For posterity’s sake, he repeated those words. “I understand that the regression test is done but unless I am able to get to the bottom of this bug, we won’t be able to release the fixes,” Levi said. He kept his words soft, yet still loud enough to echo through the conference room. He said it slowly and clearly. Just in case it was a bit harder to hear through shock and surprise.

“Sir, a lot of the fixes in this release have been promised for months,” Petra argued. The professionalism in her voice was still admirably apparent.

“Erwin’s orders. I’m just repeating them now,” Levi said.

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Gunther asked. “Have you found the reason behind it? I’m guessing if you do… we might have to make some changes to the code and go through regression testing again.”

“If ever that happens, I’ll handle the testing on my end,” Levi said. “It wouldn't be too hard, it’s just a blip in the code.”

“So you’ve found the cause?” Eld asked.

“Yes.” If Levi didn’t open his mouth to speak then, he was sure no one would have for the next few minutes. There was something festering in the silence, some common sentiment that he sensed among them, among those doubtful faces tinged with irritation and confusion.

He had always told them before. Always assume a user error first. And there was an apparent user error which he was sure everyone was entertaining.

What if Hange just didn’t love Zeke? A prospect that was ambrosia to Levi’s lips but at the same time a piece of ambrosia that he was sure was laced with poison. He couldn’t chew it, he couldn’t swallow for fear of just letting go for a few seconds longer, letting a smile curl up his lips during the most inopportune times.

Levi turned to Oluo in particular who he guessed would have been the one most likely to bring it up. The latter remained begrudgingly silent. It looked like no one else wanted to bring it up either. After all, Zeke was a huge opportunity for company growth, a huge opportunity for investment.

Eld spoke up.“If there’s anything we can do, just please ask. It might be too difficult of an investigation to do for one person.”

Levi shook his head. “I think this is an investigation I’d rather do alone.” There were parts of the investigation he hadn’t admitted to the team yet. All they had gotten in the report from Erwin was that Zeke’s alarm didn’t ring with Hange there but the scandal of their alarms ringing together was something he didn’t want circulating around the building.

And more importantly, there was another plan he and Hange have been entertaining, an almost unscrupulous scheme and he didn’t want anyone else involved.

***

It felt like he had run a marathon and he had been doing that slow jog for at least three days already. Or maybe it felt like he was trudging through a dessert and had been trapped there for the past three days.

He couldn’t tell for sure but his throat was constantly dry, his heart was constantly beating fast and any notification from Hange was either a water break or an oasis.

Three days ago, Zeke came back from his business trip. Four days ago, Levi sent the apk file to Hange.

“It’s a test build,” Levi said as soon as she confirmed she received it. “A test build I hard coded just for Zeke’s use.”

“Meaning…”

“Just say it’s a test build. Say I’ve fixed the code.”

“Meaning…”

“I hardcoded his data and the expected result. If he opens the alarm around you, his phone will ring," Levi explained. "It’s just a quick fix for now.”

Just a quick fix. Levi told himself multiple times. He had changed the code drastically enough though that the love alarm wouldn’t work as an expected love alarm, having customized it just to fit Zeke’s desires. For just long enough to get the money and long enough to find the actual cause of the bug.

“And tell him we’re asking for feedback before we release it,” Levi had added then.

The last time he had met her was three days ago when he dropped her the file, explained its use and when she had promised to download the apk file to Zeke’s phone.

She sent intermittent updates over the four day period. He liked it. He was enjoying it. He had confidence in the application.

Levi had to ruefully note though that the conversation never strayed too much from work. As expected from colleagues, as expected from business partners working towards the same goal.

Maybe a few times he had asked some vague questions just to get a hint of her daily life.

How’s Zeke? How are you guys?

Still, the answers always went back to updates on the application. When he was trudging to the desert or while running through some dirt track in his mind, even when the water tasted too artificially like plastic---too professional for his taste---he settled for it.

That was the only water he had after all.

Hange limited herself to ten messages a day, mentioning something about being bad at replying, apologizing for late replies. Levi had to admit though when he was working, he was guilty of a similar thing. Yet he found himself just a little irritable, a little desolate at such an outcome.

A week after he had last seen Hange, he decided to start reading the books about love again.

Love is a choice. Overused.

To love others, one must love themselves. He got that already.

Levi dropped his reader by the side of his bed and stared at the blank ceiling above him. The books on love were biased. They created for themselves an assumption, an assumption that she was his and whatever he had to deal with was some inner turmoil inside him, an inability to love. But what if he was willing to love? What if it was just a matter of circumstances just not letting him indulge in such an emotion.

He had entertained that for just a second before brushing away the nagging thought and the annoyingly sticky guilt that clung to it. Maybe there was merit in just turning off his emotions then, just discarding the overall idea of love. He deleted the books Hange had sent him from his ebook reader.

If the company got the funds, if Hange got the greenlight on her research, he would see her again, he would be forced to read those books and they would be forced to work together.

Then and there, he didn’t need to think about it just yet. He didn’t have to put himself through the pain of analyzing circumstances and emotions that left a heavy weight and an ache in his chest.

He could forget Hange until then. He could ignore her messages and maybe focus on something else like an action movie or a video game. He had streaming service subscriptions, he had game emulators on his laptop. Soon he discovered, with the right combination of focus, willpower just getting through slow starts, it was easy to immerse himself in something as mundane as a city building game.

He was halfway through building one of his farms and was already attached to the regular city goers of the small city he created for himself when his phone rang. That abrupt and grating sound had been enough of a reminder, Levi still wasn’t completely over being sad. He quickly reached for the phone on the side of his bench in an ungraceful and seemingly desperate chain of motions that had him almost ashamed of himself.

His laptop had been one of the victims, toppling over to the side of the bed but by god’s grace it had only skimmed the edges before laying flat on its side.

Levi muttered a soft curse. This message better be worth it. And the only message he decided would be worth it, would be a message from Hange which didn’t involve that stupid application.

Leviiiiiii are you free? :))))))))))

Free when? Levi was quick to reply. Now? Tomorrow? Next week? Really, he was always free, it was just a matter of asking for a leave and opening his schedule. He didn’t want to seem so pathetic as to tell her that though

Long weekend this weekend so Zeke offered to take us south to one of our country clubs.

Us?

Erwin is coming too. Levi didn't’ know whether to feel relieved or disappointed at that exposition. Before he could reply though, the messages kept coming.

Think of it as a thank you for the app ;)

And a start to a great partnership ;)

Hange had too many smileys, too many winky faces but recently, she had started to pepper her messages with just a little too much. They were colleagues, very friendly colleagues. For a second, he wondered how many smileys Hange used when messaging Zeke.

Still, Levi saw some glimmer of hope and optimism in the fact that they were creating a special bond in their own way.

And who would he be to turn down a special invite from a special colleague. I’ll see you there then :) He added his own smiley in the end, trying to forget the fact that he had wasted a good few seconds vacillating between the winking smiley face and the normal one.

Hange’s reply came quickly and maybe a little more enthusiastically. Okay! We’ll pick you up Friday night at the office :D

Levi was grateful at least he had something to look forward to.

#levihan #levihan fanfiction #zekehan

56 notes · View notes

dr-spencer-reids-queen · 4 years ago

Text

What Fresh Hell?: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill, fluff and angst, talk of child pornography, talk of sexual abuse with children

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.

Feedback is gold, and it’s the only currency I take

Billie’s father is seen parking in the driveway, and even from where you’re at, you can feel how angry he is. He turns this whole blue energy of the house into a light purple. Both red and blue mix to create a whole mess of emotions. He’s not right in the head either, but that’s clearly not going to stop him from marching in here. As soon as he does, him and Billie’s mother just go at it.

“I have been calling you all night!” she yells.

“I'm sorry, Marilyn. I turned my phone off.”

“How could you turn your phone off? What if Billie got sick or—we needed you!”

“I said I was sorry!” he groans.

She slaps his arm and gives an angry scoff. She turns away and leaves the room. Thankfully, William stays put to give her time to cool off.

“What's being done to find my daughter?”

“We're assessing that right now,” you answer.

“She's been missing since yesterday! What the hell have you people been doing since then?!”

“Where have you been, Mr. Copeland?” Gideon wonders.

“Me?”

“Where were you all day and all night?”

“I have a cabin in Brandywine Valley,” he says, but that doesn’t tell you where he’s been this entire time.

“The police tried you there.”

“Well, maybe I was out at the time.”

“Billie tried your cell phone yesterday afternoon. You didn’t answer then,” you comment.

“Well, I shut it off sometimes. I like the solitude.”

“You didn't fight your wife for custody of your daughter, but you like being in her life,” Gideon rattles off the facts.

He wants to make him nervous. It’s working.

“I want her to grow up in her home with her friends around. This is the only place she's ever lived.”

“So, you love her very much.”

“Yes.”

“Why do you waste any precious time we have left?” Gideon sighs and cuts to the chase for this is taking too long. “You weren't at your cabin. You weren't at work or with friends. Police didn't call us until a little while ago because they thought your daughter might have been with you—that you might have taken your daughter. Until you can give us a satisfactory accounting of your whereabouts from the time your daughter went missing until—would you help me understand why a devoted father who talks to his daughter every night suddenly turns his phone off and disappears for almost twenty-four hours?”

“I was… busy,” he hesitates.

“It was 1:30 in the afternoon. You called your wife at 11:30 that morning and found out Billie was missing.”

“So?”

“Well, Brandywine Valley is fifteen minutes away. Where were you, Mr. Copeland?”

William knows he’s been caught, so he chooses the right option to tell the truth. He sighs heavily and sits down with a long and tired look on his face.

“I—I was at Sloane Kettering hospital in New York City. Dr. Baylan Mahal is the head of Oncology. You can call him if you want.”

“I will. Did you have a relapse?”

“It's in my lymph nodes now. There's nothing more they can—” he cuts himself off. “Please find my daughter. Find my daughter.”

“Call Sloane Kettering,” Gideon instructs of you.

“Yes sir,” you say, already taking out your phone.

The bad news is that Sloane Kettering vouched for William, confirming he was with them the entire day with proof through cameras as well as the sign in sheet. If he didn’t take his own daughter, then that means it really is a stranger abduction—most likely. The good news is that Derek, Elle, and Hotch did have something when they returned from the park. You didn’t want to upset the parents even more, so you had a small meeting on their lawn as soon as they arrived.

“What do we know?” Gideon asks as he jogs up to the rest of the group.

“We talked to a kid who had contact with the unsub. He came back to the same street more than once,” Hotch informs.

“Well that tells us he's at ease in the neighborhood—comfortable talking to kids in plain view,” you fit the pieces together.

“He lured Billie with a story about a lost dog.”

“She recently lost one of her own.”

“That indicates previous knowledge of the victim,” Spencer says.

“But it doesn't necessarily mean that she knew him personally. This only means he's aware,” you counteract.

“Actually, it's not uncommon for predators like these to know the kids that live around his area. He’s from this neighborhood.”

“Then we go door to door and ask for voluntary searchers,” Detective Russet speaks up.

“The neighborhood is already crawling with uniforms. They're everywhere. Having more searchers is only going to make the man who did this go into hiding,” you point out.

“So far, you followed the child abduction response plan to the letter,” Gideon trails off.

“For the past few hours, yes,” the detective nods.

“So now we need to move past the guidelines and change tactics. If we don't, Billie isn't gonna make it past the next twenty-four hours. I want you to corral these clowns,” Gideon points to all of the news cameras. “We're gonna need 'em—all of 'em.”

Before you can deal with the press, it’s about time to give the profile. Usually, you’d have more time to put one together, but Billie is very high risk. If you don’t put one out now, she could die sooner rather than later. Every single cop that’s around this area is in one room, listening to your team give the profile. Each and every one of them are listening intently, taking down notes as you go along.

“Billie Copeland has been missing for twenty-two hours. It is vital that we locate her in the first twenty-four,” Gideon starts off.

“The unknown subject, or unsub, in this case is most likely a resident of one of the subdivisions around the park. We have cancelled the amber alert. We need to coordinate with all your officers to pull everyone off the street immediately,” Hotch explains.

“That’s fucking crazy,” a random officer scoffs.

“Just hear us out—”

“But it goes against court procedure. You guys wrote the damn thing.”

“Actually, Carp is just a guideline for immediate response to child abduction. Believe it or not, we're already late in the game, and we do know enough about this unsub to know that if he feels like we're closing in on him at all, he will kill Billie to avoid detection. If anything, we need to lessen the pressure on him,” Spencer spits out.

“This man fits in because nobody knows what he is. Can we really know our neighbors? He walks his dog and does yard work. Solitary activities appeal to him. However, if you watch closely, you'll see he pays a little too much attention to the neighborhood kids. Largely goes unnoticed because he isn't perceived as a threat. He’s a white male in his late twenties to thirties. He has a menial or temporary job and is socially marginalized and frustrated. He relates better to kids than he does to adults. It’s not his first offense to children, but it is his first abduction,” you explain.

“How do you know that?” Detective Russet asks.

“First-timers hunt closer to home. Experienced predators don't.”

“He's had a recent stressor—a job loss or other setback. Unable to maintain a normal relationship, he'll have extensive pornographic materials in his home and on his computer. And while they won't all involve children, some of them definitely will,” Hotch takes over.

“Since he used the missing dog ruse, and we believe him to be a regular fixture of the neighborhood, it's quite possible that he truly does own—or did at one point—own a dog named Candy. We recommend cross-checking veterinary records with residents in the neighborhood,” Spencer says.

“He will not inject himself into this investigation.”

“Don't these guys like to know what the cops know?” the detective says.

“No, not this type of unsub. He's hiding. He doesn't know what anyone saw. He doesn't know if there's any information about him out there. He's unlikely to walk in and ask us, ‘can I help you?’. But I can guarantee you he will be watching the news. So, how we handle them is very important,” Gideon stresses.

“Check your canvass records. One of you may have had contact with him in the early stages.”

“What about registered sex offenders?”

“We've got somebody working on that right now.”

“Okay, ladies and gentlemen, everyone clear on that? Good luck. Thank you,” Gideon closes this meeting out.

Derek immediately leaves off to the side to call Penelope to have her work her magic touch on the already growing pile of suspects. You’re scheduled to go back to Mrs. Copeland’s house with Elle just to make sure she and her ex-husband are doing alright. Before you do that, however, you walk over to Spencer who is kind of all by his lonesome.

“Hey, how are you holding up?” you ask.

“Could be better. What about you?”

“Same. This is just going to be another nightmare to add to my list,” you sigh sadly.

“Do you dream of children often?”

“It’s a lot less than what you’d think it’d be. I swear this job never gets easier. When I agreed to take this job when Gideon offered it, I was ecstatic. I thought I’d really make a difference.”

“But you are—”

“No, I’m not,” you cut him off. “All I get are some victims that are saved, and a shit ton of nightmares to follow it. The payoff is actually worse if I think about it. Just as I’m about to collapse from extreme depression, I think of this team. I think of you and Penelope and JJ and Derek. I think of kids like Billie. I think of everything good that comes out of these cases. While there isn’t much, I try to hold onto the good as tightly as I can in hopes some of it will rub off on me, you know?”

“Try going through life with an eidetic memory.”

“Bless your heart, Dr. Spencer Reid. Seriously. You’re doing a great job if it means anything.”

“It does. Thank you,” he smiles shyly but brightly.

“Y/N, come on!” Elle calls for you.

“Duty calls. Save that smile for me when I get back, yeah?” you flirt.

You’re already gone before Spencer can come up with anything clever to say. All he’s getting are flushed cheeks and a fuzzy brain. You actually make him forget what he’s about to do… and that’s saying something.

wanna be tagged? add yourself to this document! if your tag doesn’t work, find out why!

@averyhotchner @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel @fan-girl-97 @paulaern @inkstainedwritergirl @estrela-rogers @abitchforjay @kwbaby24 @redsalv20 @joonie-centric @spencerreid-mgg @sixpencespencee @boygenius-reid @reidemandweep @prophecyflame @happynekochan1

#what fresh hell #series rewrite #criminal minds series rewrite #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #cm #cm fanfiction #season 1 episode 12 #s1e12

67 notes · View notes

little-mad · 4 years ago

Note

“Tiny ears! Remember?!” With Tara and Thomas!

Ok, I really liked writing this one

From this list of prompts here

And for anyone who doesn’t know, more details about these two can be found on my oc masterlist

______________________________________________________

After knowing one another for two months, Tara finally agreed to cross into giant territory for her meetings with Thomas. Admittedly, it was kind of awkward standing on opposite sides of the creek. More importantly, being out in the open like that, they ran the risk of getting seen by somebody. Tara definitely did not want to have to explain why she was hanging out with a giant to her family and friends back home.

The spot she and Thomas had decided on wasn’t far into giant territory, in fact Tara could still catch a glimpse of the border through the trees. Meanwhile, Thomas was about as concealed as his giant form would allow in an area with trees shorter than him.

Of course, Tara never would have agreed to the arrangement had she not been confident Thomas harbored no ill will towards her. The guy had saved her life twice, and after getting to know him better and better over time, she could almost call him a friend.

That being said, Tara had been sure to set up clear ground rules. Most important of the rules was that Thomas had to keep his hands to himself unless given express permission otherwise. The giant had pouted extensively about it. He obviously got a kick out of holding and touching her, which was exactly why Tara had forbidden it. Plus, being around hands that could easily snuff out her life made her more than a little anxious, believe it or not.

In order to avoid physical contact while still managing to remain close to Thomas’s eye level, Tara had positioned herself in a high branch of a tree directly in front of where the giant was sitting. Thomas had been fretting like a mother hen as she climbed up, insisting it was too dangerous for someone “so itty bitty.” The comment only served to make Tara climb quicker. She’d been scaling trees since she was little, she knew exactly what she was doing.

“Wait, but I thought you said you wanted to study at that university?” Tara inquired as she absentmindedly swayed her dangling legs back and forth.

During their last meeting, Thomas had explained to her his desire to attend some fancy school in a giant city a ways away. They had something sort of similar on the human side of the border, but it was incredibly far away and was very selective with who they allowed as students. No one in Tara’s town ever even considered it as a feasible option.

Thomas gave a humorless laugh. “Well of course I want to, both Lane and I have dreamed of going there for years,” he explained. “But it costs an arm and a leg to even be allowed to study there, not to mention room and board, food, supply costs...we’d never be able to afford it.” He let out a resigned sigh.

A frown formed on Tara’s face. She couldn’t necessarily empathize with Thomas’s situation exactly, but the feeling of being trapped by forces out of her own control was familiar enough after encountering giants. “So what are you going to do then?” she asked. The First Hunt had marked Thomas’s transition from child to adult, meaning he could no longer rely on his parents and needed to seek out a way to make a living.

“I’ll probably start helping out at my uncle’s shop, at least for now,” Thomas said with a shrug. He didn’t look especially pleased with the plan, but before Tara could call him out on it, he spoke up again. “What about you? Are you going to keep gathering supplies for your doctor?” he questioned.

Since even before she had finished school, Tara had been assisting the town’s physician by foraging for medicinal supplies that could be found in nature. At first it had mostly been freelance, but within the past month she had begun receiving a regular wage from the doctor. Tara enjoyed the unrestrictive nature of the work, plus the pay wasn’t half bad either. That being said, she couldn’t see herself doing it for the rest of her life.

“Well actually…” Tara started, “I’ve been thinking I might want to join one of the scouting parties.” The job was mentally and physically demanding, but scouts were well paid and well respected. Plus, after almost being eaten on two separate occasions, Tara felt as though non-giant related dangers were pretty manageable.

“Are you crazy?!” Tara winced at the unexpected volume of Thomas’s voice, her hands instinctively going to cover her ears against the thundering noise.

When her ears stopped ringing, she lowered her hands and shot a scowl up at the giant’s face. “Hey!” she shouted, “Tiny ears! Remember?!” Despite his natural enthusiasm, Thomas was usually pretty good at keeping his voice at a volume that was comfortable to Tara. Over time, his accidental loud outbursts had decreased in frequency. Whatever streak he’d had was now soundly broken of course.

Thomas’s eyes went wide as he realized what he’d done. “Sorry, sorry!” he exclaimed in an overly hushed tone. His cheeks became tinged with a slight red color and he wore a regretful expression on his face as he looked down at Tara. “I just--I can’t believe you would actually consider doing something so needlessly risky.” When he finished the sentence he began to take on the appearance of a stern father or something.

Tara pressed her lips together. She wasn’t really sure why Thomas seemed so worked up over the idea of her joining a scouting party. In the past, she had described what the scouts did and why they were so important to the wellbeing of her town. She’d mentioned the fact that, aside from ensuring no giants ever crossed into human territory, scouts were also responsible for fending off vicious wild animals, as well as occasionally dealing with bandits that sometimes hung around the woods surrounding the town. Sure, it was probably one of the more dangerous jobs Tara could do, but it wasn’t as if it were a death sentence. It was rare that a scout was ever killed in the line of duty.

“It’s not ‘needlessly risky’, Thomas,” she insisted. “Scouts are vital to the safety of my town. Plus, it’s not as dangerous as you seem to be imagining it to be.”

“The world is a dangerous place, and you’re so small--” Thomas started, but Tara was quick to interrupt him with a raised hand.

“Okay--just because I’m small to you, doesn’t mean I can’t handle myself just fine.”

“But why risk it when you don’t have to?”

Tara rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to live my life in a bubble.” It was becoming increasingly clear to her that while Thomas may view her as a person in some respects, he still thought of her as some kind of weak creature in need of protection. Considering he’d had to save her life on multiple occasions, Tara supposed she couldn’t entirely blame him. But that had been when she’d been in giant territory. Things were different on her side of the border.

At first, Thomas opened his mouth as if he were about to shoot back a retort. However, after a moment’s pause, his expression softened slightly. “I’m--I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he admitted.

Tara sighed. It was hard to stay too mad at the guy when he sounded so genuine. He seemed to really care about her wellbeing, even if he was being a bit overbearing about it. She allowed her tensed shoulders to relax. “I appreciate your concern,” she began, making sure to choose her words carefully. “But I promise, I’ll be fine.” Tara offered Thomas her most sincere smile. “Besides, I don’t even know for sure if I am actually going to join a scouting party. It’s just a possibility.”

With slow, controlled movements, Thomas leant forward so that his face was hanging about a foot above where Tara sat. She stiffened when one of his hands gently settled down beside her on the branch, close but not quite making contact with her body. “You don’t know how much I wish I could touch you right now,” he stated, a petulant look on his face.

With her cheeks flushing pink, Tara attempted to disguise it by fixing an unperturbed expression on her face. “You--you can keep your hands to yourself, Mr. Grabby,” she declared stubbornly.

Even if she trusted Thomas not to hurt her, willingly allowing a giant to touch her felt like crossing some line. Of course, she’d already crossed all kinds of lines just by agreeing to meet with him in the first place. Maybe Tara wasn’t completely opposed to letting him touch her--but only for practical purposes! Allowing him to fiddle with her now was certainly not practical.

Thomas gave Tara a pouty face, but when she remained resolute, he released a dramatic sigh before pulling away. “You’re killing me here.”

Tara snorted as she shook her head. “You are such a drama queen.”

#g/t prompt #g/t #giant/tiny #g/t writing #my writing #oc: Tara #oc: Thomas #vore mention

47 notes · View notes

yee-fxcking-haw · 4 years ago

Text

•Save Me Again•

Summary: Ouchies :/ some hurt+comfort with Kiri. Its a rough mission for Red Riot, his anxiety gets to him, you pick up the pieces.

Pairing: Pro Hero Kirishima x NBreader (both 18+)

Warnings: Angst, panic attacks, mentions of blood, death, grounding tactics (five senses method)

Word Count: 1,605

A/N: Wrote this with a big achey heart at five in the morning. It hurts. Sorry y'all lmao.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The images flashing on the television are nothing short of horrendous, they're devastating and gorey. It leaves you feeling painfully sick and hopeless. You cling to Eiji's shirt, crying into the fabric every time a life is lost. The anchorman is talking, but his words are lost somewhere between the speakers and your ringing ears.

A particularly gruesome death is shown, you feel your body sob, but again can't process any sound. Where is he? Where the hell is he?

The screen cuts to blue, some well worded message about sparing the audience of graphic content flashes on it.

You have to breathe, you have to keep moving, you have to focus. You can't though, your lungs won't fill, your body won't budge, and your brain won't settle.

He's ok. He's built for this.

-But, he's cities away, and you haven't heard from him or seen evidence of him on the news… so, what if he isn't ok?

Those villains weren't anything he hasn't faced before, but there were so many of them. More bloodthirsty than usual, more reckless. Now, with the stupid news cut off, you have to just wait and hope to whoever the hell is running this shitshow that Eiji is holding his own.

The secret feed. Fucking hell the secret news feed.

Being a loved one of a Pro, you're connected to a secret news feed that covers events like this uncensored. It's something his commission came up with, not long after you had your first severe panic attack from not knowing if he was alive or dead on a similar mission.

Your phone is torn from your pocket, thumbs flying with urgency as you pull up the feed.

With nearly supernatural timing, the camera pans to Eijirou, who's covered head to toe in ash, debris, and blood.

"Oh, baby…" You choke out, hand reaching for him subconsciously.

In his strong arms, wrapped in rock hard safety, is the limp body of a little boy. Blood seeps from an open gash on his head, it looks deep, it looks serious.

Eiji's face is hard to read, it always is when he's in mission mode. He looks focused, but shaken, resolute, but disturbed.

You watch as he brings the boy to a medic who promptly has him laid out on a stretcher. His pulse is checked, followed by a slow, mournful shake of the medics head.

Then Eijirou's face falls, you can see his heart shredding as if it's his own child laying there.

You cry for him, your heart cracks and falls apart as you watch him realize he was too late. You know what he's thinking, you know he doesn't think he's helping, or that he should even be there.

You know he doesn't think he's a Hero.

You watch helplessly as they stabilize the situation, capture the villains, and clean up the mess. Every time the camera is on Red, your heart breaks all over again. He's not doing well, the rock has been shaken.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

When the front door finally opens, you freeze completely. You should run to him, you should say something, but what would you do? What would you say?

So, you wait. You take in his battered form, the blood, the falling hair, the broken eyes. He shucks off as much of his hero gear as he can.

His eyes stay on the ground as he walks over to you with heavy feet. He slumps down on the couch, elbows on his knees as he buries his face in his filthy hands. He smells like battle, an almost offensive smell, but something you're used to.

After a tense moment of heavy silence, a trembling sob rattles through his exhausted body.

You want to throw yourself on him, wrap around him and coddle him, but you know you have to wait.

"Can I touch you?" You question softly, trying to remember all the steps you need to take to ground somebody when they're shaken up like this.

His only reply is grabbing you by the waist so he can pull you into his lap. His arms lock around your body, his face buried into your chest, and he just cries.

The cries turn to sobs that turn to screams. All sent somewhere deep inside you, somewhere dark and hopeless. Your fingers are in his hair, as soothing as they can be when you're shaking this much.

"I know, baby… I know." You whisper, tears covering your cheeks as you break with him.

"No." He chokes, he says it like he's fighting something, like he doesn't want it to happen.

"You don't know, nobody knows." It isn't accusatory, it isn't angry, it's just painful.

You wait for a moment, unsure of your footing, trying to calculate what to do next.

You have to diffuse somehow, you have to bring him back down. He's nearly hyperventilating, and you don't want him to go through a panic attack. You know you can handle him, but when Eiji panics, it does a real number on him.

"Honey, can you feel me?" You ask cautiously, digging your fingers into his matted hair, squeezing your body around his.

He nods as another gut wrenching sob rips from his throat.

"Ok, good, baby, that's good." You coax.

"You can hear my voice, right? Can I hear yours, please?"

He takes a moment to pull breath into the bottom of his lungs, pressing the side of his face against your sternum.

"I'm here. I'm right here." He answers, just like you practiced.

"Thank you, thank you for being here." You lean back slightly, a bit difficult with how tightly he's holding you. When he feels you shift away, his breathing picks up again, his hands hold on painfully and he shakes his head frantically.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm here. I'm not leaving." You reassure him, reaching for the water bottle on the table beside the couch.

You guide his face towards yours with a gentle hand on his jaw. He's a mess of tears and snot and blood. His eyes are more bloodshot than you've ever seen them, lips quivering, eyebrows drawn tight with anxiety.

It makes you want to cry as hard as he is, but you can't. If you cry, he'll want to save you, and he's done enough saving for today.

You bring the bottle to his lips, tipping it up and making him drink. He closes his eyes as he takes in the cold water, undoubtedly dehydrated.

"You can taste that, right?" You ask as you pull it away after a few long drinks.

He'll want to chug it, but he can't, it'll make his stomach hurt.

"I can." He answers, almost like a robot, but it's better than nothing.

"Thank you, Eiji, you're ok. I'm here." You remind him.

"Can I take your shirt off?" You ask.

He nods slowly, following the lead you've taken on the situation.

Your shirts are both discarded, as soon as you're rid of the fabric you grab the blanket off the back of the couch and throw it around your back before pressing your bare torsos together.

You've learned that skin to skin is the best way to ground him. As you expect, he melts into your warmth, bringing you back down against him so he can hide his face in your neck.

"You smell nice." He whispers, picking up the senses where you left off, it makes you swell with pride.

"Good, thank you baby, what else is there?" You prompt, willing him to keep going.

"I see our home." He sniffles.

"That's right. You're home. You have me. You're safe." You repeat it a few more times.

Between gentle touches, soft kisses, and extensive reassurance, his breathing settles and his tears stop falling.

"I don't think I should be out there." He finally whispers after several moments of slowly breathing together.

You don't answer, you don't combat it. You both know he should be out there, but you know he needs to get this out, so you let him.

"I couldn't even save one k-kid." The heartbreak in his eyes is immeasurable, inconsolable, it makes you fall apart in a thousand different ways.

You don't speak, you don't fabricate comfort with sweet words. You just let him cry again, full bodied into your neck. He'll do this a few times, settle then fall apart again. You'll be patient, sit there with your glue and tape and piece him back together.

"You saved me." You remind him quietly, recalling how you met.

He truly did, you were almost collateral damage, just another tally mark on the wall counting lives lost to villains. However, one Hero, one brilliant Hero, saved your poor civilian ass.

He pulls away to blink up at you, eyes swollen and wet, broken and searching.

"You saved me." He breathes.

Your forehead falls against his.

"We save each other. That's enough. You're doing enough." You assure him, knowing he needs to hear it.

The push and pull goes on for a little while, you let him break, you stitch him back up. You wipe the dirt and blood from his body, kissing the bruises, reminding him you're real. You clean him up and talk him down, until his body is wrapped around yours in bed.

He cries himself to sleep in your arms, tears falling more slowly, the result of a dull ache that will linger for days. It'll stay this way for a bit, an unstable back and forth, but you'll be here. You'll reach down and pull him up, you'll save him like he saved you.

#kirishima eijirou #my hero academia #my hero comfort #my hero angst #kirishima comfort #kirishima angst #red riot #red riot angst #red riot comfort #my hero academia angst #my hero academia comfort #comfort fic #my hero academia fanfiction

109 notes · View notes

mystic-shadows42 · 4 years ago

Text

Afterthought {Part 9}

Warnings: Language, Violence, and minor sexual content

It had been a couple of weeks since you’ve been training with Bjorn. By now it was normal for the both of you to bicker back and forth. He would push you to keep trying after multiple failed attempts.

Some days were hard when you’d see others learning what you got down in weeks which took them only a couple of days.

He’d always say that people learn differently, but you couldn’t help but feel so behind everyone else. Sometimes you thought Bjorn believed in you more than you did yourself.

You and Bjorn parted for the day but as you were making your way out of the woods, Ubbe pushed off a tree and walked alongside you.

“So, all this time you had me watch the kids, you were with my brother?” You shook your head but said nothing to him. “What? You have nothing to say. You certainly were the chatterbox with my brother. Did you just decide that since you couldn’t have me that you go after my brother instead?”

“As if. Bjorn is only helping me train. Nothing more, which is none of your business.”

“When it comes to you, it is my business.” Ubbe pulled you back making you face him. “Tell me something, are you sleeping with Bjorn. He certainly doesn’t give out any favors for free.”

You tried leaving but Ubbe had pinned you against a tree, blocking you in. His demeanor had changed. He wasn’t mocking you anymore. He wanted answers.

“I’m going to ask you one more time. Are you sleeping with Bjorn?”

“If I was, what’s it to you?”

Ubbe tilted his head and chuckled. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself,” Ubbe brushed your hair aside then tightened his hold on your waist. “I couldn’t care less what you do in your spare time. I have some very important plans to set in place, and you always seem to meddle with them. I need Bjorn clear of you.”

You dug your nails into Ubbe’s hand making him retract it.

“Bjorn and I made a pact. He wouldn’t break that even for you.”

“A pact? Oh, I see. Just because my brother sees a pretty face he always swoops in and woos them. He’ll do whatever you want just so he can get you in his bed. Then he’ll drop you just as quick.” Ubbe had a sadistic smile on his face while he snapped his fingers at the word ‘quick.’

“Say what you will, I trust Bjorn.”

“So you think you’re special?”

“No, but Bjorn sees me in a different light than you. He’s every bit a leader that I’d follow. That’s more than what I can say about you. He has his father’s traits and ambitions.” You looked Ubbe up and down unimpressed. “You don’t even come close to being half the man he is.”

Ubbe got so angry that he slapped you. It took you off guard. You didn’t think Ubbe would ever do such a thing.

Your cheek burned and your eyes started to water. You had never been hit before, it was something you hoped to never experience again.

As a tear escaped your eye you couldn’t help but feel weak. Only Ubbe made you feel this way. Just the thought of him seeing you cry made you want to hurt him back.

“You’ve not been the same since Torvi died and you know what? She’s lucky to be in Valhalla so she doesn’t have to see you. You are pathetic Ubbe. You’re weak!”

Ubbe huffed and reached out towards you. What he didn’t know was that you held a knife in your hands and swiped it across his face.

You knew with Ubbe’s extensive training that he’d outmatch you in a fight. So the only thing you were able to do in a moment where Ubbe was truly angry, was run.

You ran until somebody pulled you into them.

That person being Bjorn. He held you as you spared a few tears. He nudged your chin up so he could look at you. When he did his face changed from one of concern to anger.

“Who did this?”

“Who do you think?”

Ubbe emerged from the woods with blood seeping from the cut on his face.

“Come here you cunt!”

Bjorn walked up to his brother, aggressively shoving him back.

“Don’t speak to her like that.”

“Who are you to tell me how to speak to her? Look what she did to me! She needs to be put in her place.” Ubbe’s eyes were bluer than ever. They held rage and hatred in them when he looked at you.

“You speak to her as if she is nothing. You share a son with her.”

“What of it?” Ubbe asked impatiently. He was practically twitching in anticipation in order to get his hands on you.

“Do you think Torvi would appreciate you speaking to another like this?”

Ubbe shook his head adamantly. “Don’t speak of Torvi. She was my wife.”

“You forget that she was once my wife too. I saw firsthand how Torvi was treated by Erlendur. He would belittle her just as you are doing to Y/N. And by the gods, if you ever hit her again, Ubbe. There’ll be no more ties bounding us.”

“That was an accident. I let my anger get the better of me and what do I get? Slashed across the face.”

“That’ll never happen again. So let me hear you say it.”

Bjorn tapped his ear and leaned towards Ubbe.

“It won’t...happen again.”

Ubbe king or no king could never face off against his elder brother. He respected him too much.

Bjorn stepped back looking his brother over once more. “Good. That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Bjorn wrapped his arm around your shoulder and urged you to your home.

“How could I have ever thought that he could change for the better?”

“My brother is a lot of things, but hitting a woman, no less the mother of his child is uncalled-for. Losing Torvi did a number on him and I fear there’s nowhere but downhill for him.”

Bjorn had put on some special ointment on your face. He was doing that while you were unbraiding your hair.

“Wear it like a badge of honor.”

“How can I?”

Bjorn titled your head up then placed his hand over yours. “A lot of great warriors have taken hits before. A lot of strong mothers keep pushing forward. And a lot of strong women endure and rise again. I can’t think of any other person capable of hurting Ubbe and still living to tell the tale.”

You chuckled at that and closed your eyes at the feeling of his hand on yours. When he went to take his hand away and get up, you gripped it.

“Stay. I feel safe when you’re around.”

Bjorn nodded in agreement. You both laid on your backs looking up at the ceiling.

“Y/N.”

“Yeah.” You answered, not breaking your stare off the ceiling.

“I may be the shield, but you are the sword. You’ve always been the sword, but sometimes you just need a little reminder. You are a strong woman. You don’t always need me to look out for you.”

“It’s not just that. You do make me feel safe, but you also bring me comfort.”

You looked over to Bjorn seeing his shoulders relax while he stared back at you. When he moved closer, you sat up. Your heart was beating rapidly making you feel nervous about what he’ll do.

He ran his fingers through your now unbraided hair.

“Can I kiss you?”

You couldn’t find any words to say so you just nodded. Immediately Bjorn connected his lips with yours. He was kissing you slowly and his hands brushed up from your shoulders to your waist.

Your body tensed up at the foreign feeling. Bjorn noticed and stopped immediately. He stood up while you backed away on the bed.

“I’m sorry,” you both said at the same time. You both chuckled at that. It was obvious you both wanted each other.

“I should be sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t. I just- I haven’t been with anyone since... Ubbe.” Saying his name aloud made you realize just how much you’ve been missing out on. He got to do whatever he wanted while you were made to stay at home and watch Enar.

Life had been passing you by. Now here was Bjorn, a man you can truly see yourself with or maybe even just for the night.

Bjorn cleared his throat and pointed his thumb towards the door. “I’ll leave you to it then. We’ll train at the same time tomorrow.”

But you weren’t satisfied with that. You’ll be damned if you allowed Bjorn out that door before you made a move. He opened the door but you quickly closed it and placed yourself in front of him.

“I don’t want you to go. I want you and I want to show you how much.”

You looked in his eyes to see him looking at you with the same intensity. “I’ll do whatever you tell me to do.”

You brought your leg up to rub against his. “Pick me up.” Bjorn didn’t hesitate to do so. You wrapped your legs around him as he pressed you against the door. He rubbed your leg and pressed himself into you.

You grabbed the back of his head and pulled him to you in a feverish kiss. Bjorn backed up and sat on the bed with you seated upon his lap.

He still had a weapon on him from when your hand brushed up against the metal. So you took it out and broke the kiss. You pushed him down in bed knowing he so badly wanted to touch you.

You knew the great Bjorn Ironside wasn’t used to giving someone else control, especially in bed. He followed your eyes to his dagger and was surprised when you cut his shirt off and rip his trousers. You didn’t care how expensive it was, this was your moment to finally have control of your life.

You were impressed with his physique. He was truly handsome.

You were a bit hesitant to undress in front of him but you wanted him to see all of you.

When you were bare in front of him you couldn’t help but look away, yet Bjorn wouldn’t let you. He turned your face to look back at him.

“You’re beautiful. This is your night to take control.”

You loved how with just a few words that he can instill confidence within you. So that’s what you did. You weren’t too gentle with Bjorn. Every time he tried to turn you over, you’d flip back on top.

Though you knew he loved it.

Next: Part 10

Tagged: @albeeox @geekandbooknerd @grincheveryday @conaionaru @lilac-tea-time @belovedcherry @lordsexmachine @lol-haha-joke @mariaenchanted @ritual-unions-gotme

#Ubbe #Ubbe ragnarson #Ubbe Lothbrok #Ubbe x reader #Ubbe Imagine #Bjorn lothbrok #Bjorn ragnarsson #Bjorn x reader #vikings

120 notes · View notes

spitpr1ncess · 4 years ago

Text

BRUISED BODIES CHAPTER 3 LEVI ACKERMAN X READER

(not my image)

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

Gentle rays of sun push through the curtains that protect you from the outside world, they fall like precious feathers across your sleepy face, you rouse from your restful slumber and bring yourself to open the curtains fully, letting mother nature embrace you as you appreciate another day alive. You have an alarm clock but you find the natural light is much more kind to you. You take a deep inhale and breathe life into your lungs, you close your eyes and scrunch them as tight as they will go as you exhale, letting any tension and anxieties about the day evaporate.

You set about making your bed, the beautiful ivory sheets are pulled taught and your duck down pillows plumped, you fold your nightdress and set it down on the chair next to your window. A few years ago, Boss had bought you a record player for your 18th birthday, and it was crisp mornings like this that called for some soft, classical music. You place a record down gently and lift the stylus, as it makes contact your room is filled with ethereal sounds, you hum and dance around slowly, opening your heavy wooden wardrobe to pick something out that will adequately satiate Boss’s hunger.

You hold up a few lingerie sets in front of your nimble body and stare into the mirror, you’ve lost a significant amount of weight the last few months, you notice your chest has all but ceased to exist at this point, Boss will not be happy about that. You decide on a soft cream set, a corset that pinches your waist in and pushes your chest up to its maximum capacity, with beautiful satin panties that you’ve altered yourself. With your weight loss, a lot of the clothes you wear leave you swimming in them, you stitched darts into the front, pulling them in and creating a feminine silhouette that accentuates your barely-there curves. You pull a pastel pink silk gown over your arms and set about applying a little make up. Pinching your cheeks and lips to draw the blood to them, you give yourself a natural blush. You pull a dark brown pencil through your brows, add white to the waterline of your eye and brush a few strokes of mascara over your lashes, finishing with a little clear gloss on your lips. Last night you’d painted your finger and toenails a soft cream, you add some pearl earrings and the necklace that Boss had given you when he first took you on.

You give yourself the once over in the mirror, making sure to not look too close, you figure that you don’t look as exhausted as you usually do, and for all intents and purposes, are ready. You wait. Its ten minutes to ten, when Boss is due, you sit patiently on the edge of your bed, your heart hammering in your chest, you’d stopped the music a few minutes prior, you know Boss likes silence, and you want to appease him. You roll your pearl earring between your index finger and your thumb anxiously, you hear the gate buzz and Jools answer. It’s a few moments before you hear his heavy footing stalks toward your door, you glare at the golden door knob, it turns, painstakingly slow. He knows you’re apprehensive and he likes to remind you of that. The door finally pushes open, assaulting the empty space between it.

You stare at him, he looks you over. He looks as grimy as ever, he is a short and stout man, with snow white hair and a beard to match, the golden tooth cap that covers one of his front teeth blinds you as he smiles from ear to ear, if you weren’t under so much pressure to please him, you might’ve thrown up at the sight of him.

“There’s my girl, as innocent as ever,” he looks straight through you before turning, closing and ensuring to lock the door. “don’t keep me waiting, stand up.” The instructions are clear as day, you stand on your weak legs, focusing everything you have on not letting Boss see how anxious you are. He steps toward you and reaches out; he draws a line from your bottom lip to your right nipple with his thumb. Your corset protects you from feeling his perverted touch, suddenly you are over the moon with your choice of undergarment. He picks at the hem of your pretty pink gown, he lifts it and you raise your arms instinctively, it’s soon removed and discarded on the floor behind him like a rag.

“I thought you might like this one, Sir.” Your breathing hitches as you await his verdict.

“You are right, little girl.” You feign a smile and give him your best doe-eyed look. He sighs, tired, turned on or frustrated you cannot tell, you wait anxiously before taking your next breath.

“I’m going to inspect you now, I have to make sure you are worth keeping, little Olive.” He moves to stand behind you and begins to unlace your corset. He easily removes it and places it carelessly on the bed. He steps so close you can feel him breathing down your neck, he looks down and observes you, with his hands reaching out he cups a breast in each hand. He places his thumbs and index fingers over your nipples and rolls them roughly, his cold, hard fingers fighting to get a physical reaction, you are not attracted to Boss in the slightest so it is hard to pretend you want him to continue, but if you close your eyes and think hard enough, you can just about picture somebody else, it’s what makes this whole ordeal that little bit more manageable.

“You’ve lost weight.” He observes, you panic.

“I have been working such long days, Sir, it was not on purpose, I promise.” You are apprehensive for what he will say next, to your surprise, he isn’t angered, in fact, he apologises.

“I have obviously not been supplying enough food, I will do better, and you shall have less work.” he continues his silent abuse on your tiny body, pulling your soft, brown hair over your left shoulder and continuing to roll your right nipple. He leans in and inhales your scent, you feel him let out a low growl, you can’t help the physical shudder that courses through you, you worry that you will start convulsing at any second, but Boss must have taken your shuddering as a sign to continue, something in him changes as he kicks your legs apart with his foot. Standing there in just those soft, silk panties, you are vulnerable, alone, completely at his mercy. You suck back a sob and picture all the times you have been at a mans mercy, you pray to a God that you do not even believe in that this will end soon, you are exhausted, completely shattered, absolutely broken. You just want peace.

He reaches his left hand into the front of your panties and feels your softness, “You are a good girl, keeping all tidy for me. I bet you even oiled yourself up this morning in anticipation. You did, didn’t you?” You can sense the dirty excitement in his voice, you nod, meekly in response, you have learnt very quickly that you need to sell whatever sick fantasy Boss is having to keep living comfortably, how you must remain his little bitch, to get your own way, eventually. You close your eyes and let go of any shred of dignity you were still grasping onto, you begin to grind into his hand, silently begging for him to give you something, to make him feel like you need him, he lets out low, perverted, guttural moan.

“You’re desperate for me, aren’t you?” It’s working.

“Please Sir. Touch me, please.” A silent tear breaks loose and wets your cheek, his erection tents and you feel it pressing against the arch of your back, you dare to reach a hand behind to palm him, he moans, without warning, you feel a finger roughly enter you, Boss layers his fingers with expensive and unneeded gold signet rings and although you hate to admit it, the cool of the jewellery feels fucking good. His alien finger curls upwards as your breathing hitches, feeling the golden rings rub against your hole.

“You are as tight as the day I took you as a young girl.”, you cringe at him bringing up your broken childhood as another silent tear falls, you try to ignore his perverted comment as you continue to palm his erection from behind you, he abruptly pulls his finger out as you are violently bent over your bed, he tears your pretty panties down to your knees.

“Put your hands above your head, and don’t move them, I’m going to inspect your holes now.” You feel him as he gapes you wide open, running a finger from your sensitive clit, to your pussy, he circles it, slipping a finger in to the first knuckle, you sense the second about to plunge into you when there is a strong knock at the door.

“I TOLD YOU NOT TO INTERRUPT ME.” You are frightened by how angered the man looming above you sounds. Afamiliar cold voice answers back. “Sir, it really cannot wait. Its E.S.” silence befalls your little room as the tension rises, you’re face down with your hands above your head, a finger in your cunt and your ass spread wide. You’re thankful there is a door separating you from the voice outside.

“Do not move, little girl.” You are frightened by the anger behind his words, you remain where you are, Boss stands up straight and strides to the door opening it wide.

“I will go, you are to take over here, make sure she is worth keeping, I’ll expect extensive feedback on my desk by eight tomorrow.” And with that, you hear his footsteps fade as he paces toward to exit.

You suddenly realise that someone is standing at your door and heat flushes to your ears, you jump up snatching what little dignity you could salvage as you speedily pull your panties back up, you protect your chest with your arms. Glaring at you, you meet the same pair of eyes you did yesterday afternoon, you are mortified, you try to say anything but nothing comes out and you stand there with your mouth wide open.

“You’ll catch flies like that, whore.” Levi retorts, this is the last thing you wanted to happen right now, or ever really. You barely have time to think before you instinctively bite back; “You’ll catch a slap if you keep staring at me like that,” you immediately regret saying anything, “what I mea…” you are interrupted as he strides toward you at a sickening pace, roughly grabbing your delicate throat, you whimper in response and a small smirk forms at the corners of your mouth.

“You’re disgusting.” Levi practically spits, this piques your interest.

“Are you going to inspect me, Mr Ackerman?” You should’ve closed your stupid mouth, but something inside of you wants to antagonise him, needs to antagonise him.

“If I had a choice, I’d not step within fifty metres of you.” He doesn’t hesitate for a second and you almost feel bad, but your mouth works faster than your brain.

“But you don’t have a choice, so are you going to?” He releases his tight grip of your neck and spins you so effortlessly you may as well have weighed the same as a stuffed toy, the next thing you know, you are face down in your mattress. With his palm forcing you down, he spits in your face, “you deserve nothing more than a beating followed by a rough fucking, I’ll teach you a few things about respect.” He’s angry, and you’re finally excited, you asked for something new, something different, and here it was, pinning you down and spitting in your face. Your heart swells.

You bait him, your next mistake.

“You think you’ll be able to teach me about respect? I apologise Mr Ackerman, but you are the man who just spat in my face. At least aim for my mouth next tim…” you are cut off as grabs a pillow and forces it over your face.

“I’m sick of the noise coming from you and I can’t stand the sight of you.” Levi stands up straight, letting the pillow go so it sits over your face as he removes his jacket, you hear him fold it and place it tidily on your chair, this humours you and you let out a muffled giggle. Levi pauses to look at you before he chooses to ignore you, giggling and with a pillow over your face, ass up in the air, he almost grabs it before continuing with his before task. He pulls a handkerchief out of his breast pocket and kneels, leaning over you and removes the pillow.

“Open.” His command is simple and you immediately follow, like a little puppy, his jaw tenses as he stuffs the handkerchief in your mouth.

“I do not like you, or even respect you, but I am not a monster, so, as I inspect you, if anything makes you uncomfortable, you are to raise your hand and I will stop. Understand?” You nod meekly and hide the blush rushing to your cheeks, never in your life has someone shown you such kindness, much less someone who so say hated you.

“You’ll use your hands now and spread yourself so I can inspect you now.” He sure wasn’t being unbearable, but he sure wasn’t living up to the beating and rough fucking he had promised you, his energy had changed, he was almost soft, or maybe you’d imagined that. Levi pulls a tight-fitting leather glove out of his pocket and slips his hand into it. He steps up behind you and grasps your little legs, and like you are nothing more than a doll, lifts you up onto the mattress with the rest of your top half.

“Keep your head down but stay on your knees,” he runs his hand over your soft rump and presses the arch of your back down, “well trained pets arch their back; it gives a better view to their owners.” The way he calls you pet makes you quiver with anticipation and you feel the slick building between your thighs. Levi must have sensed it because he pulls them down over your ass, painstakingly slow, you’re sure he’s doing it do you’ll feel them pull away from the slick forming at your embarrassingly eager cunt. Letting them fall to where your knees are planted he moves his face dangerously close to your slick covered hole, you feel his warmth in places you have never had touched before. You feel his finger circle your clit, being gently with his touch, sending shivers up your spine as a result. You dare to lean back into his touch. Men never touch you this way, really its only ever you who has circled your swollen bud with your nimble fingers, chasing your own orgasm, a real orgasm, not like the ones you orchestrate for the male gaze.

You wait for Levi to say something but he doesn’t, instead, he increases the pressure to the circles he is tracing, causing your breath to catch in your throat, you let out the tiniest mewl praying that he doesn’t hear it, he pulls his hand away.

“You are not supposed to be enjoying this, whore.” You let out a defeated sigh. Levi doesn’t move for a few minutes; you blush as you feel his eyes boring into your slick covered holes, you cannot see, but he is contemplative, he is thinking, wondering. You pray that he will say something else. Once again, he does not, he simply circles your swollen lips and probes his leather clad middle finger in. You swear you hear him let out a strained breath, but you’re not sure, your head is spinning and men don’t really take pleasure in stuff like this, do they?

He pushes in again, the furthest knuckle meeting your lips, he curls his finger upwards and rubs it against your walls, you know better than to make a sound, slowly, he pulls his finger out and you cringe at your wetness, your body must cringe physically as well because Levi picks up on it.

“Do you not like the sounds? To me, it is one of the best parts. I like to hear myself playing with the holes I fuck. It is a reminder of how depraved you are, how wet you get being manhandled.” With that he forces both his middle and ring finger into you, he curls up and rubs against your walls again, pulling his fingers back out, thrusting them back inside and repeating it over. You mewl again, but this time he does not stop.

“Listen to yourself, pet.” He continues his internal assault, though usually where you hate the assault left by men, you were enjoying his, you were hungry for it.

“Can you feel it building? Inside of your tiny body? Chase the end for me, I want you to.” Levi leans in and spits on where his fingers continue to scoop out of you like he was deseeding a melon, you squeeze your eyes shut and let the fire build in the pit of your stomach, you cry louder, your breathing speeding up, this pleasing him, Levi spanks you hard, his hands are heavy, and it hurts like hell, you feel your body about to reach its peak, you’re not sure how long you can hold off.

“I’m so… I’m so close… Please.” you try to cry out, but it comes as pathetic muffles through the handkerchief Levi had shoved inside your mouth, with that, he stops dead. In what feels like a nano second, you are flipped onto your back, held to the bed with Levi grasping your neck again. He straddles you, you cannot breathe he fists your throat so tightly you fear you may pass out, but you do not signal for him to stop, not once

His eyes stare into yours, they are full of lust; causing you to wonder if he secretly was enjoying this, that he may even like you, he shakes his head as if he heard your thought, you try your luck and dare to lift your hand and palm through his jet-black hair.

“Do not touch me.” He warns as he pins your hand above your head, his eyes turn back to the cold glare you’ve become quite acquainted with, he stands up and pulls you with the hand that was pinned against the bed.

You are thrown onto the cold wooden floor and your knees echo a cracking sound as they make contact, it stings, like an injured animal you try to crawl away but Levi is hot on your trail, he steps on your leg, just above your ankle, you are pinned, you try hard to wriggle out, but he is not weak. His shoe is freezing cold on your skin, the pain is manageable as he is holding back a little but you can feel a bruise forming already.

He violently pulls his belt undone and yanks his trousers down releasing his sizeable cock from the restraints of his boxers, “You’re making this harder for yourself, just stop wriggling.” You comply, feeling tired now, your little body starting to feel the abuse given to you over the last half hour, Levi’s eyes show a little pity as he flips you back onto your front, you knowingly kneel and push your holes on display for him as he removes his leather glove, with his trousers crumpled around his knees, he lines up behind you, he smacks your bare ass a few more times before collecting your slick on his fingers then coating his straining hardness with it before he palms it himself a few times. He presses the very tip against your hot lips before sheathing himself inside you completely.

Levi is much bigger than the men you usually take and you cry out and cover your own mouth with your hand, he reaches and pulls both of your arms tight behind you, grasping them both with one of his stern hands and the other continues to assault your ass cheeks with hard smacks.

“Don’t silence yourself, I want you to serve me as you would serve any other man, I want to hear you cry out, I want to hear you beg for me, I want to hear you come for me. Do you understand, pet?” You choose to stay silent, instead spitting out the handkerchief.

“I understand that you want me to do my job, I’m not stupid y’know.” A stupid, snide remark from you as he chokes you again, his fingers pressing into your windpipe. You’re sure he will kill you if he presses any harder. Levi slaps you hard, once, twice, thrice, you feel blood pool in your mouth as you realise he has cut your lip, you don’t hesitate as you spit in his face, the blood painting an ugly picture.

He licks his lips and contemplates his next move, he bucks his hips into you hard, you cry out, in pain or in pleasure, you are not sure but he continues to thrust in and out of you, reaching so deep inside you that you feel like breaking, yet you do not raise your hand. He releases the grasp on your arms, and they fall forward to support you as you are fucked, rough.

Levi reaches a hand around your legs and feels for your clit. He begins to rub slow circles again, and you feel it radiate deep inside your little body, he is unrelenting on his mission to make you come.

“Don’t hold back. I can feel you’re getting close.”, he reaches his other hand and pinches your left nipple between his fingers, he twists it hard and you mewl.

“Please don’t stop. Please. Please I want to come.” You’re barely audible as you practically whisper through your moans, the pleasure from Levi is unbearable, as t reaches its peak you see stars, you’ve never come like this before, like he truly cares about your pleasure, your body trembles and you come under his control, you can’t help but hold your breath as he releases his fingers from their current roles, and they grab your hips and fuck you back into him.

Continuing to come undone as Levi chases his own finish he grunts as he unloads ropes of come deep inside you, it’s warm and you welcome the feeling of being filled, suddenly, you are empty and his cock is gone, you feel his seed dripping out of you, your eyes grow heavy and you feel your chest heaving, the last thing you see is Levi scooping you up into his arms, you swear you saw a look of softness across his face, a look of hurt.

When you awaken, you are tucked into bed, a large t-shirt swallowing your sore body, you sit up and your head spins, it’s is dark outside and there is a glass of water and a small note on your bedside table, you sip from the glass and apprehensively thumb the note.

“I’m sorry” it reads. Levi. You cringe as you remember begging him for your orgasm. You’re pulled from your thoughts as your door quietly opens and Jools enters.

“Are you okay Olive?” he sounds genuinely concerned, “you’re covered in bruises… did he hurt you?” He looks away, clearly uncomfortable, again, you cringe as you recall the experience.

“I am okay Jools, I promise. How did I get to bed?” You expect Jools to say that he came and rescued you, but he doesn’t, instead he hesitates before beginning, “Levi… He, well, he bathed you, he applied creams, washed your hair, and he put you into bed. He hung around for a few hours, y’know. In case you awoke. Then he asked for some paper, wrote you a note and left.” You smile at that knowledge, regardless of what the note says, you feel that he wants to see you again.

“What did the note say?” Jools questions.

“Nothing important, just an apology, its weird”.

“Oh. Okay. If he really hurt you, you are to tell me. It is not usual for Levi to… Engage with women like he did with you. His behaviour was strange I don’t trust him”.

You look at Jools, he reaches out to touch your face, it aches, you remember the blows to your face, you are probably bruised there, too. “I am fine Jools, I was just doing my job, I am better for it, considering I didn’t have to engage with Boss!” You feign a smile, though Jools can see its fake, he trusts you enough to talk to him when you are ready.

“You had better go to bed then, Levi paid off your afternoon caller, by the way, I’m not sure about him, so be careful, please.” He turns and leaves, the door closes and you lay your heavy head back on your pillows, a curious shadow lurks by your window, but you miss it, falling into a deep slumber.

Just some peeping Tom, probably.

20 notes · View notes

shenanigans-and-imagines · 4 years ago

Note

mermaid au with thrawn prompt 3

“Aw, your legs are trembling~ does it feel that good?”

A/N: So...this turned into a thing. Hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1.9K

"Why do you insist on wearing this,” Thrawn asked, his fingers playing absentmindedly with the hem of your shorts. “It cannot serve the function of keeping you warm.”

Instinctively, you pulled the fabric down a little further down your thigh. You knew he didn’t really mean anything by it. He was a mermaid after all, humans, and by extension the taboos surrounding where someone was allowed to touch them, were still a mystery.

How strange your life had become. One day you were exploring caves along the coast line and the next, you were spending every waking hour talking with an honest to God merman. A very attractive merman. A very attractive and intelligent merman who was just as curious about you and you were about him.

You let your foot play absently in the water as you tried to find the best way to explain to someone who, for many reasons, didn’t believe in pants.

“Clothes aren’t just for keeping warm,” you said, carefully. “They also serve to cover what is perceived to be sexual aspects of the human body.”

Thrawn raised an eye brow, his red eyes scanning your up and down in careful consideration.

“Interesting,” he mused. “Does that mean humans are incapable of controlling their breeding urges and so much find ways to suppress them?”

You let out a laugh. “Yes and no? I don’t think many people find somebody walking down the street butt naked is all that appealing. It could even been considered threatening. On the other hand, if a woman walks down the street in a tight skirt, many people think that she’s asking for whatever sexual advances come her way.”

His brow furrowed. “I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I,” you admitted. “I guess it’s just one of those things that’s been part of the culture for so long, you can’t really explain it well unless you’re part of it.”

He seemed to consider this before nodding. “I suppose there is something to that. But, you didn’t answer my question. Why do you insist on wearing this?”

Blood rushed to your cheeks in a mixture of embarrassment and anger. “I don’t just get naked for anyone who asks!”

Thrawn straightened, clearly taken aback. “My apologizes,” he said, calmly. “I did not mean to offend you.”

You let out a breath, a small amount of guilt settling in your stomach. “No, no, it’s okay. I’m sorry, sometimes I forget how much you don’t know about us.”

You gave yourself a moment to collect your thoughts.

“Being naked in front of someone is...well it came be seen as a sign of trust,” you said, slowly. “It is a human in one of their most vulnerable states. There is no way to defend yourself or hide imperfections and so you are at the mercy of the other person, for better or for worse.”

The heat in your cheeks came back even as you attempted to make what you had to say next as scientific as possible.

“It is also give the other person full access to our sex organs. So, willingly being naked with some one can imply you want have have sex with them.”

Thrawn took this information in with the same calm, impassive expression he always did. His fingers continued to brush along the skin of your thigh his eyes oddly transfixed.

A pleasant shiver went through you at his touch. It was taking everything in you not to moan.

“I’m going have to ask you to stop doing that,” you said, airily.

Thrawn immediately retracted his hand, his brow furrowed. “Does it pain you?”

“No,” you assured, catching your breath. “Just the opposite actually.”

The crease of his brow deepened. “Then why would you ask me to stop if it brings you pleasure.”

“Because I don’t think it was your intention to give me...that kind of pleasure.”

You looked down, hoping he could manage to catch what you were implying.

It took him a moment, but then the creases smoothed away.

“You’re correct. It was not my intention,” he said, smoothly. “However, now that I know it does. I’m curious as to what else brings you pleasure.”

Your breath hitched. Was he seriously suggesting what you thought he was suggesting.

His red eyes seemed to glow even brighter in the dim light, reminding you ever so subtly that he was the apex predator of his realm.

“Would you show me?” he asked.

Your nodded, your heart racing in anticipation. “Yes.”

A small smile came to his lips. Reaching out a hand, he let his fingers play across your skin, slowly working their way up the inside of your leg.

Your legs spread instinctively at his touch. Your breath became shaky and all you could do was give into the sensations.

His lips pressed against your outer thigh just below where your shorts ended.

A small gasp escaped your lips. You could feel yourself becoming wet. It should have been embarrassing how little it took for him to turn you on, but it felt too good for you to care.

“Take off your clothes,” he whispered. “I want to see you.”

You nodded, carefully pulling away as Thrawn relinquished his hold.

You stood, your knees like jelly as you stared down into the water.

Thrawn watched you, the predatory look in his eyes only growing as the seconds ticked passed.

You started with you shirt, pulling it carefully over your head before dropping it to the cave floor.

Thrawn’s lips parted slightly. One small flaw on his impassive face.

You felt bolder at the sight.

Your fingers then went to your shorts, pulling them down and kicking them to the side.

Thrawn’s gaze traveled up your body, his tail flicking just a little harder beneath the water.

Your bra was next. You didn’t know why this was the part where nerves too over. Your fingers shook, making it difficult to unclasp the hinges. The fabric slid down your shoulders, but still, you couldn’t fully let it go.

What if he didn’t like what he saw? What if he thought it was a mistake? What if...?

Thrawn’s low voice interrupted you thoughts. “I said, I wanted to see all of you.”

You swallowed. The look he was giving you was a mixture of understanding and quiet hunger. How could you not listen?

You dropped your arms, allowing your bra to fall at your feet. Deciding to ride this new wave of confidence, you pulled off your panties next, before standing straight and allowing Thrawn a full view of your naked form.

A hum of approval left his throat as he took all of you in.

“I think I may understand the purpose of clothes now,” he said. “If I were human, I would only want your beauty to be for my eyes.”

A warmth spread through your blood at his words. You couldn’t think of a moment anyone had made you feel so desired.

He pushed away from the ledge leading down to the water, before reaching out his hand as a gesture to come.

You did, kneeling down and slipping into the water.

You weren’t a bad swimmer. You were actually rather good. But as you paddled to meet him, you felt very much like an awkward toddler making their first steps. Just a reminder of who’s world you were in now.

Thrawn met you half way, pulling into his arms.

Your grasped his shoulder, using them as leverage to keep you above water as your legs kicked beneath you.

With great care, Thrawn let his hands trail down the length of your body, guiding your legs to wrap around his tail.

The feeling of smooth scale felt odd between your legs, but there was no denying the small thrill it gave you. You didn’t have to do anything but allow Thrawn to hold you, suspending your both in the water.

For a moment, you just floated, staring intently at each other as this new feeling spread between you. It was strange and erotic and alien and wonderful. How could people go their whole lives and not feel this?

Slowly, Thrawn closed the gap between you and pressed his lips to yours in a tentative kiss.

You kissed him back, adding just the slightest pressure before pulling away.

Thrawn’s eyes watched you carefully, as it making special note of your initial reaction.

His next kiss was bolder, his tongue sliding against the seam of your mouth. You gave a small gasp, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

His hands moved up and down your back, squeezing and grasping at your skin.

You couldn’t suppress your moans which only drove him further.

He was learning to play your body as his personal instrument, checking and rechecking all the places that made you sing beneath his touch.

A throbbing ache grew between your legs. You hips rolled against his scales, trying to find some friction, anything to relieve the pressure.

“What do you need,” Thrawn rasped between kisses. “Tell me.”

“I need you to touch me.”

“Show me how.”

Taking one of his wrists, you pulled his hand from your back and guided it between your legs. With surprising speed, he found your clit brushing it gently with his finger.

You let out a small gasp of pleasure, your skin buzzing in anticipation.

Thrawn pulled away from your lips. The lust filled haze clearing and taking on an almost studious expression.

He touched you there again, your gasp this time turning into a moan.

“Thrawn...”

He didn’t stop. His strokes became harder and more sure with every sound from your lips. His eyes never left yours, wanting to catch every emotion that crossed your face. It was all so much and yet not enough.

“More,” you begged. “Please, Thrawn.”

He rubbed harder against your clit, but even he knew that wasn’t what you were asking. “Tell me what you need.”

“Inside me,” you gasped, your mind a haze of want. “Put your fingers inside me.”

“Where?”

You reached between you, pulling his hand to your now slick opening.

He let you take the lead, watching in utter fascination as you sunk yourself down on his two ready fingers.

You groaned in relief at having something spread you open. His fingers were so long and rough, they felt like heaven buried in your cunt.

You tried to go slow, but your body was too buzzed to perform any kind of self control. You rolled your hips, fucking yourself in earnest as you chased your high.

Thrawn soon caught on, Grasping your waist, he pumped his fingers in and out of you, matching each of your thrusts to reach deeper inside you.

The coil in your abdomen began to tighten. You were getting close, you could feel it.

“I’m going to cum,” you moaned. “Harder! Please, I need to cum!”

Thrawn pushed himself further into your pussy, curling his fingers inside you.

A cry ripped from your lips, echoing around you in an erotic chorus.

He curled his fingers again, hitting the same spot over and over.

The coil snapped. You came hard, your walls clenching tight around his digits.

He didn’t stop. He kept his fingers pumping, prolonging your orgasm as you shook and moaned around him.

Finally, you came down from your high, breathing hard.

He slipped his fingers out of you, placing his hands carefully on your hips.

“Your legs are trembling,” he whispered against your lips. “Does it feel that good?”

You nodded. “Better.”

A small smile came to his lips as he kissed you gently.

“I want to make you feel that good again.”

You shook your head, allowing your hands to trail down his chest.

“Not just yet. It’s my turn to make you feel good.”

A small groan slipped passed his lips. “Are you sure?”

You answered him with deep kiss, only pulling away after your felt him moan into your mouth.

“Show me how to touch you.”

Kinktober 2020 Masterlist

#star wars #timothy zahn #thrawn #grand admiral thrawn #thrawn x reader #grand admiral thrawn x reader #star wars: rebels #lemon #mermaid au

154 notes · View notes

slippinmickeys · 4 years ago

Text

The Post

From a Tumblr anonymous prompt: “ Prompt for AU where Mulder is an investigative reporter and Scully is a Pathologist. They bicker and work together to get to the bottom of mysterious deaths and fall in love along the way. Scully is engaged to Ethan, Mulder's competition, but she is not happy or aware that he is cheating on her. Bonus points for angst, fluff, and smut.“

“You can’t tell anyone I gave this to you,” she said, and he had a sudden almost-psychic sexual flash of his cock splitting the soft autumn fur at her center. Of her head thrown back, her sharp little incisors gnashing at the air.

He shook his head to clear it of the indecorus fantasy.

“The Post protects its sources, Dr. Scully,” he said, and took the envelope from her, his fingers brushing the skin of her hand as he did so. He was certain he saw the soft hairs of her wrist turn to goose flesh.

She turned her head away, offering him her profile, a soft rise of color high on her cheekbone.

“Ethan Minette is my fiancé, Mr. Mulder,” she said quietly, not meeting his eye.

He nearly staggered back, the past six weeks running like a movie montage on hyper speed through his mind. Minette—on the City Desk at the Times—handing cash under the table to a beat cop on K Street; the Trojan horse on Mulder’s computer, his own scoop running in the Times an hour before the Post went to press; Minette’s hand sliding down the hip of a White House aide before disappearing with her into the coat check room at The Palm.

“I assure you,” he said, scuffing the leather bottom of his shoe on the cold floor of the morgue, “not a whiff. No one will be able to trace this information back to you.”

“Thank you,” she smiled shyly, ducking her head, a lock of copper hair pulling loose from her ponytail to whisp along the delicate line of her jaw. He had to resist the urge to finger it softly back behind the shell of her ear.

Instead he raised the envelope to his temple in a salute, nodded at her and moved toward the door of the autopsy room. He turned back to her when he was within its frame, and she looked up to meet his eye, the glacial blue of her own piercing something deep inside of him.

“It was nice to officially meet you,” he said, and she smiled again.

“Oh, nothing about this was official,” she said, and he huffed a laugh and stepped away, the metal door sucking shut behind him.

He was waiting outside the morgue door when she walked out, paying no attention to her surroundings, her head making a mental list of groceries she needed to pick up on the way home. She was so startled that she had her fist around her pepper spray before she recognized him, holding up a staying hand under the orange soda glow of the street lights, his eyes all apology.

The morgue door had only clicked shut when she heaved a relieved sigh.

"Oh," she said, "it's you." The night was cold and dark around them. It was February; the ugliest time of year in DC.

He smiled at her in the half light and it took her a moment to notice that he was holding out a newspaper toward her in his other hand, the thick stack flopping down as he lifted his arm so that she could read the headline: EVIDENCE SHOWS MASSIVE COVERUP, it read, and she snatched it out of his grip.

"You went to print?!" she asked excitedly. It had been weeks since she’d tipped him off. He nodded.

"Hot off the presses," he said.

She skimmed the article under his byline, reading as fast as she could.

"God, I hope this takes them down," she muttered, still reading, "I hate dirty cops." Her pulse was thrumming.

"It will," he said with confidence, and then shifted a bit on his feet. "Though... it may take your fiancé down with them."

She steeled herself. She'd suspected this was coming since before she'd called Fox Mulder's extension at the Post. So it was true, then. Ethan was in on it. All for a fucking story.

"So be it," she said, and his eyes softened.

"You okay?" he asked. His breath wafted above their heads in a white vapor and something about the softness of his eyes and the wet glint of his generous lower lip made her forget her nerves.

"Yeah," she breathed. "Can I... buy you a drink to celebrate?"

He appeared as surprised as she was by her invitation.

"I know a great place," he said, delighted.

They burst through his door connected at the lips, her hands running over his shoulders to cleave off his suit coat and he stumbled backwards over it as it hit the floor. His blood was singing on a high of lust and gin and the exquisite poetry of her; the Roman cut of her nose, the amber glint of her hair, the way her teeth caught on her s’s.

The slam of the door behind them brought her up short. She pulled back as if surprised to find herself in his apartment, though she'd been the one who'd leaned into his ear at the bar and hissed "take me back to your place," her breath smelling of whiskey and lipstick. She'd been all hands and lips and teeth in the cab.

"You okay?" he asked for the second time that night, out of breath, practically panting, the front of his pants tight.

"I'm--" she started, "I never do this. I'm sorry, I -- I never do this."

"Hey," he said gently, "we don't have to -- I don't expect -- do you want to sit down?"

She nodded, looking shocky, and he led her over to his couch and then slipped into his kitchen, checking every cup and mug in his sparse cabinets until he found one that looked perfectly clean. He pressed the glass into her hands, the ice clicking gently into the sides. He sat on the floor next to the couch to give her space, crossed his legs and tried not to think of his aching cock.

"Ethan is --" she began, "we've been together since high school." She was talking to her lap, half the water chugged before he even sat down. Her blouse was still untucked from when he’d pulled it out of her pants to run a hand over her silk-clad breast in the cab and she was fingering the gold engagement ring on her left hand-- it was an antique-looking thing, something he couldn't see her liking, though he admittedly barely knew her at all.

He nodded at her, wanting to reach a hand out, but opting to rest his arm along the edge of the sofa instead.

"He's cheating on me," she said, a statement. Mulder knew it to be true, but it seemed too self-serving to say anything confirming it, and so he stayed mum. “But we’ve been together so long, and I didn’t want to believe it. And now that I know he’s in on this…” He reached out and touched her knee lightly, and her eyes sharpened. “Tell me something about yourself,” she went on, her voice dropping an octave, “something that no one else knows.”

And so he told her about his sister. About his years-long search for the truth. They talked and talked as she slowly melted into the sofa, her legs stretched out and almost touching him, her head propped up on her elbow.

Finally, she blinked slowly down at him.

“I still feel kind of drunk,” she said, and then yawned.

“Take my bed,” he said, rising to quickly change the sheets. “The bathroom is just over there,” he nodded toward a door. “There’s a new toothbrush in the medicine cabinet.” He disappeared into the bedroom before she could decline.

She walked through his bedroom doorway on silent feet just as he was shoving the last pillow into a fresh pillowcase. He hugged it to his chest and made his way to the door, smiling at her shyly as he passed. She grabbed his arm gently and he paused, looked down into her sharp starlet eyes. She smelled of toothpaste and faded perfume. Her face had been scrubbed clean.

“Thank you, Mulder,” she said, and let go, her touch practically burning his skin.

She called him three weeks later at work, asked him to meet her for lunch. They sat in the cavernous Les Halles in the District, at a middle table where Mulder kept getting bumped by people making their way to the restroom. The air was filled with the clatter of silverware on plates, a constant murmur of business talk, the expediter calling orders in the kitchen. She wanted to apologize to him.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said, before the words were even halfway out of her mouth. “If anyone should apologize, it should be me.”

He reached out a hand and brushed his fingers lightly over the back of her left hand. He noticed her ring finger was bare and stopped short.

“I was in a relationship and — even though I knew it was over, I should have never -- I stuck my tongue down your throat before you finished your second drink,” she said, blushing, but with a smile.

“Say what you will about the former,” he said, reaching for his sweating water glass, “but don’t you dare apologize for the latter.”

She leaned back in her chair and signaled for the waiter. As the man walked away with their orders, Scully leaned forward, her elbows on the table, fingers laced over her plate.

“Detective Cho came to our apartment as Ethan was packing up his things last week,” she said, attempting to keep a cheeky smile from her lips. Mulder’s eyebrows rose to his hairline, though he wasn’t sure which part of her statement surprised him most. “The DA was with her,” she went on, finally cracking a grin.

“You think Ethan will cop a plea?” Mulder asked excitedly, half his brain already on the phone to Skinner, his editor, the other half already writing the story.

“Take out your notebook, and I’ll tell you everything,” she said.

Mulder was on the steps of the courthouse eating a street hot dog when she came clicking down them in her best pumps. She’d been called as a witness in many cases in her life, but never before one in which one of the accused was somebody she had once loved.

She still felt shaky and overdrawn, but just the sight of his sable hair, his strong profile against the sidewalk, settled her nerves.

They hadn’t seen each other in months, but had taken to talking on the phone in the late evening, initially about the story and the case, eventually dropping any pretense and talking just to hear each other’s voice. It had gotten to the point where if she didn’t hear his low timbre each night before bed, she’d have trouble sleeping.

He turned when he sensed her and stood when he saw her, his face blossoming into a pleased smile.

She stopped two steps above him, which made them the same height. His eyes looked mossy in the sun, his lashes long sweeps along his skin.

“The courtroom smells like a Pulitzer,” she said, “I’m surprised you’re not in there.”

He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his overcoat and shrugged.

“And miss a day like this?” he said, the sun glinting off his hair as off a robin’s wing.

“You know, I really thought a sharp wit like you would come in with a line like ‘the real prize is out here,’ but I guess I lobbed the softball a little low,” she teased.

He smiled, shrugged again.

“What can I say?” he said, “I like the high ones.”

He had a smudge of mustard on the edge of his mouth, and she reached out and wiped it slowly off of him with her thumb, the scrape of his five o’clock shadow rasping.

She had a sudden almost-psychic sexual flash of his lush mouth opening wetly over the rise of her mons, of his long, warm hands running slowly up the back of her thigh, could practically feel his low, satisfied moan flushing up her skin.

She blinked away the fantasy but held it in her mind, smiled and reached for his arm, coming down the steps until she was even with him and he turned to walk with her.

“So it’s done then,” he said, finally pulling his hands from the depths of his coat pockets and reaching out until his hand was resting on the small of her back. “Can I buy you a drink to celebrate?”

She smiled into the sunshine and leaned into his touch.

#the x-files #fanfic #msr #ficlet #prompt #AU #my fic

108 notes · View notes

commanderserwin · 4 years ago

Note

omg are you still writing rn? we live in different timelines so idk if it's still drabble day skskskks but i've been seeing a lot of mafia boss erwin art on pinterest so i'm wondering if u can do that like a headcanon or a drabble if u want huhu luv u xfilanon

❯ notes: I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK A WHILE!!!! okay, i have like 5 drafts of this mafia au, and i couldn’t really pick one. and i don’t even know if this is mafia-ish enough. but here it is! i hope you enjoy!!

❯ characters. erwin smith x reader

❯ summary. the mafia boss who’s gone soft.

same space.

The meeting started as he entered, taking the red leather chair at the head of the long wooden table. His black suit was crisp, the clothes over his shoulder enunciating his built underneath. Immediately, somebody lit his cigarette while he listened to his men discuss over business. He crossed his legs over, blowing smoke into the air as he listened carefully- eyes closed and the wheels in his head turning as he pondered over their words.

Another group has been making a mess out of the city, a couple of new-bloods who doesn’t know how well guarded the city is under Erwin’s hold.

When he finally opened his eyes, his first instinct is to look at you. As quick as he got his cigarette lit, it was also how fast he pinched the end of the stick with his fingers, throwing them in his glass with a soft sheesh. He never wanted to disappoint you, so he tried his hardest to not do those anymore.

The ghost of the smile on your lips made him breathe a little better, as he trained his eyes back to the meeting. The men talked over and over, dragging their own smokes, tapping their own fingers as their signet rings shone through the white light that graced their faces. Their men stood beside you, arms crossed, or for you— a hand resting on your thigh holster, ready to make a move if needed.

Erwin clasped his hands on the table, turning his head on whoever speaks, lending his ears to hear the same words over and over again. From the corner of his eyes, you tried to hide the yawn with your pressed lips, and it made him smile softly knowing that it bores you the same way it does to him.

"Is that all?" Erwin asked quietly, tapping his fingers on the table as everybody quieted down.

"Actually—," one leader started, but he only shut his mouth when Erwin looked at him. The man sighed, closing his folder as he clasped his hands on the table just like his superior. "We could talk about this tomorrow."

"Then we shall continue tomorrow. That's all."

With one flick of his hand, everybody stood up from the table, carrying their folders as they headed towards the door together with their men. When it was your turn— his voice echoed in the room, making you freeze as the others sliver past by you with sympathetic looks. Everybody feels sorry for whoever the boss calls on, and it had to be you.

His antics, and you're sick of them.

"Stay."

Erwin relaxed on his chair, hand fiddling with the leather as he watched you take the chair on the opposite side of the table. His hand immediately reached for his pocket, a stick and a lighter, and he lit them up, the smoke going like a halo around his head. Just one look and he knew it was a mistake.

"Smoke all you want," you assured, crossing your arms as you look at him flick his eyes towards the stick and to yours.

"You don't like it when I smoke."

"I don't."

"Very well," Erwin smiled, dipping the cigarette into the water where it died. He leaned on the table, hands clasped again as he surveyed you. Erwin squinted his eyes, while you looked impassively right at him.

"What is it?"

He thought long and hard as to what he was going to say. After all these years, he still says it and you’ll bite his head off and reject him. He’s used to it, but still he wants to try— a game in his mind of how long it would take you to shut him down. Erwin smiled, take a deep breathe before he opened his mouth starting time timer as he opened his mouth.

“Will you come—,”

“No.”

“I didn’t even?”

“I know what you’re going to say.”

Erwin exhaled loudly, loosening his tie as he leaned on his chair, feeling the chill of the leather on his hands as he picked at it. You mimicked his movements while he only shook his head, recounting. It only took you a second to reject him even when he hasn’t said anything.

“Fine,” Erwin nodded, flicking his hand away as he twirled his glass in his hands watching the cigarettes swim in the water. He heard your chair screech against the floor, as you stood up making way towards the door. He noted how slow you walked as if waiting for him to call you back. He guessed he just had to surprise you. “Get home safe, then.”

The door to your apartment finally opened after so many tries, showing the mess of the place it is. Not a whole pigsty— just messy. The pillows needed rearranging, the carpet needs vacuuming, frames needed dusting and the shoe rack needs to be filled but only one pair of your shoes sits there.

“I am so tired,” you sighed, closing the door behind you as you dropped your bag on the floor, feet immediately going to the kitchen in search for something. You crouched down in front of your refrigerator, groaning at the water bottles that it displayed and no actual food. “Really?”

This isn’t what you needed after this day. Today has been exhausting, it has always been exhausting and too physical and you needed a break— but in this line of work, breaks were nonexistent. The amount of people you have met only to have them meet their ends and their days over some squabble over land and money made you too exhausted. The only thing giving your mind peace is the cold air coming from the refrigerator as it mockingly showed you the absence of food— and that you should go grocery shopping soon.

But your night just got even more exhausting. You knew nobody was following you, and you made sure of that. You weren’t a nobody in the organization so having someone stalk you was a normal recurrence but you didn’t want it now. The only good thing is that you haven’t taken off of your thigh holster where a pistol now becomes an extension of your arm as you surely cocked it in your hand.

Whoever followed you was good. Their footsteps were muffled against your wooden, creaky floors yet one sigh out of their body and you immediately let your guard down. You cocked the gun back into your holster— your heart calming down as you slammed the refrigerator behind you.

Their blue eyes made your heart melt as you took a deep breath.

“Can you please learn how to knock?”

“You ought to place another lock on your doors.” Erwin kissed your forehead in passing as he moved inside your kitchen, pulling back the bar stools hidden under your kitchen island.

“I have placed three locks already! So, knock!”

“I will knock if I can’t pick through your door.”

“Fine.”

Erwin moved past you as you just noticed that he brought a bag with him- presumably takeouts and your heart did a dance for his thoughtfulness. “Dinner?”

“I’ll grab the plates,” you sighed, peeking through his shoulder as you inspected what he brought. Erwin felt you behind him, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. You tried to press your lips into a straight line but it all failed when he reached down to press a soft kiss on your lips alongside pushing you gently away to go on your merry way. “Burglar.”

“Boss,” Erwin mused, sitting down on the bar stool as he opened the food containers, waiting for you to come back with the plates and forks. He stood up, reaching for some glasses, wine, and water. Once you handed him his plate and fork, he pulled on your chair a little closer to him, serving a big one on the plate. “Eat.”

“Thank you,” you breathed, squeezing his thigh as you ate silently. It made you giddy inside that he brought you your favorite, never missing one bit on your likes and dislikes.

Erwin nodded, smiling gently as he took off of his coat to fold it near him. His hands moved swiftly, on his tie as he finally took them off as well as unbuttoning his shirt at the top. His hand went to his sleeve, but he stopped to ask you something.

“Will you pass me a napkin?” Erwin pointed to the folded ones inside the bag while you pushed them towards him, resuming your dinner. “Thank you.”

From the corner of your eyes, you watched him fiddle with his cufflinks and you wanted nothing more than to chuck those things away far from him as the rusty metal things stained his sleeves. He placed his rusty cufflinks on the napkin, delicately pushing them near his folded things. Erwin only raised a brow in question as you gawked on him, chewing slowly— waiting for you to say it out loud.

“You should throw those out,” you commented, pulling the napkin where his cufflinks were as you inspected them around your fingers. He only pulled them back, swatting your hand as he did so.

“Why should I?” Erwin asked, placing them aside as he turned to you. He watched the immediate rise of the pink tinge on your cheeks as he tilted his head to the side, “You gave them to me years ago.”

Erwin wouldn’t never admit it, but he always deemed those cufflinks were his lucky charms. His day would be incomplete if he wasn’t wearing those, and despite all the expensive and new ones that’s he got from you and others, he would always come back and place the rusty ones on his sleeves no matter how much it stained. Those cufflinks meant the beginning for him, a reminder, and the light at the end of the tunnel— because he knows if he wears those he’ll be fine at the end of the day no more how hard his work was. Those cufflinks meant you.

“They’re rusty,” you sighed, turning at him. “Look at your sleeves now, they’re stained.”

“I own a laundromat for that problem,” Erwin began, his hands feeling his chest for the golden chain that he wears. He always hides them from everybody, but not from you. He fixes them outside his shirt, where a dangling emerald rests on it, making it the sole color on his dark suit.

“I could always buy you a new one,” you said, pushing his plate towards him while he finishes his routine.

“I don’t need a new one.”

“Erwin.”

“I don’t want a new one.”

He pecked your lips once, twice— thrice until you have shut your mouth, defeated as he settled for those rusty cufflinks. It has been years since he has received them and you did notice that he wears them everyday, and at that point you made a promise to yourself to buy him a better one. But even after those days, he would always come to work, sit on his chair, listen to his men, barge into your apartment— still wearing those cufflinks.

“But?”

Four times.

“Eat,” Erwin pushed, turning his body away as you scowled beside him. He knows very well what you were doing and he wouldn’t want to let you go through it. He wouldn’t and would never want these— his favorite cufflinks to meet the trash.

At night, he laid down beside you, eyes droopily closing as you squirmed beside him to fit the both of you in the small bed. Erwin tightened his hold on your waist, making you stop as you chuckled in the dark, resting your head on his shoulder as he gently shook in laughter as well.

You thought about all the times he has invited you to come home to him. Never missing to ask you that question always at the end of the day, and always saying the same answer.

“What are you thinking about?”

Erwin turned to his side, clasping his hands below his cheek as he listened to you in the dark.

“What if I come home with you?”

“If you only want to.”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Erwin kissed the tip of your nose, nudging them gently as he pulled away.

“So that I know you’ll be safe.”

“I can take care of myself,” you scoffed, snuggling on the crook of his neck as he immediately wrapped an arm around you tight. “Besides I know you have armed men here.”

“Well,” Erwin whispered, smiling atop of your head, “I do own the street.”

That got a laughter out of you, because it was true. His grand gestures always makes sure that you were safe and protected— even when he knows how well you could handle yourself if problem does arise. Erwin has been the first ones to witness it, and he would never forget about it. Still, he would want to make sure you were safe.

“But why?”

Erwin placed a kiss on your forehead, whispering, “I want to come home with you.”

“You can come home with me.”

“Baby,” Erwin chuckled lightly, pulling away from your embrace, “We could barely fit in this bed.”

“I’ll buy a new bed,” you smiled, turning away as Erwin immediately wrapped his arm around you, lazily kissing the back of your neck.

In the morning, you’d wake up to the sound of footsteps creaking over in the living room. Familiar footsteps— and you would get out of your bed to tiptoe for the burglar. His back was against your torso for a minute, feeling his chest ramble with every word that he speaks over the phone and it would make you smile— no matter how brutal they might be talking about.

In the afternoon, the meeting would resume once more, and Erwin would find your eyes in a second as he takes a sit on his chair, making sure to flick his wrist as the rusty cufflinks makes an appearance once again on his clothes.

In the evening when everybody is on their way home, Erwin would call you back to his executive room, ushering you take a sit before him. He counted again in his mind on how long it will take you to reject him. He’ll continue to ask even if his voice becomes hoarse, he would still ask. He tapped his fingers on the table, as you only crossed your arms avoiding his eyes.

Nervousness pools at the bottom of your stomach, feeling skittish underneath his blue eyes. Erwin knew something was bothering you, so he immediately jumped on his feet, rounding the table until he could place his hands on your shoulder.

“Look at me,” Erwin whispered, rubbing circles on to you jaw while he gently lifted your chin. “What is it?”

“Come home with me,” you whispered with your eyes closed. When he didn’t say anything, you pulled away— panting hard because he stayed silent. “Forget that I said anything.”

“Stop,” Erwin caught on your hand, pulling you closer to him, his eyes filled with a shine, as he smiled. Just one look at his face, your suppressed lips and nervous eyes fluttered away, while he nods at your invitation. He grabbed some pins from his coat, dropping it over your hand.

“What is this?”

“I don’t have to pick through your door anymore,” Erwin mused, pushing you towards the door with a hand on your back, while he whispered quietly over your temple, “I’d love to come home to you.”

#i was like no let me make it angsty :// and :)#erwin smith x reader #erwin smith imagine #erwin smith imagines #erwin x reader #aot imagines #aot imagine #snk imagines #snk imagine #attack on titan imagines #attack on titan imagine #aot fanfiction #attack on titan fanfiction

91 notes · View notes

lord-explosion-baku · 5 years ago

Text

Hero Santa

Sero x fem!reader

Warnings: yellow sour fruit, swearing

A/N: wow it’s been a long time that I’ve posted a oneshot. Sorry about that. My job keeps me busy and the fic I’m writing takes priority. This isn’t a request either so I’m ;;; this is entirely self-indulgent. I’ve just discovered a newfound love for mr. tape boy and wanted to write something about him. There’s a lot of cringey things in here. Like, secondhand emebarssment type things. But I just wanted to write something funny and wholesome, straying away from the incessant dubcon that litters my blog. If this makes you embarrassed then I think I’ve done my job right? If this makes you smile, then double points for me, I guess! Also, fuck you, I'm still mourning the loss of blockbuster movies so it exists in this one shot. huzzah.

You barrel in through Sero’s threshold, clutching your sides as you bust out laughing, exhilarated from you and Sero’s grand escape from a dastardly encounter— you seeing your ex boyfriend in public. Sero flings himself after you, clamping his hands down on your shoulders practically shaking as he tries to catch his breath.

“D-do you think he saw us??” He snickers, twirling around you to throw his house keys down on his front door counter top.

“I’m sure he did! He said my name right before you grabbed me!”

Sero’s grin widens as he sifts through your bag to grab one of the many sweet treats he picked out for the both of you. “But are you really sure that he saw us?”

“Sero, you literally spider-manned us out of blockbuster. The entire store saw us! They’re going to have to get a long ass ladder to get that tape off the ceiling!” You grin at him and with your best, most formal tone, you mock, “that was quite indecent, young man!”

“Ehhh. I’m sure they have somebody at the blockbuster who was like a leg extension or flying quirk. They’ll be fine!

You snort. “I can’t believe you just referred to blockbuster as ‘the blockbuster’ like you’re some kinda old lady!”

“Now, why don’t you make a decision on what my identity is? Who am I: Spider-Man or Gammy NumNums?”

“Who am I to say? I don't know Spider-Man’s secret identity. How are we so sure that Gammy NumNums herself isn’t Spider-Man?

“Oh shit, I think you’re onto something there.” Sero plops down on his couch, setting his treats down on the table next to it. “I’m really living the greatest triple life, huh? The best of all worlds.”

“I’ll say.” You mosey into the room, vibrating with happiness and comfort you get whenever you’re in Sero’s house. You nod at the pile of blankets he has at his feet. The two of you are going to be having a blanket fort movie night, something you’ve been looking forward to all week long. “Shall we get started?”

“Nah nah nah, lemme take care of all of this! Can you get the popcorn ready?”

You nod and grab two different packets from your bag. “Butter or kettle? I couldn’t decide.”

“What do I look like, an animal? Butter! Buttery butter. I want my popcorn to slide off my fingertips!”

You mock a gag. “I think maybe you are an animal,” you say and throw a pillow at Sero’s face before hopping to the kitchen before he could retaliate.

You leave the room with a giant smile on your face. Back at the store, you let yourself freeze in front of your ex while a thousand thoughts ran through your head. It’s always been odd seeing him in public after the two of you broke up, but every time you have seen him, you’ve been able to hide yourself immediately. Thankfully Sero was there when you were discovered and you recovered from your mental paralysis as soon as he swung the two of you out and away from him.

Sero has really been a special kind of hero towards you since your breakup. He’s been nothing but supportive of you— there for you whether you needed a shoulder to cry on or someone to bring a smile to your face. Sero is your guy. Sometimes both! You recall an instance where you were done crying but had said something along the lines of “my heart might be broken,” and without hesitating, Sero clicked out a piece of his tape and placed it over your chest, telling you that he’d be there to fix it. That’s when you first realized that maybe your heart could change fall into a new direction. He has really become something very… special to you. You find your heart skipping a beat during certain instances. If his hand lingers on your waist for a second longer than you’re used to, your mind goes haywire. It’s funny— you know you have feelings for him, and you’re pretty positive he might reciprocate those feelings, but the two of you avoid saying anything about it like the plague. You’re completely comfortable with him, but sometimes when you’re alone, when you’re close, the air grows thick with tension and the two of you sit in silence until one of you inevitable break the silence by making some lame joke. But god, sometimes you just want to hold the boy down and smooch his face!!

You pause in the hallway to check yourself in the mirror, pursing your lips as you turn to inspect your teal blue pajama bottoms. You sigh, embarrassed to have been in public with your lounge wear: slippers and all. If you had been expecting to see anybody, you would’ve done your makeup, maybe put on a skirt and some cute boots, but he saw you looking like a slob with a shit ton of candy in your hands.

After you pop your corn, you return to Sero’s living room, amazed at how quickly he made the fort transformation. Blankets hang from the walls and ceiling, cascading down with nice curves centering on an arena of fluffy pillows with Sero sprawled out in the middle, languidly pushing chocolate covered cookie dough into his mouth while he bats at the controls to get the movie started. You pause at the doorway, shifting your weight from one leg to another nervously until he looks at you, lifting a brow when you bite your lip.

“I know,” he says with a grin, “I’m absolutely brilliant.”

“You’re just alright.” You take you seat next to the boy, and burrow your cold feet under his legs. He gives you a funny grin, but you shrug it off. “I’m cold!”

“I think I-“ Sero presses his lips together, a worried look crawling over his face “-I’m certain I spared a blanket or two for us to actually use.”

He takes a moment to look around and after he finds nothing, he gives you a wide eyed stare. “Oh no.”

“See, this is why you're just alright.”

Sero hops up. “No, no, no— I’m not just alright. I’m the king of this here fort.” Sero raises his hands to feel around for a blanket used for the roof that’s unnecessary for the structure. His shirt lifts, exposing his tight midriff to you, and you tell yourself to look away, but you just can’t bring yourself to. Your eyes linger on his naval before drifting down towards his gray sweatpants where you can definitely make out the outline of his dick. You could scream.

“Do forts usually have kings?”

“This one does.”

You get to you knees, fully aware of how it might look to him if he so much as glances down, and ask, “if you’re the king, what would that make me?”

“That’s easy,” Sero says, carefully peeling some tape off a loose blanket, “you’re the princess.”

“HA! So you’re my dad?!”

Sero snickers before his eyes meet yours, blanket falling into his hands. He hesitates for a moment while he looks down at you, his brows furrowing as the tips of his ears grow to be a redder hue.

“Absolutely not,” he whispers in a tone softer than you’re used to. The blanket fall to the floor, but Sero stays stock still, eyes glazing over as he takes in your suggestive position.

“Then how does this work?” You quip, growing all the more embarrassed that you’re practically begging for him to make a move while at the same time, doing absolutely nothing.

“Don’t you remember?” Finally, he crouches down, leveling his head with yours. You can feel his breath dance across your face as he continues, “I swept you off your feet. Stole you right out from under the nose of a beastly emperor. The princess is merely a guest at my fort; it’s a safe haven for her.”

“Then one could say that the princess owes the king a lot for saving her life…”

“The king is only happy when the princess is safe and happy. She owes him nothing.”

“Is that so…?” You reach a hand into the popcorn bowl, grin sinisterly at ‘the king’, and buck a handful of the buttery goodness Sero loves so much right at his face. “Little did you know, the princess has been planning to assassinate the king in order to take the fort for herself!”

“Damn you, princess!” Sero laughs, throwing his own handful right back at you. “The king has been betrayed one too many times after giving in to acts of charity!”

“The king is a fool!” You yell, swinging a pillow at his face, knocking him back into his cushioned seminar. “Long live princess me!!”

Sero moves to remove your assault weapon from his face, only to have you climb on top of him to pin his hands behind his back

“You suck.”

“You sure wish I would.”

“I—“ Sero’s face flushes beat red while you smirk down at him. You tighten your thighs hold around him but get distracted by something poking your chest. It’s popcorn.

“Oh. Ew.” Without thinking, you pull the bits out from your bra and pop them into your mouth. Sero gives you a funny grin and it’s your turn to flush. You hide behind your hands and cry, “GAHH! I’m not a princess! I’m a troll!”

Sero uses this opening to his advantage, grabbing onto your hands and using sheer strength, flings you onto your back, panning you down against a pillowy wonderland.

“Ahhh curse your hero training,” you laugh, wiggling your legs around so you can lay more comfortably under your faux assailant.

“Troll princess,” Sero sighs, his warm breath cascading down your neck, causing shivers to prickle all across your body, “I've got you now.”

“Oh nooo.” You toss your head back, subtly lifting your pelvis to press against his. Heat floods into your belly when you feel his hardening erection pulsate against you. This isn’t what friends do and you know that. He has to know that, too. ��The King’s got the poor, helpless princess locked beneath him. Whatever can she do? Whatever will he do?”

Sero goes silent. His eyes scan over your face, lips patting when they land in yours. You’re unsure of what to do— what to say. At this point you might as well tell him to kiss you.

“I don’t wanna play this game anymore,” he says in a sort of morose way. You heart falls and your stomach goes to knots. Maybe you were wrong about him feeling the same way for you do? Maybe the two of you are just really good friends. But his hands don’t move from their pinned position.

“Sero… we don’t have to do this if you don’t w—“

Your sentence gets cut short by Sero’s lips suddenly locking onto yours. You hum in surprise, but kiss him back, your skin practically screaming in delight when his tongue slides over your bottom lip. You try to reach up to him but Sero’s bolted hands hold your wrists firmly, keeping them above your head and all you can do is roll your tongue over his, trying to catch as much of him as you can before the kiss breaks.

But it doesn’t. He pushes your wrists together so he can hold you with one hand while the other slides down to your body, caressing your side until he squeezes your waist. You lift your pelvis and his arm wraps around your back, pulling you closer against his body. His cock rubs against your pubic bone and you can’t help but imagine what it may feel like inside of you.

You manage to free one of your hands and swiftly move it down to his sweats, greedily massaging him through his pants. Finally Sero pulls away, a trail of saliva connecting your lips to his.

“Oh, heh~,” he says, seizing your hand. “I’m, uh, really sensitive…”

“Oh? I’d like to see just how-“ again, you’re cut off by Sero claiming your lips, the kiss more forceful the second time around. It’s messy, and wet, and desperate, and you find yourself sighing into his mouth every time you get a chance to breathe, only to have those short moments thrown away by your own need possessing your body to kiss him back harsher, hands reaching up to his hair to tug and pull, exciting you when you hear a groan build up in the back Sero’s throat.

“Fuck.” Sero’s lips meet your neck, his hand resting against your exposed belly. It’s cold but you don’t mind; your body craves his cool touch. Using his tongue, Sero draw a long strip up from your neck to your ear, causing your body to shudder. You practically melt when he whispers, “I want you. I want you so bad. You have no idea.”

You sigh as Sero nibbles in your ear, his hands boldly exploring farther up your body. “I… think I have some idea.”

“Nuh-uh.” Sero leans back, his eyes shamelessly scanning over your body. You didn’t think it possible, but your skin warms up even more from his lingering gaze. As much as you like the attention, you want his hands right back on you pronto. “There’s no way you could possibly like me as much as I like you…”

You scowl at him. Too much talking and not enough kissing. You pull your shirt off and unclasp your bra, throwing your garments to the side, exposing yourself to him. Nervous tingles nip at your body, but the look on his face, the way his eyes flick from your face to your chest and back to your face as his adam’s apple bobs, makes it all worth it.

“Shit… you’re so— you’re everything to me, I need you to know that, like, if you’re at all uncomfortable or like if I do something you don’t like— god, you’re gorgeous, I just wanna—“

“-Sero…” You take his hands in yours and lead them back to your body. “Please… touch me.”

“Y-yeah…”

Sero presses his lips to yours in a sweeter manner, him molding to you nearly perfectly as his hands run up your sides. Goosebumps erupt across your body when he pushes you back down against the pillows. His right hand cups your breast as he trails kisses down your chest, only pausing when he begins to snicker.

“What?”

“Salty,” he says, his tongue licking dangerous close to your nipple. “You taste like popcorn.”

“Ohhhh noooooo-ahhh~!”

A pretty sight: Sero’s pink tongue rolling out to lav over your puckered bud.

His lips wrap around your nipple; he sucks and your body jolts forward. He’s not the only one who’s sensitive. His eyes meet yours and he offers you a sinister grin. “I like it.”

Your breathing grows heavy while Sero makes his way down your stomach, making sure to pay extra attention to the places that make you squirm when he kisses them. He gets to your pajama shorts and pets your clothed slit with a knuckle. Your hips buck up when he leans down and licks you through your shorts, excited pulsations grabbing at your core. You need more.

Your shorts fly off by your own doing, whether it’s to get the ball rolling or if you want him to be giving you the exact same lustful stare he is now is lost to you, but you’ll take it. You love it. You want him to look at you like that forever.

Sero pets your core, his own breath shuddering as you roll your hips at his touch.

“You’re already so fucking wet,” he says, annunciating every word as if it pains him to say it. He rests his head in your thigh as he lazily teases you, seeming to enjoy your light mewling that comes when his fingers grow closer to your clit, the way your body moves to his touch. “I want it.”

“What ~ahah~ what are you gonna do about it?”

“Hmmm.” To your severe displeasure, Sero removes to hands, only to strip himself of his own shirt. You stare at him in awe; of course you’ve seen him shirtless before, but under these circumstances, it’s different. And you’re sure he’s bulked our a bit since the last time you caught him half-naked. Goodness.

“Ohh my god,” you sigh when he tosses his shirt to the sigh, the sight of his muscles moving over you incredibly enticing.

“What?” Sero gets to his elbows and spreads your legs open for him. He gives your pussy a long lick and groans, closing his eyes when he kisses your pubic bone. “You got something to say?”

“You’re just… so… ohhhh~!”

Sero begins laving at your heat, drowning the room with your surprised moans. His skillful tongue traces your caverns until his mouth is covered in your need. He eats you out like he’s starving for it— hell, he could’ve been famished if he says there’s no way you can like him more than he likes you. His tongue circles your clit, his never ceasing groans adding to your pleasure. You reach down as grasp at his soft hair, massaging his head as he toys with your sensitivity.

“So what, Princess?” He asks as his fingers tease your hole. The nickname sends shivers up your spine. You don’t mind it, you just didn’t think that something so cheesy could sound so hot coming from him.

“So— ahhh ahah~!” A loud moan you aren’t expecting tears out from your throat when Sero plunges two fingers into your depths. He chuckles and returns his attention back to your clit, watching your face contort in pleasure through heavy eyelashes. He sucks in you while his fingers curl against your walls, the threat of your own release building up against your stomach. You moan and pull his hair, whispering incomprehensible words, trying to find the right way to encourage him, the right way to warn him that you’re close.

“I know, I’ve got a big tongue, huh?” Oh, so he could be a smug bastard, too?

“Sssaaah~” You try saying his name, but it’s lost to you. You don’t know what to call him: Hanta? Sero? He’s been your friend for so long that saying his actual name might sound weird on your tongue, but what if saying his last name sounds weird to him? “Hero…”

“Hmmm?” His low voice murmuring into your core sends your body into a frenzy. Your body starts to shake and grip onto the cushions to keep you grounded, but that doesn’t save you from the next word you yelp out as your body is lost to ecstatic fits.

“Fuck! Oh god, Santa~ nnng~ hah~!” You squeeze your thighs together, locking him in as he gifts you with little kitten licks, elongating your excruciating orgasm with the low reverberations of his voice while he laps up your pleasure.

Your body settles but that doesn’t stop him at first. He savors your twitching body, kissing your swollen bud tenderly, brushing his hands across your sweat covered body, until he looks up at you and grins.

“So you have some kinda Christmas kink?”

You catch your breath, gazing up at the makeshift blanket ceiling, before looking back down at his goofy, red face. “What do you mean?”

“You just called me ‘Santa.’ I mean, Christmas isn’t for another month but I’m sure I could find a Santa hat somewhere if that’s what you’re into. I live to please.”

“Oh no.” You bury yourself behind your hands. “No I didn’t. No, no, noooo!!”

Sero climbs on top of you and kisses your hands. “Hey,” he sings at you, “don’t hide. I don’t kink shame.”

You grab a pillow a fling it into his face. “Shut up! Noooo!”

The two of you laugh together, his breath fanning you as he buries his head in the crook of your neck. The two of you stay like that for mere seconds but it feels like an eternity. He made you cum, but still, you crave him. You want more of him.

“That was actually really hot.” You feel him grin against your neck. “You forgetting my name. It kinda made me feel good. Really good.”

“I could… I could make you feel better,” you whisper, wrapping your hands around his back, using your fingernails to tickle his skin. He flushes.

“Is that so?” He leans down and pecks your lips. “‘Cause I wasn’t done with you. I wanna see if I can make you say all seven reindeers’ names.”

“Oh, fuck you!”

He quirks a brow. “You wanna?”

...Desperately. “Yes.”

Sero’s all too quick to free himself of his sweats and you side him by pulling his boxers down. You gulp at the sight of his erection; it’s a nice size with a beautiful curve, pre-cum already seeping out through the slit of his reddened head. You look to him and bite your lips. You grasp at the base of his length and guide his cockhead to to your mouth, pulling you tongue out to lick at his knob.

“Ahh~, um, I’m really-“

“Sensitive?” You ask before lulling your tongue underneath his cock.

“Y-yess,” he hisses, grasping at your hair to pull you back.

You grin wryly back at him. “Then how’s this going to work?”

“With me in control-“ he smirks “-lay back princess.”

You pout at him but he moves to kiss your neck, gently pushing your shoulders down so you’re back on the cushions. You reach your hands up and arch your back, an obvious ploy to get him all the more hot and bothered, and not an unsuccessful one at that.

“God damn,” he breathes, stroking his cock while taking in your figure. “God, I lo—… I need to say something before we go any further.”

“Hmmm?” You run your hands down your body. You stop at your breasts, teasing your nipples, and biting your lips. “You can say anything to me.”

“Sweet Jesus, you’re not making this easy.” He sighs and falls over you. A hand cups your face, his thumb tracing the curve of your lips. It looks like he’s eating to say something serious, but you can hardly think straight with his hardened dick resting against your thigh.

“This,” he says, stroking the back of his hand against your cheek, “can’t be… I can’t be just a rebound for you. I know I might not seem like it, but I’m an all or nothing kinda guy. You can either just be my friend—my really good friend that I’ll think about for all eternity, or you can be… my friend who I’m allowed to take on dates and kiss in public and have high make out sessions whenever we want…”

Oh! Oh he’s asking you out! You can’t help the grin from spreading across your face, but you don’t realize you’re not responding until he continues with—

“And if you’re not yet over that guy… I think I can wait for you, but I don’t… want to get my hopes up or anything…”

Sero your DICK is on my THIGH!

“Sero, you’re not a rebound. I would be very happy if you would take me on dates, kiss me in public, and have high make out sessions with me. I’d even be happy if I get to call you my boyfriend.”

He beams. “You mean that?”

“Yesss, I do. We were practically dating already!”

“Nahhh, I’ve just been warming you up. You don’t know dating until we’ve conquered the entire laser tag arena together.”

This dork. “Then I’ll wait for that with bated breath. Now, please for the love of god, fuck me before I explode!”

“Oho, we can’t have that…”

Sero lines himself up with center, allowing his cockhead to toy with your hot, needy entrance. He curses and rolls his head back as he inches himself forward, testing your heat before pulling out completely. His eyelids grow heavy when he pushes into you again and you feel yourself clamp down on him. You whimper. He feels bigger than he looks and it takes some pull before he’s completely inside you, but god, oh god, after you get used to it, you can’t help but moan as his dick slides in and out of you.

“Mmmphhhfuck, that’s good.” Slowly, Sero rolls his hips, gently fucking you at a near excruciating pace. He breathes through his teeth as his cock grinds into your walls. It feels fantastic having the head of his cock rubbing against the certain spot deep inside you. His arm wraps around your back and he pulls you flush against him, your breasts bouncing against his chest as he quickens the pace, kissing you fiercely, hungrily , while his hands lock you into place.

“You don’t know,” he seethes, “how long I’ve wanted this.”

He bites down in your neck and you claw at his back, mewling. The force, even though he’s taking his time, is addicting and you find yourself syncing up with him in no time; cursing, and panting as you sync up with him. He feels so good that you could cry, instead, you beg.

“More,” you sigh, practically his humping cock, “please Sero. I ahhh~ I need more!”

Sero growls and it sends you body spinning with lust and agony. He pushes you back down and forces himself to his hilt, making you cry out in sheer ecstasy. He presses his hand against your belly, pulls out and pushes back in with the same extremity. “More?” He growls in a sort of sensually dark tone that floods your body and shakes you to your core. “You want more, babe? I’ll give the princess anything she wants!”

“Fuuuck!” You cry, filling the room with pathetic moans as Sero drills into you with such indignant fury that it nearly makes your eyes go black. Your body grows wet with perspiration and lust, Sero pushing into you with pools of his own sweat meshing with yours.

He silences your pathetic moaning with a violent kiss, biting down on your bottom lip while he greedily paws at your breasts. Then, he stills completely, pulling back, fanning your face while he pants, “ho ho ho, amiright?”

“PFFFFT NOOO!!” Your belly clenches as the two of you bust out laughing, until Sero eyes completely glaze over.

“Ohhhh fuck,” he groans. “Keep laughing, that feels so—ohhhhh fuck!”

Something completely takes him over and you laughter turns to screams of delight when he starts completely pulverizing you with such an intense, bruising velocity that you could see your soul escape your mouth. He slams into you, lifting your leg over his head, keeping his quick and relentless pace until you feel his cock begin to throb.

“You’re. Just. So. Fucking. Hot!” he says through gritted teeth. His fingers quickly dance around your clit, rubbing at your pleasure until you feel yourself coil and your cunt flutters around his girth. “God, I can feel it. You’re close. Fuck! Babe, you need to cum. Princess, please, I can’t-!”

“I’m ~nggg~ so close!!”

Sero kisses you, shoving his tongue against yours, urgently needing to taste you. His dick twitches within you, his fingers desperately trying to get you to keep up. Your hair stands up on the back of your neck. Your coil breaks. You clench around him and allow waves of pleasure to burst through you as he rams into you with rigorous intent. You cling on to him, crying out about how good he feels, how you can’t stand not having him fill you up, how you want to feel his everything deep, deep inside of you.

Sero grunts and ruts into you. Warmth floods your core as thick ropes of cum line your hungry walls. There’s so much and it doesn’t seem to stop coming as he slows his grooving, kissing your forehead while his orgasm chases yours. You breathe in sync with one another, staring each other in the eyes, unsure of what to say, what to do, before he finally pulls out and let’s you leak onto the cushions.

“Oh, whoops,” he says, inspecting the mess. “Lemme just— warm towel…”

He hops up, but you grab him by the wrist and pull him down into a kiss. He grins against you and you feel yourself growing jubilant with everything that just happened.

“You’re incredible,” you say, holding him there for a moment before letting him back up.

“No, you.”

“Pfft!”

“I mean it!” He brings his hands up in mock defense. “You have no idea! You have no idea! I just-! Lemme get a towel and then I’ll shower you with praise!”

Sero is gone and back in a flash, warmed wet towel in hand. He takes his time wiping the sweat off your body, making sure to talk uncharacteristically sweet to you while he takes care. He wraps you in the blanket that hath forsaken him and cleans the white mess on the cushion before joining you under said blanket. His body is warmer than the blanket and you love it.

“Sooo… the movie. Movie night with my girlfriend!”

“Ha! That’s right! This is one of my favorite movies so you better pay attention! No distractions!”

“Mhmmm,” he hums half-heartedly. “No distractions.”

But even while the movie plays, your warm bodies are pressed right up against each other. There’s definitely going to be more distractions. The two of you have been waiting for this for too long, and Sero has to prove that he’s not just alright, and he certainly wants to learn all about your secret Christmas kink.

TAGS FOR EVERYTHING: @ayeputita @yandere-inamorata @dee-madwriter @unboundbnha @rizamendoza808, @rubycubix @smbody-stole-mycar-radio @zellllyyyy @sarcastictextstuck @kpanime @captain-sin-allmight-queen @psionicsnow @wickedlewicked @ghost-of-todoroki @kattariapenn @im-an-adult-sometimes @bnhya @local-senpai @eggpienutbuttercroissant @usernamekate94 @reyvenclaww @hi-ho-and-hello @rubyred-imagines

#sero x reader #bnha x reader #hanta x reader #Hanta Sero x reader #Sero hanta x reader #reader insert #bnha reader insert #mha x reader #hanta sero imagine #bnha imagine #bnha imagines #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

1K notes · View notes