#If I ever think too hard about Patriot I need to go lay in the dark for awhile | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago

Text

Bent, not broken 3

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; violence; injury; blood; fingering, mean Steve

This is a dark!fic and features the winter soldier and Captain Hydra x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: An attack leads to the uncovering of decades old secrets when you are taken by the deadliest assassin in the world

Note: Here’s part 3. Right now I’m bouncing between things but open to suggestion for the upcoming week for ongoing series. (I’ll likely just add onto my Lee fic).

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The days passed like a pendulum, swinging between paranoia and suffocating tension. You felt like an animal caught and caged. Much of your time was spent in that room, abed and alone. Your only contact was when Steve brought you your meals but the soldat did not appear again. You were relieved not to have the silent watchdog around but it also made you uneasy.

The pain dulled. Your shoulder loosened up first and no longer sent a jolt down your arm every time you moved. Your ribs were another issue and even as the agony was less intense and consuming, the echo of the injury remained. You felt brittle as if one wrong move would break you completely.

Then, when the pain was not so strong to distract you, you grew restless. The walls seemed closer together and the meals further apart. Steve’s appearances were brief and mostly wordless. He’d linger to check on your injury or bark at you to eat, but he wasn’t as talkative as your first day in the hideaway.

There was little for you to do. You were left with a copy of War and Peace and the tight font often left your eyes fuzzy and fatigued, your mind as well. There was a booth hidden behind the narrow door and you washed when you felt up to it, the water ice cold. You spent much of your time staring at the ceiling, wishing it would collapse on you.

You weren’t stupid. You knew it was all methodical. The indifferent isolation. You were being conditioned like a dog with a bell and it was working. You longed for any contact, any company, and conversation.

That day, the door opened but you didn’t move. You laid with your head on the pillow, arms crossed, and one leg over the other. Steve placed the metal bowl on the nightstand and sighed as he stood by the bed. You felt him watching you as you ignored him for the pale white above.

“Sit up and eat,” he said.

You glanced at him. The scar through his eye wrinkled as he grimaced and tapped his fingers on the table. You shrugged at him and sighed.

“I’m not hungry,” you said.

“Eat,” he repeated.

“I will,” you relented, “when I feel like it.”

“Now,” he grabbed the bowl and put it over your chest, “come on.”

You rolled your eyes and sat up and took the bowl. His eyes clung to you as you bent your legs and stirred the thick oats. The goopy mixture made a gross noise as you did.

“You don’t like it?” he said.

“Bland,” you took a bite, “doesn’t matter.”

“You’re right, it doesn’t,” he rebuked, “you better be done by the time I return.”

You looked at him as he turned away and headed for the door abruptly. You choked down the thick porridge and took another bite. You were hungry but the pasty oatmeal went down like rocks.

When he came back, you scooped up the last mouthful and put the bowl aside. He neared and draped a lilac dress by your legs. You stared at it then looked him in the face. His expression was as impenetrable as the mountain compound.

“What is that?” you asked dully.

“Don’t be stupid and put it on,” he put his hand on his hip, “I’d say it’s a bit more fitting than that prison uniform.”

“Is it?” you grumbled as you tentatively reached for the purple fabric.

“Or you can go naked,” he reached out and jabbed your shoulder.

“Fine,” you turned your legs over the bed and watched him expectantly.

He raised a brow and waited. You shied away at his unflinching stare and swiped up the dress. You crawled to the other side and kept your back to him. You took off the shapeless shirt and dropped it behind you. You pulled on the dress and stood, pushing down the baggy bottoms. The dress floated at mid thigh and left you feeling exposed.

“Your ribs are healing,” he remarked, “you should be able to take the bandage off.”

You faced him as he went to the foot of the bed. He waved you over and continued to the door.

“Should get the kinks out,” he said as he set his thumb in the sensor and the metal slid up, “a proper tour is in order.”

You neared as he turned and waited for you to precede him. As you passed, his eyes slipped down your body and he tilted his head. You looked away quickly and carried on into the hallway. There was little point resisting a man who could break you in two with his pinky, especially in your state.

“Looks good,” he said as he followed you out and came up arm to arm with you, “you know, you, me, the soldier, we’re the only ones who know about this place. Not that you know much, huh?”

“I don’t like games,” you retorted, “I’m… tired. Please, don’t--”

“I found this place in 1955,” he led you along the shining halls, “it’s had a facelift since then. A hobby on the side. Used to be Stalin’s hideout, akin to Hitler’s bunker if anything ever went south. When he died, the co-ordinates were lost. They sent me out to find it…”

“They? Hydra? Why--”

“Because the other guys didn’t care,” Steve said, “I saw how they celebrated my death as some patriotic feat. Like I was just a shield. You know, the ‘bad guys’, at least they don’t try to lie about what you are. They use you exactly like they need to and don’t sugar coat it.”

“And your… friend… you like how they use him?”

Steve stopped short and caught your arm, “it’s best for him. He couldn’t handle a clear mind. We keep each other safe, like we always did.”

“Mmm,” you hummed.

“As I was saying,” he nudged you onward, “I gave them a fake map and all they found was a demolished bunker. It kept them happy and me too. I got a place to lay low. Place of my own.”

You turned down the next hall. You were quiet as he led you along, past that room with the bar and around another corner. You lost sense of direction as he took you deeper into the hideaway. You came into a large corridor with a glass wall that overlooked a mountain pass without. You were breathless as you stopped to peer through.

“He’ll hurt you again,” Steve said bluntly, “we both know that.”

“Then why keep me here? You can let me go. I wouldn’t say a word, I wouldn’t even know what to say--”

“And why would I do that?” he asked blithely as he admired the deep drop and jagged offshoots.

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“It’s much more fun to keep you,” he chuckled, “and he wanted you so taking you away won’t do shit.”

“I don’t--”

He raised his finger and hushed you. He squinted as he listened but you didn’t hear anything but the winds on the other side of the glass. Steve’s mouth slanted and he stepped past you. You turned to the end of the corridor and heard a soft padding that grew to a tremulous stomp.

“Speak of the devil,” Steve taunted, “sounds like a rough mission.”

When the soldier emerged from the next hall, you gasped. His face was a smear of grit and blood, his locks dangling and slick around his mask. His gear was torn and gashed in places and his metal fist clenched as the plates of his arm bore even more scratches than before.

He stopped and his eyes dilated as he saw you. Steve went to him calmly and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, you’re back,” he said softly, “snap out of it.”

He tapped the mask so the soldat looked at him instead. Their eyes met as the soldier’s chest puffed and slowed. Steve’s other hand went to his chest, just over his heart. The captain leaned in and kissed his temple, issuing a whisper you could not hear.

You were too shocked and confused to do more than watch. Steve gripped Bucky’s jaw and turned his gaze onto you. He smirked as he held him.

“Look at her,” he slithered, “isn’t that what you wanted? A pretty little plaything.”

The soldat didn’t move, just stared.

“She’s all ready for you,” Steve let go and clapped his chest, “isn’t that a nice dress, huh? A nice peek of her legs… don’t you want to know what’s underneath? Don’t you want to touch it?”

You took a step back as goose bumps rose on your skin. Steve released him and snickered. The soldat brought one boot down and then the next, marching slowly towards you.

“Let’s have some fun,” Steve boomed and his eyes narrowed over Bucky’s soldier, “soldat, engage.”

His next step came down quicker and you spun on your heel. Without thinking, you dashed away in a blur of terror. You could hear him behind you, the heavy soles thunderous against the slap of your bare feet. You got around the next corner and your ribs throbbed painfully as your lungs burned.

You peeked over your shoulder. He wasn’t running, he was walking. A mock of a chase as he kept within sight even as you raced on. Your heart pounded in your ears and your legs felt like jelly. It was so long since you did more than pace your room or lay in bed.

You stumbled deep in the maze, all recollection of the path Steve led you on gone. You hit your knees on the hard floor and hissed. You had only a moment to gulp down air before you were seized by the back of your neck. You staggered as you were spun and your back collided with the cold wall.

The soldier’s metal hand was quick to grasp your throat and push your chin up as he held you on tiptoes. You clawed at his fingers as his other hand crept up your thigh. Your eyes watered as it felt like a vice was wrapped around your neck and chest. You quivered as the skirt caught on his hand and slowly rose with his touch.

You squeezed your thighs around his fingers and he poked you so harshly you whimpered. Your legs parted for him and he pushed against your bare cunt. You clung to his wrist as your other hand slapped at his bicep. His blue eyes focused on your skirt as he delved between your folds.

Your feet arched as you tried not to slip and your calves cramped. You whined through your teeth as he turned his hand and pressed the heel of his palm to your clit. He bent his finger into you and drew a pathetic yipe from you. He felt around inside and added another, eliciting another tremulous yelp.

“Pl.. please,” you rasped, “don’t… you don’t want to…” his eyes flicked up and met yours.

He paused as he gazed back at you and you squirmed. He hesitated and for a moment, it felt like he might drop you. Another set of footsteps approached evenly and Steve tutted as he came upon the scene.

“You shouldn’t play with your food,” he said, “go on. You know what you want to do. It’s why you took her.”

You choked as his fingers tightened and he buried himself to his knuckles, his hand firm to your clit. He rocked his hand and your body, every tilt sending a jolt through you. Your walls were scoured by his intrusion and your core thrummed at the distant stirring of instinct.

“Please…” you cried.

“Shhh,” Steve came closer and leaned on the wall next to you, “we don’t want him to break something else.”

“Wh-why--” you coughed.

“Faster,” Steve snarled, “make her feel it.”

The soldier lifted you off your feet with each dip of his fingers. You slapped your hand against the wall and reached for the captain. He swatted your hand away and backed up as he watched you. He rounded Bucky and peered at you from the other side and hummed. He sucked his teeth and came closer, his hand on the soldier’s shoulder.

“More,” he urged.

You closed your eyes and shrieked as his hand sped up, slamming into you over and over as your thighs clamped around him. You gritted your teeth as your pulse raced and you were swept up in a sudden fit of dizziness. You felt fire flickering from his touch, building and building a spark at a time as your body rebelled.

“Look at her,” Steve purred, “so weak, so small. Nothing. She’s not like us, she’s just one of them.”

You groaned as your cunt made slick noises around Bucky’s fingers and his hot breath glossed over you. He leaned in and his hand moved so that his thumb pressed along your jaw painfully. You whined as you felt as if he’d crush the bone.

“She’s almost there,” Steve mused, “faster, yeah, like that.”

You wailed as you came, terrified of the man before you and the way your body bent to him. Your nails grazed down the leather across his chest and your hand dangled limply as you let the tide wash over you. He kept on until you could hardly breathe and dropped you suddenly. Your legs folded and you crashed to the floor.

You kept yourself from keeling over onto your face and pushed your back against the wall. You peeked up as Steve took Bucky’s hand and licked his glistening fingers. You cringed as he let go and his attention turned on you. He knelt and exhaled deeply as he smirked at you.

“You want to know why?” he blinked and his nose scrunched sardonically, “because I didn’t want this. I was happy. Just me and him. Decades and he decides to go out and catch a pet.”

“No, I…” you rubbed your throat as it burned.

“Him, I know, but it doesn’t hurt any less,” Steve scowled, “but we can make it work.” He reached to you and brushed his thumb over your cheek, “I can make use of you. Just the way you took his fingers, that look on your face…” he retracted his hand and leaned his elbow on his leg, “and he could use an outlet. Something to ease the tension.”

“You… and him?” you wondered aloud.

“It’s the twenty-first century, isn’t it?” Steve stood and slapped the soldier’s ass. He got a sharp look in response, “not that it ever really mattered.”

“It’s not… I just didn’t… realise,” you rasped.

“Mhmm,” Steve intoned, “you’re just innocent.”

“I didn’t--”

“Get her up,” he ordered, “take her to our room and get her cleaned up. You too. You smell.”

You flinched as the soldier grabbed your arm and forced you up. Your thighs quaked in the after shock and your core ached. He pulled you away from Steve and you limped beside him. You shivered as the cold air enshrined your hot flesh.

“No touching,” the captain warned, “not until I say so.”

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angywritesstuff · 4 years ago

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“Happy birthday Mr Evans”

Pairings: Chris Evans x reader

Summery: Chris thought that the best gift you ever gave him was saying yes to marrying him during Christmas three years ago. He never thought you could top that

Chris had always thought that the best gift you ever could have given him was saying yes to marrying him during Christmas three years ago. I mean how could you top that, right?

Wrong!

You had been able to top that last year during your anniversary when you had gifted him with a beautiful Patriots baby onesie with “Baby Evans” written on the back. Chris had been ecstatic: knowing you were pregnant with his child was the best gift ever. So yeah he was sure now: you couldn’t top that.

He had begged you not to get anything for his birthday: you were eight months long and he didn’t want you to exhaust yourself by looking for a birthday gift for him. Beside he didn’t need anything, he had everything he had always wanted: you had made sure of it.

Chris woke up the morning of his birthday and immediately looked for you, but you weren’t laying beside him: why were you not in bed? Why were you not in bed cuddling him the day of his birthday? You knew how much he liked smothering you and your bump as soon as he woke up.

Since you had told him you were pregnant, the first thing he did, right after kissing you good morning, was talking and showing his love to your baby bump. So why weren’t you there?

Chris lightly raised his head from his pillow and he noticed Dodger on his bed. Well that was even weirder: since you had been pregnant (even before you knew it) Dodger had been your personal bodyguard, he left your side only for his walks and even then Chris had to practically begged him to go out. Let’s say the dog would prefer when you decided to accompany them too. Chris was very proud of his buddy, it was clear he had taken his new big brother status very seriously.

So how come you had left the bed and Dodger hadn’t followed you?

“Dodge? Where is your mom?”- he asked the dog that looked at him whining a little, showing his evident displeasure about not knowing.

Chris was just about to get up and come looking for you when the bedroom door opened and he was left speechless.

You were in a new set of lingerie that not only flaunted your beautiful breast but also framed your beautiful baby bump.

Chris knew you were wearing it only for him and not only because it was his birthday but most of all because you had been very unsure about your body lately, even if he had never stopped telling and showing you how much he loved your body every day.

You had always been stunning and Chris had never been able to resist you, not even when Scott introduced you for the very first time (you two had ended up in bed together that day to Scott’s displeasure and Chris’ smugness) But since you were pregnant and in particular since you had started showing, Chris had almost gone insane with his need to have you.

Did it make him a caveman that rejoice in his efficiency in getting his woman pregnant? Maybe.

Did he care? Hell to the fuck not!

Anyway… you were stunning and Chris knew he was the luckiest man in the world.

You stood on the door just for another moment looking at him.

“Don’t you dare laugh at me, ok?”- you warned him

“Of all the things I’m thinking about doing, laughing isn’t one of them, baby. I promise you”- he licked his lips. He wanted to devour you… well carefully devour you of course.

He wasn’t sure why you were so nervous, it couldn’t be only because of the lingerie, you should have noticed how positively affected he was by you right now. And by positive affected he meant he was painfully hard.

“Baby, are you-” you shushed him before he could finish and cleared your throat and before he knew it you were singing to him and he was smiling like a crazy man. God… he loved you so much.

“Happy birthday Mr Evans… happy birthday to you”- you sensually sang while gently getting on the bed with him.

“You’re so beautiful baby”- he said once you had finished and were laying beside him.

“I’m ridiculous, I don’t even know why I thought it was a good idea. Who would want a whale to sing them happy birthday?”- you whined

“A sexy whale”- he laughed when you playfully smack him

“Come here. Let me show you how much I love you, you birthday man”- you said

You were so caught in Chris’s kisses and hands roaming all over your body that you almost didn’t notice.

“Chris”- you moaned while he was playing with your clit. And suddenly he stopped, his hand was no longer on you.

“Well I’m getting better and better it seems”- he smiled smug while looking at his wet hand

“Oh my god! Chris I didn’t come”- you didn’t know if you should laugh at him or smack him behind the head

“What?”- he was so confuse and so adorable

“Those were my waters, they broke”- you smiled

“What?”

“My waters just broke, baby”- you raised your eyebrow at him

“Oh my god, oh my god… your waters broke. Dodge mommy waters just broke… I’m becoming a daddy. Let’s go let’s go let’s go”- he said while jumping around the room. Dodger started barking and you couldn’t help yourself but laugh.

“You’re behaving like a four year old baby, not a forty years old man”

“Who cares! I’m going to be a daddy”- he said while helping you up.

The road to the hospital was mostly calm, your contractions weren’t fun but you couldn’t wait to meet your baby.

Only when you were on a wheelchair in the hospital you remember

“Oh my god baby, I totally forgot. There is a surprise birthday party for you tonight. I’m so sorry”- you were so crushed , you had spent so much time organizing the party for him and now he couldn’t even enjoy it

“Don’t worry once you’re set in your room, I’m gonna call Ma and Scott to tell them you’re having the baby and I’ll tell Scott to tell everybody else, ok?”- he gently caressed your cheek

“I’m so… uhhh… so sorry baby”- you scream while having another contraction.

Chris really didn’t know how you did it, you were so strong: it had almost been 8 hours of labor but at the end your baby was here and Chris couldn’t stop smiling.

“He’s so beautiful”- he said while looking at his son… he had a son

“Happy birthday Mr Evans… and happy birthday baby Evans”- you smiled while singing again…

And Chris almost cried.

He had always thought the best gift you had ever given him was saying yes to marrying him during Christmas three years ago, but you had proved him wrong two years later when you told him you were pregnant during your anniversary. He had been sure then you could never top that gift.

You proved him wrong once again during his 40th birthday when you gave him his son, with whom he now shared his birthday. It was perfect.

Author note: I wanted to write something for Chris’ birthday and I don’t know why I thought about my cousin’s son who last year was born the day of his dad’s birthday… I think it’s so cute they share a birthday now

Anyway… English is not my first language so I’m sorry if there are any mistakes… I’m pretty sure there is a part that’s not super clear but I don’t know how to fix it 😂

Like always FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS WELCOME AND APPRECIATED ❤️

Masterlist

#reader insert #no hate #rpf fanfic #rpf #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans #chris evans birthday celebration 2021 #happy birthday chris #pregnant reader

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years ago

Note

Prompt: Vampire Chris drunk on blood?

CW: Drunkenness, drug addiction, blood drinking, vampirism, creepy abusive comfort, WWI-period-appropriate xenophobia and brief vague possible homophobia reference, dehumanization, war whump

"Now, that'll get you blotto faster'n French liquor," Kirk says, sinking back against the muddy trench wall, careless for the dirt caking itself into the hair at the nape of his neck.

His helmet lay beside him upside down on the ground, and his brown hair was free to explode in its wealth of curls, a kind of halo around his head. He had one arm out, sleeve rolled back. His hands were caked in mud and smeared with drying dirt - above the line of his sleeve, though, the skin was paper-white, almost clammy.

It was this white skin that the vampire's fangs were buried in.

"Shit, Holden, y'gotta have 'im bite you, too." Kirk's grin widens. The shells had gone silent but every man flinches, now and then, hearing a phantom sound or feeling a rumble beneath their feet.

At least it's finally stopped goddamn raining.

The venom rolls through Kirk's veins, soothing his jangled nerves. He can barely feel the trembling in his hands and it feels like his mind, when it's in him. He's a farm kid from western Nebraska, the second son and not needed so much as the first to bring the crops in. So here he is, learning to love the feeling of teeth in his skin.

Maybe when he gets shipped back home he'll stick to the cities. They say the vampires have their dens there, where they can hide. You can buy venom enough to quiet your mind for a day or two, the city boys tell him.

They're in it as deep as he is, now.

Feels like half the American army is itching for venom these days.

"No thank you. I'm not gonna get sent home and start chasing fangs like the rest of you." Holden squints, looking up into the dark sky, the rolling clouds that seem far too close to the ground. "It'll rain again soon."

"When isn't it going to rain again soon? Oh, right, when it's already bloody raining." That's a Brit, they just call him Tommy. No one knows his real name.

He claims to hate them all, but since half his unit was blasted apart two days ago, he's hung with the 'Yanks' close enough. Kirk thinks he's fond of them, even if he won't admit it. Or just scared to be alone. He can understand that. He's terrified of the thought himself. "Shove the little vamp over to me, Kirk, I want some."

The vampire pulls his fangs free, licking over the wounds he's made until they close. He's a skinny little thing, pale as paper with bright red hair they stuff under his helmet when he's running medic checks in No Man's Land, trying to make him less obvious. Sure, he can't die from gas, but he can be blown to bits by a whizz-bang fast as any living soldier can.

"Please," The vampire says, turning big green eyes up to Kirk. "I, I, I'm tired, please, can I sleep?"

He's got heavy dark circles under his eyes. It's kind of cute.

"No," Kirk answers, curt, shoving the vampire away by his head, watching him fall into the mud. His uniform is marked with it, now, a dab of dirt over the 'V' sewn next to his medic's cross. There's a satisfaction, in Kirk, just in seeing the little thing laid low.

He won't die in this war, and Kirk probably will, but before that happens he can at least hurt something he can see. You can't see old Fritz when you fire on him from a distance - but you can see a vampire flinch in the dirt. It's not much.

It's something.

"Must be daytime," Holden speaks up, still staring up at the clouds. "You can't tell, weather like this, but if the fangs're tryin' to sleep, must be day."

"He sleeps when we're done with him, and not a moment before." Kirk's voice is a murmur, eyes half-closed. He's drifting in it, the way the venom dulls and deadens the eternal ache in his back and legs. The Germans could come roaring over the bags right this second and Kirk wouldn't give a damn at all. Let them kill him, at least he can go with venom in his veins, not as a basket case carried off the field. "Not a second before. Go on, bloodsucker. Get over to Tommy and help him get some shut-eye, huh?"

"I've been drinking all night, pulled some rations off someone," Tommy groans, rubbing his fingers at his temples. "It's done no good at all." It's a funny little gesture, so oddly normal and casual. Reminds Kirk of home.

His throat tries to close, homesickness bowling him over. The wish to return to his mother's worn smile, sit down to dinner and have her ask him about his day, when his problems revolved around the harvest and the hard backs of the pews in church-

He takes a breath, forcing it back, and gives the vampire a vicious kick in the ribs, listening to his high-pitched cry and how he curls around himself with a smile of his own.

Oh, he'll die, probably. The others from his town already have. But he can remind himself he's still alive, for now. One way or another. He can cause pain he can't feel himself, for once.

"I said get over to Tommy and smooth out his sharp bits, bloodfuck."

"Yes, um, y-yes, Kirk," The vampire says, pulling himself onto his hands and knees. His fingers are smashed into the mud deep enough to nearly disappear. If they could only get a few days of sunlight to dry out all this dirt, it wouldn't be such hell.

As it is, his socks've been damp for weeks, his boots feel like they're caging his feet in a swamp. He's worried about trenchfoot and trying not to think about it. He stole these boots off a dead German when his own started to fall apart, anyway.

He could've probably gotten new ones, but... it had felt good, taking something from Fritz after Fritz took so much from him.

Kirk tries not to remember that the German soldiers he fights have never caused him a single moment's harm on purpose. They're only fighting for the same reasons he is - because someone higher up who doesn't give a damn about them said to.

Kirk had been all gung-ho for the war until he'd been sent over here to fight it. All those articles in the newspapers, all the speeches given by men standing in town squares... it had all made it seem so patriotic.

They never tell you, Kirk thinks bitterly, that you'll be sent into a slaughterhouse. They don't tell you you'll spend your day breaking a vampire's fingers one by one just to watch them heal back into place and listen to his little cries.

Just to pass the time.

"Trade me your flask while the fangs takes care of you," Kirk says, and Tommy hands it over easy enough.

He watches Tommy grab the vampire by one arm and yank him over, vicious and violent, making the vampire boy cry out again. The sound is starting to grate on Kirk's nerves. It makes him sound too human. He hates being reminded that every vampire used to be a person.

He drinks whatever's in the Brit's flask, and it burns down his throat just the way he needs it to. Wipes out his worries, relaxes shoulders that seem always to be tensed up nearly to his chin.

His mama's a teetotaler, back in Nebraska. He'd been one, too, until the first bombardment. Now he drinks anything he could get his hands on, and the officers mostly looked the other way.

"Bite," Tommy orders. Kirk raises his eyebrows when Tommy doesn't roll up his sleeve but pushes the vampire's face instead towards his neck, turning his head to the side to bare it.

His eyes meet Kirk's, and he smiles, bitterly. "Works faster this way," He explains. Kirk just watches as the vampire's fangs glint in the eternal dim twilight, hesitating before they bury themselves in Tommy's skin.

The little monster's back arches, pressing them chest-to-chest. A low rumble comes from somewhere deep inside, the animal sound the vampire makes during a good feed. He doesn't do it much with the regular unit any longer, they mocked him for it and one day he stopped.

The vampire's throat works as he drinks, and Tommy's arm slides around the monster's thin shoulders, forcing him closer. He's nearly kissing his forehead, this way.

It's an embrace, and altogether more intimate of one than Kirk thought he'd ever see from the cold, standoffish Brit. He feels a blush creeping up his neck and his cheeks as Tommy lets his head fall back, groaning softly in a kind of contentment as the venom hits. The sound isn't quite like a groan at all, it's more like-

"Fucking hell, Tommy, are you an invert?"

"Invert suggests I give a damn what bites me," Tommy replies, without opening his eyes. His slurred speech deepens, goes slow. His hand curves around the vampire's shoulder, holding him tightly. "I'm after oblivion, lads. I don't care what parts the fangs have that give it to me."

"Fang-chaser," Holden says, good-naturedly. Clearly not bothered the way Kirk is. Maybe that's just his farmboy past talking, that he's even unsettled at all. Maybe Tommy's got a point - who cares what's between a vampire's legs if you're only interested in the damn thing's mouth in the first place? "Fucking fang-chaser, that's what you are. End up in a den getting your hips bit like Oscar Wilde."

"Who's Oscar Wilde?"

Holden laughs. "You should try reading a book or three sometime, Kirk."

"Sure, sure, whenever I get the damn time in-between running over this blasted nothing. In any case, Tommy's definitely a fang-chaser."

"Guilty as charged... just like you two." Tommy's hand slides up into the vampire's hair, gripping tight and gently pulling backwards. The vampire's fangs slide free, and it laps at the wounds, rapidly. Tommy groans again. Kirk finds himself unable to look away at the bob of Tommy's throat. How good does it feel, in the neck? He's never thought to try it. He thinks about it now. "Turn me in to face discipline for unnatural relations with the fangs and I'll do the same to you."

"Yeah, yeah, we got it. Fucking Limey bastard." There's no real animosity in Kirk's voice. He's too distracted, drunkenly considering the vampire boy's mouth. Wondering if he knows how to kiss. "You shared your liquor, I shared our bloodsucker, we're both of us in it to our necks."

"Not me," Holden says, innocent and pure as the driven snow. As if he weren't the one to give Kirk the idea to use the venom in the first place.

Kirk throws a clot of mud at him, which he dodges, laughing. They're all laughing, soon enough, except for the fangs.

The vampire lays there, his head pressed to Tommy's chest and forcibly held in place by his arm. His eyes are slightly wide, unfocused, and Kirk leans forward.

"What's this, then? What'd you do to the fangs, Tommy?"

"Hm? Nothing. Oh, I'm pissed as can be, do they feel the liquor in your blood?"

"I'm guessing they sure do. You drunk, fangs?"

The vampire's eyes drift over to Kirk, move too far to one side, come back again. He swallows, thickly. "I... I think I, I, I am," He says, and tries to push back against Tommy's chest, to free himself.

The Brit's arm crushes him back into place, his other hand moving up to run through the vampire boy's dirt red hair, petting him like one of the ambulance dogs. Kirk and Holden laugh at the vampire's weakness. "Stay right where you are," Tommy murmurs. "Or I'll run you through with my bayonet and let you squirm all day."

"Christ," Kirk says, blinking. "That's a bit rough, isn't it?"

"He's not alive, what does it matter?" Tommy lets out a bitter little laugh. "Might as well get a preview of our own ends, shouldn't we?"

"You two, maybe." Holden crawls into the dugout, the little bed-space, a kind of cave dug in underneath the upper layers of the trench. He lays down on his back, closing his eyes, hands behind his head. "I'm going to go back home and never think of you lot ever again."

"I pray every night to make it home," Kirk says, nodding along. "Not sure anyone's listening, but I got to try, don't I?"

"What happens to the fangs, anyway?" The Brit looks up, rocking a little back and forth. As if the bloodsucker were a baby needing soothing. The vampire boy has relaxed against him, the liquor-laced blood he drank lulling him into a complacent bonelessness. Kirk watches the vampire boy's fingers start to tap over the Brit's chest, a strange movement he's seen the boy do before in his few relaxed moments between the scream of the shells. He hums, low in his throat, tuneless.

"Huh?" Kirk blinks. "What d'you mean, what happens to him?"

"After the war's done. What are they gonna do with the bloodsuckers? Can't exactly pin a bloody ribbon for valor on them and send them on their way, now can they?"

"Nope. I don't know what happens. Maybe they'll just stake them all and have done with them."

The vampire shudders, giving a little whimper. Tommy leans down, lips moving against the vampire's hair. "Ssssshhhh. Not to worry, little fangs. War's not over just yet, now is it?"

"N-... no. Not, not, not, not yet." The vampire's eyes close, pink-tinged tears creating pale tracks in his dirty face. He's a sad drunk, then, Kirk figures.

Aren't they all, these days.

"Maybe you'll outlive us all, and make fools of us for keeping you." Tommy speaks with a patronizing affection, as mocking as it is tender, petting through the creature's hair still. It's... unsettling to watch. Kirk had figured the Brits and French probably killed all their vamps, since they were all disturbed by the sight of the vampire medics when the doughboys first arrived in Europe.

This, though... this makes it seem like Tommy's known a vampire or two himself, in his life. And he's sure as fuck not unfamiliar to what venom is good for outside of giving relief from agony to the injured.

Kirk frowns, thoughtful.

He's turned into a thoughtful drunk, too, thanks to this goddamn war. Sad and thoughtful. What a fucking waste.

"Sleep," Tommy says, almost gently, to the drunk little vampire. "I've got you. Sleep, little one."

The vampire's eyes slip closed. He doesn't breathe - there's no sense of his chest rising and falling. Kirk has to look away before the sense of wrongness, watching Tommy cuddle a corpse, makes him sick.

He takes a long, long draught from the flask, and relishes the burn that reminds him he's human, and alive.

His own eyes slip shut, and he prays for an hour or two of sleep before the next screaming shell bursts overhead.

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @insaneinthepaingame @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @pretty-face-breaker @endless-whump @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @doveotions @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @what-a-whump

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ilovejevsjeans · 4 years ago

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Daniel Ricciardo on his passion for combat sports, a walkout song and the time he asked Lewis Hamilton to ‘fight’

McLaren Formula One driver Daniel Ricciardo, who currently sits seventh in the driver standings heading into this weekend’s Spanish Grand Prix, is among the world’s best behind a steering wheel. But how would he fare if he swapped his racing gloves for boxing or MMA gloves?

“I’d love to do a charity boxing match or something just to feel that adrenaline of walking to a ring,” Ricciardo said. “It’s on my to-do list for sure. At school I had a few little fights but nothing crazy. Nothing I’d brag about here.”

Ricciardo says he learned the sport of boxing from a friend who fought as an amateur growing up. However in recent years his love of combat shifted more toward mixed martial arts, a sport that is “quite beautiful. It’s an art form and I was just taken by it.”

The Australian — who boasts 4.6 million followers on Instagram — rarely misses a fight night, whether that’s a small card or pay-per-view. Every Monday he gears up for multiple MMA podcasts to hear analysis on what just took place in the cage.

In an exclusive interview with The Athletic, Ricciardo opened up about his love for fighting, which driver would make the best opponent and why Lewis Hamilton turned down an opportunity to get in the ring against him.

You’re an avid fight fan. How did this passion for the sport start?

One of my best friends growing up, when he was growing up, he was doing amateur boxing and got very good at it. I was then doing my racing and he was doing his boxing. We were both on a bit of an unconventional path — both individual sports, not really the typical sports the kids at school were doing. We had that in common. Once I started taking my racing more seriously I began taking my fitness more seriously. So I started going to his gym to just train. I really enjoyed doing it. But the truth is — I don’t want to lie to anyone. I’m not a fighter. As much as I would picture beating the bully up at school, it’s not me. But I just fell in love with not only doing it but also watching it.

I enjoyed watching boxing but it was really when I got exposed to MMA … It just had me. It was back in 2011 when I started properly getting into it. It was the quickest sport I had ever been absorbed by. I was all in.

My whole YouTube feed is just all MMA shows, whether it’s press conferences, interviews, podcasts. It’s just full of MMA stuff. I’m a full nerd now.

Being in Australia and traveling a lot, are you forced to get up at weird times for fights?

The beauty was I was in LA when (Conor McGregor vs. Dustin Poirier 2) was on so it was prime time and I was happy. But normally in Europe, it’s 4 a.m. or 5 a.m., which isn’t as good. Any kind of sporting event that you look forward to, it’s always cool when it’s in the evening because you have all day to get ready and talk about it. If you wake up at 4 a.m. it’s like “ugh,” and then you’re straight into it so there’s not as much of a build-up. But it’s all good.

So do you still train at all?

No. To races, my trainer carries some pads and gloves just to stay a little sharp and change it up. If I’m getting my reflexes with some tennis balls, maybe I throw in a bit of a boxing combination or something. Again, I’m not saying I’m good or anything. But I just enjoy the whole movement part of it.

Boxing was cool and I enjoyed watching it growing up. But there was something with MMA where there’s just so many different disciplines and the matchups … as a contest it was so much more open and for that, exciting. I feel — I know it’s not always the case — you can kind of tell in boxing if someone is getting momentum, the advantage. It’s like “this guy is going to win the fight.” But in MMA, it’s like “this guy is winning standing but if this goes to the ground, it’s back to square one.” So I just loved it. I was really immersed by it all.

Did you have a particular fighter or fight that got you hooked early on?

One of the first events I watched was UFC 116. Chris Leben was on the card and I think he was losing the fight. And then he got a triangle with probably 20 seconds to go in the third round, so that was really exciting. Stephan Bonnar was also on that card and he got a really cool finish on “The Polish Experiment” Krzysztof Soszynski. That was a card for me where I was very taken from that. Then I discovered “The Ultimate Fighter.” I just binge-watched all of those (seasons).

In terms of fighters, Leben was a character, I liked him. Carlos Condit. I’d say Condit and Cub Swanson were two guys I got behind early on. Condit, I love his style and the way he carries himself.

Have you been to a lot of cards in person?

The very first one I did was the best for me personally. To this day, it’s my favorite sporting event I’ve ever been to: (Conor) McGregor-(Chad) Mendes. Vegas in July 2015. Obviously McGregor, but he wasn’t yet a champion and still kind of on the rise. It was the energy and atmosphere. It was just wild.

The whole event too. (Robbie) Lawler-(Rory) MacDonald, which had the fight of the year. Every fight on the main card I think was a finish, so I got very lucky at my first event.

I’ve done (Michael) Bisping-(Anderson) Silva in the UK. That was a great contest as well.

There are a lot of great fighters from Australia and New Zealand like Israel Adesanya, Alexander Volkanovski and Robert Whittaker. Have you had a chance to meet any of them?

I haven’t met them. A couple of them I’ve had interactions with on social media. But I love Whittaker, obviously Volkanovski is killing it. I’m fairly patriotic to the Aussie fighters. If they are fighting, 99 percent of the time I’ll be supporting them. But one of my good buddies is roommates with Luke Rockhold, so I got to know Luke the last couple of years. I was trying to do some training over Christmas with him but it didn’t end up working out.

I know you’re a big shoey guy. What do you think of Tai Tuivasa doing it after wins?

I’ve had a bit of contact with Tuivasa as well. It’s obviously great. But one thing I can’t get behind is spitting. That’s a little extra.

Plus he’ll grab some random fan’s shoe.

He definitely takes it to the next level. It’s cool that — as disgusting as it is — we have some traditions like this.

Shifting a bit to F1, have you ever gotten into any big fights on the track? What was the worst fight you’ve gotten in?

Earlier in go-karting there was a bit more. Unfortunately in F1, I guess because you’re on the world’s stage, even if you push someone you probably are going to get a fine or get penalized. At times it’s a little too clean. But I’m still waiting for the day that someone confronts me and I just lay them out (laughs).

You also just seem a lot more laid back than a lot of other drivers, so you’d probably not be my first choice of someone getting into a fight soon.

I’m all talk, it would be nice obviously to not have to fight anyone. But no one would expect it from me. Even when I tell people I’m a fight fan, people are like “oh really? You’re into that? You seem too nice to like that.”

But to get where I have in the sport, you need a bit of a killer streak in you. I do have it, but don’t always show it.

What other driver would make the best fighter?

I know some guys have done — for fitness — hit some pads. Randomly, he doesn’t have a seat this year, but Daniil Kvyat started doing quite a lot of boxing last year for his training. I saw a few clips and it started to look like he knew what he was doing. I would say he would be the guy who has the most idea. I’d put him and myself up there. The rest I don’t think stand a chance.

So if you had a charity event, you don’t have anyone in particular you’d want to go against?

To be honest, I actually asked Lewis Hamilton. At the beginning of 2016, he posted a video on his Instagram hitting pads. I was as well at the time, so I was like “hey, let’s do a charity fight.” I asked him in person. But he didn’t bite on that one so I was a little sad.

I might re-ask the question.

What about Max Verstappen? For people who watched the first season of the F1 show “Drive to Survive” on Netflix, I’m sure they would love to see you guys throw down at some point.

That would have been cool as well (laughs). Max would be a good competitor in the ring. The way he drives, he’s quite stubborn. He’d be a hard guy to put away. He’s probably the guy that you’d choke him and he’s going to sleep and not tapping. That would make an interesting one.

In contrast, is there an MMA fighter you’d like to race on the track?

An obvious one would be Conor McGregor. To hear in his Irish accent all kinds of things, that would make pretty good television. And he loves his cars. It’s obvious, but that would probably be the best.

How often would you say you watch fights now? Not just PPVs, right?

Unless I have something like work or another commitment, I’m watching it every week. Mondays I’m getting ready for every podcast. I sound like a real nerd but it’s just an addiction. I love it. Anyone doing that for Formula 1, I’d be like “you’re such a nerd,” but here I am doing it with MMA.

Is it hard to follow everything during the race season?

If I can’t see it live, then 100 percent I’m going to watch the replay or buy it later. But it’s also a good escape. If I’m traveling and I’m in between races, to get my mind away from my competition, I like to watch it. I also try to pick up things as well. Whether it’s from a mental point of view … I’ll look at the walkouts and how they are behaving. I try to figure out if they are really as calm and collected as they are portraying or if it’s a bit of a facade. I’m trying to work out what I can use in my events.

Do you have a walkout song prepared if you were to fight?

I’ve thought about it. The short answer is no. You typically have to have something heavy and fast, but I fell in love with Chris Weidman’s “Won’t Back Down.” It’s not typically a song that will pump you up but it’s so iconic and now it’s his, it’s very fitting.

I’d go for something more lyrically powerful as opposed to instrumental. I loved Max Holloway’s, I think it’s called Mount Everest (by Labrinth). (X)

#hopefully this is the right one anon #daniel ricciardo #dan #interviews

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troubatrain · 4 years ago

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afterglow - k. hayes

a/n: a repost from my old blog!

You were having the day from hell. You were late for a work meeting, which only ended in being berated by your boss for the third time this week. You were positive she was just trying to push you to quit, which is just wonderful. You’d barely been working there a year, and the thing that you sacrificed for that job was one of the hardest decisions you’d ever made. Then, in true New York City fashion, you were six blocks from a subway station and it started to downpour on your walk home. You finally walk into your apartment, kicking off your now soaked beyond belief heels, walking into your kitchen immediately and grabbing a bottle of wine out of your fridge. You sigh, pouring it and taking it into your bedroom.

The worst part of your day was still looming. You pull out a box, filled to the brim with the memories of your past relationship. You called Kevin a week ago, after running into Mika at the Starbucks a few blocks away from MSG. You remembered you had a box with his, and you offered it to him when he came to play the Rangers. You didn’t think you would even get an answer, and you knew Kevin left things everywhere and he’d just replace them like it never happened. You couldn’t even remember how many ties of his would go missing by the time he would come back from a road trip. But, Kevin answered that he would swing by and grab them after his flight landed. You hadn’t seen Kevin since the night you kicked him out of your apartment, far too livid at him to form words.

February 25, 2018

You were on edge all day. Kevin had mentioned to you when you started dating that he might not be in New York all season. You both decided to ignore that, pretending like it wasn’t happening until it was. You had only been seeing each other for a few months, but with Kevin, you knew it would be him forever.

You stared at the TV in shock, mouth hanging open at the news.

Kevin Hayes traded to the Winnipeg Jets

You didn’t care what the Rangers had gotten in return, you didn’t care about how far away Winnipeg was, you cared that your entire world was just torn apart. You hadn’t been dating long at the time, a mere six months, which put you in a bizarre position about what the future would hold for the two of you. You sat in your apartment in the West Village, waiting for Kevin to make the short trip from Chelsea.

“Babe?” You hear him unlock the door with the key you’d given him a month ago.

“You’re leaving,” You whisper lowly, not wanting to admit to yourself.

“Y/N, it’s going to be okay, we’ll work it out. You can come with me, in the off-season I’ll sign a new deal and we’ll start making a new home for ourselves,” Kevin says softly, baby blue eyes looking into yours as he kneels in front of you on the couch to get eye-level with you.

“Kev I can’t just pick up and leave, I have work and a life here,” You tried to explain, you’d moved to New York when you were 18 and headed to NYU, bright eyed and full of hope, and stayed after graduation, building a career for yourself in the city. You loved New York, the culture, the atmosphere, and on most nights the people. You’d just taken your dream job, and you weren’t in any position to give it up.

“I can take care of you, come September we’ll be able to settle down somewhere else,” Kevin whispers, resting his large hand on your thigh.

“I don’t want that Kev!” You shout, not realizing your voice had risen, “I did all of this on my own, I’m not going to let you just take care of me, you know that.”

“Y/N what am I supposed to do? This my job, I don’t have a choice, I told you this might happen,” Kevin shouts back.

He was right, he told you after your first date that he wasn’t sure if he would even be a Ranger for the rest of the season. His contract was going to expire and the team was in a rebuild, he knew if he had a good season he would be gone by the deadline.

“Kevin, I’m not that girl,” You start, you were upset and you were lashing out at Kevin for even asking you to leave New York, “I’m not going to follow you around and give my dreams for your job.”

“I’ve never asked you to be,” Kevin shouts back, “Can you be the kind of girl who’s there for me?”

“I’m sure you can find her in Winnipeg,” You deadpan, crossing your arms at him. It was the first time you’d ever fought, and most definitely the first time Kevin’s ever raised his voice at you. His face was red, veins popping out of his neck. He was mad, and you were mad that he couldn’t understand where you were coming from. Kevin was more traditional than you, and while it made him a gentleman, it made it hard for him to get that you liked to work.

“You want me to go off to Winnipeg and find another girl?” Kevin asks, his tone harsh, “It would make road trips fun again.”

His last words were muttered under his breath, but that didn’t mean you didn’t hear them. The second the words slipped out of his mouth, you both went silent. His sentence rocked your world. You never thought Kevin would cheat on you, he’d always made it clear to you that he was yours and you were his. But, the way the words fell out so easily made your skin crawl. You wanted to scream, cry, and fight with him for the next day - but you weren’t being given that time.

“Kevin, just go, I’m sure you need to pack,” You say, tears threatening to spill.

He stands in the doorway, debating whether or not to leave, he looks at you defeated and walks out of your apartment. You sat on the floor of your apartment that night, tears flooding out of your eyes while you wore Kevin’s too big Red Sox hoodie that you loved so much.

You wipe a little dust off the box, it's been almost a year since that night. You’d seen Kevin, on the internet at least, not being able to stop yourself from Instagram stalking your ex-boyfriend. You unfollowed all of his friends, and most of his family - only following his sister just because you liked to see pictures of his niece. Which was fine, until she posted a video of Kevin trying to braid her hair when they headed to Winnipeg to visit, and you cried in the bathroom at work. You opened it, trying to even remember what was inside.

You pulled out a few of his hoodies, because his clothes were always thrown around your apartment. You laugh, pulling out the Patriots hoodie you’d borrowed after the first night you crashed in his apartment. You wore it on the walk back, ignoring hollers about the sports team on your chest while you weaved through the streets of Manhattan while you took a walk of shame back to your place. You hold the gray fabric in your hands, remembering the way it felt - soft like Kevin always was with you. You pull out a couple of his beanies, remember how many he would leave at your house and then just buy another because he forgot about it. You pulled out a few ticket stubs, random concerts you’d both been to that you tossed in there when you broke up. Then you hit the two small velvet boxes that you never stopped thinking about.

You pulled out the first box, opening it to reveal the necklace Kevin had gotten you for Christmas. It was so perfect, you were positive Brady’s girlfriend had to have helped him pick it out. You only tried to wear it once after you broke up, but the memories that flooded back when you put it on was too much. Then there was the other box. Kevin had gotten you the most beautiful ring you’d ever seen in your life for your birthday. He claimed it didn’t mean anything, but when his eyes sparkled when you slipped it on your left hand, to try it on in the restaurant you were in, you thought it may mean more than he was leading on. It was your favorite piece of jewelry, the ring was dainty and small just the way you liked it. You were surprised Kevin even picked it out, considering he lived by the motto that the bigger the better, but he told you he knew you needed it when he saw it in a shop window on a roadtrip in Chicago. You drop the box, hoping maybe he would give it to someone else one day, if there wasn't someone else already.

You hear your someone try to buzz into your building and you knew it had to be Kevin. You carry the box with you in the living room, buzzing him in and dropping it on the island in your kitchen. You sigh, hearing his heavy footsteps come down the door, opening it and letting himself in.

“Hey,” You say, your voice small.

“Hey,” Kevin breathes out, you were both nervous which you guess could be a good thing. He looked different, his hair was a little longer and his beard a little fuller.

Suddenly, as if the universe decided to lay it all on you today, the power in your apartment shuts out, a loud crash of thunder following. You jump, feeling Kevin’s large hands on your shoulders when you do.

“Fuck, give me a minute,” You mutter, running into your room to grab some candles. You spread them around your apartment, lighting them until your apartment wasn’t completely dark.

“All of downtown is in a blackout,” Kevin says, reading the news on his phone, “Like all of it.”

You bite your lip, debating your options. You shouldn’t let Kevin go back out in this weather, and with no power on one half of Manhattan, it wasn’t a great idea.

“You should stay, til this all blows over,” You offer, gesturing to your island where the box sat.

“That’s my stuff?” Kevin asks, opening the box and smiling at the contents. You watch them sift through the box, a wide smile on his face that could barely make out in the glow of the candles that littered your apartment. His hands gripped the same velvet box you dropped in just before he arrived.

“You should keep these,” Kevin says, “They were gifts.”

“Give them to someone else one day,” You whisper, sitting on your counter while you watched him, “That’s what you wanted right?”

You didn’t realize the words came out of your mouth. You’d been harboring this feeling of resentment for so long, your entire world was crushed in a matter of a night and you just wanted some closure. You thought you could get it by just giving him his stuff back, but it still wasn’t enough.

“I didn’t want that,” Kevin says back, “You said it first!”

“You asked me to be someone I wasn’t Kevin,” You say, your voice rising, “That wasn’t fair to me!”

“It wasn’t fair to me that I had to leave, but I did,” Kevin shouts, “And all I wanted was for you to come with me, because I love you.”

“Do you think that it was fucking easy to let you go? Or that I didn’t spend months of my life regretting it? Because I did,” You yell, tears welling up in your eyes, “Congrats Kevin you win, I was fucking miserable without you and the reason I stayed in New York isn’t working out.”

You stomp into your room, slamming the door and sliding down it. You finally just let yourself cry. About that fucking night. About losing the love of your life for some job that isn’t working out. About ruining your own happiness because you could just compromise once. Kevin knocked lightly on the other side, finally giving up after what was probably his hundredth time, sliding down the other side of your bedroom door.

“It was really lonely up there” Kevin whispers, loud enough for you to hear through the door, “In Winnipeg.”

Kevin talked for an hour. He talked about Winnipeg, how no matter what he did he couldn’t stop thinking about you. How he wishes you could have been there. He talked about his summer in Boston, mentioning how his sister got married and he wished you were there. He talked about how his mom asked about you all summer, but he just kept brushing it off because he couldn’t tell her it was his fault. Which leads up to now, where he is finally getting to the new city he set roots in.

“-I like Philly,” Kevin whispers, “You would too, everyone there is great. You’d love my teammates, and they’d love you.”

“Kev?” You finally say, your voice still trembling, “What happened to us?”

“I don’t know,” Kevin says back, his head tapping the door, “I didn’t mean what I said, I don’t know why I said it, but I didn’t mean it.”

“We were both upset, about everything,” You say back, standing up and opening the door, “I’m sorry for telling you to go find someone else.”

Kevin stands up, his hands finding both sides of your face to wipe away the stray tears that were left, “I’m never going to find someone else.”

“Kevin, I can’t pick up and run off with you,” You say, repeating the same thing you did a few months ago, “Just not right now.”

“Philly is barely three hours away,” Kevin counters, “I’m willing to do it if you are, because I can’t walk out of here without trying.”

You finally place your lips on his, soft and slow at first. But when your hands found the back of Kevin’s neck, playing with the hair that was starting to curl, you could feel him grunt into your mouth and you smiled against his lips because you knew it drove him crazy. That was the point, you knew everything about him because he was yours, and you were his.

#kevin hayes #kevin hayes imagine #my writing #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

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rebelcap · 4 years ago

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We are not just friends — 21

Chris Evans x bi!latina!character (Sofia is a people of color, she’s brown.)

Chris and Sofia meet when their best friends started dating, it all started at friends with loads of bumps on the road.

Masterlist

Chris was sitting on the couch, absently looking at the TV as he recalled last night.

" Come on," Chris quickly said when she hit the floor in front of him, he forgot for a moment there that she was obviously under the influence.

"I wanna go home," Sofia said as she grabbed her bottle from the floor and tried to take a sip but Chris took it off her hands and left it on the bench.

"You've got enough, let's go home." Chris said, sternly as she just pouted grabbing his hand and put it over her shoulders.

"I wanna see Dodger." she said, looking up at his face, he looked down, pretty glossy dark eyes and swollen full lips—God, he couldn't say no to her.

"Okay, sure," He whispered back and caressed her cheek and she leaned on his warm hand, closing his eyes for a second.

He drove her to his home as she insisted on holding his hand the whole trip.

"Chris?" She said standing from the couch and stumbling throughout the living room. She was drunk as hell and tired, little out of her mind. "Chris!?"

"Yeah?," He said walking out of the bedroom and she was standing, well, trying to. "You're drunk, come on." He said walking up to her and she shrugged.

"Just a little," Sofia said and as soon he was close enough she put her hands under his shirt, feeling his soft skin and looked up. "I know what I'm doing."

"Do you?" Chris asked, licking his lips. Sofia nodded and leaned on to kiss him.

"I missed you," She whispered against his lips as she pulled the hem of his shirt, Chris took it off. They kissed again, sloppy as they walked backwards towards the bedroom.

Sofia tripped with her own foot, again and Chris catched her. He knew that he shouldn't be doing anything with her, she was obviously drunk.

"We can't do this, Sof." He pursed his lips together as he put a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I know, I know," She sigh laying her forehead on his chest, feeling the ground spin under her feet. "what are we doing?"

"I don't know," Chris answered back, rubbing her back as he looked away. "Want me to drive you home?"

"You want me to… Go?" She asked, looking back at him, still holding each other in the middle of the bedroom.

Chris shook his head, "No."

"Okay," Sofia sighs and rubs her face again and looks at her hands, black spots from her makeup. "Ugh, do you have make up wipes?"

Chris chuckled and guided her to the bathroom, sat her down on the ample counter as she turned around to see herself in the mirror and gasp in horror.

"I look like absolute shit."

"You don't," Chris said as he looked on a cabinet and pulled out the wipes for her.

"Thanks," She murmured and looked at the wipes, noticing that they weren't hers. "This isn't mine."

"Yeah, those are… Jenny's," He rubbed the back of his neck and Sofia rolled her eyes at him and took one wipe and started cleaning her face, while she looked at him through the reflection of the mirror.

"I hate that you made me hate her," She pointed at him. "Because I liked her," Sofia said, throwing the wipe on the sink and grabbing another. "Now I can't fucking stand her," She murmured more to herself than Chris.

"If it's of any help, the feeling is mutual," Chris said and Slfia stopped mid-wipe to look at him from her shoulder.

"What do you mean?"

"I called her by your name a couple of times,"

"Ugh," She said, going back to wipe her face. "I would literally hit you if you called me Jenny." Sofia saw the smile forming on Chris's mouth and before he could ever mutter. "Don't you fucking dare." She pointed at him, a murderous look on her eyes and Chris chuckle raising his hands at her.

"I kinda wanted you to see you trying to hit me,"

"I'll slap what's left of your hair out of your skull. Don't try me," Sofia threw the other wipe away and jumped off the counter.

Chris was cackling like a fucking bird and she couldn't help but smile at his stupid ass titty grabbing while he laughed.

"I should be offended at your outburst of random violence," He said, giving her a side smile, still laughing. "But that's the funniest threat I've ever received." He started laughing again and Sofia pushed him and he grabbed by the arm and pulled her in.

"Stop laughing," She said rubbing her face on his chest like a cat, smiling.

"I'm sorry," Chris said cupping her face, looking at her eyes, nose, mouth and sigh. "I'm sorry," He whispered and kissed her forehead. "Let's get you something more comfortable, yes?"

"Yeah, okay…" She agreed standing in the middle of the bedroom, alone.

—

"Hey, you okay?" Scott asked his brother, because the Patriots were about to do a touchdown he didn't even react.

"Uhm?, yes—yes," He quickly said and put his attention back on the TV. His whole family was staring at him.

"Is this about Sofia?" Her mother asked him and he shuffled on the sofa and looked at his mother.

"Can I talk to you, ma?" He asked biting his finger, nervous and Lisa quickly got up and they walked to his room.

"Scott told me you two left together last night," Lisa said, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"Yeah, but nothing happened. I mean we kissed, she told me she loved me which was new, I know she does but it was different." He explained sitting down besides her mom. "And I told her that I bought her a ring,"

"A ring?," Lisa frowned as Chris looked at her. "An engagement ring?"

"Yes, ma." He bit his lip and looked down.

"That's new, you've never done that before…" Lisa pointed out and put a hand on his son's back. "you've given it a good thought?"

"Yes, I did. It just keeps popping up in my head and thinking of a future and… everything I've ever pictured with a woman it's with her. I've been infuriatingly in love with her for three years. Haven't stopped not once, I'm sure. I know she's difficult, it's hard and her wounds are still raw—but she's worthy."

Lisa had to smile, proud filling her chest at her son's words. Her little boy even thought that he was way past being a boy.

" I know you two push each other away all the time and I've been thinking that maybe you love each other so much and the fear that losing each other it's too much."

"I need her to trust me, if she doesn't trust me. It's never working out."

"Be her friend again." Lisa said rubbing Chris's back. "I think you should take things slow. If she's worthy, everything will sort out alone."

Chris thought that it was wonderful advice and it made sense, because all that she ever asked was…

Time.

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x latina!#chris evans x poc!reader #chris evans x ofc #chris evans x you #chris evans imagine

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taiyaki-choco · 4 years ago

Text

Moriarty the Patriot Headcanons

s/o who is from the 21st century

Author’s Note: this is written in female pronounce. I think I went too far, anyway please enjoy reading this headcanon!!

Upon opening your eyes, you saw a clear blue sky with warm sun rays bathing you. “Where am I?” You thought. “Is this a dream?” But is too true and too real to be a dream. Your hand brush through the green dewy grass, you brought up a hand to your eyes to block the sun rays and got up from the laying position. You looked around your surroundings, it seems like you are in a garden. Suddenly, there is someone approached you which startled you...

“Uhm... miss? Are you okay?” A tall blonde with ruby red eyes asked with a hint of concerned in his eyes.

He held out his hand to you like the gentleman he is, you stare at his hand a moment before you accepted it.

“May I ask are you lost?” He enquire but based on his observation skills it doesn’t seem like you are from the this timeline as your clothes differs a lot from what they wore.

You explained to him that you are from the 21st century and you somehow ended up waking up in the garden with no knowledge how you are transported here.

“Mmm.. I see, why not you come inside and talk about the details?” He offered. Well, is not like you have a choice since you have nowhere to go and you bet that nobody will believe you, they will think you as a weird or mentally ill person.

After explaining everything to him he then say “I apologise for not introducing myself earlier, I am William James Moriarty.”

Slowly, both of you began to converse and get to know each other more.

“It seems that a lot have changed where some are for the better while some for the worse.” He said having a deep thought about how everything is so different. I mean of course since there is a 100+ years gap.

After talking, William will introduce you to his his brothers. Both of them are quite shocked as William explained to them about your origin. Anyway, they still welcome you with a open heart since William trust you somehow.

At some point, you begin to catch up on what they are actually doing but you have no qualms regarding it as some nobles does deserved it. Since you are not even from the 19th century, you won’t do something stupid to land yourself in hot soup.

You may or may not get yourself involved into their plan. If you do, William will be really happy as someone even from the 21st century does share the same mind as him.

Of course, he will make sure that you won’t be doing something dangerous as he might have found some interest in you.

Well if you both do becoming a couple, both of his brothers will be happy for William as they know their brother do deserve some love. Or maybe a lot...

If you are home sick, don’t worry.. you still have him to give you comfort, you don’t know if you are able to go back or not but for now he will cherish you and help you through tough times as how you will do the same for him as well.

He might think that you are drunk and somehow landed in their manor’s garden.

Then he stop to look at you, the way you dress is weird.. “May I ask how you came into the garden?” He sounded quite harsh but his eyes shows a little concern as don’t you feel cold wearing that little??

You apologise profusely and told him about how you have no knowledge or any idea how you are transported here. You also told him that you are from the 21st century and ask him not to think you are crazy.

He look at you wide wide eyes, taking some time to absorb the information, he will believe you for now as you didn’t show any sign of lying.. he can’t read you as good as his brother but then he does know how to read people because of his past.

He felt sympathy towards you and brought you into the manor, he will let you meet his brothers and they will settle a plan on how to make up a story and do cover up for you to conceal the fact you are from the 21st century.

He might not open up to you at first but slowly he will greet you with a small smile when you wish him good morning.

You can help him with household chores so that it will lighten the burden that he held.

Have once, you offer him the treats that you bake and he is delighted. Slowly, he begin to fall for you because you just have such a kind heart and you do not know when to quit. There are so many times he pushed you away but you somehow able to get his attention.

He is just such a tsundere, please he is precious and protect the smile of his at all cost!!

Once he opened up to you, he will show his affections through actions rather than words by giving you some flowers or even make the desserts you like.

If both of you are a couple, his favourite thing to do with you is to bake together. You would have small talks and making jokes together. He just simply enjoy your company.

When you are sad because you miss your home, he will held you close to him and you will drown into his warmth. He will tell you that you are important to him and he definitely will comfort you.

He knows that it is difficult for you as well to stray home but for now please rely on him.

Well this is interesting... I mean not everyday you will meet someone who is not from your own era.

“Hello miss, if I may ask are you okay? Do you need any help?” His voice is so soothing you don’t think you would want to wake up. “Miss?” He asked again. You are so embarrassed to stare at him.

You told him that you are fine and asking where you were.

“You are in the Moriarty Manor, my name is Albert James Moriarty.” he introduced himself to you, he held out his hand waiting for you to take it.

“Well then, let’s head inside and talk over through tea?” He offered you. After a long explanation he finally understood how you are in the manor’s garden.

“If you don’t mind, why not stay here for the time being?”

He is interested on how the future looks like and like a curious child he will ask many questions like “how the people there are treated?”, “how the mode of transportation have changed?” or even shocked about certain facts.

Well since you are new about the way 19th century works, Albert will teach you what you should and shouldn’t do so that your identity are kept as a secret.

Some day he will bring you out for a walk in town, some people who knows him will think that you are his girlfriend.

“Albert-sama, is this your girlfriend? Such a lovely woman!” The florist that they used to buy flowers greeted him and compliment you at the same time.

You know how playful and a tease he is? Well he will smile and replied “Yes, she is. I’m so lucky to meet her.” You blushed so hard that you can be confused with a tomato.

When you are on the way home, Albert will tell you about what he said earlier is true. Throughout the times he helped you to adapt the 19th century he fall for you.

You will be tomato 2.0

He understand when have times you miss your home but fear not he will be there for you. If you want to cry, he will lend his shoulder for you.

He will spoil you with gifts, flowers and a fancy dinner. At times, you will be reading a book together and enjoy the warmth of each other.

Well his presence itself is imitating, he is just so... tall and big

You feel like you are looking at the Mount Everest.

He might be shocked to see you at first and looking at the weird way you dressed. When you are about to get up, he helped you by holding out his hand for a support which you accepted.

You proceed to ask him where are you which he answer “You are in Durham, England. In the garden of Moriarty manor.”

Looking at your devastated state he then asked “Are you lost?” Even though he is a womaniser he still care about your well being since 1. You have trespassed 2. Based on your clothes, you don’t look like you are from here.

He bought you to the outdoor wooden table and took a seat with you. “You looks like you are not from here, where are you from?” He said softly scared that he would frighten you.

You begin to talk out how you just woke up laying in the garden, you don’t have any proof to show that you are from the 21st century other than what you are currently wearing. He listen to you attentively.

After you have talked out everything, he saw Louis and William is walking towards his direction. Form afar, Louis thought Moran brought back a woman to the Moriarty manor but taking a closer look she is dressing a bit weirdly.

He then told the small but serious problem to William as he knows William can settle and handle the problem well. Apparently, they welcome you which is quite shocking but you are greatful and thankful.

You thank them for letting you stay in their manor.

It’s been months yet you still unable to find a way to go back to the 21st century and this makes you feel quite down, of course Moran realised it as both of you somehow became closer ever since the first meeting.

He will cheer you up by making stupid jokes, he knows how hard it is to lose a person or family who are close to you, who you loves and cherish. If you wanted to rant you, he will lend a ear. He will even give you a hug as a comfort if you are okay with it.

He would teach you self defence as you never know that you will get kidnapped by someone or not. Yes, you somehow knew that what the Moriarty gang are planning and of course you helped them since you know how bad is the class system that time.

He is so proud to see you succeed in various missions, it just boost his pride up. I’m sure sooner or later, he will realise that he hold feelings for you.

Indirectly taking you a date one day by having a nice dinner with you. His heart just melts when he saw how happy you are. He swear that he won’t let you get hurt, he will always protect and be by your side.

He is shocked but he quickly compose himself when he saw you in the garden. He is about to tend the roses in the garden as it is his everyday routine.

Well you didn’t ruin the flowers that a good thing but who are you exactly?? Do you know you are trespassing??

It is such a awkward moment for the both of you keep staring at each other.

You got up and asked where are you at, he would be confused at first but looking at the way you dress, you don’t seems like from England or in this era at all.

He would answer your questions but still wary of you. Who knows you are actually faking it but then when he saw that you were panicking and terrified he started to think that you might have gotten yourself in a sticky situation.

First thing that he thought is to approach William as he knows William will have a solution to handle these kind of problems. Before explaining, you told them not to think you are out of your mind and begin to tell them about how you are from the 21st century and you don’t even know how you are transported to this era.

I mean is not like you are able to meet someone from the future every day.. maybe not even once at all so this is quite bizarre.

Since you don’t know how to go back or when you are able to go back, the Moriarty gang decided to do some cover up at least to make you blend into the 19th century.

You would usually visit the garden since you are fascinated and shocked about how well the flowers are tended. Is not everytime you are able to see full bloom flowers.

You will think how skillful Fred is and you begin to approach him to make some small conversation like asking him about his day or even different types of flowers in the garden.

Slowly, Fred open up to you and found that you and him have a lot of things in common. That’s how you capture his heart.

When he saw how down you look when you miss your home, he will sit together with you and comfort you. He might give you the flowers that he grow to you so that you will cheer up.

He will bring you along whenever he is been given a task by William in town. After he had completed it, he will take you to a cafe and enjoy a cup of drink together.

Both of you would talk about everything and anything. He might confess to you that day and if you do accept it he will place a kiss on your cheek.

Please don’t tease him, this precious boy would be so embarrassed and started stammered while talking to you.

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #william james moriarty #louis james moriarty #albert james moriarty #sebastian moran #fred porlock

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jesuschristtakethewheel · 4 years ago

Text

Wanna Bet?

Summary: “I bet you can’t go 24 hours without cussing.”

Warnings: Lots of explicit language. Very creative explicit language. Basically crack humor.

Word Count: 2178 (Officially the longest thing I have ever written)

This is for @navybrat817 and @stargazingfangirl18 ‘s writing challenge (i finished with 3 hours to spare lol) and the prompt that I used is bolded below. Although it isn’t smut, I really hope you enjoy!

It started as a bet, as most things do. You couldn’t believe the whole world thought Steve Rogers, also known as Captain America, was the epitome of chivalry and good manners. You guess people idolized the 40s as having chivalric gentlemen, who could do no wrong. If you went on national television and told everyone the all-American, patriotic Captain America said twelve variations of the word “fuck” in the last minute, not a single soul would believe you. It was honestly ridiculous and a bit naive of the public to think a man from Brooklyn in the 1930s, who served in the US Army, who had been standing up to bullies ever since he could walk, wouldn’t ever curse.

When you were preparing to meet Captain America for the first time, you understood that he would be different from what the media portrayed him to be. But you really didn’t expect that you would meet Captain America while he was cursing out a bag of broccoli. The fact that Captain America cursed wasn’t surprising to you, but the fact that Captain America cursed like a sailor -- very, very creatively and for the dumbest of reasons -- was, frankly, both hilarious and offsetting. You didn’t think you would ever be able to get the thought of Steve describing broccoli as “fuckin’ green dickweasels who’re making a mockery of actual trees” out of your head.

It was an hourly occurrence to hear new inventive curses from Steve, such as “wankhammer”, “fopdoodle”, “douchenozzle”, and “cockwaffle”. Your personal favorite was “fucktangular”, but “asstrumpet” was a close second.

_________

You knew two things: you were exhausted and the world was safe for now. Each step leeched the remaining scraps of energy from your body as you trudged, one step at a time, back to the Avengers Compound. The lingering slime from the aliens that attacked had made its way everywhere - inside your combat gear, in your hair, and even in between your toes. Every movement you made was accompanied by a cacophony of squelches, curses and groans, both from you and the other Avengers. Steve didn’t disappoint, commenting that “the arsebadger aliens could have been cleaner” while futilely attempting to wipe the slime off his shield, only managing to spread it even more.

Entering the elevator with the others, you leaned against the side rails and waited, transferring some alien remains to the elevator while doing so. Too tired to do anything, but too wired to sleep, you collapsed on the couches in the lounge and the others followed your lead.

“Fuck.” Steve groaned. Everyone turned to look at him and found he was sprawled like a starfish on the floor. The supersoldier had fallen off the floor. If you had the energy to do so, you’d be laughing your head off.

“I thought you could do this all day, Mr. America?” Bucky smirked. He was the only one still standing, and wasn’t even looking at Steve. He was sharpening his knives in the corner of the room. Fucking supersoldiers with enhanced senses.

“Leave me alone, dickweasel.” Steve muttered, rolling onto his side while flipping Bucky off.

“Hey Cap,” you called, voice slightly muffled by the couch cushions. “You curse so often that I bet you can’t go 24 hours without cussing.”

“Capsicle can’t go an hour without cursing, let alone a whole day,” Tony said, grinning. “He’d never take the bet.”

Steve huffed. Everyone knew about Steve’s competitive streak. He would never back down from a bet. “It’s on. Starting at 12 tomorrow, I’m not allowed to use any curse words for 24 hours. I’ll be tracked by F.R.I.D.A.Y all day so there aren’t any complaints. If I win, Y/N has to do both of our mission reports for a month.”

You narrowed your eyes, knowing Steve was well aware of your tendency to procrastinate on or even forgo doing the mission reports entirely. “And when I win, you’ll allow us to get a team cat! And I get to name them.” You were met with groans from your teammates.

“But you always pick the stupidest names,” Sam said, crossing his arms and glaring at you. “Remember your plants? Who names a succulent ‘Eggboi’?”

Before you could respond to Sam’s slander of your naming abilities, Steve cut in. “Deal.”

_________

It was 11:59 am and the Avengers were gathered in a circle, surrounding you and Steve as you shook hands.

“I think I’ll name them ‘Le Ole Razzle Dazzle’. It has a certain ring to it, wouldn’t you agree?” You smirked. “Or Razzmatazz for short.”

Steve frowned. “First of all, that’s a terrible name. Secondly, you’re severely underestimating my self-control -”

“This bullshit’s coming from someone who jumped out of a plane WITHOUT a parachute,” Bucky interrupted. “Self-control, my ass.”

While Natasha was kind enough to cover up her laughter with a cough, no one else gave Steve the same courtesy. With tears in his eyes from the laughter, Sam announced, “The bet starts in three. Two. One.”

When it became clear that nothing interesting was going to be happening for the time being, everyone left to do their own thing, leaving you and Steve alone. You smiled at Steve as innocently as you could, fluttering your eyelashes to seem less suspicious. He just looked at you weirdly.

“You’re planning something.” It wasn’t even a question. You should have known Steve was too smart to fall for your puppy eyes. The fact you tried using the puppy eyes trick was quite ironic as you were planning on winning a kitten.

“Mayhaps, my good friend. But you can’t stop me.” You laughed as you ran out of the room, leaving Steve shaking his head at your antics.

Time for Phase Two.

_________

You held your breath - afraid that one wrong move would alert the enemy to your position. Slowly placing your hand on the metal grate in front of you, you peered through the bars of the vent to make sure the target was still in sight. Although crawling through the vents was a bit more Hawkeye’s style than yours, you needed to be as stealthy as possible.

Your mission was simple - subdue the target by any means necessary.

Lifting the grate slowly, you managed to lift it enough to pass through. There was a small clang as you moved, and you held your breath to make sure no one was looking or had noticed you before sliding feet first out of the hole. You were free-falling for only a couple of seconds, with your legs together, making sure to point your feet. Your arms were above you, hair floating above you. You couldn’t help but revel in the glimpse of weightlessness which made it seem like you could fly.

You landed, exactly as you intended, on your target’s shoulders, twisting until both yourself and Captain America were on the floor, with you on top. You hoped that wasn’t the last time you were on top of Steve.

“Jesus Christ! What the fu-” Steve stopped and took a deep breath, craning his neck to look at your smug face. “Fudge.” You pouted. “That was dirty, Y/N. I didn’t expect this from you.” You couldn’t believe he was using the patriotic Captain America gaze of disappointment on you.

Grumbling, you picked yourself off the floor and dusted yourself off. You extended your hand out to Steve who, after narrowing his eyes at you, took it. He was honestly right to doubt your intentions. As soon as Steve turned around, you took the liberty to smack his ass. Hard.

Steve whirled around with a wounded look on his face. “Y/N!” he shouted, hand reaching back to rub his butt. Seeing the innocent smile on your face, he huffed and walked out, completely ignoring the sniggers from the rest of the people in the room.

“Love you too, Cap!” you called out after him. He just flipped you off.

_________

Steve was fed up with the bet. You had been provoking him all day, popping up at the most random times to cause chaos and get him to break. He bet you could give Loki a run for his money for his title as ‘God of Mischief’.

Sometime while he was training, you had snuck into his apartment and had rigged his bathroom door to dump a bag of flour on his head, so he literally could not take a shit in peace. Fuming, he punched a clean hole through his wall, which Tony was certainly not happy about, and tried to lay down on his bed before realizing that someone had replaced his bed with one that was too short so his legs hung off the sides. Steve had to take a minute to stop himself from giving you a piece of his mind.

That wasn’t all. Even Fury was in on the bet. On Y/N’s side. He had been called into Fury’s office under the guise of getting a new mission but was instead locked in the room with the song “Never Gonna Give You Up” by Rick Astley blaring on the speakers for an hour. He ended up punching the window and jumping out of the building to escape the torture. It definitely was not one of his finer moments. Y/N was going to pay for what she did.

_________

There was only an hour left of the bet. Steve had survived a feather ambush, a cactus crowd, and a salt shaker stuck to his leg. (It was still stuck. He couldn’t get it off.) All things considered, Steve was feeling pretty smug, certain that he would win. But when he took one look at Y/N’s face, he immediately thought again.

Trying to escape, he speed-walked into the lounge, trying to escape from Y/N, but not wanting to be rude. Instead of an empty room, every single Avenger was there. Raising one eyebrow, Steve walked past Bucky, who smirked at Steve, and tried to open the door. When it didn’t open, Steve looked back at all of the smiling Avengers.

“Why am I being locked out?” All Steve wanted to do was wait out the rest of the bet in his room, but sadly, the Avengers were a bunch of nosy bitches who liked to bet on his life.

“Well, I didn’t want you to miss out on the main event,” you drawled, tilting your head slightly with an innocent look on your face as Steve slowly turned around and pouted.

“Just get on with it.”

You beamed, pulling out a tablet. “It will be my pleasure.”

The lights dimmed dramatically, leaving the room in darkness except for the spotlight, which shone directly at the corner of the room, where Bucky just happened to be leaning against the wall. Picking at his nails with a knife, Bucky was unbothered by the stares and the cameras pointed at him, taking his time to start talking.

“This is what I call the incident of a thousand seconds.”

Bucky didn’t even get two sentences in. “Absolutely not.” Steve wanted to curse up a storm. “No way.”

Natasha cut in. “Well, now I’m intrigued. Spill.”

“I’m just saying. You know exactly how to end this, pal.” Steve just glared. There was no escape. If Bucky put his mind to something, there was no stopping him.

“As you know, Steve respected one Peggy Carter.” Steve groaned loudly, shoving his face into his hands. “One day, Peggy wanted to ask Steve about some battle strategies, but it wasn’t the right time.”

“Do you really have to make puns about my misery?”

As if Steve hadn’t spoken, Bucky carried on. “Steve had just gotten back from a successful mission and was celebrating with the rest of the Howling Commandos. Peggy came by and asked Steve if he ‘had a sec’. And poor, poor, Steve. Without even thinking, he responded ‘Yes, I have a lot of--’”

“Oh fuck off, Buck.” The room spun around to face Steve, whose face paled. “No.” His eyes widened. “I didn’t say that out loud.” But, looking at Y/N’s grin, he knew he had messed up. “Fucknugget.”

_________

Steve wasn’t one to go back on his word. The next day, he signed the paperwork for Y/N to adopt a pet. He hoped that with Natasha going with you to the animal shelter, she would stop you before going too far, but he very much doubted it. The newest addition to the team was set to arrive any minute, and he could tell that Sam and Bucky were the most excited.

“And a drumroll please,” you shouted, always having a flair for the dramatics. Steve didn’t move an inch. Unbothered, you held up a gray kitten like it was Simba from the Lion King.

“Introducing… Princess Avocado Elizabegg Eggbert.”

Steve let out a wail of anguish. “Please. I’m begging you. Please change her name.”

“No.” Cuddling Princess Eggy closer, you made indecipherable high-pitched sounds at your new baby“Please?”

“You’re such a sore loser.”

__________

@tessabennet Thank you for reading this and encouraging me to finish!! :)

If you want to be added to my taglist, just shoot me a comment or an ask!

Reblogs, comments, and likes are all greatly appreciated.

#shamelesshoesforchris #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #avengers #marvel #steve rogers #steve #crack humor #crack #tw swearing #swearing #writing #my writing #this is my type of humor

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imo-chan-imagines · 4 years ago

Text

『 Their best sexual characteristic | Haikyuu!! Headcanons 』

Part 5/?

Characters: female!reader, Miya Atsumu, Miya Osamu, Sakusa Kiyoomi

Tags/warnings: Haikyuu!! (anime), 18+, explicit descriptions of sex, headcanons, imagines

Attention: All characters in this series are aged up to be at least 18+

⚠️ 18+ CONTENT! MINORS: PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT ⚠️

A/N: These headcanons really are getting longer each time 😫 But I had a surprising amount of fun writing these ones. Hope you can tell that by reading them! Previous parts are linked at the bottom of the post. Thanks for reading! Please enjoy! ♡

Miya Atsumu

» His dirty talk

First off: that voice. I think y'all know what I'm talking about literally orgasmic

It's so deep, and smooth, and relaxing in a way that just gets you going. There's just something about it that makes you rub your thighs together if ya get me

And when he presses his lips close to your ear, his voice feels like he's caressing you all over yes all over

You basically get high off his voice. Cloud nine ☁️😍

He absolutely loves to talk dirty to you, telling you exactly what he's going to do to you, how pretty you look with your mouth around his cock, or how you're taking him inside you so well hnng

He's got a knack for choosing exactly the right words, and it gets your pussy dripping and aching for him

He always says about how your pussy feels like it was made for his cock

It fits so snug. Loose enough that he can fuck you whenever, but tight enough that he has to work for it

Astumu really loves teasing you – taking his time and priming you with his dirty talk, experimenting with just how close to the edge he can get you when he's hardly even touching you confident little shit, I love him

And it's pretty close

He's exactly the kind of guy to take over an hour making you desperate and horny for him, enjoying the view of your sensitive body squirming beneath him, craving some kind of release

Seeing you like that for him, all just with his words and the occasional well placed hands, boosts his ego to no end as well as making him literally rock hard, aye papi

And the sounds you make when you're a hot, horny mess~

Lord, he wants to record them on his phone and play them back full volume when he jacks off

Honestly, he just wants to record you in general. Take a video of you mewling for him. Maybe snap a pic from above of you with your top pulled up over your tits, nipples hard, thighs pressing together, and with the most desperate look on your face so he has it...you know...for later...

But he'd never actually do any of that without your consent, just to be clear

He'll do this until all you want – all your can think about – is having his cock inside you

And he can be ever so slightly mean and make you beg for it, with that cocky, lidded gaze and a faint smirk again – the little shit. But I love him

"What is it that you want, babygirl? I need to hear you say it. Don't be shy. Use those big words of yours."

But he'd never be so mean as to deny giving it to you. He always planned on fucking you until you can't walk please, oml

Besides, while he's been getting you all riled up, he's been getting just as flustered and desperate. He can just hide it pretty well because he relishes the process

And it's not all just talk, either. Astumu really delivers prime dick 🙌 let me tell you

But the dirty talk doesn't stop there

He uses that voice of his and those delicious words to drive you closer to your climax, his words getting cruder as his hips get sloppier, praising you to no end

He's not shy about what he thinks. He's incredibly straightforward about it

You're making him fucking horny? He'll tell you. Your pussy is the best he's ever fucked? He'll tell you flat out while he's pounding into you. He thinks you look beautiful stuffed with his cock? He won't even hesitate

Communication is key, ya know?

Astumu is a great sexter, too. He has you rushing home on a regular basis to get dicked down omw, lol

And he can't resist whispering dirty nothings in your ear in public, watching you twitch as you get flustered and needy he thinks it's really fucking adorable

The hottest shit since fire was discovered

But underneath that confident, teasing exterior, he's actually super soft for you

You mean the world to him, and his dirty talk is just a declaration of it. His little way of saying 'I love you'

And he's just as whipped for you and your pussy as you are for him and his cock

Awwww. Guys, true love is real 🥺

Miya Osamu

» He loves mutual masturbation

Is it a kink? A fetish? Yeah, pretty much

There's just something really fucking hot to Osamu about getting each other off/getting off in front of each each other

Like, stroke his cock while he's fingering you, and he's cumming in 2 minutes tops

Does it fully replace regular sex?

Nah. Osamu is still down to jump your bones, like, 80-90% of the time lmfao

But he's a pretty practical guy, you know?

He knows that people don't always have the time or the energy, or sometimes even the enthusiasm, to go ~all the way~ every single time

Even for a quickie which he is a fan of, tbh

So he sees mutual masturbation as a great alternative

You both get what you want, you get to do it together, and it really, really turns him on win-win, tbh

Plus, this way, he generally gets a better look at you while you two are going at it he loves a good view

He's a ~connoisseur~ if you will

Osamu is also really into thigh riding and dry humping not just for practicality, either

It's not uncommon for you to crawl onto his lap or thigh when he's busy at home and you're feeling needy, and slowly start grinding on him to get his attention

He might try and ignore you at first, play a little game of will-he-won't-he before he stops doing to whatever it was he was doing before and gives in to you

He'll never turn you away if you're desperate enough to start riding him like that. He's like, 'Damn, she really wants me, huh? 🥵'

Even if he wasn't horny before, he sure as hell is once you start rubbing yourself against him like that

He doesn't even really understand his fascination with all this stuff himself. Like, is it the fact that you're still wearing clothes? The extra friction? The intimacy? The neediness of it? Who knows 🤷‍♀️

All Osamu knows is that it makes his dick stand up faster and straighter than a patriot hearing the national anthem, lmfao, sooo....

He tries to let you do your thing when you're grinding against him like that, but his hands normally find their way to your hips and start firmly working you down into his crotch or thigh, harder and faster

He just can't help himself. The more he gets turned on, the more is hands wander they're kind of cold and it sometimes makes you jump or shiver

If he was being entirely honest, he'd admit how much he loves the feeling of your wet pussy sliding against him, or the feeling of your juices seeping through his trouser leg, making a beautiful, glistening mess but he's rarely that honest, unlike his brother, lol

Definitely the kind of guy to casually lick his fingers after making you cum around them 👅 he may or may not kiss you directly after

His face can be a little hard to read sometimes, but he gets this particularly hungry look in his eyes whenever he's turned on that sends a tingle up your inner thighs *eyebrow wiggle*

The proximity when you're getting each other off is a big win for him – the heat, the panting, the intensity, the little or not so little sounds that escape your lips~

It's all so steamy. It really gets his blood pumping to his diCK

When he's turned on, he gets a little blush across his cheeks that spreads to the tops of his ears you love seeing it from your vantage point when you're straddling him

One thing is certain, though, and that's that he wouldn't do this kind of thing with just anyone

There's something about mutual masturbation, thigh riding, etc. that's very intimate and personal to him, and he'd only do it with someone that he really loves and, perhaps even more importantly, trusts

It's an honour, my gal 😌 He doesnt open up to just anybody 🥺

Sakusa Kiyoomi

» His cum kink

So, a 'cum kink' is pretty vague, as it can mean literally almost anything to do with cum make sure you do you research, my peeps

But Sakusa has a pretty specific cum kink, and that's that his goes inside you

Doesn't really matter if it's your mouth or your pussy I'm not going to say ass, because I feel like that's a big no-no for him

He just likes it going inside you. Swallow it, hold it in by laying on your back with your legs up – whatever. All good to him

But!

It's not a breeding kink thing. It's actually surprise, surprise because it's cleaner. Less mess

Now, Sakusa holds great pride in being able to make you cum, and duh he likes the feeling of himself cumming. He just doesn't want it getting everywhere

Cum is a nightmare to clean out of stuff!! And he wears a lot of black, so it's not a good mix!!

Legit, don't get cum stains on black clothes, guys. 100% not a good time 😭😭

The reason for it isn't the hottest or most romantic thing in the world, but like I said before:

He loves cumming inside you

Just, for the love of God, don't let it all flow back out again please. If not for his sanity, then for your own, because he will fucking go off 😭😂

Condoms are normally a must again, for hygiene reasons

Wrap that shit up, my dudes

But if you get to the stage of your relationship where you're wanting to try going raw and maybe have a baby then~

Damn, this man is going to absolutely destroy your pussy 😩

And if you happen to have a little breeding kink yourself, then you're in for a treat, my gal~

He'll definitely play it up just for you, and will not shut up about how he's going to fill you up until you're fucked out and your pussy is stuffed to the brim with his cum

When you're done, he'll literally take a firm hold your legs and keep them up in the air to stop his cum escaping *sweats in breeding kink*

Rest in pieces if you have a bad gag reflex, because Sakusa enjoys deep-throating, and literally cumming straight into your stomach lmao, and he's a big boy, so prepare yourself

Again, no clean-up = ideal

He can normally be a little rough, but he is the GOD of hate/angry/frustration sex. Like, taking out his stress and frustration in bed just makes it even better

He can be a little iffy about giving you oral or fingering you, though. 'Tis a bit messy for his tastes

He doesn't like to make you do all the work, though. It makes him feel lousy

So one time he offered to finger you while wearing a pair of those latex gloves that doctors wear lmfao, gold star for Kiyoomi. He tried 😭

And I'm not even remotely exaggerating when I say he will outright refuse to have sex with you if you have a cold

Exchange of bodily fluids when you're ill is a big NOPE did you honestly expect anything else? 😭

This isn't even about his kink anymore. Whoops 🙃

♡°☆°♡°☆°♡

Part 1: Oikawa, Daichi, Kuroo

Part 2: Ushijima, Suga, Bokuto

Part 3: Iwaizumi, Akaashi, Asahi

Part 4: Kageyama, Noya, Tendou

#imo chan imagines #haikyuu!!#hq!#headcanons #imagines #smut #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #miya atsumu #miya osamu #sakusa kiyoomi #miya atsumu x reader #miya osamu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader

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redbirdbella · 4 years ago

Text

@clintasha-week Advent calendar Day 9 - Emotions

Very angsty. CW - guns, illusions to suicide, Avengers Assemble canon character death, drug use, talk of mind control. (If there's any more please tell me but those are the ones i can see.)

It takes Natasha 45 minutes to decide Clint's been alone long enough.

It takes two weeks for her to find him.

Phil's funeral had been tough on everyone, her archer especially. He'd been a broken man, tears staining his cheeks as he carried the casket. Natasha to his left, holding his hand as she helps bear the weight.

Barton, Romanoff, Rogers, Hill, Fury and May carrying the weight of a brother, a comrade and a true patriot July 1964 til May 2012 (or at least that's what the grave will say).

She gives him space, room to grieve, to bury his head into his hands and weep until shes worried he'll shrivel up. Like he'll faint from dehydration like when he was hungover that one time in Vegas. Happier times. Hill supplies the tissues and Steve the rousing speech. It's tasteful, Phil would appreciate it. But there's no flowers to hide the casket, just his stupid Captain America trading cards on, the ones that make Natasha's heartbreak.

Clint asks for space. After it's all over, once the coffins gone behind the red velvet curtains and the music plays. She agrees, resigned to him running. She can play the game. Follow where he leads.

Two weeks. Two damn weeks it takes. Europe, the Americas, Africa. She even checks in with Barney. The infamous Hawkeye is gone with the wind.

She goes on a whim. On a shadow of a memory of Tokyo. Of him stitching her up. Of safety and warm alcohol. A disconnected safehouse. Off the grid. Shelter, nothing more.

It's not there, replaced by a luxury high-rise. Last few units remaining the realtor declares. Great, he'll be near the top then.

She hacks the database. It's easy enough. Flat 804.

It's quiet. Eerily so, and she prays to whatever deity will listen to not have another funeral so soon.

She knocks hard, demanding a reply, but she's no surprised when no one answers.

Simple locks make simple work, the door creaking open in spite of her pleas for quiet.

He's up and in the doorway. He's armed, fingers gripping to his old Glock. Simple, effective but not if he looks so indecisive. Like its somehow difficult choosing between the intruder and himself.

"Clint" She whispers, pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth letting his stubble scratch against her, "It's ok. Just me."

"Tasha" he breathes, taking her head into his hands. She holds them, noticing the way they shake, the way it makes it easy to dispossess him. Too easy. She notices the razor burn on his cheeks like he'd tried, tried to find himself amongst the rubble, "He's- I'm- I've fought so hard Tasha"

"I know, you've been so brave, but you don't have to be. I'm here, together yeah?"

He nods, letting her push her way into the apartment. The way she moves past the bottle piles and cracked walls with an effortless grace ignoring the smell of BO and alcohol. The lingering stench of rock bottom.

"Let's get you clean huh?"

He nods leading her to the bathroom. The flat has a bath graciously untouched and running hot water that leaves Natasha whispering a silent thank you to the powers that be.

She's well packed, well versed in Clint and all his emergencies. Magnesium enriched Epsom salts with lavender and chamomile, to soothe his sores and the anxious energy in his muscles. Clint recognises the box and nods reluctantly.

"Want to put some in?"

He doesn't, but he doesn't stop her adding a healthy amount. He strips down without her request, he isn't scared of being naked. Not with her. She's seen worse. She's seen the bodies on the floor, even helped organise the men that had taken Phil away, leaving the red smudge that seemed to imprint into his mind.

"Hey" She whispers kindly as if the past didn't hang so heavy between them "the water should be warm enough now. Go on, it won't bite"

He nods and steps in, if only to see her smile his last connection to humanity reflected back to him.

"Should we lay down?" She asks but she's already slowly lowering herself letting her arm dangle into the water.

He follows her. A little less steady but it's a start. She kisses his head, "Whatever you're on its strong"

Clint shrugs. Not strong enough.

"How long?"

"How long?" Natasha echos "long enough that I've missed you"

"No, how long in here?"

"Until I say so"

There's no quip just a nod and Natasha's heart breaks just a little more. She clings to the outside of the bath under his watchful gaze, humming songs she remembers from better times. Before gods and monsters and mayhem.

It takes a while for the salts to work their magic, making his limbs grow heavier, back to his control. The bath should be cool, if Natasha hadn't constantly refilled bringing it back to a good temperature. The one that melts the trickster god's ice.

"There, I've got something to get you dry" She whispers when he stands, requesting to be let out. She'd got it at the airport, so it's still fluffy with its new novel smell. He wraps it around his waist and she throws his clothes into the water left in the tub. Cleaning the air of the smell and giving him no choice but to choose the fresh clothes she's brought. He agrees to the pants, black with a purple stripe out the outside leg, the pair he always wore for long nights in.

"That's better" Natasha praises, directing him to the toilet, seat down, "you tried to shave-"

"I look like him" oh the original him. Barton Snr. The only man she hated more than Loki.

"I only see my partner" she whispers pressing another kiss to his cheek, "let me show you-"

She brings out a kit. A long-forgotten kit, one that only comes out for him. Her Barbers kit from her time attending to the soldiers. It's not the same, her tools had been blunted through use but the idea is still there. Buried deep through countless repetition.

Clints not like the soldiers. Even now he fidgets putting himself at her mercy. It's a long process, a Turkish shave, but each time it's worth it for the way he smiles, blushing under her tender touches. It's different this time, there's no more smiles but he shuts his eyes letting himself be pampered.

"There." She whispers placing a mirror into his hands once the act is done "There you are. Back again"

He nods, avoiding the man that glances back at him and she places her hands against the back of his neck.

"You cant ever ask for space again"

He nods.

"Not until I say so"

He nods. He's taken something, something strong. Detoxing will be a bitch but that was tomorrows battle.

"Bed?"

He doesn't nod, but he doesn't object either just leads her there as if she just wanted to see it. To check for proof of its existence.

There's no more fresh sheets, but the spare bedrooms untouched. Natasha's doubt's he'd left the living room much, not in this state.

He lays on the bed and waits for her to follow. Then he surrounds her, hands desperate to touch, to reassure his trembling grip on reality.

"I'm here. I'm here" she soothes

"You've been here before" he counters.

"Not like tonight"

He's quiet until he can't contain anymore "They took my mind"

"And I took it back"

"I killed him.

"Loki killed him. You were with me"

He nods, "You would have saved him."

"I made my choice"

"It wasn't your choice to make!"

They settle into the silence that follows. She doesn't expect an apology, she doesn't need one. She knew what it was like for someone to take your brain and play.

"Did you really think I wouldn't know you? That I wouldn't come looking" She whispers "I fought a god for you."

"And do you like your prize?"

"Now you sound like him"

"Cause he's still in there! I'd blow a hole in my head to let him out! to make it stop!"

"Don't- I need you" She's not beyond pleading, not for Clint.

He's quiet, until the tears come. They burn his freshly shaved skin so she stems them, blotting them out with her fingers.

"I'm here, it's ok" she's writing cheques she can't cash, making promises she can't keep "It can stop now, let me take it from here"

She offers out her arms as he'd done all those years before. His arms were bigger. It wasn't such a tight fit but her skills lay elsewhere. She lets her hands creep down his bareback. Recalling every last detail she can remember about her massage class back in Russia, when they'd promised her only gentle hands could wiggle out secrets. Before they corrected the lie.

He startles as she begins, if the sobs that shudder against her shoulder are any indication.

She shhs him, cradling him like a child

"It's just me"

She draws circles against his back, letting him strain away when she touches somewhere tender.

"Please, please don't fight me like you do him"

She lets her own tears slip away as he surrenders to her touch, feeling each muscle relax against her.

Until he surrenders to the deep sleep that pulls him under.

There's no more need to fight, for she grants him rest.

#clintasha advent 2020 #clintasha angst #clintasha #idk guys #is it good or am i just having a breakdown

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tundrainafrica · 4 years ago

Text

Title: Heroes or Victims

Summary:

"As Hange stared down at the man whom she believed was very much deserving of the title “hero,” she was reminded that he was just as much a victim as everyone else."

Hange reflects on emotions, relationships, war philosophies, and a future while taking care of a severely injured Levi.

Written for @levihanweek, Angstober 2020. Prompt: trapped/escape

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Notes: Here is my offering for LeviHan Week, Angstober 2020. Prompt: trapped/escape. I went a little overboard with the word count. Either way, I hope you enjoy. ;)

Credits to my betareader @scribusdomina

Any soldier who died in the field was presented as a hero of the walls. The stories told within the walls evoked images of violent charges, loud and emotional screams for their motherland and quick deaths.

Those soldiers were brave, honorable, and patriotic.

There is no better way to die than falling off one's horse battered and bloody, dreaming of the motherland.

It was a terrifyingly effective piece of propaganda that the lower class within the walls of Paradis welcomed with open arms and consumed too quickly. People saw the garrison and military police as equals to the brave soldiers who die a quick death in the battlefield, their moment of honor yet to come. Ironically, the survey corps members who actually died quickly in the battlefield were rarely afforded that same respect.

For that reason, and for many other reasons, those who survived past what could have been their first death and eventually became the veterans of the corps, ended up completely rejecting this train of thought.

As the numbers of the survey corps members dwindled, the war against titans morphed into a war of attrition. The survey corps did not have the hundreds of people to spare and those within the survey corps at Hange's command were trained to hide in enclosed spaces to preserve themselves until the enemy tires out. A war that starts with a brave charge ends with quick deaths and a quick end to the war, giving no time for the soldiers to ponder the losses and their purpose in the grand scheme of things.

The shift towards preserving life gave birth to a new type of thinker --- the battle hardened soldier. Levi and Hange having survived the longest through the bloodiest wars with the most cruel bouts of survivor's guilt, were at the forefront of this paradigm shift.

Every single person who died out there for the crown and for the people who lived within the walls were more victims than heroes.

Those words in particular rang louder to Hange as she stared down at the man whom she believed was very much deserving of the title “hero”. At that moment though, as he lay injured and vulnerable, with the beginnings of a fever, Hange was reminded that he was just as much a victim as everyone else.

Levi had always been trapped. He grew up in the underground city under Wall Sina, forced into a life of crime and violence just to survive. From what she remembered, he did not join the survey corps out of his own volition either.

Hange brushed Levi's bangs out of his face and reapplied the wet cloth on his forehead.

She shuddered as she listened to Levi's soft whimpers. His face was a mess. She guessed he had a few broken ribs, probably some internal bleeding. He needed to get to a doctor and even if he did survive, he could be left with a permanent disability.

While the rich kid who disobeyed her parents and willingly joined the battle, just came out blind in one eye with a few bruises and scars. Hange let out a pained sigh as she thought of how unfair it all was. She had experienced enough comfort growing up and could have gladly taken some of that misfortune off his shoulders.

Levi's history was a stark contrast to hers. Hange had come from a comfortable background and despite her parent's protests, had committed to joining the survey corps out of sheer curiosity on what existed outside the walls. To her, military service was an escape, an escape from the safe, comfortable yet predictable future her parents had set out for her.

"Now that I think about it, I was free to do whatever I wanted. I had the choice to live within Wall Sina, the choice to defy my parents and join the survey corps. So I shouldn't be regretting anything…" Hange lightly tapped her eyepatch. The pain had completely faded and as she put pressure on it, the only thing she felt was the phantom pain from the memory of the explosion and glass flying into her eye.

She looked back to the sleeping Levi, trying to gauge how much pain he must be in, given the gravity of his injuries. She ended up laughing at her own naivete. She had experienced her fair share of injuries. They were all painful yet none of them really evolved into a full blown hospital stay or an injury leave.

Back then, an explosion like that would definitely have put him on injury leave for at least a month.

As Hange reminisced on their old expeditions outside the walls, she gave a sardonic laugh. "Worst timing eh? Can't even take you to a hospital for decent healthcare. We have a war to fight and you're stuck in bed."

"No… time… for care. We need… to fight...”

Hange instinctively looked down when she felt something warm on her fingers. She watched, amused as Levi tried to find the most natural way to wrap three fingers around her hand. "I'll go to your other side so at least it's your good hand wrapping around mine."

"No… Just sit near...."

Hange scooched closer to his hand and Levi settled for putting his right hand on top of hers. Levi's hand twitched a few times, possibly in protest to his attempts to squeeze her hand. She grasped it lightly and felt the hand on top of hers relax as she took on his burden. Somehow, his face seemed to relax more.

Hange lay down beside him on the forest floor, careful not to jostle his injured hand as she held it. She rolled over to her side and studied his bandaged face once again.

Ever since Levi had become a captain of the survey corps, he was constantly moving, constantly thinking. The weight of everyone's expectations on humanity's strongest was a heavy burden to carry. She had seen him fall asleep multiple times in Erwin's office or more recently, in her room next to her. He usually slept for three hours a night, easily awoken by the slightest sound, but there, right next to her, he looked like he had fallen into a deep sleep.

"Why now? How are you able to fall asleep now?" Hange asked softly with no expectations for an answer. By then, Levi's breathing had already evened out and Hange instead kept herself occupied, by mimicking the slow and steady breaths of the man next to her.

Somehow, she managed to fall asleep,too.

Heroes or Victims

Levi's fever only worsened.

He wasn't awake yet but Hange feared that he could be in pain.

Hange searched the forest for familiar plants. She was no botanist but she had studied enough to know what could be used to alleviate pain, stave off infections.

Whether she would be giving it in the right doses and processing it correctly was the better question. She had seen the people in the infirmary do that same method multiple times as she supervised the treatments of injured soldiers who contracted fevers from wound infections. She was hesitant at first to even attempt such treatment on Levi without training but she had seen how a high fever deteriorates into chills, slow breathing, then eventually death without the right treatment. She decided for herself that it was a gamble she had to take. Hange only hoped that she remembered everything accurately enough that she wouldn’t end up poisoning him.

As she waited for the leaves to steep, she turned her attention to Levi. The wet cloth she had placed on his forehead was heating up alarmingly fast and Hange found herself shaking as she wiped down his body with cooler water.

She recalled her own experiences in an attempt to placate her fears.

When was the last time she had felt that much heat come out of someone?

Maybe during her days supervising the injured survey corps members in the infirmary?

Did they survive?

Back then, they had the safe, sterile environment of the infirmary. There, at that moment, it was just both of them in the middle of a dark forest. Her own attempts only served to worsen her already growing fears. Despite the high fever, Levi was sleeping like a log.

"Why do you look so fucking peaceful?" Hange teared up. She would have preferred to see Levi in a fitful sleep. Pain meant he was still there. Hange had learned, having watched countless soldiers die in the infirmary, that when the breath of the patient slows and they start to feel cool and clammy, it means certain death. Also, a peaceful sleep introduced the possibility that he might never wake up.

Hange resisted the temptation to shake Levi awake, risking further injury. Instead, she settled for putting her hand on his good one and squeezing hard enough to feel something back. She focused on the fact that he was still hot to touch. It meant he was still very much alive.

"Don't you fucking die on me."

Heroes or Victims

Hange needed someone to talk to but at the same time, she was relieved that it had just been the two of them.

The ordeal with Levi's fever shooting up had left her exhausted, her eyes red and her nose running. As the poultice she had put together that night did its work and the fever started to subside, Hange had to stop herself from giving the injured Levi a good kick for all the stress he had caused her that night.

Hange woke up as soon as she heard the rustle of cloth next to her.

He's starting to come around.

It was early morning and Hange wanted to use that time before the sun's heat became unbearable to wash the sheets by the riverside. She carried Levi a few feet towards the river bank, rested him on a tree and covered him with his green cloak.

The sheets were stained with blood and sweat and Hange made a mental note to change his bandages after cleaning out the bed sheets. Watching the blood stains disappear as the sheets flapped in the water was somehow calming. It gave the young commander enough time to reflect on the events of the night before, her own emotions and the fact that she was still lacking sleep. As the last bouts of sleepiness left her, the pent up emotions of last night started to take over.

"Levi, you asshole!" She screamed as she angrily pulled the wet sheets toward her. The sheet flailed as it fought between both her strength and the river carrying it westward. She needed a break. Emotions had built up inside her the night before with no decent outlet as she concentrated all her energy on keeping Levi alive.

"You fucking asshole!" Hange pulled the sheet out and threw it down into the water again.

The cold water that splashed towards her face somehow helped her cool off. Hange let the sheets flow along with the river, only holding on to them with the tips of her fingers. "It was fucking terrifying. You had this fucking face last night. You looked so peaceful. Like you wanted to sleep forever. Do you not want to live anymore? Is your life so shitty that you decide for yourself that 'hey maybe dying might be the better?’”

At that point, Hange did not know how much of what she said she actually meant. He could have heard it. Maybe he didn't. Hange though allowed herself the luxury of releasing everything that was bundled up inside her to the one person who would have understood her either way.

"Life was shit. The dreams were good,” His reply was toneless and too rooted in their bleak reality.

Hange looked back to see that Levi was staring at her. For a while she wondered how much of her tirade he had heard but as she pulled the sheets out of the river and walked towards Levi, she found herself more interested in what Levi had just said.

"Do you feel trapped?" Hange hung the sheet on a low lying branch then crouched down beside Levi.

"Trapped?"

"In life I mean. Like in this hellhole. You looked so free last night. For a while, I thought I was the selfish one for trying to keep you alive."

“I don’t know…”

Hange had to admit. It would be a difficult question for someone especially while recovering from a brush with death. She silently scooched closer to him and looked up, using that clear sky above her as a blank slate to organize her thoughts. She could at least use that extra time to predict an answer like she usually did.

What did I know about him? Admittedly, the two of them did spend a lot of time together but given their line of work, there was always something to discuss. They never had the free time to sit around and just discuss each other's histories. Everything Hange ever knew about Levi, she learned through the bouts of information he volunteered about himself in between sharing thoughts on the latest developments. Hange had taken the liberty to fill in the gaps herself on his personality using empathy, deduction, and pattern recognition.

She was reminded then, that although she knew Levi's personality and could easily predict how he'd react to most situations, she only knew so much about what his life was like before they met.

"Then let me ask something else." Before she even noticed it, Hange had softened her tone. The desperation and anger of a while ago was gone as it looked like Levi was going to survive.

"Hm?"

"What did you dream about?"

Heroes or Victims

The world is a cruel place. That was something both Levi and Hange had concluded a long time ago.

The stark contrast between Levi’s dreams and the reality they lived in only made Hange feel worse for even taking out her frustrations on him. They had both experienced hell but Levi’s life had always been hell. From what she understood, he had grown up in abject poverty. He had experienced the worst the world had to offer--- starvation, discrimination, abuse. He had lost everyone he had ever loved. Only recently, he had lost everything he had known and suddenly was placed in a position of responsibility, forced to keep thinking, to keep moving.

Hange reflected on all these as she cleaned out his wounds. She couldn’t help but notice that Levi had stiffened up, possibly an attempt to control whatever natural reaction his body would make to the pain of the herbal poultice spilling into his deeper wounds. His attempt to hide the pain only served to intensify Hange’s guilt.

“It’s painful, huh?” She bit back tears. “I’m sorry. I was selfish.I didn’t wanna be trapped here alone but yeah, I still have family alive. You have nothing and here I am being entitled, getting mad at you for almost dying.”

“Hey,” Levi said. He weakly grasped Hange’s wrist while she cleaned his wounds. “I’m not trapped. I never was.”

“How can you still say that after all the shit life has thrown at you?” Hange asked as she wriggled out of his weak grip and gently laid his hand on his bare chest.

“I had my mom. Then when she died, I had Farlan, then Isabel, Erwin, then my squad…When I lost them, it hurt like a bitch, every single fucking time.” Levi suddenly looked away from Hange.

Hange could tell from the slight crack in his voice that he was blinking back tears. She put her hand on top of his and squeezed, hoping that was enough for him to realize that he did not need to stop himself from showing emotion.

Levi did not give in to his emotions though. The only sign that he was even about to cry a few seconds ago was that his voice had gotten softer. “But when I feel like shit, there’s always someone there to remind me that life was never just a hell hole. When this war is over, I like to imagine, life could get better. We could maybe live together, you can continue your stupid experiments, I can open a teashop.”

“Then we’ll fight over your black tea budget and how badly I clean the hallways,” Hange joked.

Levi’s mouth quivered into a smile and he closed his eyes. Hange watched as the sleeping effects of the herbal disinfectant took effect. She caressed his cheek and noted how his skin was still warm to the touch but not as hot as it was the night before.

When this war is over, I like to imagine, life could get better. Levi’s words echoed in Hange’s head. She closed her eyes, picturing the future he told her about a moment ago. It would take decades for the people within the walls to realize the futility of war and the vulnerability of the soldiers they had for so long revered. Either way, she let herself imagine spending a war-free future, stressing over mundane problems with the one she loved.

Before Hange left to scavenge for lunch, she allowed herself a few minutes to just stare at his sleeping face. She wondered if he was dreaming of that same future he had told her about. The subtle smile of a while ago had not disappeared from his face yet and somehow, he looked more peaceful than he did the night before.

Hange smiled. Maybe he was dreaming of the both of them. “You’re my escape, too,” she whispered.

Just in case he was.

#levi ackerman #hange zoe #levihan #levi x hange #levi x hanji #attack on titan #fanfic #levihanangstober

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exauhstedsunflower · 4 years ago

Text

So, I’m writing Marvel now…

The thing is, Marvel is a special interest for me. Has been for a long time. The MCU while it has its downsides (I will never forgive them for what they did to Steve Rogers.) is one of my favorite movie franchises of all time. It’s a crime that I haven’t written any fics for it yet, honestly.

This isn’t nearly finished, and I have no idea when it will be or how long it’ll be. It doesn’t even have a name or full plan yet. But it’s a fun project for me. I want to explore the fact that Captain America is from the 40’s, however when he wakes up he is still in his twenties. He’s technically the youngest on the team while simultaneously being way older and being treated as way older than everyone around him. It picks up during the first Avengers film and is written from Tony’s POV. (Again, so far. It’s not done and I could still switch POV’s every once in a while.)

All that being said, enjoy!

Steve hates him. He hates Tony. Tony Stark. Son of his old friend, Howard Stark.

The old bastard was right, isn’t that just ironic.

Endless fights over Tony being a disappointment. Being nothing like the Greatest Man Howard Ever Knew. Howard never shut up about the great Captain America, so of course Tony knew this was coming.

Tony had tried when he was younger, he did. He’d tried to be better, braver, stronger, faster, witty in a way Howard would appreciate. But after a while he’d realized that no matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried, he’d never live up to what Howard wanted from him. Howard said daily that Captain America, Steve Rogers, would be disgusted by Tony. And Tony had just about recently decided that he was moving on from all of his daddy issues and metaphorically telling Howard to shove his criticisms very far up his ass. And, isn’t this just the kicker, Steve Rogers is right in front of him confirming it all.

“Big man in a suit of armor. Take that off, what are you?”

Exactly what everyone thinks I am, obviously.

“Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.”

What? He’s not about to make it easy on Captain America of all people. If anyone can handle his sass, it’s the so called bravest man who ever lived.

“I know guys with none of that worth ten of you. Yeah, I've seen the footage. The only thing you really fight for is yourself. You're not the guy to make the sacrifice play, to lay down on a wire and let the other guy crawl over you.”

Wow, okay. He’s really laying it on, isn't he? He must be really pissed. In all honesty, Tony hadn’t thought it would be so easy to get to him. Or, rather, to get him to a point where he’s actually making personal, cutting blows.

Still, Tony doesn’t want to cause an actual fight. If he wanted that he’d have started off a little more strong, like how Rogers is. What with all the steam coming from his ears. Howard hadn’t mentioned the potentially problematic short fuse in all his ramblings. Whatever, just keep deflecting and find a way to defuse, then. He’s been around long enough to know when the right time to fight is. Currently they have a volatile, murderous psychopath who obviously wants them all fighting on board, so now is not a good time.

“I think I would just cut the wire.”

There, nice and simple. There’s no way Mr. Short Fuse can turn that into-

“Always a way out... You know, you may not be a threat, but you better stop pretending to be a hero.”

Now he’s done it. He’s honestly tempted to say ‘Or what?’. Just curiosity speaking, what would Rogers do? And, another thing, Tony has never claimed to be a hero. Sure, he’s saved a few people, and yeah, he’s trying to save the world currently, but the hero label was all but thrown at him the moment he came out to the world as Iron Man. He doesn’t want to be a hero, all he wants right now is for Rogers to get off his damn high horse.

“A hero? Like you? You're a lab rat, Rogers. Everything special about you came out of a bottle!”

He hadn’t meant to say that. Truly, he hadn’t. He’s supposed to be actively diffusing the situation. But honestly it was an achievement he’d gone that long without actually retaliating. You can only push a man so far-

“Put on the suit, let's go a few rounds.”

He’s not succeeding in his endeavor to not fight Captain America. His dad is likely screeching from his penthouse in hell.

He moves away from Rogers just in time for the locator to go off, signifying that they’ve found what they were looking for. This is followed by an argument about who is going to get it, a rather horrifying revelation that his new best friend besides Rhodey, Pepper and Happy, (Yes, he has claimed this already, he just has to convince Bruce.) has tried to kill himself, and then suddenly Captain America is trying to fight him, again.

“Put on the suit, let’s find out!”

“I’m not afraid to hit an old man.” He replies calmly, though a little heated.

It’s just oh so ironic, (This whole conversation has been filled to the brim with irony.) that as Tony says that he laments how immature they’re acting. Seriously, the guy’s in his nineties, why is he pulling Tony into this? The irony strikes him then and there, as he’s watching Rogers get all riled up. Captain America is practically a kid.

It’s kind of funny to think about. Captain America, the man out of time, he’s only in his twenties. Tony is twenty years older than him, mentally. Now it’s not about fighting his fathers old friend. It’s not even about the fact that this is Captain America, and how anti-patriotic it would be to deck him.

No, Tony wont fight a twenty-something year old. It’s not dignified. It wouldn’t even be fair. Rogers hasn’t had the time to fully develop patience like Tony has. His brain hasn’t aged just as his body hasn’t. No wonder he has such a short fuse, Tony was the same way when he was young.

Something explodes while his brain is having this revelation, and he realizes that this is an attack. Good thing they weren’t fighting each other, then.

Steve helps him up after they’re both thrown across the room from the blast.

“Put on the suit.”

Tony nods, finally agreeing with the man on something.

“Yep.”

Of course they would end up working together to fix the turbine. That’s the way the world works. Rogers hates Tony, and Tony won’t fight him, which seems to be making Rogers more angry. But now all of that has to be put aside for the greater good. Hopefully they’ll be able to do this before another turbine goes down and the whole boat falls from the sky.

“What’s it look like in there?”

Tony really needs this to go well. Surely Rogers can’t be too inept with technology. He’s young, young people are the future of technology! He even understood the Wizard of Oz reference earlier, so he’s sort of up to date, right?

“It seems to run on some form of electricity!”

So much for his optimism. Despite the feeling that this is going to end horribly, his mouth quirks a bit. That’s why it had taken him so long to put together how young Rogers actually is.

Still, this has to be tough for the guy, he’s clearly out of his depth here and is trying to help.

“Well, you’re not wrong.”

He teaches Rogers how to fix the relays, which takes some time given that he can’t personally guide the project. He’s a bit busy clearing the debris from the turbine and trying to keep up with the flying boat’s speed enough to stay beside it. You would think they’d stop moving so he can just hover and do repairs, but no! Although he does suppose that there is quite a bit of commotion happening inside too. Enough to warrant not slowing down, maybe.

“Even if I clear the rotors, this thing won't re-engage without a jump. I'm gonna have to get in there and push.”

“Well if that thing gets up to speed, you'll get shredded!”

Aw, he’s worried. Asshole.

Does this count as laying on the wire? Is this technically superhero-ing right now? Is this enough to prove to Rogers he has the right intentions? He hopes so.

“Then stay in the control unit and reverse polarity long enough to disengage mag-“

“Speak! English!”

Tony nearly laughs. He hadn’t realized how charming Rogers actually is, underneath all of the high and mighty hero stuff.

“Unless, Selvig has figured out how to stabilize the quantum tunneling effect”.

“Well, if he could do that he could achieve Heavy Ion Fusion at any reactor on the planet.” Bruce responds, understanding every word. Oh, Tony might just be in love.

“Finally, someone who speaks English.”

“Is that what just happened?”

It was a sly little comment, but it was there. He should have picked up on it at the time. Captain Rogers is funny.

“See that red lever? It'll slow the rotors down long enough for me to get out. Stand by it, wait for my word.”

He watches the man jump over to the lever, landing a little too close to the edge for comfort. Then instead of dwelling on the fact that he was concerned for Captain America’s safety, he goes into the turbine and starts to push.

While he’s pushing, there’s some gunfire. Also some rushing coming from Director Fury in his earpiece. He wonders if anyone has come out to help Rogers, and then realizes that obviously Rogers can handle himself, so why would anyone? Eventually the turbine feels like it's moving faster than him, so it’s time to get out.

“Cap, I need the lever!”

“I need a minute here!”

Uh oh. That won’t do at all.

“Lever! Now!”

This is so not how he wanted this to go. He falls into a rotor, and slides down into the bottom part of the turbine. He is so screwed. He’s going to break his spine, or his neck. He’s going to die fixing a boat engine. Engine’s are his bitch, he can’t die fixing an engine!

Suddenly the rotors let up, and it only takes Tony a split second to fly out and assess his damage. His suit’s going to give out on him. Any second now surely. He should get out of the air-

Loki’s men are on Rogers with guns, how is that a fair fight?

At least, that’s what he thinks before he tackles one and takes them right through the side of the boat with him, finally hitting the ground and letting the suit turn off.

He can’t quite see anymore, and he can’t quite tell if it's the suit or his eyes that are damaged. He was knocked around quite a bit. Maybe it’s a concussion? He hopes it’s temporary, he can’t work if he’s blind.

Actually, scratch that. That sounds ableist. It also sounds like he’s doubting himself, which he’d never do. He very much can work if he’s blind. Plenty of people do it every day.

He feels tired, a bit hazy. He’d been knocked around maybe too much. Is Steve okay? He looks up, and the captain is jumping back into the ship. Good.

Definitely a concussion, he thinks, letting his head fall back and passing out.

Coulson died. Loki killed him.

Tony hasn’t been on this boat for too long now, but he’s starting to think this is a suicide mission. Agent Coulson was Pepper’s friend; how’s he going to tell her? How will the news reach the cellist he was involved with?

“There was an idea, Stark knows this, called The Avengers Initiative-”

He hasn’t been listening, and was honestly okay with the numb indifference of his thoughts. Anything not to hear Fury’s words. Lies, honestly. There’s no excuse for the arsenal that was being built, regardless of if Fury hadn’t bet on it in the first place. And now- what? He wants to use Tony and the others as the replacement arsenal? They can’t even save one agent, let alone the world.

“…to fight the battles that we never could. Phil Coulson died still believing in that idea, in heroes.”

Tony stands, unable to hear anymore of this. Tony’s no hero. If Coulson was smarter, he never would have believed in heroes in the first place.

“Was he married?”

He looks at Rogers, at his attempt at starting a tough conversation. He sees why everyone likes the guy, really. Even after their almost-fight he comes to attempt to comfort Tony. Tony, for his part, isn’t even sure why he’s taking Coulson’s death so hard. It’s not like they were friends.

He just- well, it feels like this death is on him.

“No. There was a uh...cellist, I think.”

There’s no one to inform about his death. No one to send condolence flowers to. Pepper might mourn, his coworkers may also. The cellist… well, she won't be able to pick up their fling again.

“I'm sorry. He seemed like a good man.”

Steve Rogers has a good heart. He may be quick tempered, but he has a good heart.

“He was an idiot.”

“Why? For believing?”

For believing in them. Believing in this stupid, sorry excuse for a team.

“For taking on Loki alone.”

“He was doing his job.”

Oh, yes, defend the dead guy. Make this argument harder. It was easier to hate Rogers earlier, when he was being irrational.

It circles back to there not always being a way out, and Tony thinks that’s bullshit. He doesn’t take well to being told things are impossible or unavoidable. If something isn’t going to work, he makes it work. Coulson should have thought ahead. He should have waited. He should have-

Better not go down that avenue.

He starts to walk away, and Rogers compares them to soldiers. Right, that makes sense. That’s why Rogers took the death so calmly. He was a soldier in a war. He’s used to losing people and having to move forward immediately. He probably has already figured out how not to blame himself for every death he’s ever witnessed.

“Right now we've got to put that aside and get this done. Now Loki needs a power source, if we can put together a list…”

Tony briefly wonders if it's healthy to compartmentalize like that. It can’t be. But then he spots the blood on the wall and his brain moves on to another thought. Rogers is right, anyway. They need to focus.

“He made it personal.”

“That’s not the point.” Rogers replies, not catching the point just yet.

“That is the point. That's Loki's point. He hit us all right where we live. Why?” He needs to explain. The man will get it if he explains. Sometimes he forgets that not everyone’s brain does the jumps his own does.

“To tear us apart.”

“Yes! Divide and conquer is great, but he knows he has to take us

out to -

win, right? That's what he wants. He wants to beat us and he wants to be seen doing it. He wants an audience.”

“Right,” He’s catching on, thankfully. “I caught his act at Stuttengart.”

“Yeah. That's just previews, this is opening night. Loki's a full-tail diva. He wants flowers, he wants parades, he wants a monument built in the skies with his name plastered…” Tony stops, revelation forming. Steve looks fully interested in wherever this is going.

“Son of a bitch!”

“What?”

“Big ugly building in New York!”

Rogers’ eyes go wide, “Let's go.” He orders, Tony already moving.

The battle was terrifying. There were aliens, gigantic half mechanical half flesh monsters flying around, and a murderous Norse god intent on taking control of the chaos and coming out on top. Tony wonders why NASA or SHEILD has never claimed to have seen the species this army is made up of before. These guys don’t seem very low key, what with all the planetary destruction. He doesn’t believe for a second that no one knew these things were out there.

He makes a mental note to hack the department of defense after he’s eaten his shawarma.

Tony never prepared for this. The only people who were even remotely prepared tried to nuke New York. And then Tony the not-hero, thank you very much, had to fix that problem on top of the other very pressing one. The other problem being aliens. Aliens invading the earth.

Aliens, Jesus Christ.

Afterwards, Loki gets taken to Asgard with Thor via Beam Of Light™️. Fury says the Avengers are all free to go. But Tony does extend the offer for the others to stay at the tower. They can if they need to, not forever or anything. But, if they want to stick around and help clean up the mess. Someone’s gotta, you know?

Romanoff took the offer. Then Bruce because he wants access to a lab like Tony can offer and totally not because he’s excited about their new friendship. Then Clint, who would like to stay close to SHEILD; then begrudgingly, Steve Rogers, who admits that he can’t quite afford life in New York City but would like to stay here. And suddenly the Avengers are piling into Tony’s penthouse, exhausted but still helping get rid of all the broken glass.

He goes to his lab as soon as sleeping situations are settled. (Natasha takes a guest room, Bruce gets another one, Clint and Rogers take the living room.) There’s no need to stick around. The superhero’s crashing in his guest rooms and living room are cleaned and fed, New York is saved (and subsequently the world.). Besides, he needs to start working on better living arrangements if these guys are going to stay. He gets half way through Natasha’s layout for her floor, when Jarvis lowers his music.

“What gives? I was just getting into a groove here!”

“It seems you have a visitor, sir.”

His head whips around, expecting Pepper, but instead he finds Steve Rogers standing on the outside of the glass door looking like a lost puppy in designer hand-me-down sweatpants. Tony sighs, Pepper won't be in until tomorrow. He’d had to do a lot of bribing to get the New York Airport to let his jet land. They have to clear some debris from the runway, fix some of the landing gear, that stuff.

“Shall I let him in, sir?”

“What? Yeah, yeah. Yes. Let the captain in, open the door.”

The door unlocks, allowing Rogers to step into the lab. He looks around in wonder, the exhaustion from the day being covered by the inquisitive nature of humans.

“What’s up, Cap?”

Rogers startles, having gotten distracted by the tech in the room. Then hesitantly, he speaks up.

“This place is really swell, Tony.”

He sounds like he means it so genuinely that Tony doesn’t make a remark about the outdated word choice.

“Well, it’s no flying boat, but it’s home. Speaking of, you’ll love this. Dum-e! C’mere boy!”

If Rogers looked amazed before, he looks absolutely awestruck now.

“Did you make him?” He questions as he reaches out to pet the robot. Dum-E nuzzles his hand and Tony smiles a bit at the sight.

“Yeah. Made Jarvis too, right J?”

“Yes, sir.” Rogers jumps at the sound of Jarvis’ disembodied voice.

“See? They get along too well though. They’ll surpass their old man one day. Too much plotting happening while I’m gone.”

Rogers laughs, “See, now, I would have thought you'd be all for the minds of the future.” He comments sarcastically.

“And usually I’d agree, but I don’t think I’d be happy if the new robot overlord was Dum-E. And hearing you, a twenty-something year old, tell me that the flying boat engine ‘runs on some kind of electricity’, settled it for me. I have no faith in the future of technology.”

The other man snorts, “I’m not exactly a prime example of the youth, man.”

Tony puts up a finger, “Ah, see, I’d believe you if you didn’t just call me ‘man’. I’m gonna start calling you kid.”

Rogers rolls his eyes, ignoring how that prompted a mock scolding on rolling his eyes at his elders. He then sees the current work in progress on Tony’s work space.

“Is this what you’ve been doing down here?”

Tony’s eyes follow Rogers as he walks over to the plans and starts reading them over.

“This is so nice. There’s a floor for each of the Avengers in here! Even Thor and I!”

“Yes, God’s need sleep too. At least I think they do. I’ll have to ask, actually. -And, also, why wouldn’t you have one?”

Tony watches the man's eyes widen as if being caught saying something he hadn’t meant to say out loud. Although as soon as the look of panic shows it’s gone, Rogers turns to hide himself in the plans again.

“Look, I know we didn’t start off on the right foot.” He starts, quieter than before.

Is… is Rogers attempting a reconciliation right now? Tony thinks back to all the thoughts he had earlier, where Howard may have had a fit. And how fitting he thought it was that Captain America hated him, although he wasn’t entirely happy about it. But this might be worse, actually.

“I believe you were being beaten up when we met, actually. And then I swooped in and saved you.”

Rogers immediately regains his volume, “Swooped in and saved me doesn’t sound entirely right.”

“This. Coming from the guy who still calls things swell? I think I’ll keep my phrasing.”

“I had him! You can't save someone who is in control of the situation!”

“You call being beaten up being in control? Please elaborate.”

“I was not getting beat up. I was holding my own.”

“Sure, kid. Is that a bruise?”

Rogers immediately starts feeling around his face. This is hilarious for a number of reasons. One, he has super healing and any bruise would have been gone by now. Two, Captain America looks far more worried about a bruise on his perfect face than when he was saving the world.

“Where?”

“Right- yeah, right there. Where Loki absolutely had the upper hand!”

That comment startles the older/younger man into stunned laughter.

And thats all I’ve got!! Thank you if you made it this far.

#Marvel #marvel mcu #tony stark #steve rogers #marvel fanfiction #fanfiction #Avengers #marvel’s the avengers #bruce banner #hulk #natasha romanoff #Black Widow #Thor #loki #clint barton #hawkeye

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donutloverxo · 5 years ago

Text

Hold onto me

Note - This was a request by a lovely nonnie. And my first entry to august challenge hosted by two lovely friends @navybrat81 and @stargazingfangirl18.I choose the prompt 'I don't deserve you' and 'let me love you, you sad smoll bean'. Cause that's how I feel about Steeb🥺.

Summary - You just want to take care of your sad and overworked soldier.

Warnings - light smut, angst, sad steeb.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - 2.3k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

Steve remembers dragging you to watch the live action remake of Cinderella as soon as it hit the theatres. And how you sweetly giggled at his giddiness calling him 'adorkable'.

Normally he would be annoyed at someone laughing at his expense, as it reminded him of himself before the serum, but not with you.

He couldn’t help but be a ‘fanboy’, another modern slang you taught him, he grew up with those movies, they were reminded him of a simpler time. The remakes weren’t nearly as good but he loved sharing the experience with you.

He was in awe of just how beautiful Cinderella’s dress was. How they took some elements from the animated movie and made them better. He cried when Cinderella’s mother said the words ‘Always be kind and have courage'. It was exactly what his Ma taught him.

Those were the principals he lived by everyday. Being kind to others and never running in the face of adversity.

But he froze when the world was crashing around him. Being attacked from all sides, so much murder, such mayhem. So many lives lost, and for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why. What was the purpose of all this destruction.

He tried his best. To save as many as he could. To be the captain. Make the hard choices. People expected him to be brave. To be heartless and objective. To not let the missions and the lives lost affect him.

It was tiring to pretend. To put the mask on, not just his patriotic blue cowl, but the one he wore to work everyday. Being stern and grave. Yeah he was big and intimidating but underneath it all he’ll always just be the little guy.

He groaned, the steps creaking under the weight of his foot, exhausted from his long day of fighting the enemies on the battlefield, then Ross and then pushing paperwork. He hasn’t slept in three days.

But right now sleep or his rumbling stomach wasn’t his priority. All he could think about was you. How he hasn’t seen you in so long. Yeah maybe three days isn’t that long but it felt akin to an eternity to him.

Just two more floors. Somehow the creaking kept getting louder. When he moved in with you, in an apartment in the heart of Brooklyn, he felt it was old but had character. Now looking at the state of it and your neighbors, he’s having second thoughts. He can’t leave you for days or even weeks at a time in this place. There’s no way it could be safe.

He knocked on the door, his enhanced hearing picked up that you were in the shower. So he twisted the doorknob. Only to find you had left it unlocked. Again.

He sighed chugging his shoes and jacket off and crashing on the bed. A hand under his head, he stared at the little stickers of stars and planets you stuck on it, glowing a faint neon green in the dark. He patiently waited for you. Feeling better as he was surrounded by your smell. He was home.

“Oh Stevie!” You exclaimed when you saw him lying on the bed. Rushing over to him you sat next to him, kissing his forehead, cheeks, nose and then his lips. Lingering there for a minute you pulled away to see his warm smile.

“Hey doll.” He greeted caressing your cheek. You leaned into his touch, craving the warmth and the comfort it provided. “You left the door unlocked.” He said trying his best to keep his annoyance at bay.

“Oh yeah I must’ve forgot.” You shrugged.

“You can’t forget” He groaned and sternly called out your name. It was rare of him to use your name. Always opting instead to use sweet nicknames like doll or sugar. “We need to move to an apartment with better security.” He shook his head feeling his whole body ache and his muscles completely sore.

“Fine. We can discuss it I guess.” You mumbled not exactly thrilled to have him school you as soon as he got back.

“In the meantime I need you to promise me you’ll always lock the door.” He said looking at you intently.

“Yeah fine I promise.” You huffed and blew a small raspberry at him to which he frowned. “I doubt a locked door is stopping hydra though.” You quipped.

And he had to rub his temples to sooth the headache you were giving him.

His other hand was still on your face. Because yeah you were being difficult but he needed to touch you. To know that you’re tangible and really there with him.

His touch felt more calloused and harsh than it usually does. You looked at his hand to see his skin was red, some of it peeled off. It looked like it was healing. You couldn’t even imagine how bad it must’ve been just a few hours ago. “What happened here?” You cooed touching his face only to hear him hiss. You quickly shifted to turn on the bedside lamp but his hand stopped you, circling around your wrist.

“Doll don’t.” He said trying to keep the gruffness from his voice but it slipped out. There was no lying to you. You knew him in and out. “Just come here.” He requested opening his arms, hoping you’d lay your head on his chest so he could smell your hair, maybe run his hands through it. The silky texture of it always soothed him the best.

You only huffed folding your hands. “No I’ll hurt you.” You never believed the day would come that you turned down cuddling with the giant you had for a boyfriend. Who gives off heat as if he’s a furnace.

The room was dim, with the only light coming from your windows, but you could tell that he was probably pouting. Who knew captain America could be so needy? Not that you’d ever mind.

You shifted a bit towards the headboard and gently laid his head from the pillow to your lap. “You know I should be the one taking care of you right now.” You lightly scratching his scalp with your nails and playing with the short strands of his golden hair. Which somehow still seemed to shine.

“I don’t know about that. I think the man should always be taking care of his girl.” He hummed feeling dizzy and relaxed under your touch.

You scoffed “Who told you that? This isn’t a one sided relationship. As much as I like being dotted on, you deserve the world too babe.” You ranted petting his forehead “I wish you could see that.” You sighed “You don’t always have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders you know?”

He hummed again. “Well I’m not gonna burden you with it.”

And you wanted to argue. You really did. But it wasn’t the right time. You made a mental note of giving him hell for it when he seems even slightly better. To threaten to withhold your sweet kisses he loved so much if he doesn’t open up. If it comes to that.

He groaned shifting on his back and crackling his neck. You put his head back on the pillow and stood up to work on unzipping his jeans. “Hey hey buy a fella dinner first would you?” You grinned as he teased.

He lifted his hips to help you out and you put the jeans on your dresser, digging for your eucalyptus oil in it. “Aha!” You gushed to yourself when you found it and skipped over to his side instantly. You pulled up the helm of black Henley “Off with this..” You said asking for some assistance from him.

He sat up and suppressed a groan as his back muscles strained at the sudden movement. He searched for your face “You know I love you and uh... making love to you.” He muttered under his breath and was glad to you couldn’t see his flushed face. How he had no shame doing such dirty things to you but couldn’t for the life of him talk about them, he had no idea.

“But I’m just so tired. I’m sorry doll.” He said tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. He had never turned you down before, he was nervous that he had let you down. He’d been letting a lot of people down lately. Even if he had the best intentions.

“No silly...” you shook your head “Just take it off” You pulled the thing and he held his arms up to pull it off. “I promise I won’t take advantage of you.” You pressed a kiss over his heart and laughed at your own incredulous statement.

He let out a chuckle too and pressed his lips to the top of your head. Finally getting to smell your beautiful scent and your coconut shampoo he loved so much.

“Will you lay on your stomach for me please?” You asked fluttering your lashes at him.

And he could only smile. You didn’t have to butter him up, he’d really do whatever you asked him to.

He laid on his taut stomach, propping his head up by putting both his hands under it. He looked at you move over his shoulder.

You poured some oil in your palms and rubbed them together to warm them up. “Um is it okay if I sit on your back?” you asked pressing your palms on his lower back.

“Have at it.” He replied.

You straddled his lower back, careful to not put too much pressure and putting your weight on your calves. “Loosen up a bit Stevie.” You purred.

You felt the knots in his back loosening up when you applied just the right amount of pressure below his neck with your thumbs. He was moaning and purring, making all sorts of sinful noises as you worked on his back.

You wondered if it’s because of the serum. You weren’t that great at it, you knew that. But all of Steve’s sense were hypersensitive. Maybe he felt your massage better because of that. It was an interesting idea.

“Do your hands hurt baby?” He drawled. You were happy to know that you were doing something right if he relaxed like that.

“Uh...” They were starting to hurt. But you needed to tend to Steve. Your hurt was nothing compared to hiss. He was out there saving the whole world everyday.

He looked over his shoulder at you sensing the hesitation in your tone. “It’s okay sweetheart. Let’s go to bed.”

You nodded putting the bottle away and climbing into bed with him. “Turn around doll” He instructed.

You laid on your side with your back pressed against his chest. You could feel his chiselled abs and the curves and dips of his torso. What you wouldn’t give to run your hands or your lips down it.

He snaked his hand up your tank and drew small circles around your navel. “This always happens when we cuddle.” He rumbled rolling his hips against yours. “You’re so soft baby” He squeezed the curve of your hip “I can’t help it.” He whispered in your ear before pulling it between his teeth.

You could only moan and try so hard not to give into him. You slapped his hip so as to stop his ministrations. “Maybe tomorrow. I want to be able to walk to work. Thank you very much.” You huffed hugging his hand, which was curled around your waist, close you and slipping it between your breasts.

You closed your eyes trying to count sheep. But sleep wouldn’t come. Not until you knew that Steve was asleep as well. “What happened on the mission Steve?” You tentatively asked. Hoping that you weren’t being too invasive. Maybe you should give him more space? You just needed him to feel light.

“You don’t have to worry about that doll.” He answered kissing your temple.

You turned around to face him so you could see the silhouette of his face. “I always worry for you Steve. I just – I don’t know – want you to feel like you can’t depend on me or trust me.”

“I do trust you.” Be stated “Alright... so we try our best to save everyone. But we can’t always do that. People get hurt.” He took a deep breathe, not used to saying these things out loud. “they call it collateral damage” he scoffed “Ends justify the means in this world. Or maybe that’s how it’s always been.” He finished.

You took in the weight of his words “I understand. But that doesn’t make it any less shitty though.”

“No it does not.” He mused. “It’s somehow worse now. I think about you. And how I need to protect you too. I don’t think I could ever bear losing you.” He confessed.

“You won’t ever lose me Stevie.” You promised.

“How did I get to be so lucky to have you? I don’t deserve you.” He wondered bringing your fingers closer to his lips.

“I don’t know, maybe people would argue you’re the lucky one.” You retorted.

“Well then they’re clearly blind.” He frowned at the thought of anyone being mean to you.

“Alright lover boy. Go to sleep now.” You said putting your head on his shoulder. “Isn’t it nice to be back in your own bed?” You asked as you nuzzled his neck.

“You have no idea doll.” He murmured.

Tags will be in the reblog! Lemme know if you wanna be tag via ask/dms or click the link in the bio!

Please note that my work is NOT to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

#shamelesshoesforchris #steve rogers x reader #chris evans x you #steve x reader #reader x steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america x you #captain america x reader #marvel x reader #chris evans x reader #Avengers x reader

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wearebrokenintheend · 5 years ago

Text

Pedro Pascal x Reader

Words: 4735 (I got caught up in this)

Warnings: Smut, daddy kink, slow burn, strangers to lovers, age gap, reader is at least 20ish, also fluffy fluff 💕

+ Here’s the song I had on repeat while writing the smut. Just thought it would enhance the experience 💖

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was my parents’ annual Fourth of July party, where all of our family and close friends were invited to gather at our house for food, alcohol, and fun explosives. They began this tradition when I was small child, and never failed to make it more extravagant than the last. I grew up in such a patriotic household due to the fact that my father was a retired navy officer, and my mom was one of those people who will celebrate anything when she gets the chance. I was always encouraged to praise my country and heritage, especially on National holidays.

Of course, I loved celebrating with my family, and I loved our parties. The only thing that bothered me was how my parents would act during the parties. They’d drink all day and night and leave their worries behind, while I had to clean up and make sure that nothing bad happened to them or anyone else. I know that it’s good for everyone to just cut back and let loose every now and then, but there was a fine line between the letting loose and being a pain to everyone around you.

The thing about this years party was that I was finally allowed to drink, which meant that I too would be in on the fun, at least that’s what I assumed. It was hard to be surrounded by drunk adults having the time of their lives while I was stuck in the background sulking. Of course there were always some kids to hang out with, but I always ended up being left out.

While greeting everyone and joining different conversations, I spotted my Uncle walking into the yard with an extremely attractive man at his side. Immediately, I left the group of a few people to walk over to him. Our eyes locked and my Uncle smiled and held out his arms for a hug.

“Ah, y/n, it’s been too long since I’ve seen my favorite niece!” He greeted, wrapping his arms around me and squeezing playfully like he did when I was a child.

“Hey Uncle Dave,” I replied, smiling in his embrace. “I’ve missed you too.”

As we broke apart, I looked towards the handsome stranger, content with holding myself back from gawking at him. Something about him felt so familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

“Oh, this is my good friend Pedro.” He looked toward Pedro, “This is my niece, y/n. My brothers daughter.”

Pedro smiled and nodded at me, holding out his hand and shaking mine.

“It’s so nice to meet you, y/n.” He looked back at my uncle, “You never told me how beautiful she was.” He said with a slight laugh.

My uncle playfully narrowed his eyes at him, “Don’t make me kick your ass, Pedro.”

They both shared a laugh before my father spotted his brother, pulling him away and leaving Pedro and I alone.

“So how did you and my uncle meet?” I asked, wanting to know more about him.

“Oh, Dave and I met when we were filming a show of mine. We ended up spending a lot of time together on set and started spending even more time out of work.”

I nodded and smiled, remembering that my uncle was a writer and producer in Hollywood. Suddenly it clicked in my head, I knew this man. He was THE Pedro Pascal. I first met him on screen as Oberyn Martell, whom I had a crush on in the asoiaf book series.

He must’ve noticed my eyes growing slightly wider and recognized the moment of realization.

“I see that you know who I am now, correct?” He stated, breaking me away from my thoughts.

I looked up at him, feeling a deep blush burn across my face.

“Uh, yeah, you’re Pedro Pascal. I’m uh, I’m a big fan of yours.”

He laughed,

“Well maybe not enough if you couldn’t recognize me right away.”

I let out an awkward laugh and he smiled softly back at me.

“Don’t worry y/n, I’m only teasing. It happens a lot more often than you might think.”

I just nodded and found myself tucking a strand of loose hair behind my ears. Pedro noticed and leaned down to whisper into my ear.

“You’re very beautiful, y/n. Especially when you get all flustered like this.”

He pulled away and looked around to make sure no one was paying much attention to us. Meanwhile, I was taken aback that someone like him would ever like someone like me. I mean, yeah I was pretty, usually on a good day, but I wasn’t anything like the women I knew he’d been around.

Taking a sip of my wine from a plastic cup, I scanned my surroundings. I noticed that my parents and uncle were all preoccupied with the other guests, leaving no room for any unwanted attention. Then I suddenly felt a bit lightheaded, and I stumbled back a few inches. Pedro immediately grabbed my arm to keep me steady, then leaving it there once I locked eyes with him.

“Shit, I don’t know what just happened to me. Maybe I’m more of a lightweight then I thought.” I half-laughed, earning me a smirk from Pedro.

“Don’t worry, you’re still young and you’ve got plenty of time to get used to it.”

After giving him an amused smirk, I took another swing of my drink.

“You’re right, but I’m afraid if I try it all too fast then I might end up in the emergency room, or worse.”

With a sigh, I noticed my cup was finally empty, so I turned myself toward the house to get more. Something deep inside knew that I’d have to have even more alcohol to keep calm around Pedro.

“Hey, I think I’m gonna head inside for another drink, or maybe just sit down for a bit to get out of this heat.”

Pedro have me an understanding look, but I saw the slight disappointment in his eyes. I couldn’t believe that this man actually wanted to be around me.

“I mean, you can join me if you want. I just thought you’d want to meet the rest of my family or something.”

“Oh I don’t know, I don’t want to intrude or anything.”

I rolled my eyes and let out a soft snort.

“Oh don’t be ridiculous, Pedro. You’re the best company I’ve ever had at one of this things.”

He beamed at me and I looked around one last time, hoping everyone else was still preoccupied. I mean, I didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea - wait, why did I suddenly care what everyone thought of me? Was I really that afraid? I shrugged my thoughts off and gave Pedro my hand. He grabbed it without missing a beat, and I lead him to the back door.

Once we entered the house, I walked toward the fridge, opening it and grabbing myself a hard iced tea.

“Would you like anything?”

“Yeah, I’ll have a beer, y/n.”

Hearing him say my name made your insides melt; I had to fight to keep myself on my feet. I found myself falling so hard for a man who had only met me maybe half and hour ago. Rolling my eyes at myself, I grabbed him a beer and walked over to the sofa.

“Here ya go, Pedro.”

I sat myself right next to him, our thighs touching. It made my nerves go all haywire, and I couldn’t control them anymore.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

There was a pause after he spoke, his words lingering like fingertips on my chest. I wanted him to call me endearing names like that for the rest of my life.

Pedro broke my train of thought by clearing his throat, trying to ease the awkward tension in the room. So it wasn’t just me who felt this way. I looked up at him, our eyes meeting once again.

“Pedro, pl-please tell me it’s not just me.”

He stops himself from responding by pursing his lips. He looked as though he had all kinds of internal conflict to suddenly deal with. After a few seconds past, he looked towards his hands. Then he moved to grab mine, taking my by surprise. He brings my hands to his lips and feathers his lips against my skin, leaving soft, slight kisses. As much I was wanted this moment to last a lifetime, I couldn’t help but satisfy my eager self. I decided to pull my hand away and replace them with my own lips, crushing them against his at last. I could feel Pedro’s slight shock at first, and then he quickly turned back to his calm demeanor. Eventually we pulled away from each other to catch ourselves. All I could notice was his bright grin, practically radiating our surroundings.

“Woah.” I muttered, my breathing still slightly heavy.

“Yeah.” He replied, running a hand through his dark hair.

It was at that moment that I knew I wanted this man to fuck me into the morning light, and I wanted him to start as soon as possible. Pedro then gave me a quizzical look, practically begging to know what I was thinking. I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and unlocked it, going to my contacts section and starting a new one.

“Put your number in my phone.”

He looked down at my phone and back at me, grabbing it and putting his name and number in.

“Okay, so I’ve got a plan to get you in my room without anyone noticing we’re gone for too long.”

Pedro’s eyes widened, his eyebrows raising dramatically. I smiled in response to his unspoken question, blushing once again at him.

“But, only if you want to, of course.”

“And what exactly do we want to do?”

I gulped, my mouth dry as I was suddenly at a loss for words.

“Hm?”

I leaned onto him, my lips hovering over his ear. I bit my lip before confessing my desire to him, for him.

“I want you in me. I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk.”

Pedro was left stunned by my request, but I could see the part of him that wanted me more than anything. He gulped and then let out a long, heavy breath.

“Are you sure this is what you want, y/n?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay, what’s the plan?”

“We go outside together, and then separate. I go find my parents and tell them that I don’t feel good and that I’m going to bed. Then when I’m ready, I’ll text you.”

“What do I say if someone asks where I’m going?”

“Just make something up, like you need to go to the bathroom, or you need to lay down. I don’t know.”

He gave me an unsure look, but I raised my fingers to his cheek and he nodded. We both got up from the couch and made our way to the back door. Once we were outside, I spotted my mom and made a beeline for her.

“Hey mom, I-“

“Oh, y/n! I was starting to worry about you. Now that you’re here we can start the fireworks!”

“Yeah, about that, uh...mom, I think I drank a bit too much and now I don’t feel so hot. I think it’s best if I just head in for the night.”

My mother gave me a slightly disappointed look, knowing how much I enjoyed the fireworks.

“Oh, well, I suppose you should. I’d hate for you to miss everything, though.”

“I’ll be fine mom. I’ve got plenty of years left.”

“Goodnight sweetheart. Don’t forget to take something to help you sleep.”

“I will mom. Love you.”

As soon as I was able to, I walked back to the house. I spotted Pedro with my uncle and dad, and all I could think was how he was gonna get away from them. Would they have any idea what we’d be doing? No, I can’t think like that. I need this. I need Pedro.

I reached my bedroom and saw that I had some clothes and cups scattered around. I quickly cleaned everything up and made sure to spray some air freshener around. I undressed and put on my sexiest pair of undies and bra, then redressing. I put out and lit some candles to soothe the tone of my surroundings, hoping that Pedro would like it. Lastly, I found the box of condoms that I kept in the back of my nightstand for whatever. I then noticed that they weren’t open. Of course. I’ve never been able to bring a guy home and actually sleep with him. Well, there’s a first for everything.

As soon as I was ready, I found Pedro’s contact and texted him.

* Hey, I’m ready for you ;)

I waited for a few minutes until he replied.

* Okay baby girl. I’m on my way now ;)

I let out a quiet shriek of excitement at the fact that he called my baby girl. This is finally happening! Suddenly there was a knock on my door.

“Come in.”

Pedro swiftly opened and shut the door before taking a long look at me. He licked his lips as he walked towards me sitting on the end of my bed. I shot up and wrapped my arms around him, the two of us just looking at each other. I broke his gaze and slammed my lips against his, my tongue immediately slipping into his mouth. He growled as he pushed us onto the bed, the feeling of his clothed dick against my leg driving me crazier. Once he started kissing on my neck, I began lifting his shirt up his torso, begging for him. He helped me remove it, giving me a chance to take in his beautiful body.

“I hope I haven’t disappointed you yet.”

“Oh, I can already tell that you won’t.”

We smiled at each other before I removed my own shirt and bra for him. Pedro smiled bigger and leaned back down to run his lips against my breast. His mouth began teasing at my left nipple while he used his hand to play with my right one. I let out my first moan of the night, attracting Pedro’s immediate attention. His head shot up, and I saw the lust in his dark eyes. I nodded to let him know that I truly wanted this, that I needed this. He grinned in response, returning his attention to my breast. Now taking my right nipple into his mouth, he used his hands to roam my sides. Every inch he touched had lit up like a dull burning flame. The heat was rising and spreading all over, but never enough the painfully burn me. It was a heat that I had only ever dreamt of feeling. I realized that it wasn’t the feeling of Pedro touching me that lit my fire; it was Pedro himself that lit my fire. He lit it and made me burn brighter then I could have ever thought possible. It was at this very moment that I began to understand how much this man truly meant to me.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?”

Pedro asked, pulling me out of my thoughts to notice him looked towards me. I hadn’t noticed that he stopped, or that I was breathing heavily and slightly shaking.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. I just got lost in my head for a bit.”

Damn it, I ruined the mood for him! Now he probably thinks I was so bored that I drifted off. Why am I always getting stuck in my thoughts? I mean, the only ever make things worse for me.

“I-you’re fine, Pedro. I promise.”

“Okay y/n, if you say so.”

He reached up from my torso to place a tender kiss on my forehead, then one on my lips. I could taste the beer from his mouth, further intoxicating me. I let out a soft plea for me and Pedro let out another growl, his teeth now grazing my bottom lip as he pulled away from the kiss to focus his mouth on my neck and collarbone. He started at the corner of my mouth and made his way down my neck. His warm, hot breath sending shivers down my spine. Once he had kissed my skin he began sucking and gently biting, making sure to leave just the slightest of marks. He wanted to make sure that only I could notice them tomorrow morning, after he was long gone. The thought alone made my heart melt with pure joy. Pedro had cared about me enough to leave his mark. He wanted me to know that he wanted me. Not just at this very moment, but even after. He wanted to make the best first impression he possibly could. I softly bucked my hips up against his, begging for some kind of friction from him. He let out a short chuckle, looking back at me and caressing my face in his hands.

“Don’t worry, baby girl. Daddy’s gonna take good care of you.”

My body let out a hum of delight, his words filling my heart and lower abdomen with butterflies.

“Please daddy. I need you now.”

I begged with all of my heart and soul, wanting to let him know just how much I meant what I said. He needed to understand that I was clay in his hands, waiting to be molded and created.

After what seemed like hours of waiting, Pedro left my upper body and pulled off my shorts. He positioned himself to place kisses on my inner thigh, making sure to leave more marks on me. I knew he could see and feel the warmth pooling at my center, he knew how ready I was. Yet he continued to tease me like this. Asshole.

Just as I was about to say something, he looked up into my eyes as he began using his teeth to remove my panties. The sheer sight alone was almost enough to send me off. This is the kind of shit I thought only happened in romance novels or something. Surely no man was ever this willing to go through all this trouble to further turn a woman on. But here he was, giving his all to please little old me. I felt my mouth pull into a genuine smile, my cheeks burning at my complete vulnerability and nakedness before him.

Once he got to my knees, he used his fingers to remove the fabric. I lifted my legs to help, feeling slightly guilty that he was doing all the work. After my clothing was strewn out on floor, Pedro took another longing look at me, doing his best to remember every inch of me in this moment. I could tell that he never wanted to forget this, and I never wanted to either. He then let out a soft breath.

“You’re so beautiful, mi amor.”

He spoke as if he were in a trance, like the sight of my body enough to completely hypnotize him.

“I’m all yours, daddy.”

My words snapped Pedro out of his thoughts, his eyes darting to meet mine. He licked his lips and hovered down between my legs. I spread my legs to give him more access. He wasted no time and gingerly places his lips on my folds. The sudden warmth made my shiver, my sex quivering for him. I let out a sigh of relief, but there was still an enormous amount of frustration in my body.

“I need you now, Pedro. Please. Please daddy.”

Pedro chuckled, the sound vibrating against me, tingling my bundle of nerves.

“Anything for you, baby girl.”

He then inserted two digits, spreading them apart to help adjust me for his length. He made sure to swirl his fingers around a bit, and then pump them in and out of me. I could hear my wetness through my groans, further turning me on.

Just as I was beginning to get used to his fingers, he pulled them out and put them in his mouth. The sight of him sucking my juices off of his own fingers was an absolute dream. This man kept on amazing me with his dedication to me. He lifted himself off the bed to remove his jeans and briefs. His cock sprung out of its restraints, almost completely erect already. In a swift movement, he grabbed the condom from the side of the bed and tore it open. All I could do was fixate on him rolling it onto himself. I found myself wanted to watch him pump himself, I wanted to see him finish himself.

“God you’re so fucking hot when you look at me like that, baby. It turns me on so fucking much.”

I smiled a shy grin, my cheeks flushing once again. Pedro bent down to give me a hungry kiss, his tongue now exploring my mouth. He pulled away and positioned himself to enter me. He pulled my body towards the end of the bed, my legs leaning of the end. His grip on my thighs tightened, pushing his cock to my entrance. With a rough inhale, he slowly slid into me, making sure I was alright.

“You can tell me if anything hurts, sweetheart. I’m more than willing to take my time.”

I looked up at him, shaking my head.

“No, Pedro, I’m fine. Really. You’re doing perfect, baby. So fucking perfect.”

He nodded and finally pushed himself all the way into me. He quickly pulled out, my slickness aiding him. Then he began to slide in and out, his tempo growing faster with every thrust. Before I could gather myself together, he started swirling his thumb on my clit. He was sending me further than I ever thought I could go. Without missing a beat, my body reacted to his thrusts and rubbing by releasing itself. I felt myself fucking squirting on him. As soon as he noticed, he let out a deep groan of delight.

“Oh fucking yes, baby. That’s it. Squirt all over daddy.”

I noticed my moans growing louder and louder with each movement he made. I was grabbing at my bedsheets, begging for release. The tension was building up in me faster than I could handle. I also began letting out high pitched moans, reminding myself of a porn star or something. It sounded so unrealistic to me, almost overdramatic. But here I was, putting no effort into these noises, all of them purely natural responses.

“Yes, yes, fuck fuck fuck.”

I muttered, almost forgetting how to speak through this euphoria.

“I’m so fucking close daddy!”

My lower abdomen had a feeling of tight coils being bunched together, tighter and tighter with every breath. I knew that I only had seconds before they would release.

“Yes baby girl, that’s it. Come for daddy.”

Pedro sped up his pace on my clit and thrusted harder, hitting my sweet spot. Within a few more thrusts, I felt it hit me. My climax had began and I was now riding off my own high. My eyes had slammed shut and tears were forming in them. I let out a squeal of absolute pleasure, my body almost convulsing from the amount of pure release. I managed to grab Pedro’s arms and began to squeeze, trying to find some sort of stability through my high. I was practically screaming for him at this point, not knowing what else to do. I’d only ever experienced a few climaxes this intense before, and they had all been a long while ago.

Pedro had begun his climax as soon as my walls tightened around him as I started mine. His cock twitched inside me, growing softer by the second. He let out a bundle of english and spanish curses, his grip on my hips tightening as much as mine on him. As soon as he was finished, he pulled out and removed his condom. He tied the end and tossed in it my trash bin by my nightstand. While he did so, I was still left in a daze, stuck staring up at my ceiling. It felt as though my life had been complete, for I had experienced the greatest high known to man. There was nothing else left that could ever compare to that feeling. I had reached the very top.

“You thinking again, honey?”

Pedro had put on his briefs and jeans, then his shirt. He’d gathered my clothes and placed them beside my on the bed.

“Yeah. Just thinking about nothing.”

He simply nodded and sat on my bed. I lifted myself up to put on my panties and went to my dresser to grab a t-shirt to sleep in. I found my oversized Fleetwood Mac shirt and slid it on, turning around to face Pedro. He took a look at my shirt and grinned.

“You’ve got a taste for men and music. You’re my dream girl.”

We both laughed as I laid myself on my bed. I cover myself with the duvet and reached out to touch Pedro’s lap.

“Are you gonna leave now?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so, though. You’re much more entertaining than anything outside, my dear.”

He slid himself under my covers, cuddling me in his arms, kissing me. I felt at home; I felt truly complete. A part of me knew that this is what I want for the rest of my life. Pedro was the key to my happiness. I would never be the same without him, and I needed to keep him forever. I internally shook my head at my own self. I’m turning into a fucking sap for this man. I knew that we would never work out, but my heart still ached for him.

I placed my hand on his cheek, my thumb caressing his face. His slight stubble creating a pleasing friction against my skin.

“So what exactly did you see in me?”

He looked almost shocked at my question, completely caught off guard.

“What do you mean?”

“Why did you find me so attractive that you’re currently risking your life to sleep with me?”

He chuckled and shook his head, rubbing his thumb on my face as I did his.

“I just saw something different in you. The way you held yourself, the way you looked me in the eyes as we talked. You were completely sincere in every way, and you have this undeniable charm about you. You’re so intoxicating to me.”

My heart swelled at his words. Was I really like that? I mean, I try my best to be nice to everyone I meet, but I didn’t think I was so full of compassion. I never really thought that I was different in a good way, or that I even stood out to anyone. I felt tears growing in my eyes, slowly sliding down my face. Pedro suddenly looked concerned, worried that he’d said something wrong.

“I’m sorry, was that not what you wanted to hear? I-I mean-“

“No Pedro, it was more than what I could’ve ever expected. No ones ever said anything so kind about me. I don’t think anyone has ever given me much thought before.”

“Well then everyone else is a fucking idiot, sweetheart. You’re everything and then some, and only a fool would miss something as incredible as that.”

We pulled together and kissed once again, our hands wrapped around each other in a longing embrace. I pulled away and smiled at Pedro.

“Now when did you figure out that I had a thing for you? Or for older guys in general?”

I teased him, giving him a toothy grin. He lightly pushed me away while I burst out giggling.

“Sweetheart, I knew you had a thing for older men the minute we met. I saw how you looked at me before you even knew who I was. I saw the thirst in your eyes.”

I blinked at him, slightly embarrassed at my own self for being so easy to read like that.

“Was it really that obvious?”

“Definitely, and you know what?”

“What?”

Pedro paused, reaching towards me to tuck a stray piece of my hair behind my ear. Then he placed a soft kiss on my nose, his thumb gently caressing my cheek.

“I totally fucking loved it.”

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#pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #oberyn martell #narcos #kingsmen #oscaar isaac #fluff #smut

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