#he's literally meant to come in and say “Look how much stronger than a Captain this guy is”

[swan2swan]

Timely reminder that Grimmjow is, in fact, a Vasto Lorde.

We never saw his pre-Arrancar form, but the whole conclusion of his backstory was his men allowing him to tear a piece of themselves off so he could reach the final stage. That's where his mane and spikes came from.

[letstalkaboutshtufff]

A Bad Feeling Pt 1

Levi x Reader

Part 1

Paring: Levi Ackerman x Cadet reader

Warnings: 18+ attempted rape/assault, cursing, mention of injury, violence

Summary: Reader feels uncomfortable around a overly friendly captain. Are they just over reacting? Or is there something else going on. What will Levi do when he finds out?

***************************************************

A.n. ok so I literally wrote this in one go, it's probably trash but I wanted to post it anyway. Please lemme know what you think in the comments! Thank you!

"Y/n! captain Oro is asking for you" you did your best to hide the discomfort Armins words made you feel.

You smiled what you hoped was a convincing one and nodded. With a deep breath you made your way to Captains Oro's office.

Ever since you had been introduced to him those few weeks ago, he had taken a special liking to you. At first you had been excited, having such a highly skilled and well known captain take notice of you was one of the best feelings. Especially since your squad leader, Levi wasn't exactly heavy on praise.

Everyone loved Captain Oro, he was known for his strength and stamina on the battle field. He was both charismatic, and charming. Your fellow cadets practically swooned over him. You couldn't help but also get caught up in his perfection. At first that is..

Over time you noticed things about your meetings that put you on edge. An unnecessary shoulder touch here, a too low pat on the back there. Something was off. And although you had done your best to distance yourself from him, it was hard when your squads often had to work together.

But it was hard to say anything against him because even your cold blooded captain seemed to enjoy his presence.

Once you brought it up to your friend Sasha, about how you felt he was being too friendly. But she waved her hand and basically said you were worrying for nothing, he was just a friendly guy. And you were being dramatic.

Maybe you were overreacting? If captain levi approved of him, surely that meant he was a decent person right? Maybe he was just being really really friendly.

You decided to give him a chance and knocked on his door when you finally arrived.

"Come in" a muffled voice came from the other side.

With a click you entered the candlelit room. It was nearing sundown after all.

"Ah cadet y/n! Perfect, I was wondering if I might ask your opinion on something?" He smiled angelically and gestured towards a parchment on his desk.

"Of course sir" you nodded and approached him, reminding yourself of what sasha said. Just relax.

From the way the parchment was positioned you had no choice but to come to his side of the desk.

"Do you see this area here?" He gestured to what you now saw was a map. "What do you think of leading a squad through here instead of what we originally planned?"

The next 30 minutes you spent completely and professionally discussing strategies. Being the member of your squad that was best at this, made him asking for you completely justified. You felt bad for ever doubting his intentions.

"Thank you y/n, I think I have a better idea of what course we should pursue on our next expedition" he smiled sincerely.

"I'm glad I could be of service" you nodded and allowed a relaxed smile to pass your features. Feeling stupid you had judged him so harshly.

" If you wouldnt mind just one more thing?" You nodded as he pulled out a stack of papers.

"If you could look over this report of the last mission before I send it out? See if theres anything else to add?"

"Sure, I'd be happy to Captain" you grabbed the stack.

"And please if you can, return them to me tonight, I'll need them for the meeting bright and early"

"Yes sir, I'll finish it asap, good evening" and with that you exused yourself.

Tonight? It was already sundown. Well whatever, hes so busy he probably doesn't know what time of day it is.

You found a quiet spot amonsgt the crowds in the common room and got to work.

************************************

"Oi brat, it's passed curfew, go to your room now, we have important work tommorow" the unmistakable voice of your captain rang through the now empty hall.

You looked up in surprise and meet his usual scowl, not even realizing how late it had gotten.

"Hai, s-sorry captain, I'll go now" you gathered the report and quickly left, not wanting to receive another scolding for taking too long.

Oh crap you still had to deliever the report. Changing routes you snuck quietly down the familiar hallways. Not particularly feeling like running into Levi again. Something about him always made you act just a little dumber and it was definitely not because of your non existent crush on him...definitely not.. he was just intimidating is all.

*knock knock*

You waited patiently but there was no answer. Crap did he already go to bed? But he knew I was coming? Ugh what should I do? He needs these reports..

With a sigh you change direction again and head for his personal chambers. There was no way you were getting in trouble for not delivering these reports on time.

You smiled when you saw dim light flood from beneath the door.

Lightly you knocked, "Captain Oro, its y/n, sorry it's so late but I have the rep-" you were cut off abruptly when the door swung open and there stood Oro.

Except he looked nothing like the Oro you were used too seeing. His hair was loose from it's normal slicked back do, and the edges were dripping slightly. His shirt was loosely thrown on revealing a decent amount of skin. He must've just bathed.. you could see why the girls were so obsessed with him. He was, platonically speaking, a very gorgeous man.

You were taken aback but reminded yourself that you did knock after hours so of course he wasnt going to be all soldiered up.

"U-um s-sorry Captain, I have the reports" you averted your eyes and shoved the reports in his direction.

"Ah y/n, thank you, would you please put them on my table? My hands are still slightly wet." He laughed holding them up innocently.

"S-sure" god why were you stuttering so much, you fight goddamn titans for a living?! But somehow you were more nervous now than when a 10meter was clawing at you.

You entered the room and tried to avoid looking around too much.

You always wondered what the inside of the higher ups rooms look-

*click*

You whipped around, alarm bells suddenly back in full force.

"Captain what are you-"

"You're such a good girl, you know that y/n?" Oros whole demeanor changed and you cursed yourself for not trusting your earlier instincts.

"U-um" you really did not know what to say or do as he took a couple steps closer.

"Always so obedient for me, I think you deserve a reward don't you?"

Shit

"That's not...that's not necessary captain, I really should be going" you tried to lunge for the door but he was quicker and much much stronger.

"I don't believe I dismissed you cadet..." he purred pinning your arms to the door in the blink of an eye.

You were by no means weak, but your struggles were useless against him.

"Let me go" it took all your strength not to stutter in fear.

"How adorable, you know I love it when you follow my orders so well, but I think..." you shivered in disgust as you felt his lips near your neck and press down.

"I'd like to see you fight me as well" you whimpered as he sucked and bit down on the soft flesh.

"S-stop it, p-please" he smirked and looked into your fearful eyes with his lustful ones. "Stop? But that's not what you really want is it? You see I know exactly how girls like you are" he chuckled darkly and moved one of his hands to grip both your arms, while the other slid lower. You gasped when he cupped your breast. "S-stop! I'll, ill scream If you don't!" You felt a tear slide down your shaking form.

"Scream?" He snickered like you had told the funniest joke.

"Go ahead and scream doll, itll be very interesting to see what happens"

"W-what?" You were utterly confused.

"Think about it, if someone walks in on us, what would they think? Seeing a cadet after hours in her superiors chambers?"

"B-but I! I was bringing the reports i wasn't-!"

"Do you honestly think theyll care what you have to say? Who do you think theyll believe y/n? You a nobody cadet who's been fighting titans for 3 seconds? Or me, a selfless hero whos saved countless of scouts lives? All I have to tell them is that you came into my room and tried to seduce me. When I tried to restrain you, you screamed. Who do you think theyll listen too? Why else would you be here so late at night?"

"Y-You're..you're insane, you're not a hero, y-you're a coward who-" he grasped your jaw harshly causing you to wince.

"I'd watch that mouth of yours y/n" he squeezed harder. I am your superior after all, and we wouldnt want any nasty rumors going around that would have you suspended from the survey corps now would we?" He bent down and to your horror pressed his lips against yours.

Fuck fuck what do I do?!? Hes blackmailing me now. I cant fight him, hes too strong, think think think.

But your mind was blank when his cold lips pressed against your lips again. "Open your mouth" he ordered in a voice laced with animilistac lust.

You abruptly turned your head away desperate to get away.

"Heh, always such a tease" he traced a finger up and down your cheek, flipping over your lips. "I'll enjoy this-"

"CAPTAIN ORO, COMMANDER ERWIN REQUESTS YOUR PRESENCE IN HIS OFFICE IMMEDIATELY" a voice shouts from the other side of the locked door.

With an annoyed sigh, Oro pulls away slightly, "Did he say why?" He lazily looks over in the direction of the door.

"NO SIR!"

"guess it can't be helped... Alright tell him I'll be there shortly" he yelled out.

"Hai" the footsteps recended and you stood deathly still.

He pulled away from you and you immediately pulled your wrists to you, they were an angry red, and it scared you how much strength he had so effortlessly displayed.

"Sorry doll, it looks like we'll have to continue this another night" he stepped away and began dressing normally as if he hadn't just been assaulting you 5 second ago. You quickly make for the door but his voice falters your step, "Oh and y/n?"

You dont look at him, but fear held you in place until he finished, "If you mention our little moment to anyone, you know what will happen" you nodded quickly, anything to appease him and get out.

When the door shut behind you, you felt the flood of tears break through.

D-did, d-did that really happen?!?

You held a hand to quiet your sobs and quickly dashed through the hallways.

You're heart thumped and you felt the need to vomit. You hadn't felt this way since the first time youd encounted a titan. All you wanted to do was get to the safety of your room, just through the hall.

It felt like a bucket of cold water had been thrown on you when a cold voice shouted out and halted your movements. Please not now, oh god any time but now.

"Oi cadet y/n are you deaf as well as dumb? I asked you a question.

"Why are you out past curfew?" he sounded definitely annoyed and you gathered all your strength to hold the sobs out of your voice.

Without turning around you answered, "I-I had to deliver some r-reports..I'll head to my room now.." you stepped forward hoping he would let you go but you were not so lucky.

"Oi brat, did you hit your head? I didn't dismiss you yet. Not to mention you haven't even addressed me properly, maybe some time cleaning up horse shit will remind you how to respect your superiors" fuck he was definitely angry now.

Still you didn't turn around, you couldn't..."S-sorry Captain Levi, I'll do better in the future.." you barely could even focus on the words coming out of your mouth, your heart was beating a mile a minute. Please just leave me alone!

"Hahh" Levi uttered in disbelief and severe annoyance, even the most novice of cadets turn around when being spoken to by a superior. "Are you trying to piss me off brat?!?"

"No sir..." still you didnt turn around, but gulped in fear when you heard sharp footsteps near you.

"Cadet y/n, you have three seconds to turn around and salute me properly before I throw you into the cells for insubordination" he ordered in his dangerously calm voice, that you never thought would be directed at you.

Having no other choice you slowly turn around, hoping to god the darkness of the room would be enough to hide your current state.

You kept your head down, letting your hair fall over your face, but gave a proper salute. Hiding the Wince that came when the tender flesh of your wrist had to bend.

Your eyes were trained on the floor. And you tried to remember how to breathe normally again.

"At least you remember how to-" abruptly his harsh scolding stopped.

Why did he stop?! Fuck did he notice something. No no calm down, he probably just is coming up with another punishment...right?

Wrong...

Levi was far from being done with dicisplining you but he caught sight of your bruised wrist and furrowed his brows immediately. He knew for a fact the last time you spoke in the hall those had not been there. He was quick to take in the rest of your demeanor and knew immediately that the reason you were acting disrespectful was because something was wrong.

"Cadet y/n.." he said suspiciously slow and not full of anger anymore.

"Y-yes?" Please dont ask me, please dont ask me, please dont-

"Look at me"

*******************************

Part 2 here

Okay so that's part 1! Please comment and lemme know what you think🥰also I'm super sensitive so please no hateful comments. Thanks for reading!

[vidavalor]

I can't help but notice that back in the first episode, Walker referred to Sam and Bucky as "Cap's wingmen" to Sam, implying that he doesn't really view the relationship between them as anything but this. He sees the Captain as the show and his backup as sidekicks. As much as Walker did genuinely care for Lemar, he also treated him like this in the group settings the whole show. He does all the talking, doesn't introduce Lemar to Sam and Bucky, who have to ask him who he is. Lemar could temper Walker a bit but Walker still sees himself as the show and Lemar a tool to help with his success more than anything else. Why does this matter in the context of Sam and Bucky?

Because John uses the word 'partner' to Bucky twice in reference to Sam and this implies that he can tell that Sam and Bucky roll differently than he does and treat one another differently. But Walker thinks this is dumb because Sam doesn't have the serum and Bucky is stronger physically. He doesn't get why Bucky doesn't act like Walker himself does-- in the leadership role, with Sam following as his wingman.

Bucky replies that Sam has dealt with worse than Karli (and clearly, ironically, means The Winter Soldier in part here, plus Thanos, etc.) He is making it clear that he doesn't see Sam as lesser than him because he's not a supersoldier-- that it isn't all about brute force. In saying this, he's saying that Sam has strengths to bring to the table that are not super physical strength and Bucky respects them. (By contrast, try to imagine Walker recognizing that Lemar had similar strengths. Imagine him saying it aloud, in front of other soldiers, including ones who were objectively physically stronger than him. Impossible, right?) Just by saying this, Bucky is showing another kind of strength that he possesses that John does not-- he's man enough to be a good, respectful partner. Which brings us to that word...

Bucky adds that Sam isn't his partner. This can be read a lot of different ways and has several overlapping meanings that are all probably a bit correct. On one level, he is saying they aren't working together as partners. (Even if the show has proved they are.) They still haven't really defined what it is they're doing together to one another and like hell is Bucky going to let John Walker be the one to label it, right? On another level, saying Sam isn't his partner is saying he doesn't view it that way because he is actually there to back up Sam. He's following Sam. Sam might see Bucky as a partner (even if they haven't discussed this) but Bucky might see it more as his role to back Sam up, similar to how he backed up Steve during the war. Sam, likely, wants to be more partners and has been allowing Bucky that space-- it is what they have evolved into-- but it isn't as clearly defined between them yet. But there's also the other use of it...

Walker, the physical embodiment of toxic masculinity, is attempting to bully Bucky a little, using words because he can't possibly best him physically at this point. The use of 'partner' from Walker comes off as aggressively sexual so here is a case of Walker being that asshole on the football team that we all know he was, trying to look bigger and tougher and more macho through thinly-veiled harassment of guys around him who dared to be comfortable with backing each other up and showing any caring openly. It is worth noting here that we have seen Sam and Bucky's whole evolution in the works here but Walker was just shown two guys he had no idea were arguing with one another because they put up a completely unified front in front of him. To Walker, this all is a little much for him and he tries to slander it by implying that it is gay, which he sees as not masculine.

Bucky denies being Sam's partner here for the already mentioned reasons regarding how they work together and that kind of partnership but make no mistake, he knew exactly what Walker was saying. So, another way of interpreting it is that Bucky was answering not in terms of the field work (where they do act as partners, really, even if Bucky might still be viewing it as something a little different... and, if he is, I hope Sam sets him straight on this being equal footing)... but I think Bucky was answering it regarding the sexual/romantic partners that Walker was trying to call them. But he did so in a way that is protective of Sam and makes him, ironically, a good partner.

Bucky is the character, remember, whose experience in the modern world included testing out and not minding casually outing himself as interested in men in the first episode, to a woman he was on a date with, no less. This isn't to say he's torn off the closet door from the era he grew up in in which he would have had to have been into men in secret. One thing he does get though is this kind of asshole like Walker that has sadly not evolved since the 30s. He responds in a way that he means to be protective of Sam, which is to say with his tone essentially "no, John, actually we are just like this because we aren't assholes like you and even if we were, we would still be better than you." But even if you think Bucky and Sam are already a thing by this episode or are aware of each other's potential feelings, Bucky isn't denying it to Walker as if it's something that makes then vulnerable or lesser as men. He doesn't have the same definition of it as Walker does.

Bucky is responding in a way where his tone says he gets what Walker was implying, thinks Walker is shit for not having a clue when it comes to what being a man is, and then casually answers the question as if Walker had meant field partners because, of course, that's what he meant, right? He makes Walker look stupid (which he is) by answering with word choice that says he didn't get the insinuation, even if his tone says he totally did. So, why not just be like "and so what if we were fucking, Walker! We still could kick your dumb ass anyday!"? Because Sam.

Because Bucky, who knows what it is like to be a soldier forced to sometimes be around guys like Walker, likely does not yet know how Sam approaches it. He likely doesn't know if Sam is out. The canon plays it as if literally everyone just assumes Bucky is bi or gay or basically anything that isn't straight but Sam is a different story. Bucky is not about to out Sam in front of everybody. He likely doesn't know yet how out Sam even is with others or how he feels about it. Out of respect for Sam, he's not about to let Walker's attempt at deriding them get anywhere. They literally could have been sleeping together for awhile now and Bucky is still not going to do anything about others knowing, least of all John Walker, unless or until that is what Sam wants and based on the canon, I would doubt very much if that had been a conversation they've already had by Ep 4.

But Walker, the terrifying awful dumb fuck, tries it again later-- this time, not in front of Sam. He saw what Bucky was doing, understood it, was embarrassed by Bucky making him look like a fool so what does he do? He bullies again. He goes at the core of Bucky in the way only the worst bullies can. He does it when Sam had to be in there alone, with a supersoldier, and Bucky is confident in Sam and giving him the space to do his thing, and then Walker lashes out at this less macho and violent plan to Bucky, calling Sam Bucky's partner again, trying to twist a knife by saying how could Bucky leave Sam in there and does he want his blood on his hands?

It's unspeakably cruel. But you might me mistaken if you think Bucky gave in here, even if it was a worry he had as he always worries for Sam because he cares and he has lost so many people and hurt so many that thinking about it happening again hurts him deeply. Bucky didn't verbally respond to Walker's taunts-- he did something much stronger than words could convey.

He didn't deny any definition of partner for Sam to Walker and he let Walker see how cruel he was by tearing up a bit, the pain in his eyes. Walker had no idea what to do with this. He had been trying to make Bucky angry. Instead, Bucky is silently strong enough to show how he feels *without* masking it all behind a macho, angry cover like Walker. Bucky's face says it all: yeah, you asshole, I love him. Yeah, I'm worried I could hurt him and have his blood on my hands. But also yeah, I survived being the Winter Soldier-- in general and just recently-- and I go to therapy now and I'm making amends and I'm free. Freer than you will ever be because which one of us will tear up and be a little afraid for another man and show him open care in this episode and which one will respond to pain with violence that begets nothing but more trauma and pain? Which one of us, Walker, is a brainwashed soldier and which one of us is a strong, decent man trying to be a good friend and partner? Which one of us, by the end of the episode, will make his partner feel like he'd take the serum in a heartbeat and which one of us will respond to his partner's fear at being vulnerable with "I'm going with you"?

He didn't speak a word in that scene but man. Whew. When it comes to toxic bullies?

Bucky Barnes can do this all day.

[marisandini-chu-blog]

How Shadow and Bones Differentiate Villain and Anti-Hero

Alright, first I need to claim the fact that I love dark, edgy, but misunderstood bad boy in stories with the potential of epic redemption. Loki from Marvel. Jason Todd from DC. Captain Hook from Once Upon a Time. Zuko from AtLA. You name them, I simp them.

So when I watched this new show on Netflix and shown a tall, handsome man in dark clothing, both respected and feared for his power. I feel... nothing. 

WHICH IS WEIRD! Like... he’s obviously my type. Complete with the sad backstory and vicious streak. So I kept wondering why I wasn’t enamored by the Darkling, Alexander Kirigan. I wasn’t surprised he was the main villain, I even expected it. But I usually at least have a bit of sympathy for them. This OOC behavior of mine made me introspect myself and the show, trying to find out which part gave me the red flags before Mother Darkling decides to pop the chosen one out halfway in the season. 

That’s when it hit me; there were red flags! The show had been subtly trying to tell us Kirigan is a manipulative boyfriend not just by great acting and good directing, but by comparing him with the actual anti-hero of the story who I actually love; Kaz Brekker. 

Here’s the list of signs you might not notice of why Kirigan is meant to be a Villain instead of an Anti-Hero. 

1. The Eyes

"The eyes are the window to the soul" is a common saying and and the key to good acting for any good show. Eyes tell us a lot about what a person’s character is like and SaB showed us the difference of a sincere man and a man with a hidden agenda.

Look at him! Look at that little smirk. Look at the gaze. That's the look you find when someone's evil little plan is finally coming together. Not one awed by the power or by Alina. A blatant sus move is what I'm saying. Congrat, first flag planted.

Sure he could still fall in love with Alina, but that doesn't stop his agenda either. All it does is potentially create conflict for him to pick either his plan for revenge or life with Alina.

In comparison, look at Kaz when he said this to Inej; "She isn't like you, no one is." Straightforward eyes. Serious grim. No nonsense tone. Inej is one of the most talented and terrifying rogue-assassin and Kaz just blatantly said that he kept her from 'slavery' because of who she is, not what she's capable of. Like... the man has no shame being known to love her while still trying to be professional (or as professional a thief can be). I can respect that.

This is the eye of a man who would abandon everything to make sure she comes out alright in the end. Do not argue with me on this!

2. Leverage and Status

The moment Alina steps into the Little Palace she was treated like a princess. A palace, by the way, that’s managed by the Darkling. She gets favorable treatment; from the food, Zoya displaced when she fought Alina, a horseback ride just the two of them, asking her to call by his name to make them familiar, a black uniform that might as well be claiming???

Dude is desperate is what I’m saying. 

Sure, this could all be romantic gestures. There’s the problem that Kirigan is superior in status and name, powerful Grisha, and has a vested interest in her power. Pursuing romance while Kirigan has the ability to make her life heaven or hell with a snap of his finger made every single decision be seen with wariness. 

"Beware of powerful men," Genya couldn't put it any better.

Had they pursued romance after they destroy the fold, cementing Alina’s position as a saint more. Then I might have let go of that wariness. 

I’m only proven correct when the moment Alina turned away from him, Kirigan made another leverage by (spoiler!) putting an antler to her collarbone... eeeewwww much?! 

That’s how desperate the Darkling is to be in control of a person and a situation. 

And when no letter came for Alina? That a big red flag because who else in this castle can control the coming of going of letter with the Savior. HMMMMMMMMMMM.....

Then there’s Kaz. My man. There’s no competition. This guy held no leverage on my dear Inej. When she almost decided to leave, Kaz didn't force or convince her to stay but he ask her. Doesn't remind her of her debt whether monetary or life debt to him. In fact, this guy needs money for revenge but instead mortgage his main source of income for her freedom.

HE POSTPONED HIS LIFE GOAL TO FREE HER FROM DEBT ASJHAKFSDJGLDFJ!!!  

What more do I need to say? 

3. Sympathy Card

This is the type of point you want to watch out from your partners, ladies, gents, and others. The sympathy card is the way to go when anyone wants to reach out to you so you can take care of them before they abuse or gaslight you. 

While it’s good to share trauma and eased the burden, sometimes it's healthy to ask yourself whether the person can take advantage of you and to verify whether they lie to you or not.

When Kirigan shared about his past as a sympathetic boy with his secluded fountain and coin. Everything about that scene rang warning bells for me... the part he had requested her to use his color... requesting to horse ride with just them two... sharing sob story that may encourage Alina to help him...

Kudos to Alina to see through the fact she's seen as a means to an end.

It was only when Kirigan showed righteous anger and frustration of a war that's killing his people did Alina finally opened her heart to him.

Kaz however doesn't use the sympathy card. Heck, the man likes to believe he shed away any weakness and threw it in the harbor where it belongs. Kaz hates weaknesses. And garnering sympathy is an admission of weakness for him.

We still know there's a tragic backstory as any decent anti-hero would have... but by not sharing that, this implies that Inej and Jesper stayed because of who he is, and not because of who he was or how he came to be. They don't need a sob story to stay together and that showed a stronger bond between them.

4. Friends

To be frank, I find this the most hilarious because this point is the one that convinced me that Kirigan was secretly an evil bastard.

He doesn’t have any friends!!!

Like... dude had a literal witch army, a wife once, a fuck buddy, and a girlfriend but there wasn’t a single moment in the show where someone, outside of Alina and superior, to speak casually to him. 

You’re telling me this person... the most powerful and influential Grisha in the East Ravka, charming as hell, handsome as fuck, and yet he doesn’t have friends?! 

“I’ve buried good soldiers... friends...” Get the fuck out of here! WHAT FRIENDS?!?! Maybe if you get off your little power trip from your self-made pedestal, you can actually be less of an asshole and make one. 

Sure he excused himself by blaming his ‘ancestor’ for being a shadow summoner. I can see how the fear makes it hard for him to get close to anybody. But all the other characters who are part of his army only ever shown to speak with him respectfully, and the royalty even commend him. No one disrespected him even openly and you’re telling me he doesn’t have one friend amidst all these people?!

In comparison, look at Kaz. He’s brash, crude, and unapologetic. He held true to his moniker ‘Bastard of the Barrel’ and yet this ass has friends. They show Jesper joking with Kaz, and Kaz has shown to banter with him back as well as tolerating his gambling addiction when it could have jeopardized the Job. Inej was shown to actually argue and have disagreement with Kaz when he’s technically her boss. Can you imagine the Darkling doing that? CAN YOU?!

No. Because he's a pretentious ass. That's why.

This is a great example of the use “show not tell” of how Kaz despite his obvious edges has a soft spot shown through his relationship with Inej and Jesper, who have a friendly dynamic. I can attest that while Kaz didn’t create a good first impression, I love Jesper and Inej (they are precious!) so much that I project it to Kaz in extension.

On the other hand, Kirigan’s goodwill had only ever been told by outsiders or himself. None from his inner circle (which he doesn’t have!) other than his mother, who ended up outing him instead. 

So I applaud the writers and showrunners of SaB to actually have subtext signs of a manipulative bastard. The Duckling is a good villain character that's complex but unredeemable. Sometimes, you just have a good ol' charming villain you can't redeem and that's okay.

[b0rista]

— 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑.

WARNINGS: light angst & swearing.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: he's one of my ultimate favorite snk characters, and i needed to cleanse my page of the heavy ass warrior content djjfjf.

"you're either a blessing, or you're a lesson. either or, you and i met for a reason."

with all of the gore and the misfortune that comes with your livelihood, it's connie that gets you through it.

as expected, you first fell in love with him for his humor. not for the humor itself, but for how it shed the smallest flicker of joy upon a heaping tower of despair— as soldiers, you needed that. fortunately, he was the one that brought it to the table. even during your days as cadets, connie lived to make you laugh. hearing a chuckle flutter from your core served as a form of therapy for him, and with time, he grew addicted.

with that being said, he does the stupidest shit in order to get your attention. even when you're together, he'll do what needs to be done. for example, one time, he tried to impress you by doing a trick while saddled up on his horse. in an attempt to twirl like a jackass ballerina, the horse decided that it deserved better, and kicked him clean off its back. at the sight of his 5'2 ass being hoisted eight feet into the air, you nearly choked.

prepare yourself, he's a cuddler. after a particularly hard day's worth of work, connie finds solace in bedding up with you, knowing that you're safe, and with him. he asks that you don't tell anybody, but he actually really enjoys cuddling as the little spoon. to have his head pressed against your chest, his ear to your heartbeat, brings him comfort. of course, he'll never detest to being your big spoon, either. he absolutely loves the feeling of you buried within his touch.

^ if you ever want to go an evening without cuddling, he'll be immediately offended. never, ever, ever will the two of you fall asleep back to back. he simply won't have it, it makes him feel as if something's wrong. and if that is the case, nobody's falling asleep until you've talked about it and successfully sorted it out.

at the beginning of your guys' relationship, everyone worried for you. did he coerce you, y/n? are you being forced? has he threatened you, has he threatened your family? nobody could grasp the fact that connie motherfuckin' springer had managed to pull you.

if there's any sort of sour talk regarding you, no matter how little it is, this man will leap to your defense. one time, jean called your bedhead ugly, and connie propelled a moldy roll of bread into his forehead. in the end, a massive food fight erupted, and you were just standing there with your bedhead like 🧍‍♀️

HOWEVER, there was an instance that actually led to a genuine, real fight between you two as a couple. you'd managed to scuff up your leg during the battle with kenny the ripper and his associates, and when it came down to who was and who wasn't going to tag along for the eren & historia rescue mission, connie belittled you to the team behind your back. not because he actually felt that way, but because he'd do anything to maintain your safety— even if it meant hurting your feelings. telling captain levi that your abilities were inadequate for that particular mission hurt him, but he did what he felt was necessary.

in the end, though, levi saw through the charade. to connie's dismay, you came with to save eren and historia. and during the entire journey, you didn't even utter a word to him. of course, though, during the battle, you put your frustrations aside. once you saw your lover's head nearly get kicked in during combat, you understood his intentions, and you forgave him. as expected, he replied to your forgiveness with humor,, his go-to coping mechanism.

"considering how sexy i looked on the battlefield, i knew you wouldn't be able to resist."

whenever his hair starts to grow out, you're the one that gets to cut it back down! he's able to do it himself, but he really likes it when you do it. you're typically propped up in his lap, sitting face to face as you file down his edges. he always loops his arms around your waist, intently staring you in the face— seeing you so concentrated on his hair, he can't help it.

you wouldn't expect this from connie whatsoever, but he likes it when you read to him. pick a literature of your choice and let him kick back and rest his head onto your lap, pleasE. he'll close his eyes, and for the first time in forever, stay still. the only time he and books ever coexist is when you're reading one to him. he'll also make fun of you whenever you stumble over a sentence,, so get ready.

the day you realize that this motherfucker is nearing six feet tall, you're ready for the holy spirit to whisk you away. literally, you measure his height on the weekly once you realize he just keeps gaining inches. that, and when he starts growing more into his face? lawd, take you now.

"connie, you're getting seXY-"

"what the hell does thaT mE A N-"

many, many proposals. none are meant to be taken seriously, which the both of you know. still, there are far too many proposals between the two of you. one time, you killed a fly midair, and he thought you were the baddest bitch on the block.

"marry me."

another time, he swooped you into the air with his maneuvering gear, and as you held onto him for dear life, you looked him dead in the face: "marry me, you baldheaded bastard."

it can be a reel, how many times the two of you say that bullshit. somehow, it's cute.

he doesn't really take basic boundaries into consideration. like, one time, you caught him using your toothbrush because he couldn't find his. it wasn't fun, you had to give him a serious talking to.

he is, without a doubt, constantly prepared to lay down his life for you on the battlefield. during his time as a soldier, he's grown significantly strong— and once he fell in love with you, he's felt even stronger. not only do you give him drive, but you lend him strength. with that being said, you're somebody he'd die for without even an ounce of hesitation. and knowing him, he's probably made that more than obvious.

when connie's village was destroyed and it was discovered that his entire family was turned into titans, you were one of the only ones to actually comfort him. you were absolutely enraged at how nonchalantly your lover's loss was set aside, and although he'd tried his hardest to conquer the grief alone, it was you who sat at his bedside at night, cradling him in your arms as he wept. never in your life had you seen him so distraught. after that period of time, your relationship with him only deepened in its seriousness. 

as expected, you and sasha spend quite a bit of time together! after all, that's your boyfriend's best friend. given her easygoing nature, it didn't take long for sasha to absolutely adore you. naturally, she wonders how the hell you manage to operate with a boyfriend like that, but she tries not to ask questions.

speaking of the wonder twins, they love getting you in trouble. whenever the two of them think up an astonishingly moronic shenanigan, there's a solid 50/50 chance that you'll be looped into it, too. one time, they purposefully dulled jean's razor, and when he went to shave, it only ended in him splitting his face open due to placing too much pressure. as a joke, those two jackasses carved your initials into the handle. when jean decided that he'd murder you, connie tried playing the hero, lEapiNg to your defense. it was stupid, and it didn't work. you still laugh about it, though.

there have been several jokes regarding starting a family and growing old together— secretly, though, connie doesn't want them to just be jokes.

he stole a stray cat for you. yup, yes he did. the two of you were walking about the city, and you saw a gray-haired sleeping beside a trash bin behind a local vendor. you compared its fur to the color of his hair, calling it cute. out of impulse, connie went back to that exact same vendor later on that day, trapped the cat in a box, and brought it to your doorstep.

his forearms and fingertips were covered in claw marks, but to see your face light up the way that it did, any amount of pain was immediately worth it.

after the nickname that shadis had given connie on the first day of cadet training, you named the kitty q-ball. 🥺

during the season four era, the two of you share a house. at first, captain levi argued against it— "put a pair of horny teenagers in a home together, what do you think is gonna happen?"

y'all said fuck it, and lived together anyways. it's you, him, and your lovely child, q-ball. occasionally jean, too. some nights, he doesn't want to be alone.

eskimo kisses. during the prepping of every single mission, you'll get eskimo kisses. it's a small, loving gesture the two of you do before heading into the battlefield. as a sign of your love, you'll press your foreheads together and rub noses, weapons holstered and ready for combat. it's a serious tradition, and it'll never be ignored.

and after a mission, connie has this habit of pinching your cheeks immediately after rushing towards you. it isn't to be cute, either. it's so that he can scan you, and check you for any harm. basically, it's him squeezing the life out of your face while bombarding you with questions.

expect supremely cheesy pet names! bae, biscuit, buttercup, baby thing, sexy bitch, and so on. if it were anyone else, he would 100% make fun of them. but it's him, therefore adorable.

[commanderserwin]

here, now.

✧ characters. levi ackerman x reader

✧ notes. a soulmate au that is super self-indulgent i love soulmate aus i love soulmate aus i love soulmate aus— and i hope you will enjoy too!

✧ summary. “you are my responsibility! for fuck’s sake, you are on my skin! i can feel you! we’re bound, literally.”

a. you can feel a tug from wherever your soulmate is. these may either be automatic, or have stronger tugs whenever your soulmate is in distress. 

b. initials on their skin.

It wasn’t unusual anymore when it has kept you on the bed, staring ahead, breathing hard to calm yourself down. It wasn’t new anymore. It has been happening for years and you’ve had enough practice to get use to it. But no matter how steady your breaths have become, their tugs didn’t become any gentler. It felt like a sting— on your hands, arms, feet, even at your fingers, it climbed like an ant on your skin, biting as it goes. But the bites weren’t there.

Their tugs would stop. It would usually stop in the mornings, but it would never get easier during the afternoons and evenings. It was when the tugs were a little heavy and intimidating because it signaled on your end that something was bothering them. You can’t communicate through the tugs. It was just the emotions, extreme distress, like a smoke signal.

The sheets on your hands has crumbled while you closed your eyes thinking of anything good. The smell wafting through the window as your neighbor cooked an extravagant meal, the little cheers of the children from the other house, or even how soft your pillows are as the tugs ceased.

“I’m going to find them,” you scowled through the sunny morning, almost like a mantra to be said everyday. 

You have no idea who it might be. The tugs started late as it seeped through you being that the universe has finally wrote your destiny. Although, the universe has already started on your skin long before the tugs has began.

Their initial sits just at the joint of your shoulder and the end of your collarbone, the red letter tattooed on the soft spot.

L.

There are hundreds and hundreds of possible men and women whose names starts with that letter, but you are so determined to find who’s at the end of your own tugs because theirs were just insufferable. It would go on hours and you’d be left too busy with handling it. Even wishing that it would stop— but whenever it does, it makes your toes curl because if it stops, you don’t even know if there are still there.

Their initial was there but it just sits there whereas the tugs lets you know that they are there.

So you have deduced it into someone who works in impossible tasks— hard and excruciating, so you have narrowed it down to somebody in the Military. It was a reach, but it was better than anything.

The Military Brigade feels empty. They roam the streets and they empty.

The Garrison feels closer. Although they feel nothing.

The Survey Corps feels different— like something is alive as it pulls you towards it.

“L,” you whispered to yourself as you threw the covers off of your body, paddling towards the dainty kitchen to get your day ready for searching like a detective yet again. “Oh, I am going to find you, L.”

The kettle whistled in its agreement as you perched on top of your countertop, swinging your feet— and then it tugged.

“This early?” You blew on your hot cup of tea as it warmed your throat, making squint in wonder. “What are you worried for? I just got out of bed and it’s a wonderful morning—,”

It tugged.

“Fine,” you jumped down, stomping down your feet towards the bathroom as you took your clothes off, testing the waters to begin your day. You stared at yourself in the mirror, always capturing the scowl on your mouth as it tugged. “I’m coming for you.”

Nobody told you that finding somebody in the Survey Corps was a struggle. Finding someone in a sea of somebodies was hard enough, and you only have it down to their initial to help you.

Their base feels intimidating. The number of soldiers training makes you feel small, watching them kick and punch— lurch around in their gear made you worried because you looked so out of place. The finest fabrics in the plaza you adorned on your body has turned into rags as the mud settled on the ends of your trousers as it touched the ground. Your shoes squelch underneath the soft ground, and you groaned inside, finding a concrete place to rest. You ignored their looks as you flicked the dried mud off of your trousers, cursing yourself through it.

And it tugged, so you just have to power through it.

“Are you lost?” Somebody spoke from behind you, and they bent down to meet your eyes as you were frozen in place. Their eyes met yours in curiosity and you slowly stood up straighter, clearing your throat.

“I’m looking for somebody.”

“I can help you with that,” the young soldier nodded, smiling as he tilted his head. “What’s their name?”

What is their name?

What is their name?

“Uhm,” you gulped, clasping your hands behind you while you looked beyond him. There was a crowd of young soldiers fighting, a couple of older ones talking within themselves— so what is their name. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“Yes,” you nodded, shrugging your shoulders, “I do have their initial—,”

“Soulmates?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed a little loud as the audience behind turned their heads toward you. The soldier shook his head, a shy smile on his lips as he saw how flustered you are. “It starts with L.”

The young soldier pondered, nibbling his lips as he cocked his head towards a small building. He looked back and forth, contemplating if he should say anything. In the end, he couldn’t miss the way your lips quivered in perfect play, and he finally surrendered.

“I could think of people but you may want to start with our captain,” the soldier explained as he stood a little straight. “On that building, the hallway to your left, and the door on your second.”

The information hit too close to home, and it felt immediately closer and heavier because they could be right at that building, the hallway to your left, and the door on your second as you repeated the words over and over until the soft patters of your feet hit the floorboards. It wasn’t just the words that echoed in your ears, it was the faintest of the tugs at your fingers— tingling as it got closer and closer until the door before you felt too natural.

Levi could hear the footsteps. His hands froze as he piled the papers off of the table. He felt the familiar tug on his fingers as he listened closely outside his door.

He wasn’t new to this.

The tug meant that someone particular has found him. His breathing deepened as the floorboards creaked, and he thought of the time those particular tugs greeted him almost everyday— spanning seconds and minutes as he walked around the base. Sometimes, he could carry those tugs with him outside the wall— and he would do this best to not let it affect him.

But this time feels different.

He knows that someone on the other end is hesitating to knock on his door, and he couldn’t help but wish to make them walk away, erase the familiarity because he wasn’t ready. He’s heard stories of people meeting their soulmates and it all ended in tears and laughter but he knows his meeting will go on the opposite way— but it just tugged.

He closed his eyes for a few seconds, feeling the tingling on his body as the person felt worried to open the door.

“Just open it,” Levi found himself muttering.

He focused on the paper before him, hearing the creak of the footstep as someone knocked on his door. It was quiet, eerie, and Levi found himself touching that patch behind his ear. He perfectly knows what letter it was, where it starts and ends, the red ink etched on his skin as he touched the letter.

And it tugged— harder, that it made Levi curl his fingers on his table, finally hearing the turn of the knob like a bullet through the air as he lifted his head off of the table from his fake work. His breathing stopped when he first locked eyes. The tug disappeared as he looked straight, feeling his throat dry— his brows furrowing as the person came marching in.

You came marching in.

His grey eyes surveyed yours as you marched right in, embarrassingly stopping in the middle of his office. His hands stayed glued to his table filled with paperworks as he looked at you.

“Hello,” your voice wavered as you stood up straighter in his office. The door closed by itself and the small distance instantly felt too much.

The man before you lifted his head by an inch— and that was all he did. The silence was loud and deafening and it made your blood boil, because you understood why he is always tugging at your end based on his work. What you didn’t understand is why he is just sitting there. Aren’t all supposed to be happy about meeting their soulmates? The magnetic feel at the end of their tingling fingers?

He didn’t respond.

“Okay,” you started, crossing your arms before him. There was nothing else to comment on aside that he is staring, so you really powered through it. “We’re soulmates. And we have these tugs, I’m sure you know it. I understand your line of work—,”

“Then this shouldn’t be a problem,” Levi interrupted as he leaned on his chair. He didn’t miss the way you gasp lightly after his words. “It’s natural.”

“I know that it’s natural. I’m asking for a little consideration,” you walked nearer to his desk, your feet tumbling at the distance. His grey eyes looked up as you stood before his table. “The tugs— your tugs, it’s keeping me awake. I couldn’t— do anything, you keep me awake. And in the afternoons? I’m barely moving because all I could do is process your distress-,”

“You are free to ignore it.” Levi said, clenching his hands tight because he could feel you on his fingers— your tugs. He took a deep breathe, realizing that this is making you worry, this whole conversation is making you pull on your own ends, and he couldn’t do anything about it because he knows he’s also doing it to you.

“I can’t ignore it.” You clenched your teeth, looking at his smug face. His red initial on your shoulder burns, and you roughly pulled on your sleeve to show it to him. “How can I ignore it—,”

“Don’t-,” Levi started again, feeling your initial itch.

“Don’t interrupt me,” you frowned, pointing at his initial on your skin. “Tell me how I can ignore it when you are on my skin and I could feel you!”

Levi blinked a couple of times, calming himself because one look at your skin, and he could already confirm. It’s what they say, if your soulmate shows you your initial, it automatically riles you in. His initial sits on your skin in red ink, just like yours did behind his ear.

He could feel anger within you and he could only arch his brow as to why that is. If he’s being honest, he has no time for this even if he was ecstatic to meet his soulmate— he still doesn’t have time for this because he is unsure of his future. He doesn’t know that maybe on the next day their expedition comes, he could be gone. He could be in pain, and he knows what pain does to the line. It is excruciating— and he has felt it before through you. He didn’t want to leave that somebody alone but it was bound to happen that’s why he was hesitant to be found.

Even when you found him, he wants to take it all back.

“Why are you even here?” Levi finally asked, knowing already your answer. He has got it all under control even when he could feel your consistent tugs at his ends.

“All I am asking is for you to be careful.”

You sighed, closing your eyes as you tried to calm down. You fiddled with the ends of your shirt as you took a few deep breaths. Your soulmate is and isn’t who you imagined to be. His days are far more busy than yours, less extravagant as to what you were used to but he was the one for you. An acquaintance, a friend— someone who the universe set for you.

“Don’t act like I am your responsibility,” Levi scowled, because he didn’t mean for things to escalate. The tugs on your ends has settled, and he let out a huge sigh that he didn’t know that he was holding.

Then, it tugged. Just as your angry eyes opened.

“But you are!” You exasperatedly said, pointing at him while you tugged your sleeve to cover up. “You are my responsibility! For fuck’s sake, you are on my skin! I can feel you! We’re bound, literally.”

Levi stood up from his chair, your initial itching. His mind’s running because he doesn’t want to be bound— literally. He doesn’t want to have an added responsibility, another person— he doesn’t want to gain and lose it at the end.

“However it is we are together, that is besides the point. You found me! That’s great news,” Levi seethed through his teeth, leveling his eyes at yours, “Now you can leave.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Should I complain also?” Levi asked calmly, touching your initial. He moved his eyes away when you saw his little action, and he inhaled deeply in response. “Every second and minute, I could feel your tugs. But do you hear me complaining? Did I have to look for you to lecture me about soulmates?”

“Complain all you want but know that it’s because of you!” You gritted your teeth, nose flaring as Levi sat back down. “You could feel me distressed, because you are distressed! So, tell me how I could avoid that? You go out— outside the Walls, do your job, tug on my end, and you expect me to live my day out normally? I understand the difficulty of your work and I applaud you for everything you are doing. All I am asking is for you to be careful.”

“Can we talk about-,”

“Captain L-!”

A young scout opened the door to his office, and you stood there shocked at the interruption. The young soldier’s eyes flicked back and forth at his eyes and yours— frozen as to what to do. Levi called upon the soldier, their hurried footsteps echoing in the quiet office.

You whipped your head towards the men with one final look and you quietly exited your way. His eyes went up to yours for a split second as you stepped outside— hearing his chair scrape against the floor but it ended there.

It ended there.

Gone was the intimidating base, and you were back on the small ferry to make your way further into the safety of Wall Sina.

Levi couldn’t sleep at all during the night and he wondered if it also kept you awake. He tossed and turned in his bed, creaking in the dark night as he tried to find the best position to shut his eyes for at least a minute. But it was no use— he knows that he wouldn’t be able to sleep and he wants to roll his eyes for even thinking of you. He wanted to sleep because you complained about it— and so he forces him to. But he couldn’t.

He isn’t stupid and he knows that sleep is very important, but it just doesn’t come to him.

It was also quiet at your own end.

It has been a few days before you came to him. He could still remember how heavy and hushed at the same time your footsteps were. He could still remember how you breathed deeply and hard in between your sentences as he listened. He remembered how you looked that day you took your exit. It was as if you were supposed to say something more but your feet has already carried you away.

Levi tried— and successfully pushed the thoughts aside for the time being but he couldn’t stop it from coming back.

The expedition outside is bound for a few hours away and he shouldn’t be thinking of damned soulmates. He’s caught in the middle of celebrating or sulking that he’s found his own. It’s both suffocating and freeing that he now knows he has one— and it wasn’t all hearsay. It does happens, and it just so happened his meeting didn’t go very well and happily.

But Levi is slightly, minutely, thankful for it.

And so when he stood in the battlefield against the titans, all he could hear are your words.

His soulmate’s words and it made him scowl when he didn’t even know your name.

‘Be careful.’

‘On my skin.’

‘My responsibility.’

Levi wonders if he was tugging on your end as he slashed a titan’s nape. The wind blew on his face as he hurriedly check his gas. Everything was working out— and he wasn’t in distress.

“I am careful,” Levi whispered to himself as he killed the last titan. His eyes moved towards his squad and nobody was badly hurt.

Levi walked and placed his blades back. His hand brushed his face and on instinct, went over your initial. “You are on my skin.”

He scanned his comrades, his voice thundering as he ordered them to retreat. Levi looked back at the field for a few seconds, noting that the blood spilled wasn’t his or anybody’s. “You are my responsibility.”

On the way back inside the Wall, Levi wondered if you could still feel him. He tried his hardest to not let you feel him, but he wanted to at least give it try. Soulmates are made for a reason, be it for mainly for company or to grow love— a binding made by the aboves and it is up to the people to go find it or not.

For the longest time, he didn’t want to be involved in it, but what fight does he have when your ink has been on his body ever since? What fight does he have when he felt your tugs over and over again, and it made him realized that he is involved.

Levi thought real hard about it at night, his mind going over his plan, and always in the verge of doing it or not. In the end, he slept as best as he could, tossing and turning, until he set his heart on his decision, hoping that he won’t regret it.

The book that you have been holding— the one that you have been trying so hard to read was all but a jumble of words that makes no sense as you started from the very beginning of the page.

“He ran towards her,” you read aloud to help with the tingles from your finger, as you inhaled sharply when you felt it again. “He ran towards her-,”

“Can you stop,” you begged quietly, whispering to yourself as you closed the book. You placed your head in your hands, breathing slowly to even out the other line, “I am trying to read.”

But it didn’t work— no matter how hard you tried to breathe, inhale and exhale, while you clenched your eyes shut.

“One deep exhale,”

“Two,”

“Three.”

Over, and over again.

Then it stopped.

With a sigh, you picked up your book again, opening to where you have left off and began to read it.

“He ran towards her,” you read aloud again, your mouth silently reading as you focused on the words and sentences and the life the book is giving.

For a few minutes, and a few flips of pages— somebody knocked on your door. One quick rap, and it was gone. You thought it was just the silly kid from next door, betting with his friends of if you would come out— after falling for it multiple times. So, you paid no attention to it.

Then another.

You uncrossed your legs from the sofa, placing the book on your lap as you turned your head to the door. When it didn’t knock again, you crept on your door slowly, turning the knob quietly as you opened the door inch by inch to be met with—.

“I thought you weren’t home.”

His eyes were glued to yours as he cleared his throat, while you stayed stuck on the ground, holding the knob like your life depended on it. He wasn’t wearing his usual uniform as he adorned his body with a more formal look, as he carried his coat, and it took you a few seconds to register it.

“I thought about what you said.”

Levi let out a sigh of relief when you opened the door wider, as you stared at him silently. He curled his hands, finally feeling you back as it tugged on it.

“How did you find me?”

Soulmates.

“I... I’m not really sure. I just knew.” Levi turned slowly, holding on to his hair as he lifted them up, pointing at your red initial just behind his ear, “I figured your name starts with—.”

“That’s right,” you breathed, gulping as you traced your initial on his skin, “That’s my initial.”

He nodded, turning around. When you didn’t speak back up, it left Levi racking his brain whatever possible there is to say. You only stood there, locking the door open with your foot as Levi stood there wondering what else could be missing.

“Levi,” he introduced himself, offering a hand as you looked at it.

When he was about to retract his hand back to save him from his own embarrassment, you quickly took his hand, pulling him gently. Levi almost smiled when you chuckled softly, pointing at the living room behind you as he gently padded inside your home.

“So, Levi,” you closed the door behind him, taking his coat from his hand to hang on the rack. His eyes followed you, his footsteps quiet as you lead the way towards the kitchen. You passed him a mug, pushing the tea tin over him, “Come to lecture me about soulmates?”

[puckyess]

Gold-digger | Dylan Holloway

In a perfect world, all of my boys win gold

Words: 4K

It was surreal how you could sense his presence. You went from anxious excitement to a feeling of warmth, all within one breath. You watched from a distance as his frame cleared the tunneled gateway. An outsider may have pegged him as an athlete, heading back to school, with the way his broad shoulders filled out that red maple leaf hoodie and thighs that looked thick even in his grey sweatpants. They would have no idea that the boy who was ducking his head was a World Junior Champion. 

His head lifts, features set into a frown as he searches the busy airport for you. When his eyes finally catch yours watching him, he breaks out into that goofy grin that you love so much. You let him make his way to you even though you want nothing more than to run to him, simply because you find it adorable that he clearly double times it to get to you. His arms engulf you and you swear he feels stronger than when he left 54 days ago. He lifts you off your feet, crushing you into his chest and yet it’s still not close enough. The act is softened when his hand comes up to cup the back of your head and he buries his face into your hair. A word hasn’t been said between the two of you but it doesn't have to because this moment says it all. 

He exhales as he sets you on your feet again, the smile still on his face though it’s softer now. “I’ve missed you”.

Your arms still wrapped around his waist you pull back just the slightest to look up and reciprocate the sentiment. “You’re not allowed to leave me again, like ever”, you inform him. 

He chuckles and his finger finds his way under your chin so that he can do what he’s been thinking about for months. “You have yourself a deal” he mumbles before smashing his lips against yours. He’s never been one for PDA, always remaining lowkey and content with keeping things private. So this takes you by surprise, it’s way more heated than he’s ever been with you in public and you’re not complaining one bit. 

It doesn’t take more than a second for you to give into his lips, letting his tongue slide into your mouth. Your arms come up to snake around his neck, pulling him down to you. He has one hand on the small of your back, supporting you both as he leans into you, the other finds its way to the back of your neck, trying to leverage you even closer to him to deepen the kiss. All of the emotion of the past two months is evident in the way you both pour yourselves into each other. 

When you just about moan into his mouth, you have to pull away. You know what you must look like when you see the way his eyes are blown. His lips are well kissed and still parted and his cheeks are the color of his sweatshirt. He looks both stunned and perfectly pleased, a smirk creeping its way onto his face. 

“Welcome home, baby”, you greet him, holding his hands as you raise up on your tiptoes to give him one last, much more innocent kiss before grabbing one of his bags. 

“Let’s go home”. Your heart flutters at his use of the word “home”. You know exactly where he’s referring to and love that your home has become his too. His dimple pops as he throws that sweet smile your way. He picks up his other bag and slings an arm around your shoulders, tucking you into his side. 

. 

As you make your way through the airport he pulls you closer and places a kiss on the top of your head. “Thank you for picking me up. I really missed you” he breathes out. 

Suddenly you stop in your tracks, almost taking yourself out as your fridge of a boyfriend keeps his arm looped around your shoulders as he continues moving forward. He turns around startled. 

In all of the excitement of having your baby back in your arms and that kiss knocking you off of your feet you had completely forgotten, but now that you remembered you could barely contain your excitement. “Don’t you have something you want to show me? Like, I don't know...maybe something shiny?” you tease. 

He suddenly looks bashful, his face turning as red as it was after he very publicly marked his territory moments ago. 

“Come on, D, let me see that gold medal of yours” you squeal. 

He pulls you and his bags off to the side so that you’re not in the way and then his hand ducks into the collar of his sweatshirt and comes back out with a beautiful gold medal. 

Awe is the only word Dylan can think of to describe you when he finally shows it to you. Your eyes are wide and your perfect lips are formed into a little “o” as you take it all in, the little skater ensignia, the perfect roundness of the medallion, the weight of what it all meant. And then you’re grinning at him with glassy eyes. 

He looks so proud watching you take in what is one of his greatest accomplishments so far. But his pride doesn’t even compare to how proud you are of him for working to get to where he is and battling adversity for that medal. You know how much it meant to him to be on the team in the first place, to represent his country, but to actually be part of bringing home the gold brought about a whole slew of emotions for you. 

He was a champion and he was yours. 

“So what do you think?” He finally asks you, sliding the ribbon around your neck. 

“I think you make me the proudest girlfriend in the whole world.”

—

Once you get to your car you throw his bags in your trunk. He walks to the passenger side and opens your door and you smile to yourself, not believing how much you missed such a mundane action. He leans in for yet another kiss before shutting your door and sliding into his side. Immediately his right hand finds yours and he brings it up to his lips to kiss, releasing your hand only to do that really hot thing that guys do when they back a car up and then his grip is in yours all over again. 

With the music playing softly in the background and your sunshine back in the car with you it’s like you’re in your own little bubble with him, the good kind this time. You know he feels the same way because he’s much more talkative than back in the airport, in fact there’s hardly a second where the car isn’t filled with his voice. It’s a sound that you’d missed more than you thought your heart would allow and you were more than grateful to have it back. His smile is contagious, as always, but today especially. With every glance your way, his grin accompanies it. He gushes about his journey to the gold medal that was now hanging around your neck. 

You make him start from the beginning, how he felt when he first boarded his flight back to his home providence. He admitted how nervous he was since at that point, he was unsure if he would make the team and he knew it was his last chance for that honor. He told you of all things he did to keep himself motivated and hopeful while he quarantined, twice, even though he knew the other guys were out there playing and earning their spots with every minute he wasn’t able to be on the ice. When he says that your daily calls and check-ins were one of those things, you give his hand a squeeze that matches the one your heart does in your chest. He tells you all about the guys, doing his best to describe their personalities and special moments that they shared while in that bubble together. 

He indulges your every question, like the best round of 20 questions you’ve ever played in your life. He shares the lows of losing his captain right off the bat to the highs of the calm feeling of the locker room right before that final game. He makes you feel like you were right there by his side. 

You don’t want this little moment to end as he pulls into the parking garage and apparently neither does he because he doesn’t make a move to get out of the car. So you continue your attack and ask him what he thought he was doing, looking that good in all of those suits.

--

When you finally get up to go to the bathroom, Dylan starts to follow you and you have to put your hand on his chest to shove him back on the couch. “I can pee by myself, D, thank you” you laugh. Since the minute you walked through the door, no, the minute you got out of the car he had not left your side. 

He looks so sad for a moment and you almost change your mind until you snap back to reality with how ridiculous that would be. “I’ll just be right across the room” you assure him, pointing to the bathroom that was literally across the living room. 

“At least leave the door open”, he grumbles.

You roll your eyes, but give him a quick kiss anyway. “You’re so weird, Dylan”, but you do as he requests anyway and he starts a full on conversation with you as you go about your business. 

You emerge from the bathroom and head for the kitchen instead of your spot in his arms. When you don’t hear him complain, you turn and look at your boyfriend in alarm, “Are you not going to ask me where I’m going?” you tease him. 

He looks guilty like he actually messed up and should’ve asked and you laugh. “You’ve been my shadow for days now, I think this is the first time you’ve actually let me out of your sight”.

The only word that could be used to describe his behavior lately is clingy. You weren’t complaining of course after not having access to your boyfriend in so long, but it was kind of comical how much attention he required. He would follow you everywhere, and demanded to be touching you constantly. Whether it was holding your hand to go get a water bottle or moving your feet onto his lap on the couch to watch a show, he had to be connected to you. If you got up for any reason he would question you, like a lost puppy until he knew what you were up to. 

He blushes at your observation, but he doesn't deny it. “That’s the longest we’ve been apart since we met, I guess I’m just readjusting”.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it” you tell him as you crawl back into your spot in his arms after retrieving your drink. “I missed you too”.

--

The next few days you get reacquainted with each other, falling back into your routines and of course pressing each other’s buttons. 

“Stop glaring at me, you asked for this. Literally, if I remember correctly” Dylan points out. 

His comment only makes you furrow your brows even more, your glare deepening as you stare at your god of a boyfriend. There he lay on the couch, sprawled out in all of his golden glory. His blonde hair was perfectly tousled, loose strands dancing across his forehead as he shook his head at you. He was wearing your favorite sweats, the ones that sat low on his hips and hugged his ass just right and to taunt you even more, he was shirtless. But that wasn’t even the best part. The ribbon around his neck, the gold medallion laying against his skin was something you couldn’t tear your eyes away from. 

You had a paper to write and his appearance was not helping you get anything done. “Well when I told you to wear it around this morning, I didn’t know you’d look like that” you grumble, still unable to look away.

His laughter bounces through the room at your apparent distaste. “You have to wear the medal, Dylan. No, don’t put a shirt on, I like you just like that.” he mimics you from this morning in a high pitched voice. You don’t know what it was about that gold medal, but it turned you on and he knew it. 

You roll your eyes, shutting your computer. You go to chirp him, but he picks that exact moment to raise his arms and stretch out, letting out a groan in the process. Your eyes go wide as you watch every muscle in his body flex, the glimmer and shine of his medal matching the one in his eyes. The smirk that spreads across his face makes you want to choke him, or maybe to be choked you’re not quite sure because your mind is a mess. 

“I can go put a shirt on, if that’s what you want” he offers, moving to get up off the couch.

The rate at which you jump up to stop him as you yell, “No!”, is almost embarrassing. 

He raises an eyebrow at you, clearly amused at how worked up you are. 

“What?” you ask him, trying to brush it off, but there was no hiding how flustered he was making you. He had always been more than attractive to you, that much was obvious. Maybe it was the amount of time you had been forced apart, but he was somehow driving you even more insane every time you looked at or even thought about him. You were obsessed, knowing your man was a gold medal champion. 

You thought you could handle seeing him walking around your apartment, shirtless, donning that medal, hell you even thought you wanted it. However, the minute you walked into the living room earlier and saw him standing there with his cup of coffee, leaning against your floor to ceiling windows, the city his backdrop you knew you were fucked. 

You swallow hard, trying to push the image from your mind and get your head out of the gutter. “You’re the worst”, you glare at him again. Who knew it would be the absolute worst thing you could’ve said. His already apparent smirk widens. 

“That’s not what you were saying last night”. 

And with those 8 words, he unleashes a monster. Your composure is gone, if it was there at all and you full on whine his name. 

This is when you get the confident hockey player side of him. He grins at his work, propping his head up behind one arm and beckoning you with the other. 

“C’mere, my little Gold-digger”. 

-- 

The end of the day was always your favorite. You thrived at night, even when you were exhausted. You loved looking out and seeing the night sky lit up with the city lights, you loved feeling small, tucked away in your own quiet corner of the world. But most of all, you loved those midnight talks with Dylan. Nothing was off limits with him, from outrageous would you rather that had you questioning whether you were dating a budding NHL player or a middle school boy to deep talks that had you believing with every fiber of your being that he was made just for you. 

Tonight as you lay in bed with him, you had a question for him that kept slipping your mind. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but why didn’t you just ask one of the boys to pick you up?” you ask, lifting your head off his chest, instead propping your head up on your arm. “I know Ryder’s been dying to see you, he’s been sending me withdrawal texts since we put you on a plane” you joke. 

“They don’t know I’m here yet”, he shrugs as if it’s no big deal. 

The hand that was tracing patterns on his chest stops and he turns to look at you, anticipating your question. “You didn’t tell them you were back?”

Again he shrugs, “They think I went home for a bit before I’m coming back”.

“Ohmygod your family. Dylan! Did you even see them while you were out there?” you ask sitting up suddenly. As selfish as it was, you had only thought about him seeing his family when he first left. It hadn’t even crossed your mind for him to stay with them before coming back to campus. Now you felt bad that he was with you and not his family, you knew he didn’t get to see them very often. 

His hands shoot out to grab yours and he pulls you back into his chest. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I saw them for a little bit before I left, they knew I wanted to get back though. I’ll be out there soon enough, I didn’t want to keep you waiting”.

You know your eyes are glassy when you look up at him to confirm he meant what he said. “And as much as I love the guys, they’re kind of dominating you know? I just wanted to spend a few days with my girl before we get our third wheel back” he says, giving you a squeeze. 

At that you have to laugh because Ryder really had become your third wheel and honestly Shay was your fourth. Whether they did it to bug Dylan or genuinely could not be apart from him you were still undecided, but either way, where there was your boyfriend, there was also your two other boyfriends. 

“He’s going to be so mad when he finds out” you tell him giggling at your little secret. 

“Not if he never finds out” 

“I think he has some kind of radar, D. I’m surprised he hasn’t already come knocking”.

“Don’t say that too loud” he laughs. 

And as if on cue, your phone dings asking if you knew when Dylan was coming back. Once your laughter dies out you settle in and relish in the warmth of having Dylan next to you in bed again. 

You’re on the verge of sleep when his voice cuts through the darkness. “Y/N?”

You hum in response. 

“Are you awake?” he asks, as if your response wasn’t enough. 

You roll over so that you’re facing him to see what’s keeping him up.

“I woke you up, didn’t I? Go back to sleep” he whispers. 

“You’ve got me, babe. What’s on your mind?”

He hesitates and you think he might’ve gone to sleep after all and so you call his name. 

“I’m here. I just-. You know what I was thinking of the whole time I was over there?” 

You raise your eyebrows even though you know he can’t see them in the darkness, but he continues on anyway. 

“I kept thinking everytime I walked into that building that this was going to be my future. That this is where my career was really going to start”. 

You had wondered about that, how he felt and what it was like for him to be spending so much time in the very place where he was going to be playing for the next three and maybe more years. But you had been too afraid to bring it up, for fear of starting a talk about the future that you were unprepared for. 

But you swallow your fears and ask anyway, “What was it like?”

You can hear the smile and excitement in his voice when he talks about his future home. “It’s amazing. It was such a privilege to be able to experience that before I get there, to get a taste of what’s to come, ya know? Like I can’t believe that that locker room is going to be mine and those stands are going to be filled with people that want to see my team play. It was surreal and humbling. It started to feel real”, and there’s something about his voice and the way he’s talking that you can tell is leading to something big. 

You brace yourself for impact when he swallows hard. He doesn't say anything else, he reaches up and brushes your hair back from your face instead. “Come on, Dylan, you’re scaring me. What aren’t you saying?” 

“It started to feel real,” he repeats. “I was in my home, so close to achieving my dream and all I could think about was how I wanted you there with me.” 

You don’t feel like it’s safe to let out the breath you’re holding quite yet. 

“I thought getting to the next level was the ultimate goal and in a way it still is, it’s what I’ve been working for my whole life, but Y/N it just didn’t feel right to not be able to share it with you too. I know it’s early and I don’t know where I’ll be this time next year, but when I do get there, I want you there with me. Edmonton might be where I’m going, but it won’t be home without you”. 

When he feels the wetness of your tears falling on his chest he’s concerned. But he knows you so well and knows what your love language is and so he tilts your chin up and kisses you hard. He tells you with his lips how much he loves you, how much he adores you, how much impact you’ve had on his life. And you kiss him right back, knowing you won’t be able to get the words out at this point. You kiss your relief, your love and your commitment into his soul. 

“So I’ll take that as a yes?” he asks breathless as he pulls away. 

You nod, equally as out of breath, “I’d follow you anywhere, Dylan Holloway”. 

No more needs to be said, the perfect words already professed. He tugs you a little closer to him and shuffles down the bed until his head is resting on your chest and the rest of his body is nesting itself a home in yours. It never fails to amaze you how much he loved to be the little spoon and how his fridge of a body managed to fit with yours perfectly. You fingers card through his hair, earning a content little sigh. You feel his breathing even out and you feel yourself nearing the edge of sleep too. 

You swore you would never get enough of the way he held onto you, tight enough to know you were wanted and loved. You would never get tired of the way his voice dropped, in tone because he was fighting sleep for you, but in volume because no one else needed to hear him but you. You would always crave the way his fingers would manage to trace light paths all across your face and arms as he opened himself up to you. There was something so vulnerable and honest about your nights spent with him and you prayed that they never ended. 

But his raspy voice breaks through the silence yet again, this time to ask, “How do you feel about silver? I’m bringing you home a Stanley Cup next”.

He lifts his head to flash that goofy grin your way as he soaks up your laughter. 

“Silver sounds good to me, baby”

With that he’s satisfied, but even with the new goal, your new pet name still sticks. “Goodnight, my little Gold-digger.”

[whimperwoods]

Oswin - Bedtime

Part 7! Oswin Greystone is a wizard, a con man, and, now, a warlock’s pet. It’s been several hours since he last begged. He only hopes it doesn’t make things worse. As much as he has the energy to hope.

tw: pet whump, tw: non-sexual nudity, tw: humiliation, tw: whumper is a  policeman/city guard captain, tw: gags, tw: choking mention, tw: ptsd (not-post though? idk), tw: literal boot-licking, tw: threats, tw: strangulation mention, tw: death threats, tw: animalization

There’s a masterpost now!

Taglist: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi, @starnight-whump

****

Oswin hadn’t known how much he actually appreciated the noise of the other guards until it was gone. They had been coming in and out downstairs, laughing and joking, taking time to spar with each other, voices and the clank of armor and the clack of wooden training swords all drifting up the stairs toward him and his master, and he hadn’t even thought to appreciate it.

Now, it was quiet in the building, and he found himself shaking again, instinctively pressing himself harder to the ground.

I need you coherent while I’m alone on the evening shift. That was what his master had said last night. The other guards could wait to be called on in the daylight, could take off time between their assigned rounds, could hang out loud between shifts, but now - now it was night and things were dangerous, and he couldn’t help thinking that nowhere was as dangerous as here.

His master reached toward him from the chair and he flinched away, only to be caught by the back of the collar, his master’s fingers brushing against the burn mark on the back of his neck and making him cry out, the sound cut off abruptly as his master wrenched him upward, pulling him onto his knees by the collar.

Oswin straightened his back and pressed up against the seat of the chair with his arms to help hold his head higher, gasping in precious air as his master’s grip loosened.

Then the hand gripped his chin and forced him to meet his master’s eyes. His stomach squirmed, but he forced himself not to look away, even as his eyes started to tear up again, of their own accord.

“I’ll tell you when to be afraid of me, boy. Now you’ll have to be gagged, for the trouble.”

Oswin whimpered, unable to stop himself.

A vicious tug on his hair was followed by a motion to backhand him across the face, but at the last moment, his master pulled the blow, another warning, like the missed kick, earlier. He’d thought about it, since then. Thought about how to say thank you.

He’d thought he’d be on the ground, but he adjusted, ducking his head to nuzzle against the side of the man’s knee instead of bowing over his foot again, and whined softly, hoping his master would understand it as gratitude for - gods, it wasn’t even lenience, was it? It was only a pulled blow, meant to scare him, and the only reason it had been pulled was that his master didn’t want him dead, didn’t want one more drip of blood from his nose to be his last. But he was stronger than that, now, if only barely. He was healing. And if he played his cards right, maybe he could keep healing.

He gave the man’s knee a second nudge with the side of his face, this time humming to make sure there was some kind of positive noise, and the captain snorted.

A rough hand petted through his hair again, and the man’s voice sounded warmer when he spoke. “Enough. Open your mouth.”

Oswin’s entire body shook, the memory of choking around the gag suddenly real and impossible. His throat threatened to close up, and his breaths shortened, but his mouth opened instinctively to take in more air, and his master was somehow, impossibly, unbearably, already holding the gag. He thrust the bar in between Oswin’s teeth and started buckling the back, his strong hands forcing Oswin’s head down against his knee hard enough that he could feel his master’s kneecap digging into his forehead.

When his master released him, he raised his head but stayed still, mind reeling. He forced himself to breathe, concentrated on breathing, still clinging desperately to the seat of the chair, still hunched awkwardly with his head bowed low over his master’s knees.

As he got a grip on himself, he realized his master was petting his hair again, a little more gently this time. “There you go,” he said softly, “You’re ready to be a good boy again, I can tell.”

Oswin closed his eyes and tried to relax, laying his cheek against his master’s thigh, just a little above the knee, where it was softer and not so bony. Maybe if he seemed relaxed, he would be allowed to keep breathing. In through his nose. Out through his nose. Not too fast. Not too slow. Breathing. He was still breathing. It was ok. He was still breathing.

His master actually laughed. “Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you?” he asked, but his hand was still gentle in Oswin’s hair. He shouldn’t respond, shouldn’t make it go from joke to more punishment, but some part of him was so relieved to hear his master happy that he could almost cry, and he nuzzled against the captain’s thigh with his nose, still keeping quiet.

His master’s hand swept gently through his hair one more time before the man shoved Oswin away from him, firmly but without the strength Oswin knew he had.

“Come on, pet. Time for dinner.” He snorted, half chuckle. “Mine, anyway. But you had lunch. We’ll see if you do better tomorrow.”

Oswin’s mind stayed thoroughly wrapped up in breathing, in through his nose, out through his nose, keeping his throat and sinuses as open as he could, breathing in, breathing out, not allowed to remember almost dying, holding the thought at bay, at arm’s length, only breathing, only allowed to breathe, and somehow he was down the stairs. Somehow he was kneeling beside his master, too in his own head to notice the smell of his master’s dinner or the growling of his stomach. Somehow, he was climbing the stairs again. Somehow kneeling beside his master as the man looked at a map of the town. Somehow still moving, still following orders.

He thought about breathing.

He thought about breathing.

His master was speaking to him, and he realized with a start that he hadn’t been listening.

The Captain laughed. “That’s right, there’s some proper gratitude. You’ll still be chained, of course, but it’ll be softer up there. And you can keep my feet warm, if it comes to it.”

Oswin didn’t know what his master was talking about, but he made a concentrated effort to pay more attention, to listen when his master spoke, to notice the orders he was following instead of just trailing along.

He let his master shackle him to the foot of the bed, climbed tentatively up onto it when his master gestured, curled in on himself with his eyes still on his master’s face, but then - then his master was stepping away, leaving him there, moving to change into his sleeping clothes, and the only thing more frightening than having a gag in his mouth was having a gag in his mouth and his master clear on the other side of the room, or even worse, asleep and not watching to remove the gag if Oswin choked again.

Making a muffled noise through the gag, he flung himself off the bed and crawled forward, prostrating himself at his master’s feet as the man stopped in surprise.

“Pleathee, Mathhter,” he managed through the gag, “Pleathe, I cannn. I cannn bleathe. Pleathe.”

He couldn’t bear to look up, couldn’t bear to see his master’s face. He crawled forward still farther, hunching over to press his forehead to the top of his master’s foot.

“Pleathe, I cannnn.”

His master’s voice was cold and measured, which was at least better than an immediate flash of rage. “So you want your gag out,” he said, “After I specifically rewarded you. That’s not enough for you.”

Oswin’s eyes filled with tears. He couldn’t think of a better way to ask, a better way to beg, but even without falling, the tears threatened to make his throat thicken, his nose close up, to make him choke again, and all he could do was cry out more loudly while he still had breath.

“Pleathe, mathhhher. Pleathe.”

“Raise your head up.”

The voice was still cold as ice, and Oswin’s entire body trembled as he followed instructions.

For a moment, his master held Oswin’s head in his hands, watching the half-panicked breaths through his nose, the tears glinting in his eyes, taking it all in.

Then he unbuckled the gag and pulled it out of Oswin’s mouth. The moment his mouth was freed, Oswin found himself collapsing back to the ground, sobbing with his forehead pressed to the ground in front of his master’s feet, gasping and panting and managing only garbled, desperate “thank you”s in gratitude.

His master let him weep, let him pant and sob and humiliate himself, but he could feel the man’s stiffness even through his own relief, could feel tension in his stance and cold radiating from him.

When Oswin finally quieted, his master spoke again, that same ice in his voice. “Kiss my feet, wizard. I’m not sure you’re grateful enough, yet.”

Oswin complied, too wrung out with crying and fear even to hesitate. He pressed a kiss to the top of the well-kept leather of one foot, and was halfway to the other when his master snapped his fingers, stopping him. Oswin looked up, noting the way his master’s face was still strangely implacable, neither angry nor pleased, a mystery.

“I’ve changed my mind,” he said, calmly, and this time Oswin could hear the sizzle in it, could hear anger threatening to burst into flame. “Lick it. I want my boots clean enough to pass inspection with the king, before I let you go to sleep. I’m going to stand right here until you finish, and if you make me wait until I’m tired, you’ll be wearing that gag to bed if it kills you. Am I clear?”

Oswin didn’t try to answer, didn’t dare nod, didn’t know how else to say yes. Part of him knew that if he did this, there was no going back. The other part of him was already moving.

His master’s boots were mostly clean-ish already, kept polished as befitted his station, and he had been inside all day, but Oswin could still taste dirt and filth as his tongue swiped over the leather, his mouth already starting to go dry from dust and terror.

He focused on his breathing again as he continued, his mind squirming away from all the thoughts he couldn’t bear thinking, the thoughts that weren’t his task, his breathing. He wasn’t blushing, and passively, for a moment, he noted that that was strange. But then he had control of his mind again, control of his own focus. He was breathing. He was breathing. He was allowed to breathe, and this was the cost. He could only think about being allowed to breathe.

By the end he was barely on his hands and knees, barely able to keep going as his whole body shook. His mouth was dry. It was so dry. He kept having to stop, to swallow what dirt he could and force what moisture he could, but he kept his head down, kept his eyes focused on his master’s boots, tried not to look hesitant, not to look disobedient, gods, he couldn’t wear the gag again, he had to do this, he had to do this, he was still breathing.

Finally, he’d covered every inch of the leather, done everything he could, and he was going to stop breathing again if he couldn’t be finished, was going to have his throat close up on him from dryness and - and.

He pressed his forehead to his master’s boot again, one last silent plea before he crawled slightly backward, away.

He could feel his master’s eyes on him, on him and not on the boots at all, and he tried not to squirm under that gaze, not to shrink farther toward the ground or try to evade.

Finally, his master started moving, walking away without a word to him, and then sat on the side of the bed and took his boots off, looking thoughtfully at them while Oswin tried not to move, tried not to look afraid when he wasn’t allowed to be, tried not to look like he was trying to be more pathetic than he was, tried to keep breathing.

“You can have a drink of water,” his master said after a moment, “But you’re sleeping on the floor.”

Oswin was exhausted, half dazed, and he couldn’t work out how to answer as a dog, could barely work out how to answer as a human. “Yes, master,” he whispered. And then - “Thank you, master.”

He didn’t have the energy, when his master placed a bowl of water on the floor, to wonder when he’d brought it up here, how long he’d been planning this. He just crawled forward and drank from it, right there beside his master’s bed, lowering his head all the way into the bowl to drink awkwardly from it and trying to think only of the relief of cleaning his mouth out, of wetting his throat, of breathing easier, of feeling less like he might gag.

He drank what he could and then pulled away, certain of one thing and one thing only. When he was rested, he could think of getting away again. For now, he could make sure his master didn’t make anything worse.

He pressed his forehead to each of his master’s stocking feet in turn, and stilled without moving away when the man’s hand reached for him, tipping his chin up so that he had to look into those cold brown eyes.

“You’re pathetic,” the man said, his voice half growl, half disdain.

Oswin knew what answer was wanted. “Yes, master.” It was almost a whisper, but he knew the man would hear, knew how hard he was listening.

“If you make me break you, I will.”

“Yes, master.”

“Anything you do for me, I will ask of you again,” he continued, voice growing quieter, more thoughtful. He patted Oswin on the side of the face, “Remember that before you pretend to be more broken than you are. I don’t like playing games.”

“I understand, master.”

The man rose to his feet again. “Sleep on the floor. And if you make a sound after I so kindly removed that gag for you, I will strangle you until you die under my fingers and then I will make you wear the gag again when he returns you to me.”

The Captain didn’t even look back as he made the threat, moving steadily back to his chest of drawers to get his nightshirt.

“Yes master,” Oswin answered, more loudly, so that it would carry all the way to his master’s ears, hoping he wasn’t about to die for it, “I understand.”

His master’s only answer was a short grunt, and then Oswin tucked himself away, halfway under the edge of the bed, his tongue falling silent. He had a lot to think about, but for now - for now his mind was as tired as his body, strung out and wrung dry.

He fell asleep quickly, his body curling protectively in on itself even in slumber.

[the-romantic-lady]

Surprised to hear you like Henry VI and Margaret of Anjou, given that you're a fan of Richard, Duke of York. Isn't that a conflict of interest or something? Lol. What's your opinion on Elizabeth Woodville and the Woodville clan, Margaret Beaufort, Warwick and the Neville clan, and George, Duke of Clarence? (Basically what's your opinion on the rest of the players of the Wars of the Roses lol.)

Gosh, anon you are encouraging me!! I love that you care about my thoughts <3. Alright then, let's start.

I used to be very anti-Margaret of Anjou. Until I started to look at things from her perspective. York was dangerously popular with a lot of children and a formidable wife. Margaret must have felt insecure. Also, there is this theory that Margaret's mentor and confidant William de la Pole, Duke of Suffolk was murdered under the order of the Duke of York. That must have been a tipping point. But I still think that York was the better ruler and person. I will get a lot of hate for this, but women in general were not suitable rulers for the Middle Ages. They were often driven by more personal ideals (Empress Matilda vs. Stephen is a great example and Margaret was no different). Ofc there were men like that too but women seemed to always be like that. As a woman, I understand and the later periods were more suitable for female leadership. York was a much better ruler. He was driven by the stability of the realm rather than his personal issues (he put his own son-in-law in prison and Margaret wouldn't even budge on her failure advisors). And her entitlement was mind-boggling. I love how messed up she was. And Henry...I just feel sorry for him. The Middle Ages also were not a time for artistic and kind kings lol.

Elizabeth Woodville and the Woodville Clan:

As I have said, I pretty much like everyone before 1485 lol. But Elizabeth Woodville was annoying af. That made her interesting but I can't get over how incredibly greedy she was. She was the daughter of a minor gentry and widow of a Lancastrian knight. Edward makes her queen and she abuses that power so much. She has problems with everyone. Warwick, George, Richard, any noble who didn't kiss her arse and even Edward. Queens were meant to level the mind of King. Edward III's queen famously saved French clergy by going on her knees to beg the King for mercy. Ofc that was a bit dramatic but many Queens did this. It was called the Queen's mercy or something like that. But boy was she a hell of a woman. Despite being raised in a pretty privileged household, she was shrewd and survived to the end. She could have learned a thing or two from Cecily Neville about how to put that strong personality to better use but regardless. Also, I love how she was shunned fron Henry Tudor's court when Richard welcomed her to his with open arms. I mean...karma. But all in all, I like her. Its as they say "well behaved women seldom make history". She had flaws (so did the everyone else!) but her character is interesting and admirable. And despite that shaved forehead, she is a gorgeous woman. So I get where Edward was coming from XD The other social climbing members Woodville..not so much. The shameless way that they tried to push themselves in and take hold of power when they had literally fought on the losing Lancastrian side is embarrassing and oh so disgusting. Like Warwick secured the throne for Edward and they were given precedence over him. I just...yeah. John Woodville legit married a 65 year old duchess (he was 19) for money and power. They were a hungry bunch and courting them was Edward IV's biggest mistake and towards the end of his life, I think he saw that.

Margaret Beaufort

I will keep this short since I don't know much about her but I dislike her. I understand that she went through a lot. Her father apparently suicided when she was 1 and that is traumatic. And back then suicide was mocked and disgraced. She ofc blamed the Duke of York....cause at this point why not? She ofc went through a really young and traumatic birth at 13. Her husband was gross and that's that. And we know that Edward kept her son exiled so she couldn't see him. But despite all this, I just don't like her? I suppose its the super impressive Plantagenet women who just make me look at the sleezy and dull Margaret with disdain. And she gives me real phony vibes. Like at times, she just seemed to cosplay Cecily Neville lol. When you see women like Cecily Neville and Margaret of Anjou taking charge in the way they did, Margaret and her deceptive ways are just cringe worthy.

The Earl of Warwick

This man. Just this man. The way that England seemed to revolve around his whims is amazing. He was a real Duke of York stan and so I have to appreciate him. But he was so fearless. Henry VI, Edward IV, Margaret of Anjou, you name it. He stood against them. The Duke of York seemed to be someone he admired but other than that, he fought for himself. He helped Edward take the crown and worked hard to keep Edward's throne. He was embarrassed with the whole secret marriage saga but still stuck by. But Edward clearly forgot who he owed his success too. The man escaped an assassination by Henry VI's men and saved his father and uncle from it. He actually took charge in the first Battle of St. Albans in 1455 because his rivals the Percys were mocking him. I just love him. Ngl, sometimes when I read about him, I just blush. A man if there ever was one. There were so many attempts at disgracing him. He was the Captain of Calais and in that role fought Medieval pirates! And he was ruthless at it. People loved him and he carried that popularity well. I should stop fangirling over a dead guy. I think I made it pretty clear that I love him XD.

Neville clan

I like them too. Warwick's father was pretty much York's best friend and I love him for it. They were also social climbers like the Woodvilles but so much better at it. They didn't have the entitlement that the Woodvilles did and managed their powers well. Cecily Neville was ofc a Neville and she is one of my favorites. One of my favorite thing about them is how courageous they were. Like all of them. Unfortunately, Anne and Isabel are both obscure figures. I wish we knew more about them. They were pushed around like prizes. Good on Richard for giving Anne a position to make her own decision. I feel bad for those girls. Although the York brothers were known to be good looking so lucky them?

George, Duke of Clarence

Ah, George. I love this man. If there was one son of York who inherited his father's glamour and charm, it was George. And I love that he stood up to his brother and sister-in-law. He was sometimes too problematic but I still love that! Glamourous and problematic. How can one not love the man? Although his betrayal of Edward is kind of sad considering that Edward really tried to be like a dad to his brothers. George took Edward's love for granted for too long. His breakdown after his wife's death is really sad too. Interestingly, this seems to be a pattern with the Plantagenet men. They all have breakdowns and downfalls after the death of their wives. Their women are so much stronger emotionally.

I know this was long! I hope you enjoyed the post :D. I would love to know your thoughts too and if you agree or disagree. Seriously, thank you for letting me talk about this. Nothing makes me happier than to discuss these people!

[ldouble]

Helluva Party | Steve Rogers x Reader

summary: As a former employee of S.H.I.E.L.D (on the very front lines), you're somehow pulled into attending a notorious Tony Stark party. That’s where you meet Steve Rogers, officially, and the two of you weirdly click. Two people - trying to make a new life, who keep getting sucked into their old ways.

characters: steve rogers x reader

The elevator effortlessly glides up, but your stomach feels like you’re on the twistiest and turniest roller coaster. You have to put a hand to your torso, repeat the words you tell patients when they feel sick for no reason, remind yourself it’s nothing.

Therapy is one thing to talk someone down from. When you’re calming someone down, its because they’re about to do some major self discovery, scientifically aided, and healed if not completely cured.

They have no reason to worry.

And neither do you.

But Stark Tower is intimidating. Especially when it hosts everything you’ve been trying to forget.

You got a fresh start last year. S.H.I.E.L.D fell. Your work dried up. There was no where else you were needed. Enough had been accidentally cut on your watch with your knife throwing skills. So you did what you always wanted, before your deathly hobby turned into a career. You were now working as a psychiatrist. You got out of your own head to get into others.

Now, you were suddenly crawling back into the brains that you had almost become.

The stop of the elevator had you poised to hit the close door button, ready to make your way back down to the lobby to grab a cab home to your apartment. But your psychologist mind took over, the practice what you preach mentality overtaking, and your finger fell.

By the time the doors opened with a ding, your chin was up and head held somewhat high. It was the quickest reset you had ever performed. If only you had your notorious notebook to jot down how it had worked so well.

You had just remembered the old receipt in your clutch (dated with the last time you dressed up which was ages ago) that you could write on when someone yelled your name. At the sight of Natasha Romanoff, the idea of writing down your findings flew out the window.

“Nat!” You smile, accepting the Russian’s hug.

She reciprocates the action, asking more questions than you usually got out in an hour session with a routine client.

By the time you had make it to the bar you are filled in on all she had been up to, the details of the latest mission in retrieving of Loki’s scepter and all things Bruce.

Natasha gulps at you look once she finished retelling the doctor’s recent findings with the tesseract. She was already shaking her head at your silent implications when you placed a gentle hand over hers.

“As a doctor myself,” Natasha rolls her eyes at the mention of your new job. “No one talks that much about me unless they like me way more than a doctor.”

Natasha bites her lip, mumbling something about how you outfit was too nice to kick me. You laughed, a hearty laugh you hadn’t felt in ages. Upon seeing her recognize the newfound happiness you shooed her behind the bar in ask for a drink. 

She waltzes away giving you just enough time to collect yourself once again. You hate to admit it (acceptance was always the hardest step of grief) but you missed her. You missed the days of fighting, working, living and saving.

It was harder to see the goals you met in your new line of work. It took years to build a client base, see your patients make progress, feel like you’re helping people when all you can do is listen.

It never felt good to kill someone. The sound of a blade whipping through the air was satisfying but nothing felt better than knowing there was less person doing the opposite of helping. Hurting. Hunting. Killing.

So why did you feel like you were doing something similar not being in the field?

You blink the thoughts away, turning to wave Nat down for something a little stronger than a beer when you saw her chatting it up with none other than Dr. Banner. You shake your head, your eyes moving back down the bar.

Your focus is caught by a brooding blonde. A literal God, named Thor. But its his neighbor that makes you freeze. Tony Stark never really had that effect on women (it was his money that enticed them not his looks) but the mere sight of him makes you gasp.

Your last conversation hadn’t been the most pleasant. You had refused a job at Stark Industries, believing you needed a clean break. He had pressed you to the point of pure anguish. The last thing you remember saying to him was something along the lines of, “You can’t ask me to stay to help you sort out whatever that is.” With a point at his head.

You quickly turn around, not wanting a repeat when he already had a glass of champagne in his hand. Sober Tony was obnoxious. Intoxicated Tony was a whole other level of big headedness.

You make your way through the party, ignoring the likes of anyone who looks remotely familiar. The few who had stayed loyal to the real S.H.I.E.L.D rather than turn in favor for HYDRA had come over, just like Tony asked you to. It was unclear who was worse to be trapped into a conversation with - someone who knew why you were no longer involved or those who didn’t.

You find your way up to a second floor hallway, one side looking out onto the party while the other faced the skyline. Uninterested in people watching (a reason that sounded much more mature than not wanting to be recognized) you face the large windows out onto the city.

You spin on your heel, your eyes traveling from the lights outside to inside when your eyes glaze over the very face of the Avengers.

But it isn’t Captain America’s face that caught your attention, rather the conversation his friend was spitting.

“Avenging is your world.” Sam Wilson, The Falcon, shakes his head into space, before turning to face the party just across the aisle. “Your world is crazy.”

It was your turn to shake your head, biting your lip in a weird resonation of his words. His next words, be it ever so humble, about the entire situation.

He was right. You know it, too. This world of fighting was hectic. Chaos. It really shouldn’t exist. But then you’d look out over some fancy party and it’s be easy to grasp. It wasn’t the alcohol or glamour, it was the aura that it had.

“You find a place in Brooklyn yet?”

The Super Soldier held back his own chuckle. “I don’t think I can afford a place in Brooklyn.”

It was hard to believe but easy to understand. It was an expensive burrow. Still, you found yourself laughing under your breathe.

Sam said something about home being home, which you also understood, but only between a laugh. Your breathy sound ends just as Tony’s favorite team member looked back at you.

The next thing out of your mouth was a gasp for air, followed quickly by a cough you tried to cover up. You face the window, trying your best to play it off. The sudden eye contact scares you. First it was the fear of being recognized. That outrageous thought was quickly thrown out.

The thing is, you hadn’t exactly...met him. It felt wrong to even think of him as Steve Rogers when you’d never been introduced. Anytime Nat mentioned him you couldn’t believe the first name basis they had. You weren’t starstruck - not by a lot. You’d spent time in labs with Iron Man and the Hulk. You grabbed coffee with Black Widow. Thor had given you a freaking birthday gift.

No super soldier named Captain America scared you.

Except the one sidling up next to you now.

“Hi, there.” He says, bending down to grab your attention.

And right then, after feeling immense anxiety and worry of coming face to face with anyone who worked for the thing you had left behind, you felt perfectly comfortable in front of their very leader.

You’d been listening to Tony too much, through Nat. Captain America was the elected leader. Tony just made everybody look good.

“Hi.” You say, bringing yourself out of your head.

His blue sparkled, a lopsided smile reaching his lips as his hand reaches out to you. “Have we met?”

“Almost.” You say automatically, the word being more of a thought you wanted to keep than share. You shake your head, correcting yourself. “No.”

“Steve.” He says after learning your name. You can tell the way he locks it away, his eyes slightly closed as if grabbing the word from your mouth and putting it in storage. “I’m sorry, were you almost put in ice too or did you see me through a subway door closing?”

You can’t help the smile on your face, his humor and charm exactly what you expected. “No.” A hand find your hair and you watches the way his eye tracked the small scar on your finger. It was from when you were five. You cut yourself with a knife, a knife you weren’t supposed to be holding. From that point on your swore you’d never hold a knife again if you didn’t know how to use it. You thought that meant culinary school. Not becoming a dagger throwing agent.

Your other hand traces the mark, that runs from the tip of your left pointer finger to the center of your knuckles.

“I used to be in a similar business.”

You watch Steve accept the answer, silently deciphering your words. To relieve him you continued, now having a better thought to go off of. “I save people. From themselves.”

“I’m a psychiatrist.” You conclude, wanting to put him out of his misery. You crack a smile, earning one from him. He bobs his head, looking out into the city, thinking. You could tell, again, facial cues. You did a lot of listening and watching now. A few years ago you would’ve thrown a blade to trap his shirt against a wall while another went to his throat to demand a response.

You sort of like watching him form his words.

A question, expertly designed, was on the tip of his tongue when a booming voice yells his name. Thor waved from below enthusiastically. You quickly turn, not wanting to start a conversation with the God of Thunder. He always seemed to get you into existential conversation. In the old English, and it being so late, you couldn’t handle it.

“Don’t leave him waiting or else he’ll send Mjollnir up here.” You say, already backing away.

Steve looks up at you, a playful smile hinted at his lips. But it didn’t reach the surface, curiosity and confusion at your sudden departure the priority.

You want to stay. But the thought of explaining...of answering...even the oh so amazing Captain America, has you wanting to run back to the elevator.

The only reason you exit the conversation rather than the entire building...is the slight beat of your heart and reddening of your cheeks at the idea of talking with him again. Unlike Thor, you could even get into all the existential stuff with him.

Exactly what the super soldier would deem too out of the box is on your mind when you run into the one person you don’t want to see. The host himself.

Tony takes you under his wing, literally, walking you around the party. Surprisingly enough, not once does he convince you to come back to work. He asks questions and wants to know all about you.

You oblige, enlightening him with tiny details. Your lack of confidence in the authenticity isn’t from lack of trust, but because you spend more time inquiring about him. Wordlessly, that is your psych perception takes over as you study him. You conclusion: he’s only asking about lowly you because he’s sitting high and dry. Which isn’t a new thing for Tony Stark, tech mogul and THE Iron Man. But something tells you his latest win isn’t one just shared with the public yet. Too good to be true, even to the optimist that is Tony.

He leaves you, letting you walk around for the rest of the party. Hours pass, partygoers dwindling both from the penthouse and your data set to people watch. Numbers low on who to analyze, you turn around in a circle, sure you couldn’t have taken in every person in attendance. A full 180 and you come face to face with the man with a target on your back.

He makes sure of your hunch, that he’s had it out for you, with the sly comment, “You ditch a Brooklyn boy for some Staten Islander?”

You look over your shoulder, playing along. “I was actually waiting for this guy from Manhattan to fetch me a drink.” You look back at him, his head titled in focus. You stumble for a moment, not used to the attention being on you. To the floor you say, “I don’t think city guys are good at service.”

“it’s a damn good thing you’re with a soldier.” He smiles, offering his arm as he steps beside you.

You hesitate, your knowledge on attraction and how one simple touch can lead to a million mistakes and miscommunications. You let your head take over your heart this time, walking ahead of him. “Last I checked, Captains don’t fetch anything for someone else.”

Accepting the (slight) rejection, Steve joins into step with you, his hands stuffing into his pockets. “You make me sound like Stark.”

“We all sound a little like him after too much time together.” You shrug. Catching Steve’s curious eye, clearly wondering how and when you worked with Tony, you saddle up behind the bar to distract yourself. “It’s called mirroring behavior. Say, I grab a beer you have a higher chance of doing the same just because of me.”

Steve smiles at you over the counter, watching as you open the bottle and take a swig. “But what if I just like beer?”

You roll your eyes, bringing the cider to your lips. “Or so you say.”

“You’re good at your job. Tony help you with that?”

You nearly choke on your drink. Why? It’s a toss up for the unexpected question or the tone of jealousy you think you detect in his voice. Upon looking at him you can’t see if your suspicion is correct. He’s casual, leaning an elbow on the table and gazing around the room without a care.

When his eyes find yours again you can’t help but trust him. You deem it the authority he has within his role, rather than something like the way he looks at you or how cute he is, before answering. “He wishes my career took me here. But after the collapse of S.H.I.E.L.D,” It’s Steve’s turn to look at you to ensure trust, your words an unspoken truth among so many secret keepers. “I found my way into a new line of work.”

You turn to your left, finding a spec on the marble to transfix on. When he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even chastise you for so openly talking about the failure of his former employer, you look up at him. Only for your eyes to track his, to none other than your hand.

You hadn’t even realized you were still holding the can opener. it was a wine/bottle mix and you had the corkscrew raised and the entire contraption being spun in your hand like....like a knife.

Mirroring. In a room of superheroes and fighters, you resort back to your own ways. You remind yourself this is exactly why you weren’t supposed to come when Steve speaks.

“Reading people?” He asks, genuine interest in his voice. You see his eyes barely flit back to your hand, forcing you to set the church key down, but ignore it, just like he is choosing to do. You nod. “Can you read them?”

You follow his finger, stifling a laugh when it lands on Nat and Bruce, clearly flirting just down the bar.

“Reading, not pointing.” You reprimand with sarcasm, quickly covering his hand. Heat travels up your elbow, your hand flying back to the cold corkscrew for comfort as you clear your throat. Steve’s eyes wanders away and for a second you think he felt it too when you shake your head. There are patients. No time to dilly dally.

After a moment you say,“From a psychiatric point of view, I’d say the male is exerting immense amount of dopamine, just getting by the stressors and paraysmpathic nervous system. Whereas the female’s self esteem is battling her body’s immediate release of cortisol.”

Steve looks up at you, his mouth hung open. As dryly as you can, you say, “He likes her and she likes him.”

It sparks a laugh from both of you, a long one that doesn’t end till he puts his hand over yours in an effort to stop. You let it rest, liking the feeling of the cold marble and his warm hand more than any old corkscrew.

“So how you going to diagnose them?” He asks, clearing his throat and suddenly removing his hand.

You tilt your head toward the pair - an assassin and a man who can’t control his killing - and take a second to think. That second is when Nat decides to leave, gliding past you effortlessly. As she walks by you say to Steve, more so to yourself, “It’s hard for people to hear the truth.”

Steve is looking over to Bruce when you tip your head back to him. You can see the question on the tip of his tongue and you want to stop him but he’s too quick.

Don’t play cupid, is the second most common thing you say to clients. Right after the ‘truth is hard to hear’ piece.

You can’t help but put your head in your hands when he outrightly says Bruce and Romanoff “is nice”. It’s a psychologists worst nightmare. Not the one you thought you’d see play out but it’s happening, so you can’t help but listen.

It’s the way Bruce stumbles in reply that sends you walking down the bar. You throw Steve nothing but a “watch yourself’ look before listening from your new spot.

You clink your nearly empty beer bottle on the counter when Bruce comes up with an excuse. It does more than you plan it too, as it grabs Steve’s attention and has him going for another one and making his way over to you. You can’t help but notice the way he smiles sincerely at his friend when announcing himself a leading authority in waiting too long. The statement makes you pause, but not long enough to miss Bruce asking about exactly how close Steve was to Nat’s flirting..

“Pointing works.” He says when he arrives in front of you, the unopened bottle extended (if not pointed) directly at you.

You accept, clinking off the cap with the opener still in your hand. “Yeah, yeah.”

He watches you take a sip, his eyes once again telling more than he thinks they do.

Your hand, once again holding the opener in the knife-life way is his next question. For once, you want to keep the conversation about work.

“My job is to listen. What you just did was talk.”

Steve mulls it over, taking the beer form your hand and tipping it back. He holds it out you, in offering. “OK. You talk. I’ll listen.”

You bite your lip. Knowing this could be bad. There’s a reason you listen. Talking...it’s like any pointy object for you. Someone always ends up stabbed.

Then again, how seriously injured could Captain America get? You already have one scar. A “Star Spangled Man with a Plan” shaped wound could be your next story.

A new blemish never arises. You don’t even feel so much as a pinch of pain. Talking to Steve, for hours, makes you feel about as painless as you been ever since you left the line of work.

Then again, your old career never makes an appearance in conversation. He did ask about your current career so that’s what you talk about. Psychology. Which leads to music. TV. His favorite food and how its Apple Pie. He doesn’t listen when you insist Pumpkin is better.

Your love of Chinese food is perfectly timed to the late night order, scoring you a seat and a plate at the after-party, so to speak.

That’s where you find yourself, on the couch with a small cluster of people. Most of which are the ones you had planned to ignore. Rhodey, Tony, Clint, Maria Hill, and Nat don’t as much as eye you suspiciously, thankfully. Besides, you mostly people watch, only talking when Steve wants some insight on whether or not Thor is really spiking his drink or giving him something watered down.

You share a look with Thor, encouraging the addition of it into Steve’s next beer, when Clint questions the God’s almighty hammer. You laugh when Clint looks at the thing bewildered at his inability in to lift it.

Steve joins you in softened laughter at Stark’s attempts. His head finds your shoulder when Rhodey and him quarrel about representing in their effort to pull the hammer off the table. But he refuses to make so much as a peep when Banner tries to “Hulk” it up, saying he doesn’t want to hurt the guy’s chances with Nat.

Before you can tell him Bruce could do no wrong in the red head’s eyes, it’s Steve’s turn. The way he rolls up his sleeves, making it clear he’s taking it seriously, has you silent. You can tell a lot by a person in the way they go about a challenge. it doesn’t surprise you at all, despite the short time you two have talked, that Steve goes for it.

It’s no shock at all that your attention switches to Thor. The look of panic, which you’re sure only you are watching, astounds you. Never once had the God been this nervous. But here he was, holding his tongue as Steve nudged the alien club up.

Steve comes back to you in defeat. You offer him a supportive pat on the back, having his eyes for all but a moment until everyone’s eyes land on you. Recognizing Nat just turned down the offer you shake your head. “Lift with your brain, not your weak bones.”

Steve gives you an impressed look, opening his mouth to call you out when Hill remarks the use of bad language.

“I had a feeling you’d be a stickler for that.” You theorize aloud.

Steve looks at you over his shoulder, raising a brow. “Oh yeah?”

“Oh yeah.” You reiterate.

Thor proves you all wrong, effortlessly lifting his weapon of choice, declaring no one worthy.

The group laughter is cheerful and it warms your heart. Something about comfort between all of these people who live so dangerously, intrigues you. Your mouth opens to ask Steve how he’s come to trust them when a high pitched noise floods the space and has you covering your ears.

Your breath catches at the sight of a botched bot, standing in the shadows. Its robotic voice, oddly human, has you biting on your lip. It’s been a while since you’ve been faced with anything worse than a crying client.

Something tells you this won’t end in tissues and a hug.

Steve, who stood upon the unaccounted for noise, says Tony’s name with more frustration that you could ever imagine coming out of the man. You look up to him in surprise, only to look back at the way his hand is flexed in front of you. It’s a poor job at guarding you but something tells you that if he had his shield within reach he’d have grabbed it already.

The bot piques yours interest, his mumbled statements about his own sleep like unscnoius state making you nervous. The way he’s so...real...takes forefront over Tony’s own whispering. But even without your focus directly on him, something tells you he’s unsure. It’s never a good sign when the host is surpised.

You slowly stand as the intruder fumbles with himself. You’re studying him so discreetly you actually wave away Steve’s warning hand.

“You killed someone?”

“No he didn’t.” You murmur, only loud enough for Steve to hear. He gazes back at you for a moment and you shake your head, confirming your suspicion. The...thing in front of you is no real killer. Not yet.

When Tony’s voice rings out from the bot the tension rises in the room. You couldn’t cut it with a knife it’s so thick...which takes a lot for someone with the throwing capabilities of yourself.

You don’t mind it, knowing the pressing threat stands in front of you rather than beside. The wise words erupting from the in flesh Ultron has you racking your brain...about nothing less than the brain in front of you. Computers have never outsmarted you. Then again, it’s been a while since you’ve been around Tony.

His building - in tone and message- signals something much more violent is about to begin. No sane person builds a mountain of words not to stand on it later. Maria Hill cocks her gun as you take in your surroundings. You believe a chopstick to be your best option for a weapon, at least one you can throw, when the crash of walls begins the battle you were really hoping not to get into tonight.

It’s like Steve senses your lack of protection, taking it upon himself to upchuck the table for cover. Instinctively, you crowd down in front of the couch, just missing the hit that Steve takes with the attempted cover.

A big part of you wants to make sure he’s OK, scream his name and chase after him, but it’s not the time. People come to you to recover with your help. Steve isn’t one of those people.

So, you go into survival mode.

You army crawl across the room, watching every disappear from the main level. They’re smart enough to find cover and/or a weapon. You, out of practice and way out shape, head across the room...you know, to the empty space ensuring no safety.

Catching sight of Nat, now armed, you duck down knowing there has to be a gun stashed somewhere. It’s not your first weapon of choice, having never trusted a bullet as much as a blade but something is better than nothing.

And nothing is what you find.

You graze every table you can, certain it hasn’t been long enough for you to forget what a gun feels like, when spot Nat and Bruce flying up the stairs.

Sure Nat has already pleaded with the doctor not to turn green you avert your eyes to Stark, flailing on the back of a bot with what appears to be a fondue fork. You’d kill for a fondue fork right now.

What catches your eye instead is something much less picking. It’s perfect timing too as you spot Dr. Cho crowding behind the piano, face to face with a waist up robot, hand glimmering and all.

In a split second your hand grasps around the candlestick and you toss it through the air. Despite the noise you hear its whistle and while it’s really not the time, you relish the sound that you missed so much.

It hits the neck, chopping off its head just as Steve clambers on top of it, chucking git to Thor to smash, to ensure it’s no chicken working with its head cut off.

A shield wizzes past your head, slicing another member of Ultron’s army seconds later.

Its lonely leader speaks next, chilling the charged air.

Before you know it you’re flinging the other candlestick (it is a set) at Ultron, stabbing his arm. It earns the tines looks of him before a dry chuckle. You don’t take your eyes off of him despite the stare you know you’re getting.

His next words are directed at you. “You just didn’t think it through.” His knowledge of what feels like the entire world makes you believe that while his idenity is still a mystery, yours is not to him.

Your presumption is all but proved when his crumbled form sings the infamous Pinocchio song. Not once was it sung at the party. Everything his at his finger tips. Yourself included.

The blue of his eyes fade but he surely doesn’t leave the room. Tony sighs, clutching himself on the stairs. Thor breathes heavily hwile Nat looks worridely at Bruce, who appears on the edge of vomitting up all the food he didn’t eat a the party. Cho looks terrfiied. Hill and Rhodey on the lower level.

That leaves Steve. Watching you.

In four steps he’s at your side, his hands on your arms as he checks you out. Not like that. You remind, tell, yourself its not like that as you meet his eyes.

“Im’ fine.”

"That’s not what I was going to say.”

“Guess you’re better at reading people then.” Humor has always been your go-to. There’s not anything much heavier than blood and blades. The least you could do is quip something light.

Steve steps forward, his voice dropping just for you to hear. “I was going to say you’re a damn good throw.”

The End

[acabecca]

“Say that you wanna be with me too.” JAS AND BUCKY

I have no idea what this is I’m sorry. I wanted to make it longer and set it during THAT episode of fatws but it didn’t make sense to me to do it, even as an au because apparently I am very fussy when it comes to Jas and Bucky 🙄

(also the picture is not what happens in the prompt i just like is lol)

(featuring a surprise cameo by mr steven rogers because my mind cant process that he might possibly be and is most probably the D word) this prompt is unnecessarily long i apologise

*

Pushing her sunglasses up on top of her head, Jas kept hold of the brightly wrapped present and nudged the car door closed with her hip. She heard more than saw the kids playing somewhere over beside the cabin, and she made her way over to place the box in her hands on the table that was already crammed full of gifts.

Pepper had clearly gone all out and so had everyone else, trying to overcompensate for Tony not being around. It was Morgan’s first birthday without him, and Pepper had opted to invite everyone around instead of the two of them spending it alone, trying to distract her daughter with gifts and friends and games so she didn’t dwell too much on the fact that her father would never be at another one of her birthday parties.

“It’s about time you got here.”

“Yeah, sorry, I’m terrible at gift wrapping so I stopped by my aunt’s place so she could make it look pretty for me,” Jas patted the top of the gift and sent Sam a grateful smile as she took the bottle of water he handed to her.

“Uh-huh,” he hummed, peering at the gift tag. “What’d we get her?”

Jas blinked. “We?”

“Me, you, and Bucky.”

“I’m sorry, was this supposed to be from all of us?” Jas’ brow furrowed in confusion. “Because I’m pretty sure I’m the one who hauled my ass all over New York looking for the perfect present for baby Stark, and I don’t recall you or Bucky giving me any money for it.”

Sam groaned loudly. “Come on, Jas. I’ve been busy. I’ve been on a mission.”

“Yes, I know,” Jas nodded her head. “I was with you. I still made time to go shopping for a six year old’s birthday party. You’re terrible! Bucky didn’t get her anything, either?”

“It’s Bucky,” Sam shrugged his shoulders as though that was enough of an explanation and Jas rolled her eyes, lifting her hand to wave at Pepper, who wiggled her fingers in return before rushing back inside the cabin.

“Jasmine!”

Jas turned at the sound of her voice, grinning when she saw Morgan running towards her and crouching down just in time to catch the little girl as she flung herself forwards. “Hey birthday girl! Are you having a good day? Your mom’s done a lot, huh?”

“There are so many cupcakes,” Morgan’s eyes went wide. “Too many to even count! I tried. Did you bring me a present?” she asked curiously.

“I did!” Jas laughed, turning around just in time to see Sam inconspicuously adding his own name to the bottom of the gift tag. “It’s from Sam, too, and Bucky. But you’re not allowed to open it until your mom says so, okay? I think we’re doing gifts later.”

“I know,” Morgan sighed. “She let me open one, though! Well…” she paused thoughtfully. “Clint snuck it to me and told me to open it before anyone saw. He got me a bow and arrow set and Lila is going to teach me how to use it, and Bruce got me a chemistry set so I can learn how to help him in his lab and stuff like my daddy did, and- did you know Bucky can pick me and Nate up with only one arm?”

“He can, huh?” Jas raised her eyebrows. “That’s awesome! Sounds like you’re having a great day, kiddo.”

“Yeah,” she paused again, biting down on her lip. “I’m going to go back to play with Nate, now. Bye Jasmine, bye Sam! Thank you for coming!” she called, sending a wave over her shoulder as she took off running towards the other kids.

“Good thing she got her manners from her mom,” Sam snorted.

“Hmm,” Jas hummed, a soft smile on her face. “Don’t think I didn’t see you adding your name on the gift tag. You add Bucky’s, too? You better had or he’ll feel like shit for not getting her anything. Where is he, by the way?”

“Sitting down by the kids with Steve.”

Jas almost choked on the sip of water she’d just taken and Sam slapped her hard on the back. “Steve?” she squealed, coughing and wiping at her mouth. “Steve, Steve? Steve Rogers, Steve?”

“You know another Steve who’d be here?” Sam asked with raised eyebrows.

“Steve is here and you give me a poxy bottle of water? Dammit, Sam! I need something stronger,” she groaned softly, screwing the lid back on to her water and, spotting the cooler sitting on the grass by the corner of the cabin, she made her way over to it and reached for a beer at the exact same time someone else did. Looking up as her hand connected with someone else’s, she mer a pair of familiar blue eyes and couldn’t stop herself from grinning. “Hey, Buck! I hear you’ve been keeping Morgan and Nate entertained with your impressive strength,” she raised an eyebrow, unscrewing the cap off her beer and taking a long sip. “Have you been here long?” she asked, but Bucky didn’t reply.

Instead, he grabbed two bottles out of the cooler and straightened up, looking between Jas and Sam before sending her a tight smile and turning to walk back in the direction he’d come from, disappearing around the side of the cabin. Jas turned to Sam in bewilderment.

“What was that about?” she asked, but Sam avoided her gaze as he lifted his bottle to his lips. “Sam? He’s been ignoring me for days. What’s wrong with him, did I do something? I know you know something.”

Sighing, Sam ran a hand over his face. “Look, I don’t wanna get involved in whatever it is the two of you have got going on-”

“What?” Jas interrupted. “There’s nothing going on. What are you talking about?”

“Awfully quick on the defence there, James,” Sam smirked. “...I told him I wouldn’t say anything, and I’m not going to, but do you really not know what you did?” he asked, rolling his eyes when Jas shook her head. “Think back a bit. Day before we flew home, you were talking to your auntie. About Steve. About how they could never really replace Captain America, because he was irreplaceable.”

“Yeah…?” Jas trailer off in confusion. “But, I’m right. They can’t? They tried, and look how well it worked out. They’ll never find anyone like Steve.”

“They’ll never find anyone like Steve, or you’ll never find anyone like Steve?” Sam questioned, smirking when Jas’ face paled slightly.

“That- that’s what he- is that what Bucky thinks I meant?”

“Uh-huh.”

“That is not what I meant.”

“I know.”

“And- did you tell Bucky that isn’t what I meant?”

“I tried,” Sam shrugged. “S’not me he needs to hear it from. I’m not the one he’s got a thing for.”

“Shut up, he does not have a thing for me,” Jas grumbled, shoving at Sam’s face and feeling her cheeks heat up as he cackled beside her. “Sam!”

“What? You’re both too good at avoiding what’s been happening between you for months now and I, for one, am sick of it,” Sam pointed at himself. “I’m the one who has to sit in planes and in cramped apartments and shit with the pair of you and honestly? I’m done. I’m tired of it. We’re at a kids birthday party and the sexual tension between the pair of you is so unhealthy-”

“Sam!” Jas repeated, shoving at him again. “We don’t- that is not- there is none of that tension between us.”

Sam scoffed. “Don’t act like you don’t want Barnes to bend you over and-”

“SAM!” Jas shrieked, darting forwards and covering his mouth with her hand, her whole face turning red when she saw the looks Clint, Pepper, and Laura were throwing her. “Jesus, I- okay. Alright. So what if I do? He’s never made a move, has he? So this whole thing is probably just all in your head.”

“If you’re waiting for him to make the first move then you’re gonna be waiting a hell of a long time, baby. He thinks you’re still hung up on Cap and he’s also a 106 year old emotionally constipated ex-assassin. You’re gonna have to be the one who moves in first, or it’s never gonna happen,” Sam told her gently, reaching forwards and taking her drink out of her hand. “You can start by telling him he got it wrong when you said Steve was irreplaceable. Maybe drop in a little ‘Sam was right and you should listen to him more’, maybe make my life a little easier in future.”

Jas paused, chewing on her bottom lip as nerves filled her stomach. This was not how she had envisioned today going. She’d been expecting a lot of laughs, maybe some tears because she hadn’t been out here since Tony’s funeral, good food and lots of drinks, and now she was seriously contemplating dragging Bucky - her best friend - away from everyone so she could apologise for a misunderstanding that had left him brooding for the last five days. She moaned, pulling her sunglasses off her head and running a hand through her hair.

“I can’t just go talk to him,” she whispered. “He’s… He‘s with Steve. I haven’t seen Steve since… everything. It’s rude if I just go and drag Bucky away from an old man-”

“Either you drag him away or I do. I’ll come with you, I’ll keep Steve occupied and you go talk to Bucky. I am literally being your wingman.”

“Living up to your name.”

“Shut the hell up and get your annoying ass over to your equally annoying boyfriend,” Sam snorted, turning her round and pushing her towards where he knew Bucky and Steve were sitting together. Jas let out a squeak and reached behind her to swat his hands away, laughed as she turned the corner and saw Bucky sat beside Steve on a bench in the shade, watching Morgan run around with some of her friends.

Steve spotted her first and he sent a small, unsure wave. Jas smiled softly in reply and tucked her hair behind her ears, her sunglasses perched atop her head again as she came to a stop in front of them.

“Uhm, hi. Bucky, can I talk to you for a second?”

He looked up, squinting against the sunlight. “Sure.”

“Uh,” Jas glanced at Steve. “In private, maybe?”

Bucky shook his head. “I’m just in the middle of talking to Steve.”

“Oh, I don’t mind, Buck,” Steve looked between the two of them, a somewhat knowing look on his face. “You should go with Jas.”

“But-”

“I’ll sit with Gramps, don’t worry about it man,” Sam clapped Steve on the shoulder, not-so-subtly nudging Bucky out of his seat and forcing him to stand up. Huffing, Bucky placed his beer down on the grass and gestured towards the cabin. Jas nodded her head and followed after him, turning to shoot a glare in Sam’s direction when he called a quick “good luck!” after them.

Following Bucky inside, Jas glanced around the cabin, her eyes lingering on the picture above the fireplace, a selfie that Tony has clearly taken of himself, Pepper, and Morgan. Clearing her throat, Jas blinked rapidly as she tried to keep any tears from falling and ignored the way Bucky was watching her.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, you know, it’s just…” she waved a hand towards the picture and Bucky followed her gaze, frowning as he nodded his head.

“We don’t have to stay in here,” he told her. “We can- come on,” he pointed towards the kitchen and Jas trailed after him, coming to a stop by the breakfast bar as Bucky against the worktop opposite her, his arms crossed over his chest. “So uh, you wanna talk?”

“Yeah, I- listen, I didn’t- what I said, about Steve being irreplaceable?” Jas began meekly, and Bucky screwed his eyes shut as he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘I’m gonna kill Wilson’ under his breath. “I think you took it the wrong way.”

“Jasmine, it’s- I- it doesn’t matter-”

“No it does!” she insisted quickly. “It does matter, Buck, because I didn’t mean it the way you think I mean it, and I don’t want you to think that I don’t- I didn’t mean that you’re not…” she paused, trailing off nervously. “You know you’re important to me, right? And I guess I don’t want you to think that there isn’t room in you for life because of my past with Steve, because that’s not what I meant.”

Bucky’s whole face was screwed up, his expression something Jas couldn’t decipher and she almost groaned when she realised he was obviously annoyed by something she had just said.

“You think I want to be a replacement?” Bucky asked carefully. “You think I want to take Steve’s place in your life?”

“No! I mean, I… I don’t know?” Jas replied meekly. “Maybe? I thought you were-”

“I want my own place in your life, Jasmine,” he cut in. “I don’t have any intention of being a replacement for anyone, especially not Steve. I know I could never replace him,” he gestured towards the kitchen window, where they could see Steve and Sam both sat outside of. The two men quickly looked away and Bucky rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose at his friends making it painfully obvious they were listening in. “I see Steve never learned how to be subtle in his old age.”

“Nope,” Jas bit back a smirk and Bucky sighed, grabbing hold of her arm and leading her away from the window. “Look, I thought maybe we - you and I - I thought that maybe there was something happening? That there was something here between us. Am I wrong?” he asked cautiously. “Tell me if I’m wrong and I’ll stop. I can just be your friend, I don’t need or expect anything else from you, not even your friendship if that’s something you don’t want-”

“…Bucky-”

“I want to be with you, Jasmine,” he admitted, his voice low and his cheeks a little bit pink. “I do. I have for a really long time. And if you say that you wanna be with me too, then great! I can take you out on dates, we can get to know each other beyond friendship. But if you don’t? That’s okay, too. Whatever you decide. I just need to know where I stand,” Bucky kept his gaze on her, his heart thumping so loudly in his chest he was sure Jas would be able to hear it. When she didn’t say anything, his stomach sank and he frowned. “Okay, that’s fine, we can forget that I said anything and-”

“No, wait!” Jas gasped, reaching out and grabbing his arm as he began to turn away from her. She tugged him back towards her, standing on her toes and quickly pressing her lips to his. It was a quick kiss, over in a few seconds, and Bucky had barely had time to respond to it before Jas was dropped back down on her toes and clearing her throat awkwardly, her face red. “Sorry, I… I was processing. I’d really like to go on dates with you, Bucky.”

He grinned. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “Good. That’s… That‘s good. I’d like that.”

“Bucky.”

“Yeah?”

“You gonna kiss me or am I gonna be the one doing all the heavy lifting in this relationship?” Jas raised an eyebrow and Bucky chuckled, slipping an arm around her and pulling her towards him. He leaned in closer to her, before freezing and looking at her with a furrowed brow. “What is it, Barnes? Did you change your mind already?”

“You don’t still have feelings for Steve, do you?”

“No!” Jas pulled a face. “Bucky. He’s old. Like really old.”

“So am I!”

“Yeah but he looks old.”

“Wow, never had you down for the shallow type, Jasmine.”

She groaned. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

“Okay,” Bucky hummed, finally closing the gap between them and doing as she asked.

Outside, Sam beamed as he peered through the window before he held his hand out to Steve, who sighed and begrudgingly shoved $20 into his waiting palm.

“Don’t think I didn’t see you talking to her, Sam,” Steve grumbled. “You hustled an old man.”

“Yeah,” Sam smiled widely, stuffing the money into the pocket of his jeans. “I did.”

taglist: @sgtbuckyybarnes @mer-writes @foxesandmagic @ohmansebastianstan @chlobenet @jewelswrites-ish @lukespatterson @ocappreciationtag @marveloc-hq (let me know if you want to be added/removed)

[mugiw4ra]

Yours and Mine.

The Joker doesn't take kindly to those who disobey him. You're his queen, and he expects much, much better of you. 

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, BDSM, bondage, sub/dom relationship, female reader.

6k+ words // AO3

Long story short (heh), this is basically the Doffy x Reader fic I've always wanted to read, so I took the bull by the horns and wrote it instead. I'd be down to write a few follow-up chapters, maybe bring Law into the mix. I really love this dynamic of Doflamingo being Doflamingo and having the brattiest Queen under his wing. I loved writing this and yes, it's a bit long, but I promise it pays off! xxx 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The warm sun kissed your skin as you strode through the royal gardens. As common with your previous visits to the King of Dressrosa, there appeared to be fewer staff attending the castle the closer you reached the front gates. You couldn’t even sense the presence of Doffy’s makeshift family, and your observation haki almost never failed you. Not having to look at Trebol and the annoyance of the rest of his crew was a relief to say the least. The black longcoat you wore to preserve your decency billowed behind you, and your velvet pink stilettos clicked on the brick pavement with every step you took. You were a queen coming home to claim your king as a prize for your spoils of war, and damn if you didn’t look the part. While he wasn’t a faithful partner, you were seen among his allies as the only weakness he’d ever been clumsy enough to expose. You were invaluable to him, and the respect he gave you may have been the only dead giveaway. 

The guards manning the towering front gates stiffened as you approached. They pulled the doors open without hesitation, and bowed as you passed. You gave them the slightest wave and fought back the smugness on your face. After years of being involved with Doflamingo, the feeling of being on top of the world was still something you hadn’t gotten quite used to. 

The courtyard was empty. The smell of roses hit your nostrils before you were able to take in the rest of your surroundings and it felt like a sigh of relief. It had been far too long since you’d visited this beautiful kingdom. A bubbling fountain sat idly in the center, and if you didn’t have an impatient warlord waiting in the next room you could have spent the entire afternoon right there. The entire castle was magical, but this was your favorite spot. It was so serene, and the warmth this place held was such a stark contrast against the power that loomed deeper within the stone walls. As you neared the halls connecting to the throne room, your stomach began to somersault in anticipation. You hadn’t seen Doflamingo in months, and if his family were nowhere to be seen, he had only one thing in mind for your arrival. He could never be bothered to give you a proper greeting, but you didn’t need one. It meant more to you to keep him waiting, the anticipation leading up to something he could never get tired of. Your heeled footsteps echoed through the halls. There were no guards to open doors for you this time, but the grand throne room doors opened regardless. You passed through the egress without changing pace. 

At the end of the long room sat the man in pink on his majesty’s throne. The cathedral ceiling and tall windows illuminated him, and you smirked as he looked you up and down without saying a word. You shrugged the jacket to the crook of your arms to reveal bare shoulders, exposing a skin tight strapless black dress that just barely covered your assets. Doffy sat with one leg slung over the arm of his elaborate chair and sunglasses hung low on his nose. A grin spread across his cheeks, and a faint blush teased at yours. You kept his eyes on his as you drew closer, not losing your composure. 

“Little flower,” he growled, the deepness in his voice never failing to send shivers up your spine. You’d be lying if you denied the warmth in your center hadn’t already begun to pool. 

”You’ve been absent for far too long.” 

“I hate to keep you waiting,” You purred. “Your enemies are getting pesky. If you keep pissing them off the way you do, you’ll have to do a bit more than wait if you want me back sooner.”

The back-handed sass was not warmly welcomed. 

“Oh, really? Have you weakened, little one? You don’t think you’re up for the simple task of keeping my kingdom peaceful anymore?” His voice began to rise, and while he was obviously toying with you, you began to feel smaller and smaller. 

You scoffed at him, and Doflmaingo’s grin grew wider as you drew closer. You were eye level with his bare chest now, just nearing the foot of his throne. 

“And what would you do with me then, captain?” Your voice was low and seductive. You tread these waters carefully. “Drown me? Slice me in two? Throw me off the island and hunt me down?” You crawled onto his lap slowly, with your legs on either side of his waist, forcing his leg to come down and sit properly. You could already feel the bulge in his skin-tight pants as his pink feathered jacket brushed kisses on your bare thighs. He swiftly pulled the coat off your back and let it fall to the floor. You took his hand and formed a makeshift gun with his fingers, holding the barrel under your chin to look up at him helplessly. “Shoot me down?”

 His booming voice quieted, and you could feel the steady breaths of the monster in front of you rise and fall in his chest. The muscles in his stomach rippled as he moved against you. 

“Stop giving me reasons.”

He snatched your wrist that touched his hand and held it above your head, rendering your entire right half useless.  His strength was unfathomable and struggling against it, despite your own power, was useless. 

“So confident,” He spoke sternly. “So gutsy. All this time, and that fire in you still burns. What do we make of that? How do we punish one that refuses to behave?”

Doflamingo’s grin was inches from your lips and you ground down onto him, stifling a whimper. After so long, this was quickly becoming all too much. His power, his voice ever teasing and taunting you, his strong hands binding you and holding you back. His length sitting directly between your legs growing with every move you made. 

His eyes travelled the length of your body. Doflamingo released your arm and with one swift motion, stood and slung you over his shoulder. One hand gripped your now exposed ass firmly while he made the route to his king’s quarters. 

You were comfortable enough with him to giggle as you settled into place on his back. 

“I thought I kept you waiting!” You taunted, “We have to go somewhere more comfortable? Really?”

His vice grip on you relaxed a bit, enough for him to turn and glance at you.

“I have something special planned for my disobedient queen. Impatient? Really?” A chuckle escaped his lips. 

After making your way through his library, you ended up in the bedroom you shared. Yes, you had your own wing of the castle but he liked your company more than he often cared to admit. He would summon you here at times, only to sip wine and sit in his arms while he read aloud and mused at the latest world news. You would sit and listen, give in to his desires, and enjoy having him all to yourself. You were, after all, more than happy to be at his whim. 

The large room had more floor to ceiling windows along with beautiful opened french doors that connected to a balcony. White curtains fluttered in the breeze that breathed life into the space.  The bed was the centerpiece of the room, one that was truly fit for a king. Where plush pillows and fluffy duvets once sat were now silk sheets and two or three ordinary pillows. The simple bed made a clear statement: nothing was going to get in the way. 

Doflamingo quite literally threw you onto the mattress, and with your hair haphazardly falling in your face, you kicked off your no longer needed heels. You smiled up at him, admiring his features that you missed as he unbuckled the belt on his jeans. 

“Where were we? Ah, yes,” he hissed. “Apparently you’ve forgotten how little I tolerate sass. That’s something we’re going to have to fix.”

His gaze turned cold as he folded the belt in two and pulled a chair from the nearby table. Out of thin air, his silky white strings appeared at your wrists and tugged them together in front of you to form a perfect, unbreakable knot. 

“Why you become such a little brat when you come back to me is curious.” Your wrists pulled forward, forcibly yanking you upright to sit up straight at the edge of the bed. “It’s almost as though you enjoy this.”

You peered over at him while he slid off his feathered coat, expertly hanging it on the back of the chair. Admiring every inch of the tanned skin you longed for, the warmth between your legs grew stronger and spread throughout your lower half. You were at his mercy, and you’d eat up every second of it. You arched your back and let your bound wrists fall between your legs. The scant dress nearly falling off of you slid further down your chest as you sat up, just barely revealing more of your chest. Not paying you much mind, Doffy found his place in the chair.

“I like pushing your buttons.” You smiled mischievously, “I like that I’m afraid of you and how much that makes me want you. You’re dangerous, and the fact you haven’t killed me yet means I get to keep coming back to this.” You gestured vaguely with your now useless hands. 

This earned you yet another tug at the wrists, now pulling you up and towards him without hesitation. Doffy gazed up at you, with a vile look of hunger smeared across his face. 

“If I killed you, I wouldn’t get to do this to you. I wouldn’t get to see your adorable little ass walk into my castle like you own the place, I wouldn’t get to see you beg, and I wouldn’t get to fuck you into submission because of it. You belong to me, and you shouldn’t take that lightly.” 

You moaned at his words and with a hot breath passing your lips, he pulled you forward yet again to bend you over his knee. He tilted his head down to speak low and clear into your ear.

“Now, why am I punishing you, little flower?” 

A hand gently pushed your dress up around your waist to reveal pink lace, a sight that did not go unnoticed by the man looming over you. He took a moment to toy with your lingerie, grabbing at your ass and letting his fingers just barely brush between your legs. You quivered at his touch. 

“I kept you waiting.” You smirked. 

Until a strong hand ferociously met your behind. The power behind the strike jolted you forward, and you cried out in both surprise and pain. The chair shifted beneath you. You were sure it was going to leave a bruise. 

“Wrong. Try again.” He massaged the angry skin with care, letting your tense muscles relax. 

“I disrespected you.” You sighed against his thigh, your breath now hot and heavy as you waited in anticipation for another blow. 

“I have never questioned your respect for me. I have never doubted your loyalty.” The look of confusion was torn for your face as quickly as your lace panties were ripped off of you. He warms you up this time, slowly rubbing the spot on your ass before giving another devastating blow to your other cheek. You cried out again, more of a moan this time. He was enjoying this. You could feel him straining against his pants underneath you. You whimpered at his touch. “Again.”

“I gave you attitude. I was rude and disobedient, and for that I’m sorry.” Your voice was rough and shaky, your entire lower half trembling from sizzling pain and arousal. 

“Finally. You’re supposed to be smart, my queen. But how do I know you’re truly sorry?” He teased. Another finger brushed against the length of your slit. “How do I know you won’t come home to me again and give me another headache?”

You stifled another moan. His touch felt like fire and all you wanted was more. You’d waited long enough. 

“You’re already so wet for me. You expect me to do something about it when you act the way you do?” The binds around your wrists tightened as if to drive his point home. “You think I’m done teaching you this lesson?” You groaned as he prodded at your center once more. “I’m going to spank you again, much harder, and we’re not going to repeat this again. Do you hear me?”

You nodded. 

Strings appeared again in front of your face this time, wrapping around your head to form a makeshift gag. You were able to bite down, and were grateful. It wasn’t out of restraint this time, but out of care. This was going to hurt. 

“I think we’ll do three. Bare, with the belt, and you’d be wise not to stifle whatever noise I rile out of you.” He lowered to your ear once more. 

“If you need a break, kick me.” He gestured his foot behind yours. 

You nodded once more in recognition. 

Doflamingo let his belt graze against your ass carefully, allowing you to feel the cold leather grace your skin. Shivers ran through every limb as you braced what was to come. He wound his hand back, and let the belt fall into you with incredible force. The smack echoed in the giant room. You yelped in pain and finished with a moan as you bit your restraint. You felt his other hand reach behind you to play with your now dripping pussy. 

“Good girl.” He purred. A finger dipped inside you. “Don’t hold back.”

The sinful noises escaping your mouth at this point could not be stopped if you tried. You were aching for him. He kissed the reddened mark the belt had left and wound up again, pushing the finger teasing you even further. Drool was pooling at the corners of your mouth and false tears in the corners of your eyes. The next spank was harder than the last, and your ass was almost numb from the pain. You could already feel the welts beginning to rise. You cried out in desperation, pushing your hips back to grind against the finger inside you. 

“You’re ready for me, aren’t you?”  

You groaned, whipping your head around to glare at him. He looked you dead in the eyes, and pulled his finger out to draw circles around your bundle of nerves. 

You nearly lost it. 

“One more, dear. One more.” You moaned again, he was fully erect underneath you and you couldn’t understand how he was still comfortable. Your want, surpassed by need, now had evolved into unadulterated hunger. You were putty in his hands and if it meant him fucking you into oblivion, you would obey his every desire. 

With an act of finality, the belt tarnished your sensitive skin one last time. You bit down on the strings, hard. Doffy’s hand left your center, and if it hadn’t you would have unraveled then and there. His hands immediately made their way back to your ass, massaging you deeply and with care. The strings around your mouth and wrists vanished, and he pulled you up to stand with him. You were dripping down your thighs, your lips red and full from ache. He leaned your head up towards his, and pulled you in with longing. His kiss was warm and welcome. 

“That’s my girl.” He half moaned against your lips as his tongue wound against yours. Your hands dipped below the waist of his bottoms and he allowed you to slide them down, freeing his member from the former constraints. His hands were all over you. Travelling the length of your arms, lingering at your now bruised wrists. He groped at your hips and pulled you closer to him. You let your fingers trail his impressive length. The dripping precum slicked your hands as you gently gripped the rest of him. He sighed into your collar and took your jaw in his hand. He tilted your head out of the way as he sucked and bit at your neck, leaving a pattern of bruises and marks along the way. His teeth grazed you a bit harder before he spoke, 

“Undress.”  he commanded. His gravelly tone against your sensitive skin sent fire through you. You stepped away, and lifted an eyebrow at him. 

While he was exploring the curves of your figure he’d already unzipped the backing of your dress. You slowly and carefully pulled the garment from your torso to reveal a bare chest. It had been snug enough to make your breasts bounce when they were set free. As you pushed it down your hips, Doffy settled on the bed. He rested on his elbows, and had already stripped his lower half. His caramel skin glistened in the small peeks of sunlight that shone into the room. He was a beautiful, dangerous creature. He felt you belonged to him, but he was unfortunate not to realize that he was very much yours in the same regard. 

You kicked the dress away from your ankles and made your way over to where Doflamingo had relaxed. You watched as his eyes drank you up from head to toe. He sat up to pull your waist closer. 

“I had a reward for you.” A soft chuckle escaped him. “But you just have to be full of surprises.”

“My love,” You smiled down at him adoringly. “would you even want me around if I wasn’t?”

Doffy planted kisses across the curves of your hips, releasing your abdomen to knead at your ass. You instinctively thrust forward. Your decency was replaced by greed and desire, trying to get his lips closer to the part between your legs. The haze from being so close to climax and having it stripped away from you left your body in complete control. 

“I’d want you.” His tongue lingered just below your belly button. You gasped, and he continued. “Just as much as I do now. I chose you not because you’re unpredictable,” He kissed a trail down and allowed his expert tongue to take entire length of your aching pussy. “But because your fire makes you fight me at every turn.” Expletives crossed your lips and you tangled your fingers in his golden locks. He smirked up at you. “Because you melt in my hands. Because you lose that tenacity when you remember who you answer to.” 

“Dof-” 

You couldn’t finish his name before a whimper was released first. Doflamingo buried his lips in your folds, his lips sucking as he drew circles around your clit. You closed your eyes and rested into him. A hand left your ass as you did so. He drug his nails up the front of your thigh before teasing your entrance with his middle finger. You trembled at his ministrations. You were already so close, and the thought of him filling you with every inch of his girth had you moaning shamelessly. He pushed deeper inside of you, adding another finger and curling them as his tongue made quick work of you. His tongue flicked over your sensitive bud with purpose. He let just his tip tease you before flattening to lap at the entirety of your swollen core. 

You cried out as the overwhelming pleasure washed over you. His digits brushed against your walls just slightly faster as you rode out the peak. You had already been so close, that this was beyond enough to bring you over the edge. The electricity in your veins spiked and the stimulation on your clit was already becoming too much. After being deprived of his touch for so long, the release he gave you was blinding. You felt something brush against your arm, under your breasts, and again across your back. You opened your eyes just in time to see Doflamingo’s threads leaving his fingertips against the small of your back, and entangling thick knots around your torso and arms. You recognized the pattern, but couldn’t quite remember the name. He smiled up at you. 

“Your turn.” He purred. He removed his fingers from you, and gently massaged your now puffy lips. The ropes that had formed around your upper half tightened in an instant to bind your arms to your back. You couldn’t move, and you felt a sudden pressure hit your shoulders. It was as if an invisible person was pushing you down towards the floor. You didn’t even try to fight it, and you allowed Doffy’s binds to bring you to your knees. Doflamingo sat up straight on the satin linens, stroking his impressive length with intent, but eyes were focused only on you. He looked down at you with a sneer and brought his tip just inches away from your lips. You opened your mouth just slightly, a tiny “o” beckoning him to you. You looked up at him with the biggest doe eyes you could muster, and you knew fully well how mad it drove him. 

You let your chest fall forward and your nipples brushed against your restraints. Your eyes left Doffy’s to lick his cock from base to tip. A hand began to rest on the back of your head and with a combination of your current position and the binds holding you back, the heat in your center resurfaced. You teased his tip playfully, dancing kisses across it before licking its circumference. Doflamingo’s abs stiffened, which directed you to slowly take his length, inch by inch,  until it grazed the back of your throat. A little over halfway, you knew straight away it wouldn’t be enough for him. You continued regardless and began taking long strokes. You hollowed your cheeks and just before you let him leave your mouth, you swirled your tongue around his tip. You swiftly took him as deep as you could once more. Finally, this earned you a sinful groan from your partner. His head fell back as he immersed himself in the white heat you began to burn at his core. You continued, with Doffy holding his cock poised perfectly to your lips. The warm, wet stimulation had him gripping your hair and manipulating your head up and down his shaft. He began pushing you to go deeper. The pain from your hair being pulled and him using you for raw pleasure had you moaning against him. Your vibrations against his throbbing member drove him wild. Your eyes began to water and you lapped your tongue around his tip at every chance he gave you. He forcibly brought your head lower and pushed you to take all of him at once. He fucked the back of your throat and let out a guttural moan. You fought his hand that now had a vice grip on your hair, but it was to no avail. His thrusts were deep and strong. Your eyes watered and where moans once filled the air was now silence, save for the wet sound of your saliva mixed with precum pooling in the corners of your mouth and dripping down your chin as he brought you up and down. 

You knew he was close. He was impossibly hard and had lost himself in desire. Doffy’s hold on your hair did not weaken as he pulled your mouth off his throbbing erection. You gasped for air while he allowed you a moment of composure. Composed, however, you were not. Drool was falling from your lips and you looked up at him desperately. You felt at this point that he could do whatever he wanted with you, and you would eat up every second of it. This moment and chemistry was what kept you coming back for more. You couldn’t imagine another human being able to give you this same feeling, whatever it was. 

“Is this,” you huffed, “the grand plan?” You looked up at him with raised eyebrows and a cheeky grin, half proud of yourself that you hadn’t just choked on his cock, but also curious as to how far you could push him. Doflamingo furrowed his brow and a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. 

He yanked your head back to look up at him. 

And then slapped you across the face. 

Not full strength, nor enough to tarnish your beauty, but hard enough to make a point. He gripped your chin and laughed. He stooped down to lock eyes with you when you moaned. 

“You’re going to regret that, darling.” 

The threads wound around you began to snake down your legs, taking hold of your thighs. You gasped aloud when altogether they pulled to bring you standing. Doflamingo rose off the bed with you, and gently brushed the back of his hand against the cheek he had smacked. He took a moment to take in your beauty. Your cheeks were flushed, your lips pink and full. Lust in your eyes burned flames that brightened every expression you made. He gazed at you with adoration, and you could see the hunger in his stare behind the pink shades he donned. He was remarkable and terrifying and beautiful. He left you breathless. 

After what was barely a moment, a strong hand took hold of the knot on your back and tossed you face down onto the bed. Your face hit the soft mattress and before you could get your bearings, his hands found your waist and pulled your lower half up. You were bent over and fully on display for the man about to completely ruin you. You looked over your shoulder back at him as Doffy lined himself up to your entrance. You felt his tip slide up and down your slit, whimpering when he passed over your stimulated bundle of nerves. He allowed himself to just barely dip inside you, then back out and over your clit once more. With impressive restraint he continued this game as you wriggled against your restraints underneath him. 

You were a whining, whimpering mess. Your hair falling into your mouth as Doflamingo’s name escaped your lips. 

“Tell me, y/n. Tell me what you want.” 

“You…” You croaked, his hands gripping your sides when you tried to push him deeper. “All of you.”

“And why should I give such a petulant brat what you want, when you want it?” 

“Doffy…” You moaned when he dipped into your folds once more. “Please.”

“There’s the manners I taught you.” The bastard laughed. “Say it again for me, dear. Convince me.”

“Please, Doffy.” He deprived you of touch once more. “Please fuck me. Please let me make you cum.”

He pressed his entire length into you without pause or hesitation. You were dripping wet from your previous climax and his teasing that he bottomed out inside you with ease. You were full, and with every movement he made you could feel him stretching your walls to compensate for his impossible girth. You yelped, but every noise you made was muffled in the sheets he fucked you into. You had a complete lack of control and he was taking advantage of it. The grip in which he held onto you would without a doubt leave beautiful finger-shaped bruises by tomorrow. 

“You want to make me cum?” He snarled. “You first.”

Your moans filled the room, next to his breathy grunts that slipped out nearly every time you tightened around him. You knew you wouldn’t last like this. He took long, steady strokes only to slam you back down into the bed. The high he gave you was incredible. The lust you shared and the need you had for him was immeasurable. Doflamingo took your ass in both hands, spreading your swollen cheeks wide to watch his cock glide in and out of you. You took him expertly, and he admired your reddened and dripping lips. His thumb inched closer to your other hole only to tease you further. 

“This is how I like you.” Doflamingo slowed his pace, drawing circles with his thumb around your other entrance. You shivered at his touch and heat began to spread throughout your chest. “You think you’re so big, but look at you.”  He spat down onto you and slowly pushed inside, knuckle deep, and thrust his cock in its entirety back in at the same time. “Reduced to this.”

You clenched around him and screamed as you came undone. Your thighs shook and heat spread all throughout your body. You saw stars and gasped as he pulled your hair to bring you closer to him. 

“Yes, my dear. I want to hear you.” He growled into your ear as he fucked you mercilessly. His thumb rested inside you, all the while his powerful thrusts slapped against you. The wet sound of his cock sliding in and out of you was ever present under the expletives leaving your mouth. “Do as you wish. Make me cum.”

The binds he held you in vanished and your arms fell to your side. 

“Doffy... ” You sighed into the sheets, dragging your dripping pussy up and down his length. You bounced your ass up and down onto him, and Doflamingo moaned in relief. He slapped your abused ass playfully. You moaned at his touch. 

You pressed your hands against the mattress to test how much strength you had left. You carefully pushed your chest up and off the sheets and let his length fall out of you, turning around to face him. 

“Will you lay down for me?” You piqued his interest, and he raised an eyebrow as you turned yourself to face him. “Can I ride you?”

Doffy leaned down to press a kiss onto you. A bite tugged at your lower lip as he pulled away. When your eyes opened, you took in the sight before you. His rippling muscles were glistening with sweat. His throbbing member was deep red at the tip and bobbing up and down, clearly begging for release. 

“Please?” You looked up at him, and brought your fingers down to play with yourself as he considered. You looked like a goddess before him, and he would have been hard pressed to deny your desires. You sunk your fingertips into your wet folds and kept his gaze. 

“You make it impossible to say no.” He sighed against your lips. 

You pressed your clean fingertips against his chest to push him into laying on his back. His head landed softly on a pillow and he looked up at you curiously. Your eyes took him in once more before you crawled over to him. You let your hands travel down his chest and thighs, indulging yourself after being constrained for so long. You took his cock in your mouth with reckless abandon, earning you a soft moan from your partner. You had made him incredibly sensitive, and you felt him get harder in your mouth as you licked your essence from him. You rose and positioned your legs on either side of his hips. Doffy’s hands fondled your breasts and tugged at your nipples. You smiled softly as you lined yourself up with him. 

Slowly and with care, you lowered yourself onto him. You took his entire length, adjusting back to his size and settled for a moment with him deep inside you. You let out a slow sigh, and felt a sharp pinch at your chest. Doffy had clamped your nipples tight between his fingers, and thrust up, further into you. You ground into his actions, swirling your hips onto the man below you. He released your chest and brought a strong arm up to grip your throat. 

“Yes…” Doffy purred as he glared up at you. “Don’t disappoint me.”

You began with slow, tentative motions. You allowed his cock to glide up, almost all the way out until you shot back down. The blonde hairs on his lower stomach teased at your clit with every stroke. He held your neck stronger at every movement you made, making your voice crack into your moans. His breaths were heavy and veins were peeking at his temple. He wasn’t going to make it much longer. You quickened your pace and felt the muscles in his lower body tense at your ministrations. Doffy released your throat, and the noises he held back from you sung from your lips. He gripped your hips as they pushed further onto him, and Doflamingo sat up to hold you close. His arm reached around your back and gained a strong hold on your shoulder. The other wrapped around your lower back and he growled into your neck. He bit down hard, and thrust up into you. He continued to draw sinful noises out of you and the heat between your legs burned stronger. You rode him harder, faster. Chasing another climax that was building at your center. You lost control, every movement you made brought you closer and closer. You couldn’t stop, and his strokes against your inner walls pushed you further. You felt him harden within you, and you thrust him as deep as you could muster. He hit a spot in the back of you and you croaked his name. You clenched your legs around him and held him deep within you. The wave of pleasure that washed over you had you clawing at Doffy’s back as you held on for dear life. Just as you peaked, he shuddered beneath you. He let out a soft groan into your neck and fucked you with deep, long strokes. You felt his warm release and whimpered against him, already feeling light-headed. His cock slid out of you and rested on your belly, dripping with evidence of his own satisfaction. His hand on your shoulder found the back of your head and he held it with care. You shared a moment, panting and coming down from the high you had built together. Doffy’s chest and neck were red hot, and he held you close as you relaxed against him. He leaned down and kissed your cheek with the softest of lips. 

“My queen..” He spoke against you, and you met his lips with warm content, kissing him with all the gratefulness you could express with the simple gesture. 

“I missed you.” You whispered against him. He held you closer and kissed you once more. You watched a frown tug at the corners of his mouth. Doflamingo released you and you pushed back off of his lap. 

“Good. You’re staying.” 

You raised your brow at him in amusement, watching him as he rose from the bed. 

“Lonely?” You mused, joining him. You began to make your way to clean up before he grabbed your arm.

“I have an old friend coming.” He sighed and pinched his nose in frustration. “I need you here.”

“You’re worried.” You expressed your concern and turned to look up at him. Your hair tickled as it brushed against bare shoulders. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with. You’ll know when I need you to.” You rolled your eyes when he turned away to grab the bottle of wine off the table. You stiffened at his sudden seriousness. 

“I’m here.” You accepted his coldness, despite the obvious front. “I’m here to do as you wish.” 

You crossed your arms around his stomach and held the king from behind as he poured two glasses of wine.

“Whether it’s this you want,” You softly kissed the curves of the muscles on his back. “Or those who dare defy you put in their place.” You paused before releasing the embrace. “I’m yours.” 

He faced you and offered you a glass. 

“You’d be wise not to forget it.” He locked his eyes with yours and again, you felt small. The beast before you was judging his prey with a studied gaze. 

“Doflamingo.” His name rolled off your tongue and an air of confidence lifted your shoulders. “If I were going to betray you,” you sipped at the dark red in your hands, “I wouldn’t put myself in such compromising positions.” 

This earned you a chuckle from your superior. 

“I am yours.” You restated, resting your glass on the table before leaving him to regain your decency. 

He watched the swaying of your hips and your hair cascading down across your back as you exited. The pride on his face visible to no one. The swelling of his heart rose though he continued to push it down.

No, my dear. I am yours. 

His mind betrayed him.  

[shini--chan]

Okay, I've been wracking my brain to think of an ask for you because I know your writing is fire, and I don't want to waste it! If the mood strikes you, can you write a little yandere Levi in a universe of your choosing or constructing? I'm sort of interested to see how you imagine him as a yandere 😊

Thx, fam!

As I told you once before, this is the ask that almost made me forfeit my principal of answering asks chronologically. :P

So, this will be my usual mix of headcanons and Imagines if you don’t mind, since I have a lot of thoughts on this man and just don’t want to stumble into the snare of writing a full length story … yet.

I’ ll also keep this general, since the universe any Levi fic is set in just changes the nuances, and not fundamental character traits.

Also, I have to remark that it is already too late for me - I’m hip deep in academia.  

Yandere Levi Ackerman  

Captain Levi is a very orderly person, it is part of his lifestyle and how he interacts with others and himself. It is something he is really strict about and he wouldn’t tolerate anything less than perfect hygiene in a lover. To him, there is nothing less disgusting than poor body hygiene and should you start slacking off in anyway when it comes to taking care of yourself, a very fundamental aspect, then he won’t shy away from taking matters in his own hands.

You gasped as a bucket of water was frigidly emptied over head and you threw yourself out as your bed, expecting your assailant to have lunged onto you, should you have remained there.

Instead, he was standing right in front of you.

Somewhat shyly, you looked up into Levi’s pale face and sneered at the accursed object that he was holding in his hand. He sneered right back at you, the corners of his lips curled slightly upwards in disgust. A rather uncommon display of extreme emotion on his part, for being a commonly stoic man.

“Get up!”, he curtly barked to which you stiffly groaned. Sloppily, you got up, still groggy from being rudely awoken and not in the best mood because of it. The water running in rivulets down your body and made your sleep wear cling to your skin didn’t help either.

“What was that for?”, you whined, completely oblivious as to why he was being so imperious to you. What had you done to warrant such poor treatment?

“Don’t get cheeky now, little brat. You didn’t shower last night and went all sweaty to bed. You deserved what I did to you now.”

Him being orderly isn’t restricted to personal cleanliness, it is also about how disciplined a person is with themselves. Having had to live in harsh environments for his whole life, he is a firm believer in pulling yourself up by your own bootstraps. That also means that should you suffer from any mental disorder, trauma induction or not, he wouldn’t be very understanding. Not that he wouldn’t be concerned about your broken state of mind, rather he wouldn’t see how being kind and coddling you would fix it.

“You know brat, if you would stop sulking and feeling sorry for yourself, your life would start getting damn better”, he snarled at your cowered form.

Hunched over the table, you had elected to grab a beer to numb the pain that was ravaging your heart. Watching people die never became easy, especially when they were close to you.

“Just leave me alone”, you begged and raised the tankard to your mouth again. Yet before the wooden rim could touch your lips, it was shamelessly ripped away from you. Levi’s sharp grey eyes were honed on you, the fire of anger dancing in them. Just why did he have to play judge now of all times?

“No, you look like shit and you’re talking shit. Moping around wouldn’t make anything better you idiot. You need to your act together, not get piss drunk.” 

Furthermore, he needs to be in control. As soon as he feels like his vice-like grasp over reality is slipping, he does what all people do that are losing their power – he scrambles to re-attain it. And he doesn’t hesitate to utilize violence. On top of that he sees respect given, as power given, so he demands the piety that his position ought to give him.  It doesn’t matter that you’re his lover, if anything you ought to give him his due. Rows with him are literally the worst – be prepared to be swept of your feet! 

Roughly, you were slammed against the wall in a manner that knocked the wind out of your lungs with a crude sound. It was followed by a gasp as your ears rang from your skull having banged against the stone and your muscles and bones ached.

“What did you just say?”, Levi snarled, a rare look of utter rage on his handsome face. You knew it was a rhetorical question, he had heard you the first time around. But you were too steep in your own anger to not push your luck.

“Don’t be like that, darling”, you spat the last word as if it were poison in your mouth. Warranted actually, since you had been coerced and tricked into this relationship. “I said that maybe you should take a leave out of your superior’s book because all your shortcomings make you unbearable to be a runt. Somehow, I doubt that would work, though – you’ll always remain a sewer rat at heart.”

A wrong move – those handsome features contorted to something utterly ghastly.

“You know we wouldn’t have such problems if you could control that attitude of yours. And if you would show me respect”, he hissed as he pressed you further against the wall, so that you were sandwiched between stone and muscles to a painful degree. The hands grasping you by the front of your clothing didn’t help either.

Lips twisting into a snarl of your own, you countered: “Respect is supposed to be earned, Captain. I will only respect you if you respect me.” You were really insistent on digging yourself your own grave, weren’t you?

“You’re much prettier if you keep that mouth of yours shut.

“Consider the feeling to be mutual, brat. Why should I give you any respect if you won’t give me any? And remember, I’m above you, so I don’t owe you anything. You owe me the world.”

Levi also has a strict set of rules that he expects you to follow to the dot. A fair warning, however, he may change the one or the other spontaneously and not inform you of it until you’re bent over his desk. Also, it is common knowledge that he endorses corporal punishment and celebrates pain as a prim method to install discipline. He really thinks that bad behaviour can be beat out of somebody. He is also exceptionally cruel with his punishments. This can be traced back to how he was desensitized to violence at a relatively early age and revels in have people submit to him.

You had barely set foot in his study when he looked up from his paperwork and ordered you: “Come over here, and bend over the desk.”

Shocked by his harsh words, you nevertheless complied. You knew that resistance would only make matters worse. Still, as you bend over and pressed your cheek against the cool oak you asked: “What did I do wrong this time?”

Briefly, he stopped rummaging through the chest that stood by the window and glanced over his shoulder.

“Are you serious? Don’t you already know? And I though you weren’t so goddamn stupid”, he snapped.

Finally, having found what he was searching for, he turned towards you again. There was a semi-bored expression gracing his visage as he drawled: “I told you a thousand times before, pet. When you are finished with your afternoon chores you are to come directly to me. No chit-chat with somebody else, no fooling about and yet you disobey me again and again. Your ears really are just for decoration.”

You opened your mouth to protest but he carelessly cut you off: “I don’t care if they are your friends, you don’t need them. You just need me.”

Upon that you fell silent and closed your eyes in hopelessness as you waited for your punishment to commence. When do pain came after a minute of silence you dared to open your eyes and glance back.

Seeing that you were focused on him, Levi cleared his throat as if to say “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Then you remember and with a great amount of shame you bared your bottom and meekly requested: “Please Levi, my love, spank me thoroughly.”

As usual, it sickened you that he made you ask to be punished. It was his way of normalizing and justifying his abuse. And conditioning you.

A dark chuckle rumbled in his throat as he grabbed you by the nap as he pressed you against his desk. “There is a good little pet”, he whispered as leather made contact with your supple flesh. 

This man has a difficult time warming up to people. All the agony of losing those that meant the world to him repeatedly has caused him to become cold and reserved. That means that in his mind, you should view it as a privilege that you are the love of his life. Because of that, he won’t accept rejection. Also, since he hasn’t had somebody really close to him in ages, he will be very clingy and overprotective. The world has the habit of robbing him, so you won’t allow you to be stolen as well. Not to forget that he is a man of action – being passive or also relying on words to solve situations just isn’t his style. 

Your skin was on fire due to his ministrations, or rather because of the disgust they evoked. The arm around your waist that pressed you against him made you want to claw at his skin and his lips against the tender skin of your neck made you want to throttle him.

Yet you knew that it was just wishful thinking. Engaging in such protest would be futile since he was stronger and quicker than you.

“Look here Levi, I told you…”, you tried to reason with him but he just silenced your objection:

“Shush, sweetheart. Don’t ruin the moment.”

Then he resumed kissing your neck and collar bone, sometimes tugging at your skin with teeth in order to cause bruises. You tensed as his free hand snaked down your leg and hooked itself under your knee.

The captain is a military man and fairly intelligent. He knows how to deal with an enemy, how to assess their strengths and weaknesses and how to keep them contained. And also, how to best combat them and capture them. He really is the worst opponent you could meet on the battlefield.

So how to evade him? You take him off the battlefield, place him in a situation where aggression can’t help him achieve his goals. He is a military man, as said before, so he is accustomed to low context communication – words must be direct, and you must mean what you say so that they are no muck-ups. Little conversation and more orders and demands. Levi doesn’t have a silver tongue to begin with, quite the contrary actually.

That means he cares a bit for codes, since they are of use to him in his branch of expertise. But he cares little for symbolism since he has categorised that as sappy nonsense reserved for romantics. So, you have an avenue to express yourself that he won’t catch up on unless somebody explicitly told him what it meant. Consider yourself lucky, it is exactly this that will prevent you from going insane.

“Flowers? Again?”, he gruffly asked.

It made you look up from the novel you were reading to see him eyeing the tansy and peonies that you had placed in a vase on the nightstand.

You had to suppress a smirk and work to keep the self-satisfaction out of your voice as you meekly inquired: “They are there to give a bit more colour to the room. I can always put them away if you want.”

You were being obedient to him for a change and that was why he decided to allow you a few luxuries. Besides, since you were so affectionate in the past two months, why shouldn't he return it with gestures of his own.

“Keep them. I’ll just never understand why you like them so much”, he answered and then stalked over to the bathroom. Of course he would never comprehend it, with his spartan and austere tastes, just like you would never understand that the small yellow flowers meant ‘I declare war on you!’ or that the orange lilies that had been there a few days ago actually proclaimed your hatred for him.

Hopefully, he would never find out.

Intelligence doesn’t automatically mean that he is omnipotent or that he is an all-powerful overlord. It just means that he is quick to comprehend tactics and strategies and devise his own. He isn’t immune to mistakes. So, when he ropes you in, in his games, you have to play a wholly different game of your own if you want to get out. Military, remember? There are many walks of life that he is unfamiliar with, many possibilities for you to escape his clutches that he wouldn’t even account for.

Giddily, you smiled at yourself in the mirror. You barely recognized yourself, with all the paint and heavy cloth that decorated your body. Levi didn’t either, just how it was supposed to be.

You had spotted him in the audience as you had pranced about the stage, looking very disgruntled at not having you by his side or locked up in his quarters. Even you had heard the rumours of how a few days ago he had flown into a frenzy, searching high and low for something.

You were one of the few that knew it was someone and that someone was you. Knowing him as well as you did, you made the fair guess that he also wasn’t here by his own volition, rather his comrades had dragged him here in an attempt to distract him.

And you also knew that had looked everywhere he presumed you to be – in the forest, somewhere tucked away in his estate, in the taverns and at the city borders and at the docks. Just not amongst the theatre troop.

That would probably stay that way, and you could use the opportunity to escape him.  

Adding to the fact that he is bad at expressing himself like a normal human being, he is also very emotional underneath that stoic veneer. In combat situations, he has an outlet for all his pent-up emotions. Else you have to suffer his outbursts and mood swings. Nonetheless, the world isn’t a gigantic battlefield and if the right buttons are pushed, he could lose it at exactly the wrong time and place. Levi would lose badly at the game favoured in the royal courts of provoking-the-other-until-they-embarrass-themselves.

Levi was very close to unleashing his unholy rage and as a precaution, you had taken to stepping out of range. While you found the whole situation very amusing, you didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire.

“…however, since you come short on some things, I don’t expect you to understand that. Should I repeat what I said, in bitesize chunks  so that you don’t lag behind this time”, the nobleman prattled while he looked down on your “lover”.

Said man pressed through gritted teeth: “You filthy swine, go stuff all your pretty words up your ass.”

The noble emitted a fake gasp and murmured aghast: “You really are so crass. The rumours of you being a dwarf barbarian are true.”

That was the last straw for Levi. In the following minutes, a small crowd gathered to see what the commotion was all about and it ended in the guards having to restrain him. Really, it was hypocritical of the Ackerman to threaten you about causing a scene when he was the one prone to temper tantrums.

[fectless]

(This is technically in response to the post right below this one, as world building totally counts for it, right?)

Anywho, more fandom thoughts, but for BLEACH this time. I recently started rewatching the anime again for the nth time as part of my language practice (and having the Japanese subtitles on while watching it in Japanese is an experience) and reached that episode where Aizen and co. get rescued by Menos Grande after declaring their intentions to Soul Society. And then a few things hit me.

The first: Rukia says, the first time Ichigo sees her sending someone on via Soul Burial, that one neither feels hunger nor gets sick in Soul Society. We know that this is false for a few reasons.

Those who can become shinigami definitely need to eat and all souls need water which implies that they can suffer from thirst (and perhaps heat exhaustion).

Captain Ukitake is suffering from an unknown disease that makes him literally cough out his lungs. I’ve read something about it being a defect in the make up of his soul that is only not killing him because of the pact with the Soul King’s arm, but I cannot recall if this was canon or fanon (as the Blood War arc was just like that). If so, does this mean that sickness does occur in Soul Society, but so rarely as to not be mentioned? Or does it occur more in the outer districts? Why does it occur?

Hisana died from a sickness as well. Yes, it’s stated to be exhaustion, but I feel like that doesn’t make sense? Like, the flashback in the anime has her abandoning Rukia after she collapses while carrying her around. And she collapses later when she regrets this and goes to look for her sister. And then she dies.

Seriously, why does it occur? It’s weird. And it cannot be an Aizen thing as I’m pretty sure Aizen is younger than Ukitake. Is it because of what happened to the soul king? Does it have something to do with when people get sent on (like if they were close to being a hollow)? Is it because they died while sick? Is it because of their resolve?

...Do we never see sick souls in Soul Society other than them because they usually just. Die pretty soon after arriving?

And if spiritual power leaking is what causes spiritual pressure, and the “vents” can be closed... do people in the districts sometimes close them by mistake and then blow up? Is spontaneous combustion a thing in the afterlife?

The second: I’m pretty sure “Ichirin no Hana” is a love song that Byakuya is singing to Hisana’s memory.

Someone has probably stated this before, but the lyrics of the song literally say how some one, a “single flower,” is precious and can’t be replaced. How that flower bloomed despite being stuck somewhere dark and how they looked lovely but like they were about to wither away. And that the singer would accept all of their pain if only that person would smile and stay with them...

The title of the song also matches the title of the chapter in which Byakuya reveals to Rukia the secrets he’d been keeping from her about Hisana. He uses the same words, “ichirin no hana” to describe the season in which she died

Literally his whole dilema during this arc, the entire way he interacted with Rukia up to this point, was that he was conflicted between his sense of duty (to his parents, his wife and keeping his word) and his feelings for his beloved Hisana. Rukia’s physical resemblance to her sister is almost uncanny and the lie she is told when she asks why she was adopted was, “You look like Byakuya’s late wife.” How much must he have hated that? A person whom he had sworn to protect that, had she arrived two years earlier might have saved his wife’s (after)life? A person that looks just like his beloved, who reminds him of her every time he sees her (for those first 50 years), but is not and never will be Hisana. And then. To know that she’s going to be executed for crimes, that she felt she could not rely upon him enough to even let him know she’d encountered trouble in the human world when he’s been doing his best to ensure she’s safe (because that is one of the few reasonable explanations for why Rukia hadn’t been promoted yet, and then was promoted during the 3 year gap)? To see her stripped of her rank, her strength even (with that collar and the stone of the prison tower). To see a small form who so resembles his beloved all listless and soon to die, wearing a white yukata like his wife had in her last days...

Watching it again made me feel things, okay? Like yeah, it seems like it’s a stupid dilema from some perspectives. Especially considering Central 46 had a run in with Aizen by then, but. Byakuya was raised in the Seireitei. He was raised knowing that his life was the Seireitei’s tool. That his duty, his reason for existing was for the sake of his family’s honor, so he must be composed, must act as the family and Soul Society bid him. That’s some mighty powerful brainwashing/indoctrination right there. And he broke it once already to marry some nobody from the slums. He did something not only against the norms, but something selfish. Maybe if she’d had high spiritual power this would have been accepted, but she was sickly and likely did not. He went against the clan elders who had probably instilled obedience in him since birth and was afraid of doing it again.

(And if you count the filler arcs, you can bet that they held that one Kuchiki who went traitor against him too. Like: “he married that Hisana girl against our orders? What next? Will he betray Soul Society too?”)

And maybe I’m making a bigger deal out of his upbringing than I need to. Maybe it wasn’t really like this. But I feel like it really was. (Moreso with the filler arcs and what I’ve heard of the light novels.)

Also, this song and the way that the opening animation fit together really solidifies the whole “Ichigo and Rukia were always meant to have a tragic romance” vibe that I kept getting the first time I encountered this series.

The third: Rukia was likely younger than six months (physically) when she was abandoned, but I’m pretty sure that she was older than three months when she and Hisana died.

Her blanket was pink in the flashback.

Sure, the above might not seem to have much significance but it’s been proven in canon that clothes are part of oneself. I reblogged a post a while ago that went into detail, but to sum it up, clothes are part of your self image and your self image determines a bit about what you look like when you die.

Babies are usually no longer swaddled by the time they’re six months old, and some places recommend that you stop by the end of their second month.

Babies have pretty bad vision when they’re born. They take four to six months to reliably track objects in motion and use binocular vision decently. They take about four months to see across a room, and about two months to see farther than maybe 30 cm away. And around the three month mark, they start having decent color vision. Around then is when babies supposedly start showing color preference.

Babies tend to have poor long term memory. (To be fair, they’ve got a lot going on compared to being in the womb and sensory overload sucks.) Their memory by the age of six months is only a few weeks. Two months old had a memory span of a few days.

If she’s been consistently wrapped in a pink blanket, then by the time she’s old enough to see color, she would be old enough to remember what color her blanket usually is— or if it was a different color that particular day.

The fourth: when Gin raises his spiritual pressure on Aizen’s orders, Chad remains standing. This raised a bunch of questions as Gin is stronger than Yammy (to the best of my memory).

Chad remained standing. Yes, his whole fight with Captain Kyouraku was about his resolve and how he would stand by his friends and fight for their safety/ideals but. Like. Earlier that year, his spiritual strength was on par with Yuzu. He’d been friends with Ichigo for years which was why he was even that strong. He’d been in a Hollow attack maybe three times before Rukia was arrested and could only barely see them the time Ishida pulled a stupid and used Hollow Bait. Sure, he has experience fighting and he’d trained under Yoruichi, but it feels sus considering how the others fared.

Orihime fell to her knees pretty quickly after Gin turned up the pressure. She’d also fought against high-ranking shinigami at that point, and trained under Yoruichi, and fought off Hollow (alone even! And she was the reason why Sora moved on, despite Ichigo’s Blade purifying him) before. And yet... It could just be a lack of resolve, as that had come up in earlier chapters but it doesn’t feel right.

Ishida is excused from this due to circumstances.

Tatsuki has been friends with him for ages. Sure, it seems like they weren’t as close after his Mom’s passing, but by then they’d already known each other for quite some time. I’m pretty sure that they were hanging out semi-regularly through junior high/middle school, at which point he got close with Chad and she got close with Orihime. She also has experience fighting (admittedly in martial arts rather than the street fights Ichigo and Chad get dragged into). She experienced at least one hollow attack during Ishida’s Stupid Day. But she collapses as soon as Yammy shows up? That feels off.

In contrast, Ganju was struggling about the same amount. He was born to a noble family— who are known to typically have decently high spiritual power, like his older brother Kaien and his cousin/uncle Issin. He was raised in the Rukongai, meaning he likely came across Hollow attacks. (And those definitely occur.)

Makes me wonder things about Karin’s strength. Like, she managed to escape from the hollow who attacked their house to run for Ichigo’s help (manga) or lived long enough while alone with it that Ichigo and Rukia could come save her (anime), both of which are quite impressive for an eleven year old. She also kept up with Hitsugaya when they played soccer and he’s a captain. Based on Ichigo’s experience, it’s likely that she too will become stronger as she grows up. And does she have an inner hollow too, or is that Ichigo only? If White was simply a parasite and decided to stick to Ichigo I could accept it. But as a hollow Ichigo is a Vast Lorde, and hollows of that level can split into parts (like Starrk and Lilynette).

Does Yuzu not really have any spiritual strength because she inherited more of the Quincy genes from her mom and the hollow genes she inherited don’t balance out that same way it does in her siblings...? Food for thought.

TLDR: how and why is sickness as thing in Soul Society? Byakuya listens to rock music and I’m p. sure the third opening song is him angsting over his wife’s death; it also gave me strong feelings about how he was prolly brainwashed growing up so his angst over Rukia’s fate is not actually stupid. I continue to have IchiRuki feels. Rukia and Hisana died when Rukia was about 3 months old. And I am more confused now about how spiritual power works than I was before I started rewatching the anime for language practice. Also, more questions have arisen about hollows.

[iicytodoroki]

Childhood Friends to Lovers - Kageyama Tobio x Fem! Reader NSFW

Warnings: explicit language, fluff to smut (explicit), drinking (legal ages), unprotected (pls use it though!) please don’t read if you’re uncomfortable or too young, this stuff is dirty

WC: 3.1k

A/N: ah ha haa, what if i make a cute fluffy and domestic pt 2, a full 180 from this unholy piece

7 years ago

Dear Diary, 

I met this funny boy in my class, he was really quiet and always looked angry. Since we were sitting next to each other in the back corner of class, we were assigned as partners for the rest of the year. During our first lunch meeting for our project, I caught him trying to shake the vending machine screaming, “Argh! Stupid machine ate my money and won’t,” *kicks machine* “give me my damn milk.” Luckily, I knew where the other vending machine was, which was kind of hidden behind the gym of our junior high. So when we met up at the benches facing the empty tennis courts, I was able to see such a cute blush on his face when I gave him strawberry milk. Turns out his name is Kageyama Tobio and he loves volleyball.

5 years ago

Dear Diary, 

I was so sad today. I found out Tobio and I aren’t going to Shiratorizawa together. We met up at the park that meets halfway of our houses and read our letters. I was able to get in with my grades, but regardless of Tobio’s abilities, his grades were just not enough. I knew he was the most frustrated, but I ended up crying so much. He kept hugging me saying that “It’s okay, we can still see each other, we know where we live.” But I kept saying it’ll be hard for me to make friends since Tobio was the only one I really connected with. I couldn’t see his face, but he just kept hugging me harder. He just said that I’m smarter and stronger than him because I’m brave enough to cry for both of us and get into Shiratorizawa; “Go there for both of us and I’ll meet your school’s team on the court and show them what they’ve missed out.” Tobio always had an odd smile back then, but the gloss on his blueberry eyes told me he meant it. So I smiled too and we just stayed there enveloping each other’s warmth. 

2 years ago

Dear Diary, 

It was the week of our graduations. Shiratorizawa’s graduation happened before Karasuno’s. But Bateyama (exhausted Kageyama) had to oversleep. Luckily, the previous third years from my first year came over to congratulate me since I was their manager. Tobio forcing me to learn volleyball seemed to come in handy, plus I was able to see them in their matches. Anyways, my closest friend Wakatoshi came. He brought me my favorite flowers and gave those rare smiles for me for graduating as Top 3 in my class! Ah, to make Waka proud and smile. It’s so rare just like Tobios, they’re both volleyball idiots but they're my volleyball idiots. 

After about an hour the third years had to leave for their trains and Tobio was then running towards me! I was so ready to yell at him for almost breaking his promise, but I kinda choked when I saw he was red-faced in a cuffed white button up and tie, black slacks, and a belt that definitely accentuated his upper build. He kept on apologizing for sleeping in, but he said he’d make it up by taking us to our usual restaurant.

Boy, did he feed me well. I really wanted to confess to him when we were walking home. His side profile looked so handsome with the orange and gold glow behind him. But then he told me he was going to the city, either Chiba or Tokyo to train for the volleyball team. So I stopped myself, I mean he’s going to be so busy and I’d just hold him back, right? What kind of friend would I be to stop him from his dreams after working so hard for it since second grade?

So we agreed to keep texting each other of course, and have the occasional meet up since I’ll be going to Keio University near Tokyo. 

Today

Dear Diary, 

I’m finally on break!!! And I got plans to meet up with Waka for dinner! Geez, I haven’t seen him in ages. He’s been constantly keeping me up to date with his matches and training and always checking in if I have food. He’s still the same back in high school, always looking out for me like a reliable captain. He also told me Tobio got in the Schweiden Alders! So maybe I get to finally see my blueberry boy. To be honest, I am kinda nervous though, we rarely text and haven’t seen each other in over a year. 

Checking the time, it read 3:20pm. You had to get ready and leave by 4pm, so hopefully you can make it to the gym by 4:30pm when Waka finishes up practice. Now that you knew you’re likely to run into Tobio, you thought maybe you should dress up a little. So putting on a long straight skirt that flattered your ass in the best ways and a short sleeve blouse that matched your natural makeup, you checked yourself out in your mirror. You for sure grew into a beautiful young woman, each feature on your face was no longer the “sweet, lovely YN”. You could take on any person you’d want. One you’re hoping to make an impression on after you meet him today. 

Awkwardly standing at the entrance of the gym, you can see a crowd of really tall and muscular guys patting down with towels and drinking water. Finally your eyes met with the stoic face of the olive-tone man. Waka started walking towards you, still clad in his sweaty uniform but you didn’t care. You went up to him and hugged as much as you could of his sports model torso. 

Waka gave you a small chuckle at your attempts and returned your hug. As you two were recapping your plans after he cleans up, you see at the corner of his bicep tufts of the same black hair you wanted to run your hands through. The blueberry boy was busy patting the sweat off his face with a towel. 

“Tobio? Tobio!” Hearing his name, Tobio looked in your direction as you jogged up to him. He looked to be in a state of shock that you were actually here. He staggered a bit when you hugged him, but after a moment he wrapped his arms around you.

Wow, he sure trained hard.

Pulling you out from deeper--inappropriate--thoughts, Tobio pushed your shoulders at arms length giving you his dopey smile. The dopey smile just for you. 

“What are you doing here, YN?”

“Oh, I’m here to meet up with Waka. I’m finally on break and he’s off this weekend, so we wanted to get dinner together.”

Looking behind you, Tobio sees the walking Super Ace coming towards you guys.

“Ah! You should join us Tobio! Right Waka?” you smiled looking up at Wakatoshi.

“Mm. If he’d like,” he stoically said.

“Sure, let me just get in the shower and I’ll meet you at the foyer.” 

Happy at the answer you wait for the two giants. While walking to the restaurant with a Koshitsu (private room/booth) you were in between the two, making you feel much smaller than you are. You kept talking since both of them were mostly listeners. Waka gave the hum for acknowledgement, but Tobio would keep his eyes on you. More specifically your hands. He could just easily grab them, but you guys weren’t like that. 

Dinner ended right when the skies were turning into a rich dark, blue. Almost like his eyes.

You thanked the heavens you didn’t pay because those two literally ate for a whole family. Each of them. Nonetheless, it was fun catching up with the volleyball fanatics.

“Would you like for me to walk you home Yn,” Waka asked.

“Um,” you hesitated since you wanted Tobio to ask you first. But then, “Ushijima-san, I understand your sleep schedule is at 8:30pm, it’s 8:00pm now. It’ll ruin your biological clock, so I can walk YN home. Also, she and I live in the same direction.” 

Waka looked at you for approval and you gave a reassuring nod, “I’d appreciate that Tobio and don’t worry Waka, Tobio and I have been close friends since middle school!”

At that, Wakatoshi bid both of you a good night and safe walk back home.

Reaching the doorstep to your flat, you turned around to face Tobio. You and him both awkwardly looked down at your feet until you broke the silence. 

“Would, would you like to come inside for drinks? You know since it’s my break and your weekend off?”

Snapping his head up, Tobio meekly nodded his head. Now you both were drinking at your kitchen counter laughing at the old memories before graduation. The giggles finally quieted down until there was a pregnant pause. 

“You know, I’ve always liked you since that day you bought me that milk,” he said softly. 

Now alert and cleared of your foggy thoughts, you stared at Tobio.

Tobio continued, “I didn’t realize how much I loved you until I saw how close you were to Ushijima…”

“Wait, do you mean it?”

Tobio quietly nodded his head and looked right into your eyes. Searching for an answer.

Instead, you lunged at him holding his face in your hands as you kissed him. Tobio titled his head and rested his hands on your hips. After a few chaste kisses, he wrapped his arms around the small of your back and deepened the kiss. 

Tobio prodded at your lips for entrance which you gladly gave into. His wet muscle forced yours down quickly and focused on exploring your mouth. Muffled moans from his tongue touching the roof of your wet cavern and suckling of your own wet muscle. Your knees literally became weak and were about to give out. Sensing this, Tobio’s firm, vein-decorated hands grasped your ass to hold you up against him. Gasping at his rough kneading you moaned, “T-tobio…”

Hearing his name falls from your lips was like flipping a switch in him. Next thing you know, he lifted you so you were now sitting on the edge of the counter. He became more aggressive and desperate to have his lips meet the rest of your skin. He started to trail down your neck, leaving deep red marks at the junction of your shoulders.

“Nghh--more Tobio…”

At this, he lifted and threw your blouse somewhere over his shoulder and started leaving new marks until Tobio’s lips grazed the edge of your bra.

“Off,” he huffed, “Now.” 

Seeing the dark, lust in his eyes caused your lower abdomen to tighten. So complying to his demands, you unclasp your bra revealing your supple chest to him. Then you suddenly feel the calloused fingers tweaking at one nipple while massaging and the lapping of his tongue on the other. Tobio growled at the newfound source while you curled your fingers at the base of his hair behind his head. After whimpers and moans from him interchanging between each nipple, you feel his hard-on grinding into your inner thigh. 

“A-ah, T-tobio…” his teeth tugged, “pl….mm, please!” you shouted

Releasing his mouth with a wholly pop, he huffed and looked at you with his overcasted bangs, 

“Do you really want to?”

Even after all that he still had that crease of a frown and genuine concern in his eyes.

Smiling at his question, you looked at him through your lashes before meeting your foreheads saying, “Of course I want you Tobio, I want you so bad…” 

Hearing the air choke up inside his throat, you decided it’s your turn to play with him now. 

Nearing his ear, you whispered, “I want to feel every,” you hands trail down his stomach, “ridge of you,” now at the edge of his track pants, “inside me,” he feels your fingertips shadowing over his, “as your cock bruises my cervix for a week,” as you grab his dick.

“Hgnh, YN…” you heard him moan into your ear. The temperature rising after hearing his voice become an octave deeper saying your name, “Where’s--,” you knew what he meant. 

“The l-last door,” he kept grinding into you as he worked on your boobs again, “d-down...Mmm...the hall..ah!” At that moment, Tobio reached under your skirt and rubbed through your underwear. 

Finally knowing his destination, he lifted you with your legs wrapping around him as he kicked your slightly opened door to your room. At the soft bounce of your bed, you can see the moonlight illuminate on Tobio as he hurriedly took off his clothes. The shadows intensifying the curves of his abs and pecs. The moonlight highlighting the buff muscle on his arms and...his thighs.

Practically salivating at his sculpted body, you hear him chuckle a little before saying, “You like what you see?”

Confidence and heat now pumping through your veins, you got on your knees before slowly wiggling out of your skirt, giving him a show of your wet, laced underwear. 

“Do you like what you see,” you questioned as you propped your hands on his shoulders. 

“Yes, very much,” he smugly said. 

Tobio and you were now heavily locking lips. All the while, two of his cold rough fingers slipped through your underwear, being slicked up by your wet arousal. 

“Ahh...Tobio, please….I need you….inside,” your breathily moaned. 

Grunting at your plea, he quickly ripped off your underwear so that you both can clearly see the pool of your arousal staining it in the center.

Shoulders pushed down on the comforter, you gazed up at the lusted blue eyes. You both were panting and gleams of sweat could be seen glistening from the moon’s light. 

“Do you still want to,” Tobio asked again, with more seriousness than ever. 

“Yes, I want you Tobio,” as you pushed back his bangs that were dangling above you. 

Smiling at your response, he locked lips with you again. This time with so much love and passion knowing that you guys can finally be together after so many agonizing years. 

Distracted with his lips, Tobio used his hand to guide himself at your entrance. Feeling the tip, you both looked at each other one last time for approval before you gave him a nod. In your quiet room, you can hear the sound of your arousal gliding his cock inside you while Tobio huffed into the crook of your neck. Grabbing his shoulders and shutting your eyes, you can feel the girth of him widen you more and more, “T-tobio you’re,” your moan was caught in your throat, “so--” that’s when you felt the tip poking at your cervix, “...b-big”

Hearing your confession, you can feel the smirk grow on his face. But then you hear him let out a strangled grunt, “And you’re,” he grunts again, “shit...too t-tight…”

As you adjusted, Tobio used everything in him to stay still at your fluttering walls. You signaled him by nodding your head that you’re ready.

Tobio started at a slow pace, which slightly burned, that is until pain turned into heated neediness. Whimpering for Tobio to “go faster” the room was filled with your hitched wining and his hot panting on your collarbone. Your walls constricted around him, making you feel every vein and curve of his. The soft patting of the bed and wall only increased with Tobio’s need to hear more of your voice. 

So he took one of your breasts into his mouth and started flicking his tongue on it. The other hand which was gripping your hip was traveling down south. Through your folds, his thumb met with your sensitive nub. He began to make figure eights resulting in a rush of pleasure go through you. Shivering at it, Tobio’s tongue stopped for a second. He felt you tightening around him, making him release a deep throaty moan, “Anghh, Y-YN…”

Hearing his panting and increased pounding against your tightening muscles, you gripped his shoulders and arched your back when Tobio gave an extra hard thrust making you feel it all over the inside of your pelvis. 

“Nghh, I’m gonna---” you moaned until you hitched your breath because Tobio began pressing harder figure eights against your nub and he started to suck to bruise the junction of your shoulder again.

“I-I know, baby, just,” he let out a hot release of breath when you thrusted up to meet your needs.

“Tobio, I-ahh…!,” you couldn’t finish your sentence because Tobio used both his hands to lift your waist against him. Unfazed by his own need to have you released first, his dick was able to reach inside you in new depths you never thought were there. 

“I need you to cum first, princess,” he grunted as he brought you to him in a new angle.

With his bruising grip at your sides, your hands clawed and clenched at your sheets. You needed something to ground you as Tobio kept railing into you. The sound of skin slapping against each other and the feeling of your breast moving in rhythm of his thrusts pushed you at the edge.

“I can feel you almost s-snapping YN,” Tobio looked down at you, sweat shining on his forehead. With his shit-eating grin he continued, “Princess, I need you--ngh-- to cum now…” 

At this, everything just broke inside you. Your body released everything that was pent up resulting in a shake go up your spine. On Tobio’s end, you had a death-grip on him, your walls were so tight and were milking him of his impending orgasim. Your walls pulsing in waves. No longer able to hold it, Tobio released a guttural moan while leaning forward, as his warm cum splattered your walls white. Still riding out both your highs, you guys caught your breaths. 

Sitting back up on his heels, Tobio slowly pulled out from you. You wincing and clenching at the emptiness, and him hissing at the loss of warmth. Looking down at your womanhood, Tobio smirks in pride of seeing both your cum leaking out. Proudly, he used two fingers to slide the liquid up from the bottom of your fold, back into your abused hole. 

“Angh! Tobio!” You shouted at him from oversensitivity. He only chuckled at your reaction and leaned forward. He plopped right next to you and brought you up against his broad bare chest.

He kissed the crown of your head. After a few moments of basking in silence you asked,

“So does this mean we’re dating?” cheekily tilting your head up to him.

He scoffed at your question before he looked away with a tint of a blush, “G-go to sleep already.”

You giggle at his reaction knowing well enough what he meant. “I love you too, Tobio,” you said before shutting your eyes. 

Before you fell into a deep sleep you remember his dark-blue eyes gazing at you. 

He quietly said, “I love you too, dummy,” as he stroked the hair of your now sleeping form.

tag: @sugawalmartwobble​ @gulfwanq​

[valkyriesryde]

Shut Up

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Platonic!?Reader

Summary: Exams at the SHIELD academy are coming up and with that members of the Avengers have come to observe the next potential heroes. Some are more promising than others.

Requested by @idk123906​

Word Count: 2k

A/N: it should be known my life is basically just uni and My Hero Academia at the moment so writing about someone with powers I was like finally my time has come even though I literally write for Marvel but yea i don’t know what happened here but enjoy

What should I have for dinner?

I need to work on my left hook.

This is pointless, I know all of this already.

I shouldn’t be here, I should be up in the big leagues already.

Why the fuck is she staring at me?

God she’s so annoying.

Her combat skills are awful. She’s going to lose.

You stood at the edge of the mat, your fists by your side and your knees bent ready to leap forward if need be.

I’m going to destroy her.

Your opponent stared back at you from the otherside of the mat. He smirked, almost as if he was looking forward to the fight even though it was nearing the end of the training, this had to be at least his fifth sparring match, it was your sixth and final one.

“You’re going down,” he growled.

This will be a short one.

Your shoulders laxed for a moment at the voice. Not because it relaxed you, but because it was the nail in the coffin. Having the voice of the Black Widow in your head telling you she knows you’ll lose is never very motivating. 

It was the second to last week of training at the new SHIELD academy and there was so much tension in the air that it could be cut with a knife. Exams were the end of next week and nobody knew what the practical was going to be like.

There were no friends left, sure the cliques still moved in groups together, but once they stepped onto the mats it was you vs them no matter who you versed.

The final week also meant that sessions were being supervised by the best of the best. Natasha Romanoff a.k.a Black Widow had been present every day so far, today Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson were all present along with her.

They’d be here all day, watching, observing, even taking notes every now and then. And you had to spend the entire day listening to what they really thought about your fellow classmates as well as yourself. All thanks to your own powers of telepathy. You blocked it out mainly, or tried to at least, wearing headphones or focusing your mind on specific sounds and voices. Sometimes it wasn’t easy to ignore and sometimes it was tactical to hear what people were thinking around you.

Right hook

You dodged the attack as your feet moved swiftly to the side and you ducked under his swing. He always planned his moves in his head.

What the fuck?! Playing hard to get huh bet she can’t do it twice.

You couldn’t, he swung his leg and kicked you square in the back as you tried to regain your footing. 

She needs to work on her spacial awareness.

A new voice, one you had heard plenty of today. Your gaze peered to the Avengers standing to the side as you turned to your opponent. Natasha was shaking her head as she typed on her tablet. Bucky looked like he’d taken the hit himself as he cringed “rookie mistake”. Sam appeared unfazed. Steve Rogers, his stare was directly on you and it was obvious it was you he was thinking about. So you decided to take his advice.

Looking at the space around you you noticed that even though your opponent had the brute force and his combat far outclassed yours he’d made a mistake. In charging towards you he’d put himself at the edge of the ring. You had space all around you to move and dodge, if you kept him against the outer rim you may have a shot. 

So you moved, you stepped around and he followed your movement to try and read your attack. You kept him at the outer rim.

But he lunged again and then you were scuffling on the ground trying to get him off of you. He out-skilled you, he was stronger and bigger and you didn’t have a chance. 

How’d she get into this program?

You huffed and continued to try and kick him off as you heard Steve’s voice again. A scream and a punch but he’d already swung you out of the ring. You lost. Again. 

She’s not going to make it. - Steve

She’ll never survive. - Bucky

Disappointing really, with that power. - Sam

I wouldn’t want her on my team. - Natasha

You pulled yourself up from the floor, your blood boiling as you cursed yourself and stormed towards your bag, your sessions were done you didn’t exactly feel like sticking around for the last of them to be done. 

“Hey!” The deep voice called after you and your steps stopped as the Steve Rogers came to stand before you in all his glory. “I just wanted to tell you good try out there, you’re not always going to win them but you can learn from them. If you wanted I have some pointers that might help you?” 

You need it.

“Thank you, I appreciate it but I think I’ve got this, I’m fine really,” you answered and tried to step around him but he was just so massive it was hard to avoid hitting his shoulder on the way past. 

Won’t even take help when she obviously needs it

There was three hours until the final exam now. You’d trained every day, into the early hours in the morning in the gym to late night runs around the facility. None of it felt enough when you couldn’t even get out the voices of your peers and teachers saying how you were never going to make it; that you weren’t good enough. Captain America had made an appearance at every session since the first day and his voice was the loudest.

She needs to work on her agility

So you trained your agility that night to prove him wrong.

Her hits are weak

So you went through three punching bags over one night to perfect them. 

Your body was exhausted, your mind was empty after the written exam the day before. The final exam was before you and finally it had been revealed what you would be doing, a fight, one fight, one sparring session, verses the Avengers best hand to hand combat members. 

Clint Barton. Natasha Romanoff. Steve Rogers. Sam Wilson. Bucky Barnes. Three students to each and you were peered with none other than Steve. Even worse, you were his last one. 

Because Steve and Bucky were enhanced they would be wearing restraints that lessened their strength against their opponents. There was a pattern for who they were paired with. Clint was peered with those that were highest in agility skills. Natasha worked with the top three students. Bucky was with the ones who had explosive or dangerous mutated powers. Sam was with the ones who preferred the long tactical fights. Steve was classed with the ones who had strength mutated powers...except you, you should have been with Clint or Sam but you were peered with Steve and you had no idea why. 

You’d avoided all of the heroes for the past week, the closer they got the louder their voice was and you couldn’t deal with the hit to your mental state or motivation at a time like this. There as no avoiding them now though. 

Saving the easiest for last, he’s getting lazy. - Bucky

I can’t believe I have to stick around for this, it’ll be over by the time I reach the door. - Sam

I wonder if she uses it during combat? - Steve

You tilted your head at him but shook it off. It was well known what all of your powers were. It was also known how difficult it was to use telepathic powers in combat, you weren’t like Scarlett Witch, you couldn’t get inside someone’s head you could only hear their voices and even then if their guard was up sometimes it was hard.

Shake hands. Step back. The bell rings and Steve doesn’t attack. 

I haven’t seen her hit first.

He wants you to? 

Don’t drag this out for the fun of it you idiot. - Natasha.

That was it. Your blood boiled and your anger took over. You charged for Steve but he dodged you easily until you were leaping onto his bent leg to hoist yourself over his shoulders and to his other side, an elbow between his shoulder blades to send him away from you. 

Why doesn’t she do that in training?

“Because no one here has the same stance as you do.” You bite back at him and he loses his focus for a second, just enough for you to send a kick his way but not long enough for him not to catch your leg afterwards. 

“So you do use your power during combat then,” he smiled. God just get it over with, if you didn’t want this job so fucking bad you’d let him beat you immediately but you had to prove yourself. You had to prove your worth to him, to the rest of the Avengers and to all your classmates that actually you did deserve to be here. You had every right to be here just like everyone else. 

The two of you went back and forth for what felt like hours but was only a couple minutes, even with the restraints Steve still hit hard. He didn’t give you an opening, not one that you could find, he was too quick, at this point you were just running out the clock...too bad there’s no timer. 

Can you communicate back?

You shook your head, to answer his question and it gave you time to try and catch your breath. 

You really want this? You’ve improved a lot this past week.

Your scowl was ever prominent on your face as his comment reminded you of every fucking, you landed a punch, comment, then a kick to his left side that was left open, that came from him and his friends. 

Do you only hear your opponents thoughts?

“No.” Steve stood straight, he was sweating, you were both covered in it, your breathing heaving and your voice ice cold towards him.

What the fuck is going on? - Bucky

They didn’t know what you were saying but you kept talking to him and he wasn’t saying a word, they must have guessed you were using your power but this was an exam for christ’s sake you’re meant to be fighting.

“I hear them all, I don’t often have a choice in it,” you told him, you were so close to being done, you didn’t think your body could take it much longer, one more hit and you would be down for the count. 

I’m sorry. I’ve been underestimating you this entire time. 

Your eyes blurred. You used to look up to the Captain, you used to want to work alongside him, to follow in his footsteps but you weren’t so sure anymore. He and his friends took one look at you and decided you weren’t cut out for it. You let out a laugh as you and Steve went back to throwing attacks and attempting to dodge one another. This is how villains are made, this is why they say never meet their heroes. 

You can’t go much longer.

You gritted your teeth. FUCK OFF you wanted to yell at him. You were the one with telepathic powers but he was the one reading you. 

You’ve already passed you know. 

“It’s not about passing anymore though.” He quirked an eyebrow as you leaped behind him and caught him in an arm bar. “I deserve to be here.” He didn’t answer you, somehow through pushing and pulling he got out and in the process you were thrown out of bounds. You punched at the ground and groaned, as long as you walk out of this room on your own accord that was okay, then you can go straight to the nurse and pass the fuck out. 

“You do. But you’re not ready to be out there yet.”

Part Two: Vigilante

thank you for reading I hope you enjoyed it!

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