#i crave that old man i yearn for him my love for him runs as deep as his wrinkles | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

neetily · 3 months ago

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↳ EVENT 09. M!Robin (Jealousy Sex + Yandere)

— ✧ warnings: Yandere, Somnophilia, dubcon, Creampie — ✧ word count: 2,777 — ✧ genre: smut (18+)

— ✧ A/N: reposting from my old account since i was asked to! formatting might be off, but it's still readable.

Appearances are hard to keep up with when he's got you in his life. Though, all things considered, he thinks he's done a pretty good job of keeping your dumb little brain unaware of his true feelings thus far— real self locked away behind nice smiles and sweet platitudes out of necessity. Placating you until it's a good time time to strike, to get his grubby manhandling hands all over every inch of you like he fucking deserves; especially after putting up with you for so long, his whole life as he remembers it to be precise. Childhood best friends turned hopeful lovers.

And yet, he's too late. Despite all of the patient solitary wanting, fist down his pants over your sleeping frame every night, watching, waiting, struggling not to touch your most sensitive parts as you lay unaware, biding his time by instead collecting items of affection from you unnoticed, just so that his selfish self doesn't come on too strongly and accidentally scare you off. Pining in secrecy because his intentions are anything but pure, and you're so fucking innocent to him, God.

Even after all that time of him waiting— you still run off with someone else.

To who? To fucking Whitney, that's who. A shared bully figure, someone so undeserving of your kindness it's almost laughable, if only he didn't need you more than life itself. A slap in the face he intends on returning in kind tonight, sneaking his way to your bedroom early in the morning, when everyone else sleeps— careful of the creaky floorboards, he remembers which one makes the most noise— to show his beloved all about what you've been missing out on. And, selfishly, to express some of his built up frustration and downright hatred he holds for the man you've been seeing behind his back this whole time.

Because he's not as stupid as he's lead you to believe. Tapping into your precious little saviour complex as a means to grow closer to you, feigning innocence in the face of your genuine curiosity, just to play the part of your loving, harmless, childhood best friend. And it's been working, too; that's the worst part. The fact that he was so close to earning his reward, creeping into your room with slow movements so as to not wake you from the obnoxiously old hinges, so close to having you that he can practically taste you as his frame hovers over your own sleeping one.

A regular sight for him, pants already tenting just from huffing the same air as you, holding his breath for a second or two too long just to accurately hear you cutely puff out a few of your own. God, he bets Whitney doesn't appreciate you like this, does he? Bending down, careful not to fuss over you too much because you look just so cute snoozing away like that, hovering his lips mere inches away from your own for the sole purpose of sniffing. Inhaling your delicious scent like it were a drug, and it might as well be from how dizzy with desire his head becomes, cock heavy and dribbling in his pants without even having to touch you.

Does Whitney get the same way with you?

Drooling over your sleeping body, greedy paw magnetic to his cock as he starts to tug on it just from hearing you snore, blissfully unaware but oh, you make such a pretty victim. Of his love, of course. His obsession with the way your chest rises and falls in the moonlight, fat beads of precum rolling down his length, dripping down his balls to leave him feeling all gross and sticky and in love. All pure intentions here, he privately assures you.

Too many countless nights have been spent this way. Yearning for you, craving just a single taste— knowing deep down that the first bite is always the sweetest; hence why he's been waiting so long. Here, have this freshly peeled orange slice, I plucked the section by hand just for you. Except, instead of dipping your orange juice soaked fingers down his throat, Whitney has had the supreme pleasure of tasting instead.

To which he physically cringes at the mere thought of, a full body jerk back, cock throbbing in his pants out of sheer jealousy for where your fingers have been.

He's only here to take back what is rightfully his anyway. What is, and always has been, his claim. Proven by the fact that his cock twitches for you now, how it drools just from being near you.

"Shit..." He curses under his breath, still pawing away at his hard bulge, aimed directly at you. Only the barely audible shuffle of his pyjama pants every time he jerks his cock filling the room besides your own steady breathing. And then, a smile stretched his lips. Wide and toothy at the way you so easily get under his skin, how even just watching you sleep is enough to get his cock rock hard and his balls taut with seed. Wouldn't you agree that this indicates fate? That despite your affair with some bully like Whitney, the fact that he's graciously accepting your unknowing apology means that you're destined to be by his side, right?

"I still love you." Despite your adultery, he continues to smile. Interspersed with rushed gasps and sighs, an honest attempt to keep himself quiet out of fear of startling you— but don't worry. He has a lot more planned for you tonight. Best laid plans that've been years in the making.

Although, he thinks so at least. The reality of the situation dawns on him as you lazily snore that by being this close to you, one wrong move and his lips are touching yours, he can't think straight. Torn between taking things slow like he'd initially premeditated, or— go in for the kill as his prey lays bare.

A split second decision, unable to stick to fully one idea, he goes for a mixed approach. Tip toeing his way to the other side of your bed; it's not the first time he's slept over, and he'll make sure that it won't be the last either, he quietly sneaks under your sheets to snuggle his body next to your. So soft and warm you are, hair tickling his nose for him to huff at. "Fuck," He whispers to himself, fist instinctively wrapped tight around his twitching cock, fighting the urge to brutally flip you onto your tummy and pounding your shape into the bed below as fast as he can. It'd be easier if he took his time, right? Played into the tired role of sweet best friend, his eyes rolling back in spite of his attempts to return to that mindset— he can't help himself when it comes to you.

"S'all you're fault." He continues to whisper, reprimanding your sleeping body in hopes of your dumb little brain subconsciously remembering his actions tonight. "If only— fuck," he accidentally rubs too close to the sun, hips stuttering as his clothed tip brushes against your ass. He has to take a moment to collect himself, seething behind you out of utter frustration, or love? They feel all too similar to him when he's in this state. That is, when he's next to you.

"If only you didn't choose Whitney."

Deciding it's now or never simply because he's leaking profusely inside his pyjamas, surely turning them sheer with the amount of affection he regards you with, he tugs his bottoms down. No underwear to follow, free balling by your side because he wanted to fuck you tonight. Take your first time together while you remain blissfully unaware, in the most pure state you could be in. That's when he likes you best. A soft, unconscious, unwitting participant in his declaration of love. And, if you by chance wake up as he's pulling your panties down, or as he leaks copious amounts of precum onto your pretty ass, or when he gently lifts your thigh up just a little, enough to allow room for his cock to slip between, or when he takes to gliding his red hot and needy cock between your slippery folds— holy fuck, that feels so fucking good, then he's certain that he can reel you back to his side by way of some stupid friendly act. A little pout here, an eager apology there.

Regardless of how you take it tonight, you're getting his cock. He's decided you deserve to know exactly what you do to him, anyway.

The second he comes into actual contact with your untouched by him cunt he halts his breathing. Slipping and sliding along your slit feels better than he could ever have imagined, all those lonely nights spent fisting himself silly over your sleeping face immediately feel wasted. You're telling him that he could've been rubbing his fat cock against your pretty little slit like this all this time, turning your tummy all sticky white rather than your cute kissable face? Shit, he feels doubly cheated now! Silently slithering an arm under your neck for stability, the other hand resting on your hip to lightly squeeze and pinch at to keep himself grounded enough to focus on how unfairly perfect your body feels against his. The feeling of your squishy thighs unknowingly squeezing at his length causing a satisfied sigh to escape him, heart full at the thought of your unaware and naive mind being eager to please him even in your sleep. Meant to be, right?

He'll show you what you've been missing out on. Why Whitney is the lesser of two evils. Why you should break up with your sick little play pretend boyfriend and start dating him instead, like he'd intended on from a very young age.

Because yeah, he's been wanting you ever since he can remember. Humping his fat cock up and down your slick pretty slit at the memories of growing up with you. How you've always be on his mind, number one in his heart. After all this time, he deserves a fucking slice too, dont'cha think?

But fuck if you don't feel better than anything he's ever experienced before, downright ruined his fist for future fucks, determined never to use anything other than your perfect angel cunt from now on. He always knew you'd feel amazing, fucking knew it deep down in his gut. But nothing could have prepared him for how nice it'd feel to simply slip between your folds, to knock his dribbling tip against your clit over n over again just to hear your pretty little sleepy mewls.

A small laugh escapes him at your meek moans, easily hidden between the sound of shaking sheets and your squelching cunt, his eyes squeezed tightly shut to try and determine whether you're more wet from his leaking cock, or because your lewd body just wants him as much as he needs you right now.

So, could you blame him from 'accidentally' slipping into your tight little hole as he thrusts against you? Tip caught on your entrance like a beg for more, all his prayers answered the second he feels your squirmy walls accept and envelope his drooling tip, and swiftly his full fat length when he can't stop his hips from driving forward.

Which must have woke you up, at least a little. A confused mumble falling from your pretty lips as his body stills behind you, cock remaining balls deep and throbbing, pulsing inside your warm little hole with sheer need to fuck you into his shape. Carve out your insides so that no one else but him will ever fit again, made perfect solely for him, yeah?

But, after waiting for what feels like for fucking ever, his whole body shaking under the amount of restraint it takes to not fuck you into next week, he doesn't hear another peep. Feeling your body once again relax in his greedy hold, lust driven mind convinced that you must be giving him consent to continue. Because if not, then what else?

Propping one leg up on his other for better leverage, he digs his greedy fingers into your plush skin. Really dragging his nails against you— not on purpose! God, you just— "Feel so fuckin' good, ah..." he whines to himself, pouting at the back of your head with an internal promise to fuck you better than Whitney ever has; or will, for that matter. Drawing his hips back so torturously slowly that he has to let out a low whine from how desperate he is, hopeless in how much he wants to prove himself to you, needs to fuck you the way you deserve so bad, and fuck when you moan in your sleep? All light and airy, a breathless promise that he's doing good, keep going, he can't do anything other than adhere to your wordless plea. Pushing his hips forward again with a little more speed, and then pulling back a bit faster, and then thrusting into you at a much more satisfying pace— one that already has the bed creaking under the weight of his love for you, cute little cunt hugging his cock so well— fucking bitch. Should have picked him, yeah? Maybe then he wouldn't be trying to mount your ass right now, throwing a possessive leg over your own to more easily hump himself stupid into your tight little hole, the way your walls suck him in further, sucking his tip off just so well, like you were fucking made for it—

And fuck if you don't fucking shut up he's liable to shove his slick coated cock down your noisy throat like you're clearly asking for. Cute muffled moans for him to drink up, his voice coming out breathless and whiny when he reprimands you with: "Havin' a nice dream?" God you must be, from the way your insides gush around his intrusion, bullying his tip as deep as he can to try and reach places Whitney has never touched before. Hoping to stain your insides with his scent to ward off anyone else from getting too close to you, nails dragging your ass back down to meet his every greedy thrust with a wet slap! of his balls against you. Mine, he thinks to himself. Fucking mine, no one else should even think of touching you, right? My pretty pet, my good girl, aren't you? He can feel tension building in his tummy with his thoughts, huffing and puffing above you like some kind of bitch in heat, determined to mark you up from the inside out. So that even if you do wander off again, you'll be so thoroughly dirtied by his cock that no one else will even want to touch you. Wouldn't that be nice? To have you come crying in his arms, upset that no one wants you; except he does. Maybe a little too much given how frantically he thrusts into you now, driven only by his selfish need to breed his pretty girl.

Tight fucking cunt, oh my God. So good for me, doesn't this feel good? Feel better than Whitney, right? Wanna fuck you every night like this, fuck, every morning too. Wanna keep my cock permanently inside your pretty angel cunt as a reminder of who you belong to, who fucking owns her, huh? This pretty fuckin' cunt, who owns her?

"R-Robin—?"

Oh shit, did he say that out loud and wake you? Fuck, he's cumming immediately upon hearing your sleepy voice, coated in shame and misunderstanding, muted by the pillow under your pretty face. He can't stand how cute and drowsy you sound while getting defiled, pounding his spurting cock into you with fat ropes shot directly against your cervix, some of it gushing out of your stuffed hole to stain your bed sheets. Sticky insides still squirming around him as he rides your ass out silently, as if remaining quiet will somehow hide his transgressions tonight. Except, they're not really transgressions, are they?

He's only taking back what was originally his. Making sure you know your place by his side by humping his load deep into your hole even after his orgasm dissipates. Small stutters of his hips, struggled gasps for air after holding it in for so long.

"Morning, love." He sputters, back to his regular chipper self for you, cringing at the way his cock grows sensitive inside of your wanting hole. How it continues to beg for more fucks, coaxing him into circling his hips while pushed all the way to the base inside. "Did you sleep well?"

#dol #degrees of lewdity #dol smut #degrees of lewdity smut #robin the orphan #robin the orphan smut #robin🐦

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gojoshooter · 8 months ago

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PLEASE PLEASE PLEAS- make a part 2 for sukuna x hindu bride/wife btw if it isnt obvious i'm in love with ur writing style please like make it as long as you want (but like longer than part 1) srry if this is too much to ask but damn i loved that one coz like no on ...NO ONE has ever written abt it (make it a lil smutty or suggestive pls<3 )

oops anonie, might've gone lil more than "suggestive" 🤭 here's part 1 for new readers!

Sukuna and his Hindu!Bride pt.2

tw. suggestive, oral (f!receiving), reader wears a saree the old way without blouse

It's been a few months into your marriage with the mighty king Ryomen Sukuna, and you've already started yearning for his undivided attention. Although he has never not been immersed and utterly obsessed with his little pretty Hindu!Bride since the first time, you crave being more than just in your busy man's arms at the fall of night.

Today, you peek out to make sure your husband is out of the chambers before you proceed with planning what to wear—and it's not the regular queen atire.

You're dressed in a long gorgeous saree, heavy golden ornaments dazzling head to toes. Sukuna loved watching you captivate him with your traditional elegance.

Out of his thrown room after a long day, the king hears the ringing melody of your payal chiming around the royal garden. His brows rise up, Sukuna missed this playful sound around his shrine... it's about to be an interesting night.

Stepping into the loucious garden, he's walking around in the silver moonlight searching for your familiar silhouette with a subtle grin. “Where's my lady?” he drawls while seeking for your trace like a big cat.

Hidden behind a tree, you attempt your best to stop your giggles well known to the fact how sharp Sukuna's senses are. This little game kept your adrenaline high as you peeked your head to look where he is.

Stepping closer, Sukuna smirks standing right behind you, with your head the other direction. He whispers with a smug look on his handsome face “Brat, brat... so playful”. His sudden rough voice causes you a tiny flinch as you turn your head. Your playful almond eyes looking back up at him.

The king pulls you flush to his firm chest, drawing out a soft gasp from her bride. Two ruby-red eyes set on your softer ones as the smaller pair subtly checks you out up and down... demanding answers for what he didn't ask. A lazy huff leaves his chest as one of his big palm starts to caress your features. He can smell your arousal.

Blushing, you attempt to speak “King... my king,” a rough thumb is placed on your plush lips shutting you effectively. With a few more long minutes of him admiring or rather glaring down your adorable shy face, he finally let's go of your smaller body and you step back, flustered.

The king grips the end of your silky long atire, pulling it slowly with one of his large arms. As your saree unwraps your body, the pull makes you stumble back on his strong chest... now leaving you unveiled in front of Ryomen Sukuna like nothing but a flustered little mess.

The view made him grin. His queen, his Hindu!Bride clad in nothing but heavy jewels to cover her from the night's cold breeze. It almost looks like a part of your golden skin. Shivers run down your spine. No matter how many times, he would never fail to make your body feel worshipped like a real deity before pleasuring it.

“Mohini...” (enchantress) he whispers at the sight. Your heart accelerates at his remark, causing your blush to run down your neck.

The king's smirk widens as one palm goes for your heated centre, a mouth splitting open on it's surface as he hoists you up. A soft yelp comes out of you, while he brings you near a tree and holds you still on it's rough trunk. Your soft-as-petal limbs shake and twitch by the sides of his big wet mouth, chanting your king's name. You gasp for more air.

One snap from one of his hands, and small droplets of rain start falling down in the cold night. Watching your drunken eyes widen with wonder, he uses his two spare hands to grip tight on your ankles, pining them spread on the trunk as well. The first arm keeps you balanced up high in front of him while still drinking in all your essence. Sukuna seemed to be high on it's taste.

In the silent moment of intimacy, little sighs leave you as the rainfall soaks both of your bodies with water. Just how much is he capable of, will ever be a mystery to her wife as well.

“You are one seductive woman...” he grumbles next to your ear, sounding as if he hadn't spoken in ages. Skilled tongue on his palm firmly latched to your tender flesh. The dangling jewels on your hair, arms, waist, hips and ankles clinking together on your damp tan skin as your smaller body shook in his grip, creating music mixed with your whimpers of pleasure only for his ears's to listen.

Your arms flew to hug his neck, bringing him closer as you rode your intense high, eyes watering. Head spinned while Sukuna held you close, watching you breathe in and out to calm your heart.

“More...” came a weak voice from your dry throat, his sharp red eyes set on your pinned open body like a fragile butterfly, “Swami”.

His warm mouth latches on the side of your neck, sharp canines tracing their path to your favourite spot making your toes curl in air. The monster king smiles sadistically knowing he is anything but leaving you undisheveled right now in this royal garden...

masterlist !!

an. AAHHHSHSJ true form sukuna *bites fist* thank you anon for your precious words T-T hope this was long? likes & rbs are appreciated!! <3

tags: @anubisisthebomb @dianagracesworld @stellagrangerreads12 @momochina-sama @xxkay15xx @ruins-posts @shrekstealedurgurl @bibliophilemiyo @dottedhalfnotes @attackonnat @mangiswig

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all-eyes-lead-to-the-truth · 2 months ago

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All Eyes Lead to the Truth | How the Ghosts Stole Christmas (6x06)

‘Twas the night before Christmas on Larkspur Lane;

Ev’ry corner held loneliness, sadness and pain.

The house reeked of sorrow beyond all compare.

Indeed, ‘twas a time of dark, dark despair.

For many a moon we stayed dormant and still,

Awaiting some guests to our house on the hill,

For this singular night, yes– the one night all year

We’d be given a chance to spread holiday cheer.

But as the clock ticked further into the eve,

We worried that there might be none to receive;

Maurice in his topcoat and I, pale and gaunt,

Lamented a Christmas with no one to haunt.

When, what to our wondering eyes should appear

But two such lonely souls (also suckers, my dear)!

They searched through the mansion, as their flashlights beamed

For ghosts —but in truth, for each other, it seemed.

Our grayed, ghoulish faces grew flush with delight

As they crept through the hall —how delicious a sight!

Foolishly thinking themselves to be brave,

They were perfect, exactly the targets we craved!

The one with red hair, spouting theories a-flurry

Was doing her best to get out in a hurry,

While her partner (so handsome!) wanted not a thing more

Than to keep her nearby for just one more dark floor.

In eighty long years, I’d never quite seen

Two hearts locked at impasse like these two had been;

Denying their feelings, year after year

Out of loneliness, pride, and a good dose of fear.

At eleven o'clock, the grandfather did chime,

Giving we two just an hour of time

To trap these poor souls in their own lovers’ pact —

Like Maurice and me, there’d be no going back.

Maurice took the tall man; I, Lyda, the dame,

As we worked to uncover their secrets and shame.

You see, ghosts can’t do much but mess with the mind,

And these two were a challenge with so little time.

Maurice began prodding him– Mulder, his name —

To help find the answers he couldn’t explain;

Run down his issues, a glum inventory

(All of them paramasturbatory)

I, Lyda, found Scully, the lass of the two,

A bundle of pent-up neuroses, ‘twas true;

Her unconscious yearning, though present, was faint

For her partner, displaying impressive restraint.

I had to give credit, for weakness she lacked;

Resisting that man was a heroic act!

But… in love with a gent who would only see ghosts?

A lovers’ pact? Please. These two had no hope.

We considered retreating back up to our beds

While the agents ran into brick walls in their heads.

But something about them had told us instead

These two star-crossed lovers were better off dead.

(You might fairly ask why a couple of ghosts

Would decide to become such abom’nable hosts,

But ‘ere you judge us for what happened that night,

Remember: they trespassed, thus earning our spite.)

A wee little push, then, was all they would need,

And eventually they’d watch the other one bleed.

We’d need all our tricks, it was well understood,

To get Dana and Fox ‘neath our floorboards for good.

Getting him to believe was a simple first leap,

Then surely she’d follow, like a redheaded sheep;

‘Twas easy as shooting two fish in a barrel

Or singing a well-trodden old Yuletide carol.

With glee we did watch as they squirmed on the floor,

Covered in blood, all trust broken, for sure.

Our events set in motion that one day they’d see

How amazing a true partnership could be!

But then, in a twinkling, we heard Mulder speak

In a voice that grew strong after starting out weak:

“You’re not shot,” he told Scully, to greatest avail,

And they both got up, leaving our fine plan to fail!

Grabbing her hand, they took off like the lark,

Sprinting away, lost to us in the dark.

Maurice was upset, and I, Lyda, distraught;

Our scheme to turn foursome had all been for naught.

But the spirit of Christmas, alas, was not lost

As my love took my own hand, whatever the cost;

‘Twas a night to remember, although it was done…

What more’s there to say? Even ghosts should have fun!

Read the Rest of All Eyes Lead to the Truth on Archive of Our Own!

@admiralty-xfd

#mulder #fanfic #scully #x files fanfic #all eyes lead to the truth #x files #msr #the x files #season six #s6 #6x06 #lydia #maurice #how the ghosts stole christmas #poem

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aethon-recs · 2 years ago

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January 2023 Tomarrymort One-Shots

I wasn't planning to do a month-by-month rec list, but my god did January deliver on one-shots — so many showstopping works were published this month that these 10 fics deserve their own post. And what a variety too(!), with fics ranging from A/B/O to love potion mishaps to fem!Harry, and even canon-compliant(-ish) Harrymort.

Criteria for this list: one-shot, complete, published in January 2023 (yes, in the last month alone!)

Why one-shots?, you may ask. The majority of what I read is chaptered works and longfics, but I think one-shots can be a bit overlooked and underrated — they don't have ongoing updates on AO3, and the first rec lists in this ship that I encountered were dominated by longfics. So I wanted to celebrate and highlight the amazing work that the writers in this fandom are doing in short-form writing. Also, one-shots tell a full story arc in one go — and isn't that wonderful to get plot resolution and closure in a single sitting?

(Thank you also for dropping recs into my ask box! Please keep them coming!!)

Tomarrymort Recs (January 2023)

a dream is a wish by @funkyatheart (E, 5k)

This was such a delight to read from beginning to end. Cleverly weaved in between the canon events of book 5 are SUPER HOT dream-sharing sequences that show the escalation of Harry's increasing fascination with Voldemort. And we're gifted with hemipenes and consciousness-sharing through their mental link — what more can I can ask for from a Harrymort smut scene??

A Special Day by @vdoshu (E, 3.5k)

My jaw was ON. THE. FLOOR. for this whole fic. Grumpy old man Voldemort with all his old man habits was such a delight to read about — I don't think I've ever seen this concept done before. And when Harry shows up, the narrative tension is so good and kept me on the edge of my seat. I can't say much more without giving things away, but I definitely recommend this as one of the most unique and twisted concepts I've ever read in Harrymort.

Banish Me to the Garden of Eden by @contrarywiseizybel (M, 7k)

Rich, sumptuous descriptions run through this entire fic and bring to life — very vividly — the entire story arc of Harry locked up in a tower as Voldemort's captive and how he gradually comes to make the best of his fate. The author's writing is so poetic and lyrical and makes really good use of repetition, which gives the whole fic a very fairy-tale-like quality (including the happily-ever-after ending!)

Bruises Like Violets by @noumena-writes (E, 3k)

A forbidden romance between Tom and Harry who are on opposite sides of the war makes their last tryst VERY high-tension and fraught with danger. As always, noumena's writing is full of so many gorgeous and richly detailed phrases, like "The raging fire that burnt through every angry spell was slowly eating away at Harry, leaving a battle-weary shadow in his place." Absolute 🔥 writing.

Cherish by @amors-mordre (G, 1k)

This fic gave me the absolute chills in just 800 words. Voldemort is at his manipulative best here, as well as absolute peak possessiveness. The dynamic between Voldemort and captive Harry is delightfully creepy and leaves you craving more.

his lady in crimson (who reaches through time) by @ellorypurebloodculture (M, 5k)

This was such a cool non-traditional time-travel story! All the descriptions of fem!Harry and her outfits are absolutely gorgeous — I don't think I've come across this level of detail to costuming in very many other fics before; it was one of those really nice details that you can tell the author put a lot of work into and that really made the fic very memorable for me. And oh god, I felt every moment of Harry's heartful yearning and desperation and urgency in reaching out across time to Tom, and how much she loved him already — an absolutely beautiful love story.

never a victimless crime by @duplicitywrites (E, 7.5k)

Someone doses Tom with a lust potion keyed to Harry — and an absolutely wild, chaotic, wet, filthy hot mess of a shower-scene PWP ensues, featuring Tom who's been drugged out of his mind and Harry who's trying to do the right thing but is similarly incapacitated by a mild concussion. This had so much sexy chaotic energy, and is definitely one of the best things I've read on AO3.

Serendipity by @lissiamoonstone (E, 6.5k)

SO MANY LAYERS OF DUBCON. SO MANY LAYERS. And combined with super possessive Alpha Tom and Harry being in heat and somnophilia as the icing on top!? This was such a delicious mind-fuck — I reread it a few times and kept finding new things to notice, and I know I'll come back to reread it many more times.

They, of Riddle Manor by riddlereading (M, 16k)

I think this is one of the most unique Voldemort-wins story arcs I've read in Tomarry. Just one thing goes differently when Tom goes to Riddle Manor for the first time, and he doesn't end up killing his muggle relatives, which then sets off a sequence of events that result in Lily not dying and Harry growing up (with a happy childhood) in Riddle Manor. It's absolutely adorable from start to finish, and I had a huge smile on my face when I finished.

Tom Riddle’s Guide to Repeatedly Failing to Get Laid in the Restricted Section by TheOnceandFutureQueenofTarts (M, 3k)

I jumped to open this fic when I saw some of the tags here — dubcon, amnesia, mind manipulation(!!) This was such a fun and snappy read, featuring one of my favorite things — Tom repeatedly fucking with Harry's head to get what he wants (in this case, getting laid). He is absolutely undeterred and plays dirty, and we would expect nothing less of our favorite babygirl dark lord in training 💕

#tomarry #harrymort #tomarrymort #tomarry recs #tomarrymort recs #hp fic recs #one-shot recs #ao3 recs #fanfic recs #harrymort recs #2023 reads #2023 recs

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fandoms-rants · 11 months ago

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Andrew Minyard, Neil Josten & Andriel Quotes Part 2:

(Quotes that remind me of (and/or I think they would say in canon or fanfics which I hope someone will write) Andrew, Neil or both of them and/or therir relationship)

“He’s everything she ever wanted. And that’s scares the living shit out of her.” (Andrew about Neil)

“You are the finest, Loveliest, tenderest, and most beautiful person I have ever known-and even that is an understatement.” (Neil to Andrew)

"You," he said, "are a terribly real thing in a terribly false world, and that, I believe, is why you are in so much pain." (Neil to Andrew)

“and eventually you realize that real Love comes down to feeling safe enough to be vulnerable.” (Andrew)

"I crave so much more than just a physical connection. I crave words and depth. I crave who you are and where you came from, your desires and fears. I yearn to know every inch of you beyond the surface." (Andriel)

“She wasn't sure which scared her more, the fact that he wanted to explore her depths and understand her... or the fact she was willing to let him.” (Andrew about Neil)

“Sorry I’m late. I got here as soon as I wanted to.” (Andrew)

“Me, weird? Bitch, I’m limited addition.” (Andrew Always to Anyone)

“So you’re the bitch, that told the bitch, that I’m a bitch. Well listen bitch, it takes a bitch to know a bitch.” (Andrew to Allison**)

“A friend is someone who listens to your bullshit. tells you that it is bullshit and listens some more.” (Andrew about Renee)

“my type of goth is greek goddess persephone goth: all about flowers and spring and the sun with a deep, intimate love for necromancy and death and ready to punch a man at a moments notice.” (Neil about Andrew)

“You are either on my side, by my side, or in my fucking way. Choose wisely.” (Andriel to Everyone Else)

“You want to be on my level? Climb, bitch.” (Andrew to Aaron**)

To love without condition. To talk without intention. To give without reason. To care without expectation. The Spirit of True Love. (Andriel)

“Payback is a bad bitch. And baby, I'm the baddest. (Andrew to the Foxes(Neil **facepalms fondly**))

“Most people barely know themselves. So what does it matter what they think of you?” (Andrew to Neil)

“Act my age? What the fuck is that, "act my age" What do I care how old I am? The Ocean is old as fuck. It will still drown your ass with vigor." (Andrew post-canon, post-ext retirement)

“"Normal is an illusion. What is normal for the spider is chaos for the fly.” (Andriel to Everyone)

“He ran his hands over my past, lingering over the dents and worn edges of my heart. And when I thought he'd run away like the others had... he told me I was a warrior, and that I'd never fight another battle alone.” (Neil about Andrew and quite honestly Andrew about Neil too)

“When you find someone who can make you laugh. Smile. Grow. Lust. Want. Crave. Feel. Make you mad but happy. Keep that. That's euphoria.” (Neil about Andrew)

“"I still hold onto a small, childish hope that there's someone out there in this crazy, wild world so completely, utterly meant for me even the stars will sigh, at last! in relief at our meeting." (Andrew **reluctantly** pre-canon)

"It's impossible,"said pride. "It's risky,"said experience. “It’s pointless,”said reason. "Give it a try." whispered the heart." (Andrew about Neil)

“The most beautiful part to loving a guarded girl is this: when she lets you in, it's not because she needs you. She stopped needing people a long time ago. It's because she wants you, and that is the purest love of all.” (Neil about Andrew)

When your eyes met mine, my soul pointed at you and whispered to my heart, "Him.." (Andrew about Neil, when Neil looked up at him after Andrew took his breath away during their first meeting;)

“When a flower doesn't bloom, you fix the environment in which it grows, not the flower.” (Andrew)

“The most beautiful part is, I wasn't even looking when I found you.” (Neil to Andrew)

“Don't put me in a position where i gotta show you how cold my heart can get.” (Andrew)

**Fyi I don’t like Allison and don’t think her and Andrew will ever get along as anything more than mild antagonist acquaintances who’s significant others are the friend of the other.**

**I don’t like Aaron either but much like Neil I tolerate him for Andrew’s sake. And yes I’m aware they are both 5’ tall.**

*WARNING: About copyright, Quotes come from various places(ie. FanFiction, Tv, Movies, Music, Pinterest) so use in your own fanfic stories at your own.. I can’t think of the word but you know what I mean.*

#aftg #andrew minyard #neil josten #andreil #quotes #my post

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ventblockeddiary · 3 months ago

Text

My life was already over before I was even born. And now I'm forced to live in a purgatory for however many depressing years I have left (r/offmychest)

Meant to post this on r/offmychest but ironically my post kept getting marked as spam and removed. Anyway.

This is probably going to be a really long post, and I dont really expect anyone to read it all the way through or anything, I think i just need to get this off my chest because i've been feeling this heavy crap for years but i dont think even once that i've sit down and ever wrote it out. and i think i want to, even if it wont help. and if i get dramatic with this im very sorry, it might be cringe lol but i tend to be very dramatic so just ignore that if you read it

I always knew I didn't belong to my immediate surroundings. I was never like my family, or even my bestest, closest friends. Everyone was so different to me. For context, even though I hate saying it out loud/admitting it to the world, I was unlucky enough to be born into an asian household (and not the better, superior asians, either. Im sure you understand what I mean.) and to make it worse, I was born under an abusive, narcissist man of "religion". (cult.)

I love God but He doesn't love me back. I don't blame Him either, I'm repulsive and evil and disobedient. I don't deserve His love or His grace when I am every single thing He hates. Maybe thats why Im being punished. Maybe He knew I was always going to turn out like this, so ever since I was born I've been subjected to nothing but horror and grief and nothing else. nothing else.

I wish i could articulate everything inside me better. this is so fragmented, i know, but i dont even know where to start. I was born on the other side of the world, but I always identified more with the "West"...i know that sounds insane and fucking stupid. But i swear to god, my brain was wired like someone who would grow up *anywhere* but where i was??? my cultural traditions and religious obligations never made sense to me. they were always restrictive. MORE than they should have been. I was always more disturbed by them than my friends, i never managed to connect with anyone because our differences were so vast. While i was thinking of living life free and adventurous, EVERY other person around me, older and younger, were content with the life plans our culture set out for us (married by or around 20, enough kids to be a large family by 28, sitting at home or doing a 'respectable' job)

When i told my best friends, at 11, that i wanted to run away with them and live like roomies in Japan (i was a weeb. embarrasing) they were more grounded in reality and said "well, when we grow up and get married then we can leave our homes for vacations every now and then". but that disgusted me. i didnt want to get married, i didnt want to get old and THEN live my life. I didnt want to go from being one mans property to another mans property. but everyone thought (and still thinks) im insane and "feminist" and a stupid child. i admit that i was delusional...i mean my other friends were more tethered to reality at 11 to know running away from home at our age would be horrible. Why the hell was i so fucking stupicd

When i was younger, romance made me cringe. I was vehemently against shitty romcoms and boring love movies...but i was secretly yearning for it. I didnt realize it then. i realize it now. I made big shows of disgust at anything remotely romantic or lovey dovey, but i think i was craving it more than i let on.

so, the man i was born under, he's extremely....well. sexist and misogynistic and he looks weirdly at VERY young girls. he wouldnt mind ruining someone elses daughter, and he projected that on us i guess. because let me tell you this. I have never left the house alone. I have never been without "supervision". I have never gone to a gender mixed school, he always found the shittiest organizations with girls-only schools and made every. single. fucking. decision for me. I didnt even get the OPPURTUNITY to rebel. To make my own decisions. I wasnt allowed to go out. I wasnt allowed to dress in anything but the crap he and my mom picked. Covered head to toe. I felt disgusted with myself. My mom was disgusted by my rapidly develping body. I think i developed so fast because im disgusting and i was a perverted kid, so i made myself grow way too fucking early. I dont even know why I was so fucking perverted. I think its genetic, because you CAN inherit stuff like that, and since the man i was born under was a disgusting perverted SOB, I got his ugly, defected genes. And i didnt know all this about him until i was 20 i think, because before that we all thought he was super religious and super anti-women, but then we found out he was cheating on my mom with multiple young girls, too many to count. And he told her youre old and disgusting now when hes MUCH older than her. He said 14 year old girls are better. my mom almost went insane with disgust and shame. i had to hold her back from wrekcing her own head.

I dont even know what the hell Im saying anymore. I dont know how to articulate this.

I am 22 now. turning 23 this year. Every birthday is fucking depressing because i realize he stole my teenage years from me, and now hes stealing the last few years of youth i have left. and then what? i'll be married off, wont i? to some ugly man who may or may not be a closeted freak like all of them turn out to be. my mom screams at me, "this is the only way you can get your freedom"

because shes been injected with the same religion's cult-ish ideas. My family is stifling me. The idea that i will never make it out of their clutches makes me want to just. i cant do this anymore.

i wanted to fucking go to uni abroad. after my high school i wasted TWO fucking years tryng to pray and manifest going abroad, escaping this hell hole, gaining some fucking FREEDOM. but i was a fucking fool and i wasted two fucking years in which i got incredibly depressed and my mother always brings up how i wasted two entire fucking years before they forced me to go to the all-girls university i did NOT WANT TO GO TO. They ruined my fucking life by sending me there. This univeristy is more like a fucking school, i cant explain it to you, in fact theyre more strict on girls than they were on us back in fucking SCHOOL. but im almost done. i wasted 3.5 years here. ha.

now my younger brother finished his high school, and everyones talking about sending him to the uk or something :) because hes a boy. my mom is so supportive of it. she would never support me going on my own. i listen to them sit around and talking and it makes me want to.

dont get me wrong. im happy for him. and he worked really hard to get scholarships. I was a r who could barely fucntion so i failed my entire way through high school. he got straight As. he worked for it. he deserves it. But ofc the man we were born under doesnt want him to go. hes the only one. He said to my mom "None of them are ever going to escape my control. Just you see."

He likes seeing us being held back. Makes sense why he runed all our potential and put us in cages.

Theres a lot more.

Theres so much more, about my body, about my limited, closed-off 'friendships', about my own faults, about this damn passport that i want to burn. But i cant put it here. I dont know how to articulate it.

I hate myself so much. Its not just his fault, its my fault too.

Sometimes I think about the multiverse, and I hope to god its real. Because that means that somewhere out there, I exist, and Im happy. maybe in that world, I'm beautiful, and doing youtube like i wanted to. Maybe Im a great poet and literary writer like I've always wanted to be. Maybe Im in theatre. Maybe I know how to do ballet. Maybe I live open and free and maybe i dont hate myself and maybe i dont want to kill myself every waking hour. Maybe i got lucky enough to be born elsewhere, to have a different stamp on my passport, to not be born into a cult. maybe i get to dress how i want and adhere to my own rules and aesthetic and im not always feeling inferior and watching other poeple live my dreams

i dont want to watch my youth slip away anymore

and my situation is so specific, nobody fucking gets it. i see these lucky people on social media, all around me, even in my personal life. and nobody gets it. if i tell someone all they feel is pity. and i dont want pity.

nobody has any advice for me. because i cant fucking get out of here.

someone i begged to to get me anti depressants so i could at least kill my emotiosn told me "i cant get you those, because theyre meant to be taken for a situation that slowly improves. Your situation isnt changing for the foreseeable future. Realisitically. So you'll just get addicted and i'll have to keep upping the dosage until i cant."

i wasnt born sad. my mom keeps saying "you were such a happy baby". yeah, i laughed, even though he was beating on me and i was constantly aware something was wrong with me because of my perversion. i dont think ive been happy ever since i got an iota of conscience.

i wish i wasnt scared of the afterlife. i wish God hadnt outlawed seeing myselg out of all this.

#off my chest #vent #tw depressing thoughts #depression #no hope #stuck

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unhingedwomandiaries · 9 months ago

Text

50 Things To-Do Before I'm 50

1. Write my will.

2. Solve a Rubik's Cube.

3. Visit Aigre, France.

4. Go mining in the Mines in Hare Hill, New Cumnock, East Ayrshire, Scotland, UK.

5. Earn £50,000+.

6. Get the tattoo design I've wanted since I was nine.

7. Try olive oil and sea salt on vanilla ice cream.

8. Go golfing in Scotland.

9. Finish a tube of chapstick.

10. Take a photo of my Aunt to Paris. Show her picture around all the sites.

11. Figure out x's surname and meet the people from my half-family.

12. Run in the London Marathon.

13. Complete the hidden Tetris levels.

14. Run a mile in under 15 minutes.

15. Go to the corner bodega and pick out a soda flavour that sounds completely disgusting or out of the ordinary for me.

16. Make at least one Strava Art.

17. Adopt a cat and name it after my late Aunt.

18. Eat a homemade quiche that doesn't make me gag.

19. Try Opiate Dentiare toothpaste.

20. Own an ereader with a digital pen.

21. Try a deep fried Mars bar from the chippy shop.

22. Buy a bottle of wine and drink it in twenty years.

23. Start a women's football team at work.

24. Discover a new band.

25. See a Yankees game in London.

26. Fast for a day.

27. Go to a restaurant and order something completely different from my usual.

28. Reconnect with an old friend.

29. Grow my cuticle back on my pinky finger on my right hand.

30. Don't dye my hair.

31. Own a set of bed pillows from The Ritz.

32. Eat a hog roast leg at Peppa Pig World.

33. Eat fufu with my hands.

34. Kiss the blarney stone.

35. Find a four leaf clover.

36. Go to Turf Tavern in Oxford and have a cider.

37. Read a banned book.

38. Bowl a strike.

39. Eat a Colin the Caterpillar cake on my birthday.

40. Learn Korean.

41. Become a British citizen.

42. Eat insects that aren't covered in chocolate, sour coating, sugar, or spicy dusting.

43. Be the Mother of the Bride/Groom at a godchild's wedding.

44. Petition to get a statue of John Woodcock next to Baxter Hulme's.

45. Try a Korean corn dog.

46. Time travel to experience New Year's Eve twice.

47. Watch the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace on the 25th anniversary of 9/11.

48. Try carbonara the traditional way without cream.

49. Swim in Bulgaria's Black Sea.

50. Put a flag on my bicycle.

I'm just minding my business on my lunch break, trying to savor a few moments of solace in the bustling chaos of the office, when x decides to make my midday sandwich a lot less digestible. He strolls up, bold as brass, seeking my profound wisdom on the intricate dance of romance. I mean, really? Do I emit the vibe of a seasoned dating guru?

In front of my entire team, he unveils his quest for love counsel, completely oblivious and unbeknownst to him my questionable dating history – like that time I tolerated a man who thought physical abuse was an acceptable form of communication. Oh, and let's not forget the somnambulant escapade with an ex who had a peculiar fetish. According to him, consent is optional if it aligns with one's peculiar predilections. Not exactly credentials for Cupid's advisory board.

To add a splash of absurdity to this charade, the guy is a whole fifteen years my senior. I'm left pondering what peculiar rites of passage the Gen Xers engage in. Amidst his quest for love, he drops the bomb that he's on a race against time to conquer a checklist of fifty exploits before hitting the half-century mark. At 49, he's got his sights set on the Andes Mountains.

As he rambles on about his bucket list, my mind drifts to more pressing matters – namely, my unfulfilled yearning for an Andes candy bar. You know, the one with those charming mountains on the packaging? A moment of whimsy amidst the absurdity of it all.

Yet, amid the lunacy, a spark of inspiration ignites. I crave my own checklist, one that transcends the mundane. To outlive my father and face the challenges with unwavering courage – now that's a list worth crafting.

#diary #50thingstodobeforeim50

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witchersgoldenbard · 3 years ago

Note

PROMPT FOR NAT

"i never meant to make you cry" fluff instead of angst for geraskier?????

yknow what, i think 5.5 months in my ask box is a perfectly reasonable amount of time it takes me to get to a prompt, wouldn't you say? i'm sorry, kingerino, but i finally had a craving for geraskier somfts so this came in handy. as always, it ran away from me.

Geralt loves watching Jaskier work on his clothes. It's mesmerising. It's beautiful. It makes him yearn for soft things and pretty flowers on his own clothes.

wc: 2.1k | tags: geralt deserves nice things, yearning, embroidery as love language

Sometimes when Geralt looks at Jaskier, as always horribly overdressed in his new dark green doublet with golden embroidery, he feels a sting in his chest that is different from annoyance. Sure, he is tired of Jaskier's endless laments of another chemise ripped to shreds or dirtied beyond saving, drenched in monster guts or traces of dirt where he slipped in those ridiculous boots. In fact, Geralt will never cease to sigh in exasperation at Jaskier's dramatic antics that could all be avoided if only he chose to dress accordingly.

All of that is old news, and Geralt barely registers his eyerolls and grunts anymore.

But sometimes, he looks at the man in his cheerful clothes and he feels... almost jealous. He wonders how the soft linen of Jaskier's chemise would feel on his chest, how the silk would feel on his arms after half a day of wearing it. He likes touching it, enjoys the feeling of soft fabric under his fingertips, and sometimes he will find excuses to touch Jaskier when he wears something particularly nice-looking. When that happens, Geralt always has to stop himself from giving a satisfied hum, and he looks away before Jaskier can catch the smile on his lips.

What's more than the fabric of his clothes, though, is the work that goes into decorating it. Laces here and there, embroidered flowers along the collars and sleeves, artfully and skillfully stitched threads to add a bit of contrast to stark colours. It suits him, and Geralt knows Jaskier designs most of his finer clothes himself. Every other night, when he's not too exhausted and his mind not caught up in one story or another, Jaskier will sit across from him by the fire and add another flower to one of his shirts, another golden or silver or blue line along his seams. He's always working, always stitching, always so busy with it that he doesn't notice Geralt watching.

Staring. Yearning.

Jaskier, clad in silks and the finest of fabrics. Geralt, clad in rags and once-sturdy linen shirts that are threadbare and have more holes in them than he has the patience to count. Jaskier, busy mending his chemises where he can, hiding the tears and holes behind interwoven vines and blooming flowers while his tongue pokes out of his mouth and he is blissfully silent for once. And all Geralt can do is stare at the points where the needle disappears.

He knows how to stitch wounds and how to mend his clothes effectively, but this? This feels like it is one of the secrets that only Jaskier has the key to - and he makes it look so easy.

It's stupid, he knows, but he wants to ask. How do you do it? How do you make this look like a dandelion with nothing to go by? Can you teach me? Can you show me? Can you help me? He doesn't, but it rests on the tip of his tongue each night he gets to watch Jaskier. Very rarely does he dare to look away, and Jaskier doesn't seem to be aware. It's mesmerising to watch him so focused on something. When he writes, he's never quiet about it, always asking him for words and for ways to say it better, scoffing at Geralt's suggestions and running with his own, without fail.

Geralt huffs out a laugh at the memory of this, and Jaskier looks up from his chemise, just barely avoiding his finger with the needle as he does. "What's funny?"

"I'm just enjoying your silence," Geralt teases, grabbing another piece of bread and offering the other half to Jaskier.

"Very funny," the poet says and rolls his eyes, leaning back for a moment to stretch his back and neck. A resounding crack comes from his joints, unhappy at their position where Jaskier has been hunched over his newly adorned chemise for half an hour now. "Ah, fuck," he sighs and resumes his position, casting a glance over to where Geralt is still holding out his bread. "No, thank you, darling. I wanna finish this first, I'm almost done."

Geralt wants to protest, but as Jaskier sets about resuming his work, giving a few leaves to the woven vines and dandelions, he quickly forgets about the bread.

Sometimes when he lies awake at night and feels the wind through the holes in his clothes, Geralt fantasises that Jaskier steals his clothes one by one to give them the same treatment as he gives his own. Sometimes he even fantasises about asking Jaskier to do it. But then he realises how stupid it would be. A witcher asking a bard of noble background to add some silver flowers to his black shirts?

It would be stupid. He doesn't quite know why, but he's sure everyone would find a reason or two. Or worse, Jaskier would. He would laugh at him, clap him on the shoulder with his gentle hands, and those blue eyes would happily meet his before Jaskier declared Geralt insane. He would find a local healer simply on the grounds of, 'Help, my witcher has lost his mind. He wants nice things.'

Something inside him hopes that Jaskier wouldn't laugh at him. But he will never find out, because he is never going to ask.

Later that year, long after they separated, Geralt finds that two of his shirts are missing. He wracks his brain for their whereabouts – not that it really matters, but he is pretty sure he hasn't lost any more clothes to monster guts this past month, nor has he thrown out more than three that were barely being held together at the seams anymore. Coin is sparse and Geralt doesn't necessarily have any clothes to spare.

Maybe he lost them. Well, no use trying to figure it out when he has nothing to go by anyway, so he shrugs and shoulders his pack for the last part of the mountain trail to Kaer Morhen.

The answer comes to him when he doesn't even remember the question. It comes to him with nervous-looking blue eyes, brighter than the sky itself today, and a tentative gift.

"I... I don't know if you will like this? But I'm giving you today so that you can tell me to leave and it won't be in the middle of a Drowner-infested forest, but-- uh. I ended up with these in my pack, and I know it was an accident, probably, but when I saw them, I couldn't possibly just leave them, so I... Well, see for yourself?" It's weird, seeing Jaskier so incoherent and nervous. Well, usually when they meet again in spring, Jaskier is bubbly and showering Geralt with stories about all sorts of things he did and saw and heard over the winter months in Oxenfurt. He's bubbly and excited and often even tries for casual. But this? Nervous? Not once.

It is with trepidation, apprehension and curiosity that Geralt takes the very hastily wrapped package from lightly trembling hands, and when he looks up he sees that Jaskier is biting his lips.

Oh, this can't be good.

But when Geralt unwraps the thin paper, it reveals black fabric. Black fabric adorned with embroidery that he unmistakably recognises as Jaskier's, even though it is subtler now. The thread he chose is not golden or silver, but rather kept in dark grey and green and brown. The flowers are just as beautiful as those on Jaskier's own collar, but looking stronger, somehow, not as fragile and nimble. And when Geralt notices that Jaskier is fidgeting, moving his weight from one foot to the next, it dawns on him.

These are his shirts. The ones he'd been missing last winter, long after he and Jaskier had parted.

His shirts. His old, holey, threadbare shirts, barely more than rags. Except Jaskier took them and mended them, fixed them, made them pretty. For him.

"You hate it," Jaskier says, completely misreading his silence. "That's fine, really. I knew flowers aren't really your thing, maybe I should have made a wolf? Your medallion perhaps? Or, or swords! Gods, I'm such a moron, I should have gone with swords, Geralt, I am so sorry, I'm sure I can fix this, I—"

He doesn't get any further than that with his rambles because Geralt has wrapped his arms around his shoulders and pulled him against his chest in a crushing hug.

"Oh," Jaskier breathes and melts against him. "I take it, you like it, then? It's okay?"

This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for him. And Jaskier didn't do it because Geralt asked or because he saw the sorry state of Geralt's clothes and didn't want to be seen with him in public. No, he did it because... because he cares. Because he wanted to. Because he loves flowers and he thought that maybe Geralt deserved some, too.

"Yeah," Geralt breathes, his voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah, it's okay."

By the fucking Gods, he is about to cry. Over fucking shirts. Over little flowers and vines and leaves and endless amounts of care and affection that procured them. He's a witcher and he is crying because this is so overwhelmingly kind that he doesn't really know what to do with it.

"Wait, are you— Geralt," Jaskier sighs and buries deeper into him. "I never meant to make you cry," he says, his voice wavering, and it almost comes out as a laugh because maybe Jaskier is just as overwhelmed as he is.

"'M not crying." Though he isn't even fooling himself this time.

"Sure, dear heart," Jaskier chuckles. "I promise I won't tell anyone."

They stay in each other's arms for a while longer and Geralt breathes him in, only now realising how much he has missed Jaskier over the winter. He doesn't quite want to let go, and the bard seems content with that.

At some point, the air shifts. His hand moves from Jaskier's shoulder to the nape of his neck, and Jaskier's hold on him tightens in turn, though he starts to move. His fingers at first, starting with his thumb that is drawing circles on Geralt's back. Then his fingers move in accord, their patterns becoming bolder before Jaskier’s hand moves in slow circles along his spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake that Geralt hasn't felt in a while.

This is new. They have never touched like this. Have never hugged, never breathed each other in like this. And yet, here they are. Because never before has Jaskier given him a piece of his heart quite like that, just because he wanted to. Just because he thought Geralt deserved it.

He swallows, his fingers tentatively beginning to play with Jaskier's hair, afraid that if he makes one wrong move, the air will shift again and it will turn out that this is just another one of his dreams and that he doesn't deserve nice things after all.

But it's not, because he can feel Jaskier's racing heartbeat against his chest, and he can smell him, and he can hold him and not let go. And he can smile against Jaskier's neck and feel the answering smile in the way Jaskier hums, sending another shiver through him.

"Hey, Geralt?"

"Hmm?"

Jaskier swallows and for a second there's only the sound of his heartbeat that Geralt never knew was so addictive.

"I'm glad you like this. You deserve nice things." His voice is nothing but a rasp, but it's so genuine and caring that it takes Geralt's breath away.

The air shifts again and Geralt pulls back because he can't breathe right, can't feel the world around him anymore with Jaskier in his arms, and it's almost too much. But when he sees him, when he sees those blue eyes, glassy and wide and honest and so, so vulnerable, the world suddenly settles back into its place. And Geralt hums, his eyes moving from Jaskier's eyes to his lips.

"What," Jaskier whispers, though his body deceives him when his lips mirror Geralt's smile.

And that's when Geralt knows. Because that's when the world, newly settled, newly found, becomes just a little bit brighter.

"May I..." He swallows, trying to find his words in this new world. "May I kiss you?"

A beat passes where Jaskier is busy smiling, trying to find his words, and Geralt patiently waits for him. "You may," he says, and it's nothing more than a breath against his lips, but it's everything Geralt could possibly dream.

And so he captures Jaskier’s lips with his own like Jaskier has captured his heart, his mind, his whole new world.

tagging: @cthulhusteve @horsedadgeralt @luteandsword

#geraskier #the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #jaskier #geralt of rivia #geralt x jaskier #nat writes #LOOK THIS IS NOT ANGST OR HURT/COMFORT WHO AM I EVEN?#y'all having whiplash yet?#i have no regrets

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loveanoutcast · 4 years ago

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ok but I read games and I am ADDICTED and I just thought I could maybe request something like-

Eren meeting the reader through a simple comment and a timeskip to them being v close until they eventually end up in a fight because reader was ranting to eren about how perfect their crush (who is actually eren) is and him just exploding and them getting into a fight until the reader eventually goes "that person is you, dumbass!" Or smth like that and from there it all just turns into a lot of kisses and smut👀

only if you're comfy/in the mood of writing smth like this tho! just had this random thought last night and thought I'd request a little erenxfembodiedreader

Anyway have a nice day, night, afternoon, morning, you're amazing :D

Oh my gosh, this is my first request ever and I am so incredibly excited to write this and I really hope I did good in writing something you would want. Thank you so much for submitting this request, please feel free to send more! I love writing fanfics of any aot character and will do my absolute best to embody them in these. Sorry for the long wait, when I say the last chapter had me all the way FUCK3D up. EreMika is canon and I haven't been able to stop saying "He loved her, oh my god he loved her" in that "and they were roommates" vine way because that's my coping mechanism and it's cheaper than therapy. Anyway, I give you-

"Assumptions."

Pairing: Eren Yeager x Fem!reader

TW: nsfw, smut, angst, jealously, swearing, yelling, a bit of fluff, unprotected intercourse, breeding kink, a bit of voyeurism, a bit of sexism, eren being denser than a rock, Levi having health issues because he's old

Other: aot world if the mess of season four never happened and eren didn't fall to sad bitch hours, reader is a regular girl with family issues, all characters are over 18, Erwin never died and Floch never went insane

It wasn't that Eren hated going into town, but he wasn't exactly used to going to town alone. He always had Mikasa and Armin flanking either side of him but since the discovery of the world outside the walls and the decreased threat of titans, scouts were needed more than ever in the recovery of the lost districts. Mikasa was the second strongest soldier alive and Armin was expected to take after Erwin. Eren was useful when it came to being the one who possessed the attack and founder titan, but lately there was no big threats that required his titan abilities.

That didn't stop Hange from poking him, nor did it stop Captain Levi from keeping him busy with even the most minimalist of tasks. Today was no different and when the options were given to him and Jean, who was still asleep in his bunker, on shoveling horse shit or going into town to stock up on supplies and check to ensure all market suppliers weren't being capitalist pigs to the local vendors, Eren all but hauled ass through the door, hand swiping the grocery list off the table and yelling, "Good luck Jean-boy!"

Everything seemed to be going just fine, none of the local vendors had any troubles and most seemed happier with the drastic improvements of the living situations for Eldians. The fear of being eaten any day now or losing a loved one to war had seemed to be the driving force that had led to problems before. Some people recognized Eren, but no one seemed to want to approach him. He had had encounters with people who thought of him as a god, but he usually ignored them or kept a level-headed composure. Despite knowing that he had a power no one else had, outside of being a titan-shifter, Eren didn't really know what he had to offer. Armin was smart, Mikasa was strong, and he couldn't exactly claim titan-shifter seeing that Armin was also the colossal and Ymir had been the jaw.

He let out a sigh, kicking a rock in his path and silently yearning for something beyond his knowledge. Despite knowing that he was never really alone, he felt lonely a lot of the time. He had never given much thought to settling down, with the clock running out on him he often thought what was even the point? He wasn't sure if he wanted to keep being a soldier or if he wanted to go back home one day, he didn't really try to dwell on the future, content with being in the present and having Mikasa always on the verge of tears when she was reminded that he would one day die, didn't really give him room to think of much else.

You weren't oblivious to the tales and rumors that went around the town about the scouts and their secret weapon in the form of a shapeshifting man and how him and his comrades were able to plug the hole in the wall of a district your family had come from long ago. Your father had long since escaped the walls of Maria before it fell, he made an honest living being a construction man, and your mother was a nurse who happened to catch his eye when he had a roofing accident. They built a life for themselves within Wall Rose. You weren't the richest family, nor did you have a name that was well known. Nonetheless, you were all hard working. Your brothers worked for the respect they got, one being a weapon maker and the other being a bar keeper was enough for the part of town you were in. Even their wives did well for themselves in being a seamstress and bar waitress. As the youngest, you were loved and cared for. You weren't the most beautiful girl in town, but you turned heads nonetheless, well until one of your brothers decided to glare or promptly hit whoever doted on you too long for their liking.

The people who knew you, thought you were trouble. Mostly the elders spewed of you and your ways of thinking being a disgrace to everything Eldians stood for and bringing only shame to your gender, you were a woman ahead of her time and they couldn't stand it. Like your mother you had entered the medical field, but even when you were small you claimed you would be a doctor one day. You shadowed and worked under the supervision of the town's doctors. Many amused at your antics, some who didn't care about you being a girl and just grateful to leave such responsibility on someone who was genuine in the intent, and others not caring one way or another and not willing to hear your screeching pleads to observe what they did. Your mom had spoken with you more than once about settling with being a doctor's aide, today being no different and you let out a sigh as you looked to your mother's pained expression.

"I just don't understand why you insist on making your life so difficult? It was bad enough when you proudly exclaimed your goals in front of the entire church, but now this?"

You could only look away, looking towards the fields where you saw your third brother grooming the horses. You hadn't said anything bad, you were approached with a job offer that would give you the title and respect you had been desperately craving, and it would bring greater honor to your family...or so you thought before your mother reacted the opposite in which you hoped.

"I will not have any daughter of mine chasing dreams and fantasies off in some other place where no one can protect you. This is a suicide mission and I for one will not stand by and watch you march forward to your downfall."

Your father stood behind your mother, not really saying anything and not even looking at you. You felt especially bad for the commander and captain who stood on either side of you and were bearing witness to the absurd exchange between your family.

"Mrs. Y/L/N, you have to know that if Y/N were to accept this offer, she would never be in the front lines. We have bases located all throughout the walls and she would do what she did best and be our primary doctor." Commander Erwin spoke with such calm words, his demeanor kind and patient.

"So you expect me to let her run off with a bunch of men whose brains are broken from the wars they fought and not worry? She is not even married!"

You grit your teeth so hard upon hearing that, you were sick of the standards put forth on you since your birth. You were sick of the expectations you were in no hurry to reach and you were especially tired of the lack of faith your family had in you to be independent and strong. Your fists clenched and you felt a steady gaze on you.

"I'm not an expert or anything on parenting, nor will I act as if I am, but instead of yelling at her, why don't you try asking your daughter what she wants to do?" You didn't silence the gasp you released, looking at Captain Levi in confusion and admiration.

All eyes turned to you, your mother crossing her arms as if asking you to try and defy her. Erwin looked a bit expectedly and Levi looking indifferent to the entire conversation. It was your father who beat you to it before you could even open your mouth to answer.

"You have a choice, my daughter. If you choose to stay, you'll make your mother and brothers happy. You can continue to help people but you will never be acknowledged as a doctor...but you'll have your family. Or you can choose to leave and live your life to your own accord, but you will lose the respect of the town and your mother will never speak to you again. Are you willing to put yourself above your family?" You expected this from your father, always neutral and never judgmental, what he was saying was true after all. Were you willing to lose your family over your dreams? Would you be able to survive on your own with only the scouts to rely on?

Your head was hurting and your frustration only grew when your brothers decided to come home and after your mother wailing at them about your plans to leave, they were quick to overwhelm you with their own opinions. The commander and captain apologized but they had to leave and return to headquarters.

"Take your time on making your decision. We will come back in a few days for your answer." Commander Erwin told you, giving you a smile as he continued, "I know its a lot to ask you to choose us over your flesh and blood, but if you do. You have my promise that we will protect you, and we may never be able to fully replace your family in your heart, but the scouts will be a family on its own for you."

"Tch," Captain Levi shook his head, "Look brat, you will see and do things that you won't always like. People will die no matter how hard you try to save them, but call Erwin and Hange delusional--they see something in you. Don't walk into this half-assed, if you choose to be our doctor and you choose to take on the title and everything it carries with it, you have to dedicate your heart."

You only nodded. Two days had passed as you walked through the market, the small basket in your hands carried apples and some citrus fruits. Your mother still wasn't talking to you and your brothers seemingly assumed you wouldn't be leaving, only your father knew how frantic your mind was, and one morning he admitted that he would be delighted to have at least one of his children carry the family name on a military standing. So you had his support.

You even spoke to the animal doctor you had been shadowing for the past few weeks, his eyebrows had rose in an impressed matter and he promptly asked when you would be leaving.

"I haven't made a decision, yet." You said.

"You would be an idiot not to take it." Was all he replied before asking you to give the cattle their medicine.

Idiot, huh? You wondered. You knew deep down he was right. Your mind continued to play in endless loops of thought before you heard a commotion to your right. Turning your head you saw a group of men, their huddling seemed a bit more frantic and it was not until one of them yelled that you noticed one man in particular on his knees.

"Help! Someone call a doctor!"

The man on the floor was bleeding rather profusely and you didn't have time to question what happened before you quickly made way.

"Sir, let me see."

"Hey! Woman don't touch him!"

"Make yourself useful and go get a doctor! What the hell do you think you're doing!"

"I am a doctor." You calmly said, inspecting the gash on his side and seeing the edge of what appeared to be a broken pipe sticking out from the building behind them. The drips if bloods glistening in the sun only confirmed what you thought.

"We were-" The injured man rasped out, "Just horsing around."

"It's okay." You reassured, grabbing a roll of gauze and stack of medical napkins you always kept in your basket. You apologized before applying pressure to the wound, and you heard the patter of rushing feet.

"A doctor is on his way! A real one!" One of the men sneered, and you did your best not to roll your eyes and focus on stopping the bleeding. You asked the man to lie on his back and he surprisingly complied, he didn't seem to care about you being a girl and only seemed thankful to not be alone and scared.

"Do you hear that? Move before you kill him!" The first man hollered, the hand on your shoulder causing you to sharply inhale.

"Excuse me for one moment." You told the man, and you were quick as you hand shot up to grip the disrespectful ass by his wrist and twist it in one fluid motion, you wasted no time in using the building wall as leverage, quickly running up and using his weight to stabilize yourself before you roundhouse kicked him so hard it sent both of you flying back. You landed on one foot, balancing yourself before going back to the patient.

You couldn't deny how satisfying it was to hear the impact, or the groan of pain coming from him. Your eyes met the others.

"If any of you touch me, I'll do exactly what I did to your buddy there, but ten times worse. Now shut the hell up and let me save this man."

Eyes widely stared at you as you resumed caring for the injured, a few minutes passed by the time the doctor got there.

"Oh!" His eyebrows rose, "Hello Y/N, didn't expect to see you here. If I would have known, I wouldn't have left the hospital on its own."

"Hi Dr. Goodwin," You looked up, two fingers on the injured man's wrist and the other held up four fingers from your counting. You blushed slightly from his confidence in you and you noticed the men who bullied you all sport faces of confusion.

"His pulse is stable. I wrapped the wound tightly, but he needs stitches."

"Thank you, miss." The injured man grabbed your hand and you smiled in return.

"Don't mention it."

"Actually, it's Dr. Y/L/N." Dr. Goodwin said, seeing your eyes widen and the smile he gave only made your heart swell that much more.

The doctor nodded, thanking you before asking his helpers to load him to the small gurney they brought. He could only thank you briefly before you waved them off. The other guys had stayed back, eyes wide in disbelief that the doctor not only recognized you, but acknowledged your work.

"Are you a nurse or something?"

"Are you morons deaf? Did you not hear Dr. Goodwin? I'm a doctor too."

The leader seemed to recover from the kick you gave him earlier as his lip curled in an ugly matter, "What kind of sick joke is that? No such thing as a woman doctor."

"Obviously there is if I'm standing right in front of you. Or did my kick knock a few more scews loose?"

Eren was walking buy, noticing the commotion from afar and as a soldier, his instincts to provide help in dire situations kicked in. He elbowed his way to the front. Seeing you standing defiantly in front of five tall muscular men. He stepped forward as the main leader got in your face, but when you shifted your foot, he seemed to coil back. Eren noticed a giant welt on one side of his face and wondered how the hell he got such an ugly bruise. It didn't stop their onslaught.

"Who the hell do you think you are? What makes you think you could do whatever the fuck you want?"

"Because in this world, I'm free to do whatever the fuck I please." Eren watched as your eyes narrowed in further defiance, the smile on your face sickeningly sweet and all he could think about was how he had never seen such a woman.

You hadn't even noticed the audience that gathered, you side stepped the group of men, going as far as waving a goodbye with a breathy giggle, you picked up your basket. You had a small hop to your step and despite not caring to even spare a glance to the onlookers, your eyes met a pair of pretty green ones. The prominent bone structure made you think, "Wow."

However, the tall muscular body you did a once over on had you follow that thought with, "Oh damn."

Eren seemed dumbfounded, your obviousness in checking him out made him flush. He had never felt self-conscious over his body. He knew even before he hit puberty that he would do well to grow muscles and abs, the necessary type of figure to have if one were to be a soldier of the scouts. He knew it was also something some females found attractive in the opposite sex but it's not like he ever had time to date much less dwell on what girls liked. Seeing the way you looked at him though, he couldn't deny that he silently hoped for your approval.

When you finally met his eyes once more, you had him floored when he saw you drop a wink at him.

The crowd murmuring as they watched you go made his own eyebrows furrow in confusion. He stepped to one of the members and demanded an explanation.

"Honestly, the little lady was crazy! She came in here claiming to be a doctor and helped patch up a guy who got cut by the pipe over there. Instead of waiting for a real doctor, she made a whole fuss."

"Where's the guy?"

"Dr. Goodwin picked him up. That doctor is mad too, he also said she was a doctor, but that's ridiculous. No woman can be a doctor. That's so many levels of wrong."

Eren felt the urge to punch the man in the mouth, but one glance at the ugly bruise his friend sported reminded him,

"What happened to your face?"

The leader grumbled a bunch of profanities, "That little bitch. I tried to get her off before she messed the guy up anymore and she kicked me."

"In your face?" Eren sounded impressed, and he was when he received a nod of confirmation.

He looked to the direction which you disappeared in and said fine words to the group, "Whether you men like it or not. The world is changing, everyone is free to be who they want. If women can join the military no problem, they can be doctors too."

He saluted before rushing off, not hearing the mutters of annoyance from the men. In all honestly, Eren had no clue on what he was doing.

You were scrubbing off the blood from under your fingernails near a fountain when you hear the shuffle of feet from behind you. You silently hoped it wasn't any of those morons asking for more trouble, but you were pleasantly surprised when your eyes met a pair of green ones from before.

"I'm Eren." You smiled at him, nodding and your smile turned quirked when he stuttered in, "Yeager. Eren Yeager."

Hmm, you had thought, His name suits him. You studied his demeanor, not missing the gear strapped to either sides of his hips or the green hood covering his shoulders. You knew immediately that he was a scout and you wondered if he knew Captain Levi. Before you got the courage to ask him, he beat you to it.

"What did you mean by what you said earlier? Do you really think that? That we're all free to do anything we want here?"

You smiled as you nodded, walking towards a vendors stand and Eren fell into step beside you, you felt nervous around him, but also safe with his company. He watched you as you picked up another apple to inspect.

"We have laws and rules though...so we're not technically all the way free?"

"I'm free to be me, just as you are free to be you...Eren...Yeager."

It was the way the sun hit your face in that moment, highlighting your strong cheekbones and giving a special glint in your eyes that made Eren want to hear your thoughts more. He spent the rest of the day asking you questions, never satisfied with the small responses you gave him and he even walked you home. The mean glare from your mother confused him beyond belief and it was your father's words that made you gasp in surprise that night.

"He's the titan shifter, the one who helped plug up wall Rose."

Your face had turned red in embarrassment, you were talking so casually to a literal titan and you even flirted with him. He even held your basket the entire trip to your house and you didn't even consider how informal you acted with your skirt. You had hitched one of them up your thigh to get better footing and hadn't missed the way Eren blushed at seeing so much skin. You knew the girls in the scouts wore pants, but even then they kept covered.

You were certain Eren wanted nothing else to do with a girl who held little to no morals, but you were caught by pleasant surprise when you saw him with Erwin and Levi the next day in town.

His eyes had immediately found yours and you didn't miss the blush on his cheeks as he gave you a small wave. You couldn't but laugh when Captain Levi suddenly kicked him.

"Who's got you turning red brat?"

"Uh-it's nothing, captain."

He didn't look convinced as you gathered the courage to approach. Erwin acknowledged your presence which Eren was grateful for, but his eyebrows still came down in confusion on how the commander knew your name.

"Y/N!" Erwin gave a polite smile which you returned, "So great to see you. We were actually just about to stop by your house."

"Really? What a coincidence, I was hoping to stop by headquarters today as well." Your smile was bright, and by the way the air around you seemed cheerful, Erwin returned your energy.

"Bearing good news I hope?" He still hesitantly asked.

You nodded as you laughed, "I would love to accept the offer if it still stands."

"Of course it does," Captain Levi scoffed, his arms were folded across his chest. You noted for the first time the soft grey color of his eyes and despite the deep scowl he was currently showing, he had chubby cheeks that made you want to squish, "We wouldn't be coming all this way for nothing."

"I thought we were coming to collect a new scout, Captain Levi." Eren asked, you felt yourself blush in realization that he had no clue it was actually you they were referring to.

"We are," Levi grabbed you by your arm and yanked you towards him as he pointed at you while looking at Eren like he was an idiot, "Meet the scout's new doctor. Dr. Y/L/N meet Eren-"

"Yeager." You finished, smiling towards Eren, "We've met."

Erwin and Levi exchanged looks as they watched you and Eren smiled at each other like a pair of idiots, the realization dawning over them and Erwin couldn't fight the smirk that crossed his face. Small world, he thought.

Six months had passed since the first fateful encounter you had with Eren. You had long since moved out of your home and besides the occasional secret letter from your father, you hadn't heard nor seen the rest of your family since your decision to become a doctor for the scouts.

It was a transition to go through as you lost one family and gained a new one, but everyone was so accepting and welcoming. The girls welcomed you with open arms, most notably was Sasha whose habit of eating everything and anything brought her to the infirmary on more than one occasion, Connie usually followed right behind her with a minor injury resulting from his carelessness. You had met Floch when he brought Jean in from a sparring session gone wrong and he immediately took a liking to you. Your level-headedness was like a breath of fresh air to him as he was constantly sorrounded by people he thought were idiots. Jean liked your confidence (The fact that you were easy on the eyes, didn't hurt either), Mikasa respected the way you didn't hesitate to put people in their place, and Armin admired that despite your obvious toughness, you were a kind and patient doctor who never turned anyone away. You were diligent and hard-working, yet your smile was always able to uplift any sour mood and you always put your best foot forward. The one time he had puked all over your hospital floor from eating too much undercooked meat was embarrassing for him, he thought for sure you were going to be angry and call him an idiot. Instead, you took his temperature, put a cold cloth on his head (despite his titan status guaranteeing a speedy recovery), and started a healthier diet plan for him. Armin was scheduled a weekly checkup with you, partly to ensure he was listening and partly for you to study him a bit more. Your research on the titan's ability to regenerate and recover from even the worst injuries was fascinating for you, you hoped to isolate the genes and figure out a way to maybe trigger it in regular Eldians without setting off the titan ability, the fact that Eren made it a habit to accompany Armin didn't hurt either.

Eren had grown attached to you, whenever he wasn't busy or in need of a place to hide from Captain Levi's wrath or Hange's insistence to poke and prod him, he would be hanging out around you or in your office. At one point you had to hide him under your desk when Commander Erwin stopped by to hold a meeting with you about providing first aid training to the scouts for excursions. You were always welcomed to accompany them outside the walls, but your work was enough to make you stay. You recalled the way Eren was pressed against your legs, the feel of his hands steadying himself on your calves and when your skirt had shifted up when you reached for one of the records, you felt Eren brush his fingertips along the muscle. You had stammered the rest of the meeting through and smacked him afterwards for putting you in such a compromising position. You were blushing furiously at the way he gave such a boyish grin and even that night while he walked you to your small cottage, he had a satisfied smile in place.

You always knew you liked Eren, you were also hopeful that the feeling was mutual. The both of you had grown close over the course of your stay, as the head doctor you were given your own living quarters, not too far from headquarters but not so close to the city that you would be given a hard time. Your cottage was fair in size and with the amount of income you were receiving, you were quick to furnish and decorate it to your liking. Eren had even helped by adding his own touches to the interior. The times you would go to the city with him was always met with many curious stares. Your age and gender made many turn heads when you walked in, the fact that you were the youngest and by far prettiest doctor the scouts had ever had made people naturally gravitate to you. Your ability to make friends quickly also made it that almost every weekend you were entertaining guests at your house. Sometimes it would be dinner with Sasha, Niccolo, and Connie. Other times you would be knitting and embroidering with Mikasa and Armin, there was even game nights with everyone until Jean and Eren became too competitive with one another. Other times when the higher ups had meetings (All of which you had to attend since you technically held an officer position within the military branch) you would offer your house where you all shared cups of tea and your famous baked goods. You had even seen Captain Levi grab seconds on your sugar cookies.

It was the times when Eren would swing by alone that caused your heart to flutter, he would walk you home almost every night now. At first he would find the poorest excuses to see you like needing a bandaid for his wrist from the biting (even though by the time you gave him the gauze it would be healed over completely) or try to "casually" be around the area when you would get out at three in the morning. Eventually your amusement turned to you asking him to walk you home every night under the guise that you were afraid of being targeted or hurt, even though everyone had seen you body-slam Reiner the one time he tried to hit on you when you were stitching up his eyebrow from an ugly gash. Nonetheless, Eren accepted. You would invite him in for tea every time and he would even bring you lunch on days he failed to see you in the cafeteria. It seemed like everyone under the sun knew about you and Eren's crushes on one another, so it was also a pain in the ass that neither of you had yet to make a move on one another. Even Erwin had assumed you two were together the one morning he stopped by your house on your day off to ask for your aid for a soldier who had broken their arm from a training exercise, his eyes had grown wide upon seeing you open the door in only your nightgown, you were rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you invited him in for breakfast.

Upon walking in, he immediately saw Eren exiting your bathroom in his casual jeans, his hair was wet and sticking up from the steam of the shower. Eren wasn't wearing a shirt and before Erwin could excuse himself completely you quickly explained how you hadn't wanted him to walk outside so late so he slept on your couch. You were washing his clothes and had left them out to dry and Erwin could only nod and stop himself from suggesting for Eren to bring spare clothes to yours, remembering that it wasn't his place to push or even encourage his team's doctor and titan-shifter to date even though by the way he saw you put jelly on Eren's toast while he made your cup of tea with three sugars was enough for him to almost just order the two of you to date. Instead, he gave a long rant to Levi, wondering aloud whether Eren was either oblivious to your affections or just an idiot, Levi only replied with, "Did you happen to bring any of the toast she made?"...he did and Levi later on answered, "He's just an idiot." while licking the excess jelly off his fingers.

It was another day at headquarters, the mid-summer day was hot and since the flow of traffic had been slow inside the infirmary, you found yourself mostly in the officer's lounge. You had opted to wear a long sleeve empire waist dress, the top had ruffles along your collar and the soft pink of the dress complimented your skin tone. It fell around mid-thigh and the black shoes you wore with them completed your overall look. Eren had stared at your bare legs for a while until he noted your haircut. You had only cut off the ends but your heart did a flip as you blushed from him noticing. You had been chatting with Hange about your research while Moblit spoke to Eren about the new set of routes to be taken during their next trip beyond the walls when Captain Levi walked in. Hange waved him over and he fell easily beside you.

"Hey." His arm brushing against yours and you hummed in response, leaning a bit towards him which didn't go unnoticed by Eren.

"Levi, did you take your medicine this morning?" About two weeks ago you had caught the captain asleep at his desk for the fourth time. You knew he overworked himself and refused to sleep in his bed no matter how many therapeutic pillows you got him, but while he was out like a light you decided to check his blood pressure, only to find it alarmingly high. You figured the amount of stress and cups of caffeinated tea were to blame. Levi kept in good shape, but considering his age and the fact that he never even considers laughing, you prescribed him medications to be take every morning and cut him off from his usual tea leaves. The former was easier to push as the calcium and magnesium capsules were easy to swallow, it was getting rid of all the tins in his desk that made him a bit unbearable to the new recruits.

He let out an annoyed grunt as he nodded. Your smile was soft as you put an encouraging hand on his arm and Eren was officially not listening to Moblit anymore.

"Thanks for sticking to your diet, Captain Levi. As a token of my appreciation, I got you these." You didn't let him reply, quick to act as always as you reached into the small basket you had brought and grabbed his hand to put the gray tin of loose leaves that you took out in his palm.

As usual, the captain was unfazed by your lack of appreciation for personal space. The past few weeks had done well to teach him how despite being yelled at, threatened, and even outright ignored at times, your cheeriness was impossible to diminish and you did whatever the heck you wanted even when it was at times impulsive.

"What is it?" He looked between you and the tin, the slight sneer on his upper lip making you release a giggle before you tapped the bow you tied on it.

"It's tea leaves." He raised a slim eyebrow which made you roll your eyes, "Decaffeinated tea."

"Let me guess, it tastes like shit." His eyes flickered to the purple bow, "Or it'll make me shit."

You laughed, you upper body leaning on his as you attempted to catch your breath. The joke wasn't that funny but the face he made was. You giggled as you shook your head and Hange watched in bemusement as you elaborated,

"It's the tea I always serve and judging by the three cups you had last time, I'm positive you'll like it."

Levi let out a nod, he hadn't even noticed that the tea you served had no caffeine but the heavy notes of honey in it probably explained its sweetness. He gave a quiet thank you before his scowl returned,

"So that's why I was on the crapper all night after the last meeting."

"With a potty mouth like that, it's not wonder you don't have a girlfriend." You deadpanned.

"I feel bad for the poor bastard who falls in love with you."

You let out a small tsk, smiling at him and hoping Eren heard as you said, "Well that depends if he admits he feels the same way."

Captain Levi quirked an eyebrow at you, his eyes knowing and you blushed under his stare. Your fingers fiddling behind your back and Eren hated the way Levi suddenly chuckled at you. His smile was a rarity and to have him giving it to you only meant one thing to Eren; the captain liked you.

"So there is someone you like? Who's the poor brat?"

When you were about to make another snide remark, Hange cut in and excused herself and Moblit.

"As fascinating as this is, there's a captured titan waiting my arrival and if I don't get to use this research Dr. Y/L/N just gave me before nightfall, I will lose my mind."

"I hadn't heard of us ever finding it to begin with." Levi sighed, taking a lock of your hair between his fingers and letting the curl bounce back before he excused himself to tag along with them.

"Someone's got to make sure four eyes doesn't get killed."

"That's why Moblit is going with her." You noted.

"And who do you think will make sure Moblit doesn't get killed?" He smiled once more, "Laters doc."

You waved goodbye to the three, the door clicking behind them and you turned to see Eren with his arms crossed. He was pouting like a child and you wondered what his deal was. You figured with your earlier comment, he would be over the moon to hear you hinting at liking him. You skipped up to him, getting on the tips of your toes as you poked his cheek.

"What's the matter? You look like a scolded child."

"Nothing." He muttered, looking away as his jaw clenched and you only poked him once more.

"Liar." You called him out, "Talk to me."

"You didn't answer Captain Levi's question."

You were sure that there was a giant question mark on top of your head, the gear in your mind shifting as you tried to recall what the captain asked before your mouth opened in realization. You couldn't help but smile as you looked down at Eren's shoes and he only seemed to grow angrier as he watched you blush.

"About my crush? Oh! Well I wouldn't call him a brat, but I guess his attitude could often warrant that title. He's got this sort of this determined mentality that I guess some people can find...overbearing." You played with the cuff of your dress, "But I personally find it charming."

"So he's charming?"

You hummed as you smiled, "He's a bit rough around the edges, but he always means well. He's easy on the eyes too. Got really nice hair and pretty colored eyes that makes me swoon around him. Not to mention his body looks like Zeus could be his father." To add emphasis, your body leaned side to side as you laughed.

Eren snorted, his eyes rolling as he thought of any guy he knew that was like you described. All he could think of was Captain Levi and Erwin. He hated to think of Levi as charming, but he was rough all around. Erwin had eyes that Historia had once described as pretty, but to think of you being attracted to someone as old as him made his stomach flip.

"Want to head back to my office?" You suggested, not wanting to leave Eren's side until he figured it out but also not wanting to stick around in case other officers walked in. You got a stiff nod and wanted to giggle when Eren still opened the door for you. As the both of you walked through the large building, you added a hop to your step as you continued,

"He's also such a gentleman. He respects me, he's never intimidated by my sharp wit, always opens doors for me, waits until I'm sitting before he starts eating, and he almost seems proud of me being a doctor. He's just so understanding and sure of himself as a man that I guess the idea of having a girlfriend in my position would never make him feel inferior." You turned to look at Eren sideways and noticed his shoulders hunched, you knew it was cruel how you kept teasing him but were hopeful that it would click for him soon, so you went on.

"Wow, sounds like a real keeper." He grumbled, now thinking of Jean or even Connie. Armin was too occupied with Annie and Reiner was too obsessed with Historia to hang around you. There was no way Beruto/Borrito/Bertoto would catch your eye as you had made it a point to always get his name wrong, but Connie made you laugh and Jean was always extra nice to you.

"I'm telling you, I think he's perfect. He's dependable, strong, and we share so many of the same ideas. I could talk to him for hours and never be bored and when I'm not with him, I feel...sad. I just constantly want to be by his side and if I'm not I want him to be thinking about me because that's exactly what I do."

You both entered your office, you walked up to your desk as you spoke, turning around and leaning against it to look at Eren. He had closed your door a little harder than necessary, the wood shaking against the frame as he crossed his arms and leaned his back on the door. He looked downright irritated and you bit your lip to keep from laughing.

"So why haven't you told him?"

You shrugged, "I think I've been pretty obvious about it, I'm always smiling when he's in the room, I always want to be with him, there's never a day where we don't walk together. I even wore this dress for him today."

You waved down at your figure, Eren's eyes looked over you twice and you jumped up on your desk, your thighs parting as you let the short skirt cover your panties and barely cover the tops of your thighs.

"I'm sure he'll love it." Eren spit out.

"I don't know..." You tilted your head, "Do you?"

Eren pushed himself off the door, going to your bookcase and letting his fingers brush the spines of the books, "It doesn't matter what I think. I'm not Mr. Pretty eyes. Sounds like a simpleton to me."

You let out an actual deep sigh and Eren met you with furrowed brows.

"What?"

"You're so fucking dense, Eren."

"What did I say?" He threw his hands up, "Just because I called him simple? I'm so sorry I don't care to hear you go on and on about this guy. I never thought I'd see you bend over backwards for some guy who opens doors for you. I thought you would have higher standards than that."

You let out a snort, "Keep talking Yeager, and I just might higher them."

"I mean I never thought looks would be so important to you. It's so-"

"So what?" Your tongue had a sharp edge that did not go unnoticed by Eren. He stood only a few feet from your desk, but you saw the awkward shift in his posture.

"Shallow." He spit out.

"Excuse me?" You gave him a look that said if he wouldn't apologize in the next ten seconds, he would surely live to regret it.

"What I mean is...what guy could possibly have this head over heels and you're just now telling me? I thought...I thought we-" He stopped, looking to the side and you relaxed before saying,

"We what, Eren?"

"I thought we had something special." He muttered. He looked to see your mouth opened in a small gasp and he began to turn to exit when you quietly beckoned him over.

"Eren...come here."

"No, I should g-"

"Please." You begged and the look in your eyes brought him to stand in front of you. Your hands reached for his shirt, yanking him forward and you hooked your legs around his calves. Eren gaped at you, not knowing what to do and say as you put one hand on his shoulder and the other cupped his cheek.

"You are such a dumbass." You laughed, "The person I've been going on and on about, that simpleton you bashed, is you. It's always been you, Eren."

It was like watching a light flicker on very very slowly, but once it was on you watched as embarrassment flooded Eren. His smile was sheepish and stupid as he stuttered over his words. His hands rested on your hips and you stroked his face from his temple to jaw as you asked,

"Do you maybe feel the same way?"

You didn't get a verbal answer, the sudden kiss Eren laid on you was an answer enough. His lips were soft and warm as they moved against your own, his tongue enveloped yours and you felt him lean more onto you. The moan that slipped out his mouth when you bit his bottom lip made something tighten in your stomach.

When you two finally broke apart you didn't miss the trail of saliva that connected the two of you and you whimpered for more. The second kiss was heavier, a clash of teeth and tongues as Eren feverishly wrestled to touch you everywhere his hands could reach. You felt him press against your core, the loud gasp you let out made him look at you in concern.

"Sorry, sorry. I'll stop if you want me to."

You shook your head as you met those green eyes that held you captive since day one, "More. I want more."

The smirk was something you had never seen, his eyes became half-lidded as Eren kissed your nose. Then your chin, then your neck. When he reached your collar, his finger hooked onto the top of your dress, pulling the fabric down as he kissed just above your breast.

"She wants more." He said to himself, the soft rasp in his voice made you attempt to close your legs. His hands pushed what little that had covered your legs up and Eren's fingers brushed your core.

The jump you gave made his smirk grow, "I haven't even touched you yet."

He saw the small patch of dampness on your panties, and before you could ask him what he was doing, you let out a sharp gasp when his fingers pushed the fabric to the side and he plunged two fingers into your pussy.

The moan he ripped from you was like music to his ears and as he began to slowly pump his fingers in and out he watched as your face became hot and red. It was uncomfortable as first, you could even say it hurt but that didn't stop you from rocking your hips up to meet his eager hands. You weren't entirely prepared as you felt a bit tense as Eren kissed your neck, the suckling on your flesh making small breathy whimpers leave your mouth. His other hand's fingers hovered over the buttons on the back of your dress and his eyes asked for permission as he glanced up at you.

A small tentative nod was all he received before he took out his hand from between your legs, his tongue skillfully licking the digits cleaned and you didn't think you would find such an act so erotic. You arm hooked around his neck as you brought him down to a kiss, you could taste yourself on his lips as he kissed you back eagerly, his fingers skillfully working the buttons on your dress and you wondered for a brief moment if he had ever done such an act before. You pushed the thoughts away, not wanting to lose focus or confidence while in the middle of being with Eren by letting unnecessary insecure creep into your heart. As if being able to read your mind, Eren said-

"Stop being in your head," A hard kiss against your lips, "Be here with me."

His nose rubbed sweetly against yours, fingers tilting your head up as you gave a hesitant nod. Your eyes wanted to focus anywhere but his eyes and you could felt warmth spread across your cheeks when the sleeves of your dress fell down your arms. The idea of letting Eren see all of you was as exciting as it was nerve-wrecking, the most he ever saw was your legs and back from that one time you walked out of the bath in only a towel. Seeing him shirtless was not new but you still felt your breath catch in your throat as you watched him yank the material off. Your hands explored the newly exposed skin, fingers dipping in every curve of muscle and your hand rested just above the waistband of his jeans. You noticed his breathing grow heavy, Eren's head falling forward on your exposed shoulder where you felt him nip and suck on the soft flesh. You returned the favor by kissing him on the chest, your eyes still casted downwards as you fumbled with the buckle on his belt, you let out a small curse from how hard your hands were shaking and Eren placed a gentle hand on top of yours, his eyes alight with amusement as his lips curved into a soft smile.

"Baby, relax." He murmured, he pushed your hands aside as he took over the task. You let out a deep breath as you heard the sound of his zipper being tugged down and you decided to be bold. You lowered the upper half of your dress, the cotton falling off your arms with ease and you blushed furiously once you remembered that you hardly ever wore bras and today was no different.

Your nipples were taut as you shivered from the cold air in your office and Eren stared at you in wonder his eyes raking your body as you looked to the side and brought your bottom lip in between your teeth.

"Fuck, can I touch you?" Eren blurted, his hands still near his trousers and you giggled when he added a last second, "Please."

Nodding, you figured it was time to stop feeling so shy. You had been dreaming about this moment for months, yet as the man you loved stood before you, eager to be with you, all you could think about was how scared you were that you wouldn't be enough to satisfy him.

One more glance at the way he watched you was enough for you to think, If he really didn't, he wouldn't be looking at me as if I put all the stars in the sky.

You felt the second wind of confidence hit you and you took Eren by surprise as you hooked your fingers on his belt loops and tugged the fabric down. You palmed him through the thin material of his briefs and his hips jerked from the contact before he melted against you. Lowering the elastic, your small hand wrapped itself around his shaft and you took a moment to admire his dick. It was something new and foreign to you, for a moment you wondered if all male penises looked like that but you pushed that thought aside as you found yourself not really wanting to ever know, as long as Eren's would be the only one you saw. You hand moved up and down, your thumb brushing across his tip as you swiped some of the liquid leaking out to use as lube.

You knew he was a few inches above average, the thickness was also enough to make you worry for a moment whether he would be able to fit in you as his fingers struggling to push inside of you were of any indication of how tight your body was. Either way you were determined to satisfy the both of you, the idea of him using you and watching his face come apart as he milked himself dry using only your pussy had your head feeling fuzzy with want. He rested his head on you, causing your body to lean back and you pressed one palm on your desk behind you and the other jerked him off a bit sloppily. His moans filled the space of your office, you secretly prayed to the gods that the scouts could be smart enough for once to not be injured or to be able to at least handle it themselves and your eyes flickered to the door for a moment.

"Eren," You murmured to the shell of his ear, his heavy breaths fanning across the span of your chest and you felt both your bodies getting hot. "The door, we need to lock the door."

His groan was the only response you got as he trailed kisses up your neck and shoulder, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes, he was such a guy sometimes. You began to lower yourself from the desk before his hand on your leg suddenly halted your movements and he gave you a lazy smile, his half lidded eyes softly rolling as he let out an obnoxious groan of annoyance.

"I'll do it." He didn't even bother to tuck himself back into his briefs, his dick fully erect as he made way to your door. You felt your hand falling to your side and you bit your lip as you thought about what you wanted to do twice before letting your own hand push the fabric of your underwear to the side once more. You rubbed at your clit lazily as you softly moaned, your eyes closing at the sensation and you smiled when you heard the soft, "Shit." coming from a few feet ahead of you. Eren's eyes were transfixed on you, the way your head rolled back as your moans became louder and higher pitched was making him painfully hard and he wanted-no needed to be inside of you before he was sure he would come right then and there.

Your eyes were still closed when you felt him settle between your legs once more, eyes hazy and smile lazy as you felt him tug your panties down your legs. Your ass lifted briefly to help and you giggled when he grunted in annoyance from having to shuffle backwards to slip them off completely. He laughed with you as his hand cupped you by your jaw, lips finding yours in a tender kiss and the hand that had been rubbing at your clit was used to steady yourself by his shoulder. His muscles flexed under your touch and your breaths intermingled as he stared at you with such an intensity that you felt your stomach flip. You looked down to where he rubbed his length along your folds and gulped.

"I-I'm nervous." You admitted, cheeks blushing and Eren kissed your temple.

"It's okay, I'll take care of you. Do you trust me?" You gasped at the intensity in his eyes, Eren Yeager was one who never beat around the bush and you felt tears pool around your eyes as you nodded. Everything leading up to this moment overwhelmed you suddenly, losing your family, gaining your dream job, becoming independent so quickly, and falling in love with a man who turned into what so many feared but who let you place` flower crowns on his head during tea parties. He continued to maintain eye contact with you, your lips parting and eyes partly closing as he began to push past your labia. It all felt too much, but you wouldn't want to be anywhere else in that exact moment Eren pressed his tip into your passageway. There was a bit of resistance and the guttural moan he released made your eyes widen in an audible gasp, he looked ethereal with reddened cheeks, a slacked opened jaw, eyes that looked close to tears, and thin layer of sweat making his dark brown locks stick to his forehead.

He pushed another inch in, trying his best to not act too quickly or too harshly. All he wanted to do was fucking ruin you. Mark you as his by impregnating you and watching as you took every drop of his semen. It seemed you wanted it too as your hips jerked forward and took in another inch.

"Eren, please." You had no idea what you were asking for, he was being slow and gentle and as much as you appreciated his mindfulness, it had been six long months and if you had to go through another night of humping your pillow or rubbing one out with only fantasies of Eren touching you (Sometimes even Levi, depending on how much alcohol you had consumed) you were gong to scream.

Another inch and a deep chuckle was his response. Your eyes were set ablaze as the realization that he was teasing you.

"Please what baby?"

"Give it to me." You whispered, your hand tugging at his hair harshly and the hiss of pain he released was simultaneous when he completely thrusted his entire length into you. Your thighs jerked at the sudden intrusion and the cry you let out was loud enough that if anybody were nearby, the would have assumed someone struck you. Your hand smacked against his chest, your breath ragged as you attempted to give Eren an angry glance but your pussy betrayed you as it clenched hard around him.

You both released a gasp when Eren fully bottomed out inside you. His hips flush against your parted thighs and your foreheads pressed against one another, lips brushing but not kissing yet as you two came to terms of what was being done. You and Eren were one, there was no going back from what was about to transpire and you silently prayed that he wouldn't regret it later.

"Stop being in your head," He murmured against your mouth, eyes looking into yours, "Be here..."

He gave a heavenly thrust and you felt his arms wrap themselves around your waist as he forced you to fall back onto your desk with a small uff and your hands fell onto his shoulders. Your legs locked around his waist and the new angle caused him to be deeper inside you, but he continued to stare at your with that same admiration from that day he had met you.

"With me."

You nodded slowly, kissing Eren for what felt like the first time. A bit shyly and unsure as your mouth moved against his slowly, you savored the taste of tea and something sweet from his tongue and you let one of your hands hold him by his face as the other found solace in his hair.

Eren began to thrust into you, the rhythm a bit off at first as you two tried to find what worked and when he dipped his hips a little and heard the string of filthy words leaving your mouth, he gave a knowing smirk.

"Hmm, right there princess?"

You panted, your tongue lolling out as his began to go faster. One of your hands shot out to the side to brace yourself on something when Eren began to fuck you harder and instead you turned to see you hand knocked your bottle of ink over, the deep blue liquid was spilling everywhere but before you could let your brain process the mess, Eren began to suck on the flesh of your neck that you exposed when you moved your head. You moaned as you closed your eyes at the overwhelming sensations of it all, your hands grabbing at the muscles in his back and you arched your own and pressed your chest into him.

"Oh fuck," Eren moaned out, "This pussy is so good. You're taking me so well, princess."

"Yeah?" You panted out, "Going to cum in me, baby?"

Eren picked himself up on his forearms, too preoccupied with how pretty your tits looks bouncing with each thrust to notice the your hair was sprawled all over and the upper part of his arm was touching something wet, he figured it was the sweat you two were producing with your coupling.

"I'm gonna get you pregnant, make you mine forever."

"I'm yours!" You screamed as his hips slammed particularly harder down onto your own.

"Choke me, make me a mommy, cum in me, just please don't stop fucking me." You cried out, and a new sort of excitement showed in his eyes, his hand cupped just below your jaw and the light pressure he put on you made you moan louder.

The sounds of skin smacking, panting breaths, and heavy moans filled the air. Eren coaxing you to come all over his dick as you begged him to not pull out of you echoed of the walls of your office. You went on like that for a good while and you giggled in realization that your silent wish for everyone to leave the two of you alone for a while had come true.

Unbeknownst to you two, there had almost been three interruptions. The first being Captain Levi who wanted to ask if mixing his blood pressure medicine with wine would be too dangerous, but when he heard you scream he almost barged in before the unmistakable moan that followed made him fully come to a halt. He didn't even think twice about what was transpiring, briefly remembering that Eren was in fact with you this morning before quickly turning around and hauled ass as far from the hallway as he could. He wasn't sure where he was heading before he stumbled into Erwin's office, the commander looking up to see his captain look like he just ran a marathon.

"Levi? You look like you just saw a ghost?" His eyebrows creased, "Are you okay?"

"Yeager isn't as dense as we thought."

Eren stood to his full height, grabbing at your ankles and moving your legs onto his shoulders to they were fully parallel to his body. You let out another giggle at how your ankles were now on either side of his head, but the small kiss he gave your right one made you let out a noise of adoration. He gripped your hips, smiling as he noted the streaks of something blue all over your chest and neck but decided against telling you as your pussy began to pulsate around him. There was no way in hell he was going to stop you from orgasming.

The second time was Sasha and Connie as they wanted to ask if eating candies with the wrapper still on was anything they needed to worry about, but the sounds of your desk scraping across the floor with Eren commending you for being a good girl and taking him so well made the both of them stare at each other with wide eyes. The "Huh?"'s they exchanged were amusing to anyone else and Sasha grabbed Connie by the collar before they hightailed out of there. Connie wanting to see if Eren had really been capable of pulling you and Sasha calling it bullshit and stating that the real reason was that he wanted to see you naked.

His thrusts became wild and sloppy, the slushing sounds you two were making was the hottest sounds you ever heard. You held onto his wrists, your smile wide and beautiful and Eren knew he wasn't going to be able to hold out much longer.

"I'm not gonna last long," He let you know, you nodded as you reached down to rub your clit in circles.

"Fuck, you look so hot." He blurted, his cheeks a deeper red and you gave him another soft smile.

"Thanks, baby. You too." His abs were going to be the death of you and you hoped you would get the chance to suck him off later to lick them one by one in foreplay.

You felt him begin to twitch in you and you knew you were so close, your rubbing speeding up as Eren's thrusts were becoming more sporadic. The way his eyes began to roll upwards had you chanting,

"I'm-I'm cumming!" Your moan was breathy and high as you felt your release overwhelm your senses, you felt euphoria as you moaned so loud that Jean and Floch who didn't believe Connie when he said that Eren had managed to bed you stared at each other with wide eyes and gaped mouths as they stood outside your door. Their cheeks red as they rushed down the hallway as if their asses were on fire, not even halfway down the stairs when they felt their collars yanked at so harshly they almost trampled down, Captain Levi's glare knowing as he began to reprimand them for being nosy pricks.

Eren's cock dove into you hard and you felt him pulsate as he shot long ropes of cum into you, his essence overflowing as he filled you to the brim and painted your insides white.

His moan was unbelievably loud and low, the "I love you." That followed didn't go unnoticed by you and the smile he gave, made you realize how much he meant it.

"I love you." Your answered back, he pushed your thighs to your chest when he lowered himself to kiss you. His cock softening inside you and he slowed his thrusts down and milked himself dry. He tapped his tip on your sensitive clit, making sure he was empty before tucking himself back into his boxers and jeans. The creampie in you was beginning to ooze out and he used his two fingers to push it back in, your hips bucking at the intrusion and you whined about your sensitivity.

You sat up, your hand going to fix your hair, only groaning slightly when you felt the ink on some strands already drying. You huffed before jumping down and fixing your dress. Eren was putting his shirt back on, his back slightly turned to you and your eyes widened in embarrassment at seeing the blue ink in what was obviously your finger prints streaked all over. You looked down and saw that it had well faded from your hands, transferring to your lover who put on his jacket. You shrugged, figuring no one would see it and you could wash your hands later. Your hair would be a bit tricky to explain but you would be home to shower soon anyway, which reminded you-

"Do you want to stay over tonight?" You blurted, scaring Eren as his eyes widened, you bit the inside of your cheek and fumbled with your fingers.

He smiled, walking up to you and kissing you on the lips before replying, "I would love to. I have to do some work today, and pack an overnight bag but I'll be home by dinner." His eyes looked you over, stifling a laugh when he saw the marks of blue ink on your neck, debating on telling you but not being able to deny how cute they looked on you, a gentle reminder of what happened just moments ago and an odd turn on for him to think of it as him marking you as his, the lovebite also on the side making him watch you with love.

You nodded before giving a follow-up question, "Chicken or fish?"

"Fish." He nodded, you grabbed a few papers from your desk drawer and Eren asked if you were all set before taking your hand into his as the two of you began to walk out the office, you mentioned having to speak to Erwin about the cadet recovering from a broken limb and Eren listened patiently, your hands swinging in between the two of you and you both relished at how easy it felt to transition into a life of domestication together. He walked you to Erwin's office, his knuckles knocking on the door before a loud, "One minute!" replied.

You both shared a look of confusion before shrugging and stepping to the side. You fixing his hair and Eren's hand resting on top of your hips when the office door opened. You both turned to see Jean and Floch who sported sullen faces, their arms swinging in front of them as if they were children just denied a cone of ice cream.

"Boys?" You called, your free hand interlocking with Eren who stood in place as you took a step toward the pair. "Everything alright?"

They looked between you and Eren, Jean seeing the ink marks on your neck and seeing Eren's hair haphazard was enough to make him look to the floor, his cheeks reddening and Eren could only smirk. Floch was the opposite, he couldn't take his eyes off you as his face held a permanent grimace and you wondered if he was constipated.

"Baby," Eren called, tugging you back to him and Jean scoffed, Possessive ass is already showing her off. He thought to himself.

"They just got yelled at by Erwin, whatever they did was obviously bad, just leave them be."

You nodded in understanding, giving them a comforting smile and Floch didn't miss the knowing look in Eren's eyes.

"Sorry to hear about that. If you two ever need anything, you know where my office is."

"Yeah, that's the problem." Captain Levi's voice came from the doorway. Jean and Floch mumbled a quick goodbye before scurrying away and you couldn't help but fall into deeper confusion.

The captain and Eren exchanged looks before Eren bent to kiss your cheek.

"I got to go. I'll see you later, princess." You blushed at the nickname and public display, murmuring a soft okay in reply as your boyfriend? walked away from you.

You gave Levi a smile which he didn't return, you didn't miss the small blush on his cheeks and you figured it was from seeing such intimacy from Eren. You were almost positive Levi was still a virgin. Walking into Erwin's office, you all but skipped the man's desk, falling beside him and giving him a bright smile which he returned.

"Hey Erwin, just wanted to update you on the cadet's recovery plan. He should be back in training in a few months if he listens to my instructions, think you can help me?"

"Sure what do you need?"

"Well, I'd need you to sign these release forms first." You shrugged putting the papers in front of him, you looked at his desk and grabbed the pen, "Where's your ink?"

The chuckle the two men gave you made your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"What?"

"Seems like you're wearing it, Doc." Levi's eyes flickered to your neck.

You let out a gasp and your hands slapped to cover you and the laughs that followed only made you blush furiously.

Dammit, You thought, Eren you idiot.

320 notes · View notes

ickle-ronniekins · 4 years ago

Text

forever, i choose you

desc: he’s always been everyone’s second choice, in every aspect of his life. george weasley just wants to be someone’s first.

word count: 3.9k

pairing: george weasley x muggle!reader

warning(s): idk you might cry, i sure did but what else is new. loneliness/discussion of sexual content/idk

A/N: i still have no motivation to write and/or read. and it’s the absolute worst. but i wrote the bulk of this story back in december/the beginning of january, and i figured maybe i’d try and write the ending and publish it and see if it’ll spark any inspiration in me. i’m real, real, real sorry if i haven’t gotten to your fics to read (i’ve got them all saved!) i just don’t know what’s wrong with me atm and it’s THE WORST. also it might evoke more emotion if you listen to this while reading this lil fic. thank you, to all of you, for your support and patience, always.

disclaimer: i do not give consent for my work to be posted on ANY other platform.

Seven-year-old George Weasley watched with wide eyes and a goofy grin as his father twirled his mother in the family space of their normally bustling and loud home. But tonight, the Burrow was quiet. Everyone was already sound asleep, his five brothers and his younger sister. George should be too, but he just couldn’t fall asleep no matter how much he tried. He fidgeted uncomfortably in his sheets and kept groaning, and it wasn’t long before his twin brother Fred threw a few pillows at his face, and eventually, George decided to get up and go for a stroll.

He hid strategically on the staircase so his parents wouldn’t see that he was still wide awake at nearly midnight, and he watched as they swayed lightly to the music emitting from somewhere in the house. It was light as a feather, the music, a small piano tune that echoed through the lower level, its sounds traveling effortlessly up the stairs of the home. Mr. Weasley dipped his wife and Mrs. Weasley giggled like some of the young girls George had seen in the village, kind of a nervous giggle, and he watched her blush. He saw his mother placed her head gently on Mr. Weasley’s chest and they both closed their eyes, and George wondered if they were happy to have a moment of peace without their seven children running around causing mayhem.

He wondered if they danced like this every evening, after everyone had already gone to bed.

George noticed a weird sort of feeling in his chest; he wondered why his heart was hurting. Was it because there was something wrong? But then he realized that wasn’t the case, for the aching in his heart came from his pure desire to find exactly what his mum and dad had -- a love like none other, with seven children, a home with multiple stories, and more treacle tarts than one needs.

He vowed in that moment, as he watched his parents from the staircase and tapped his foot quietly in rhythm with the music, that he’d find love like that one day.

He wanted someone to choose him first, just like his parents chose one another.

He brought his hand to his chest, as if to calm his rapidly beating heart, for the sheer idea of finding a love like theirs filled him with such excitement that he was certain he wouldn’t be able to sleep now. Seven-year-old George Weasley laid in bed, ignoring the soft snores from his twin across the room, his eyes wide with wonder as he dreamt of the woman he’d dance with one day.

Twelve-year-old George Weasley wasn’t ready to date. He was only twelve years old! He much preferred to dream.

He knew when he looked at the girl across from him that she wasn’t the one, lovely as she was. He adjusted his Gryffindor tie and cleared his throat and focused on the Potions assignment in front of him. It wasn’t exactly a date, was it? He was in a Potions lesson with his classmates, and Snape. But when the cute blackhaired Hufflepuff approached him and asked if he’d like to work together on the next of Snape’s ridiculous concoctions, Fred poked his brother in the ribs and winked, as if to say, If you don’t partner up with her, you’re a right prat.

And so George did what he thought was gentlemanly and he said yes. He could tell by the rose pink colour that flooded her cheeks that she was smitten with him, and that she’d asked him to be her partner because she was smitten. And he had to admit, she really was quite cute and very, very kind.. and rather smart for her age as well. And he knew that she’d make some man very, very happy someday. It just wouldn’t be him.

He did what was asked of him. He measured out the correct amount of powdered Griffin claw. He made sure he and his partner had enough salamander blood for their strengthening solution. And he smiled back at his partner, though his heart and his mind were still with the girl he’d dance with one day.

The Hufflepuff tried her hardest to capture his heart, but it belonged to someone he had yet to meet.

She wasn’t the one that felt like home.

-- -

Sixteen-year-old George Weasley didn’t understand why all of his classmates wanted to snog people and move onto someone else without so much as a blink.

So many people were pairing off and lasting less than a week before moving onto someone new. George rattled his brain for answers, he searched the eyes of his classmates for explanations, but he couldn’t understand why people would want to hop from one person to another. Didn’t they want to find love, a love that’s long lasting and pushes boundaries and moves mountains and weathers the storms it meets?

But perhaps, he worried, maybe that’s where he was going wrong.

Maybe, in order to find what he truly yearned for, he needed to be reckless and love without really loving.

Maybe he needed to search less, in order to find her.

And so he decided, with much persuasion from Fred, that he’d ask that pretty brunette Ravenclaw to the Yule Ball, and he’d dance and drink firewhisky and maybe he’d even kiss her, if the courage he tried to summon stayed with him throughout the night.

And maybe if he did all those things, he’d forget about the one his heart desperately craved.

And for a little while, he really did forget. Perhaps he could get on board with this “love the one you’re with” mentality. Maybe he could just be in the moment without worrying about everyone else. Maybe he could kiss girls without feeling anything, maybe he could date casually, maybe he could be like everyone else his age and not think about weddings and marriage and having children.

“Georgieee,” the Ravenclaw slurred on the dance floor. She tugged on his tie and pulled him close. He could smell the firewhisky on her breath and his heart began to pound when she pressed her lips lightly to his cheek. “Dance with meeee.”

No, this wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted more than this. He’d always wanted more than this.

George begrudgingly agreed and caught Fred’s eye from across the dance floor. The elder twin threaded his brows together and pushed the air with his hands, as if encouraging his younger brother to go for it. The Ravenclaw dazedly draped her arms across George’s shoulders and he sheepishly looked down toward his feet, but didn’t wrap his arms around her.

“George Weasleeeeyyyy,” she slurred again, hiccoughing in between giggles, “I said dance with meeeeeee.”

He tried to fight it, tried not to think of what he always did, but he couldn’t help it.

This girl was not the one. He could tell, because there was no love in the way she said his name. There was no true feeling in the surplus of kisses she kept pressing to his jawline, and there was no warmth radiating from her -- not the kind that mattered, anyway.

He knew, as he placed his hands gently on her waist and swayed with her to the music, that this was not what love felt like. This is not what home felt like.

He danced anyway, even though it was not the kind of dancing he’d seen his parents do all those years ago, and he allowed himself to think about what the rest of his classmates weren’t -- the person he’d hold in his arms, who’d be the mother to his children, who’s kisses would send him spiraling, who’s embraces would become all too familiar in a way that would comfort him in the darkest of times.

He allowed himself again, to dream of true love.

-- -

Seventeen-year-old George Weasley was sick and tired of waiting for the one.

It sounded kind of dramatic in his own head, seeing as he was only seventeen, but he’d known now for ten years exactly what he was looking for, and ten years seemed like a lifetime.

It didn’t help that nearly all of his friends had gotten over their casual dating scene and were now all enthralled with their significant others. He felt so painfully lonely, though he’d never admit it to a soul. He could hardly admit it to himself.

One evening, he shot up from the couch and out of the common room in a fit of fury, for if he had to see Fred and Angelina snogging in the corner for one more minute, he was quite certain he was going to explode from disgust. He was happy for his brother, of course he was, but he didn’t need to see it. Not as often as that.

He found Ron sitting in the Great Hall with Ginny, Harry, and Hermione and plopped beside them all before engaging in exciting rounds of exploding snap. But as the night grew darker and he grew more tired, George noticed the undeniable chemistry between his sister and Harry and his brother and Hermione. Though they all hadn’t admitted to one another how they felt, George had found it obvious, and he politely excused himself before he tugged his jacket rather angrily around his shoulders before he walked out into the winter storm, just to feel the cold air numb his skin.

He walked out of the castle, over toward the owlery, through the treacherous amounts of snow. Anything to distract George from everyone who’d apparently been hit by Cupid’s bloody arrow.

Ever since he was born, it had always been Fred and George. What about George and Fred? Was it because Fred was older? And why were people always lumping them together? Just because they’re twins? George loathed that. They were individuals too. He was always second, in everything.

In getting hand-me-downs from his older brothers. In being referred to with his twin. In lessons when the professors would call out their names for attendance, because F came before G in the alphabet. And even when it came to love; all the girls always seemed to flock to Fred instead, because he was more exciting. More boisterous. Less shy.

The cold, winter air bit violently at his exposed skin, and he reckoned it hurt less than watching everyone around him find someone that chose them, all while he was still waiting for the right person to choose him.

George Weasley didn’t want to be someone’s second choice.

He wanted to be someone’s first.

-- -

Twenty-year-old George Weasley didn’t know how exactly he ended up here.

He didn’t know how he ended up in a relationship three years deep, without having said “I love you” once and actually meaning it.

George thought he might’ve found her, his person, during his seventh year. She was beautiful and kind and everything he thought he’d hoped and dreamt of. Her soft touch, her yearning eyes, the way she curled up next to him in the dormitories late at night and held onto him as she slept -- it was everything, and it seemed to be perfect.

He thought that maybe, perhaps, she was it. But even so, he found himself waiting, still, for that feeling… the one on the staircase he’d felt so long ago.

But the pain of realizing that she wasn’t who he’d been searching for was more heartbreaking than the pain of him asking her to leave.

He’d been looking at her through rose coloured lenses and had been ignoring the truth that was right in front of him.

He should’ve left years ago, when that Gryffindor girl began to make backhanded jokes about the shop, and his dreams of becoming a business entrepreneur, claiming that she was only joking around.

He should’ve left when that girl showed up late to the grand opening of their shop, nearly a year into their relationship.

He should’ve left when he held her in his arms, and still didn’t feel comfortable beside her.

His heart ached for it, what he’d felt on the staircase at the mere age of seven. And perhaps he’d become so desperate for it, that he took something disguised as true love.

But the truth was that he knew, deep in his soul, that this Gryffindor girl wasn’t the one. He’d just chosen, outright, to ignore it. Perhaps if he could forget that idea that “the one” would smack him square in the face with an overwhelming sensation of knowing, he could have learned to love her, even when he hadn’t had that smack in the face moment when he’d met her all those years ago.

But it hadn’t happened, had it? He hadn’t grown to love her. Not truly, anyway. And she hadn’t grown to love him. Not in the way he wanted to be loved, at least.

Because it was more than just heated kisses and lazy days in bed and all things physical that he wanted.

It was about love. Pure, blinding, unadulterated love.

He stood frozen solid in the middle of his tiny flat and watched as that Gryffindor girl grabbed her coat off of the hanger and raised her hand slightly before slipping silently into the dimly lit hallway for the very last time. And George poured himself a glass of bourbon and sat near the window, looking up at the stars, expecting to feel sad at her departure, but in fact, he didn’t feel sad at all.

He felt hopeful.

He hadn’t found the one yet, but he knew she was out there, getting to him as fast as she possibly could.

Though his brothers had urged him to come to the pub and meet someone else, George didn’t fancy the idea of doing that. He was over that entire scene, just as he was in school when everyone was pairing off and moving on immediately. He didn’t want something fleeting, and he didn’t want something meaningless.

He wanted something true.

-- -

Twenty-three-year old George Weasley was certain that he was never going to find that feeling ever again, for as long as he lived.

While all of his friends were out at the pubs, meeting people and fooling around as if feelings weren’t involved, George was walking aimlessly through the streets to work. He was constantly dealing with the haze above his head, waiting for it to lift. He was turning down girls left and right and ignoring his brothers’ insistence on dating casually again.

He didn’t want to waste any more of his time on people who weren’t going to reach out and trace circles onto his chest in the middle of the night, or who weren’t going to dance around the kitchen in his clothes while cooking dinner, or who weren’t going to look at him with eyes so tender, it would render him useless for days to come.

He’d been waiting sixteen years to find his person, the one who would choose him everyday over everyone else, and in hindsight it didn’t quite seem like a long time. But as he cried silently to himself every few nights in bed, feeling the empty space next to him and yearning for the one who was meant to be there, sixteen years felt like a lifetime.

He thought for a long while, that maybe she was in another country, or maybe she was an auror or something, fighting her way through the monsters of the wizarding world.

He’d thought for a bit that perhaps he just hadn’t met her yet.

But as the days dragged on and he found himself lost in crowds, searching face after face, looking for hers, he truly felt as though all hope was lost.

And so George paced back and forth in the kitchen of his flat, biting at his nails and pouring himself hefty glasses of wine, keen on ignoring everyone’s attempts at getting him to come out.

Maybe this was what he deserved.

Maybe because he wasn’t out there, sleeping with people whose names he wouldn’t remember come morning like everyone else, he was just going to be alone.

Maybe there really wasn’t someone out there for him. Maybe not everyone finds true love. Maybe his parents had just gotten lucky.

The dull ache in George’s heart grew stronger, and for the upteenth night in a row, he laid in bed and gripped the covers and cried himself to sleep, his tears sliding down his cheeks the same way the evening rain slid down the window terrace.

-- -

Twenty-four-year old George Weasley stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he felt it.

That feeling. The one from the staircase as he watched his parents dance, all those years ago.

Heart pounding, chest rising, hands freezing.

It hit him square in the chest without warning, nearly knocking him over though his feet were rooted into the ground at the spot, smack dab in the middle of that cafe in the middle of London.

Someone was playing a slow, soft piano tune coming from the other end. People were filtering in and out, asking the man in front of them what exactly he was staring at and why he wasn’t moving. But George Weasley stood where he was, not taking his eyes off of you.

You were reading furiously, flipping through pages of a book gripped tightly in your hands, as though you couldn’t devour the plot fast enough. George watched with admiration as a gentle smile tugged at your lips, as your eyes scanned the words quickly, as you tapped your foot on the ground, in rhythm with that slow piano.

He watched with dazed eyes and parted lips as you finished the end of your book. You dabbed your eyes with a tissue and clutched the book tightly to your chest, overwhelmed, clearly, by the end of the plot. George’s heart soared so high at your passion that he found himself struggling to hold back the I love you that was pressing behind his lips.

You immediately took a long sip of your tea and placed your finished book back into your bag, only to pull out another and immediately immerse yourself in the next story. George laughed to himself, stunned that you were so intent on falling into someone else’s storyline, if only for a little while, that you hadn’t dared take a break from one book to the next. You merely jumped right in.

He wondered if his overwhelming feelings called out to you like a signal of sorts, because just as he was working up the courage to walk over to you, you looked up. You searched the room for a moment before meeting his gaze and suddenly, the world around you both stopped.

George found himself wanting to know everything about you. He itched to devour up any and all information you’d be so kind to provide to him -- your name, your favorite color, your birthday. He wanted to know what book you’d just been reading, and what about it had moved you so much to the point of tears. He wanted to know everything, but deep in his soul, he also knew that he’d have years to learn it all.

In fact, he’d have the rest of forever.

Your eyes went soft and George began to feel the steady pounding of his heart increase, and to his amazement, he noticed a gentle smile tug at the edges of your lips.

And he smiled back.

He’d been right all along. That feeling of finding the one would smack him square in the face. He wondered, as he peered at you now, biting down on your bottom lip and looking toward the ground, why he’d ever doubted himself in the first place. And he wondered when you looked back up at him once again and raised a hand to say hello, if you’d been smacked in the face with that feeling too, just like he had.

He resisted the urge to pour his heart out to you, right here and right now. He’d have time.

Perhaps today was just about having today, and recognizing that you were everything he’d been looking for since that evening on the staircase.

He’d tell you this one day.

-- -

“And what does… Lumox mean again?”

George laughed and squeezed your hands. “You mean, Lumos?”

You bit your lip in embarrassment and laughed, too. “Yes! Lumos. That’s the one that produces light, right?”

George brought your hands to his lips and kissed them gently. You two were seated inside a bustling restaurant in Diagon Alley, and he wondered if people passing by realized just how cozy you two looked together. “You’re more brilliant than most witches I know.”

You cocked your head to the side with an air of confidence and batted your eyelashes at him. “What can I say, Georgie? I may have been born a… Mugglie… but maybe I was meant to be a witch.”

George had to bite down on his lip to keep from laughing. He couldn’t get over how painfully adorable you were as you attempted to pronounce these wizarding words and learn spells and charms and things as he taught you all things about the wizarding world. You took his wand and pointed it at your wine glass, pretending to transfigure it. You couldn’t, of course, since you weren’t a magical being. But George didn’t mind. He could watch you pretend all day long.

In all his years of studying magic, he’d never felt anything quite like this.

BONUS, just because i hate feeling sad asf:

Thirty-two-year old George Weasley rocked his redheaded daughter back and forth in his arms, until he was certain that she was sound asleep again -- her mouth open wide as she began to snore softly when he placed her back into her crib.

He peered up at the clock on the wall and blinked a few times before 4:32 a.m. came into focus. Exhausted, he made his way back into his room before sliding into bed.

And there it was again. That feeling.

You turned over in bed to face him, squinting in the darkness as your eyes adjusted to the scene unfolding before you. Groggily, you reached out and traced your fingers across his jawline. His heart nearly stopped. “Is she alright?” you asked sleepily.

George grinned softly and leant forward before pressing a kiss to your forehead. He whispered, “She’s alright. Go back to sleep.”

Though your eyes were already shut, you reached out again and took his hand in yours before bringing your lips gently to his fingers. “Okay.. I love you.. G’night..”

But you were asleep again before George could respond, so instead he pulled you closely to him and began to gently trace circles on your bare shoulders. He breathed in the smell of your shampoo, and listened intently for the beating of your heart that had fallen into sync with his.

Tears pushed at the edges of his eyes, but he slowed his breathing and reminded himself, again, that there was no longer an empty space beside him in bed.

Maybe he shouldn’t have ever given up hope, but perhaps giving up hope was what made finding you so much sweeter.

If only he could tell seven-year-old George what he’d find when the time was right.

And in the darkness, as the rain pattered on the rooftop of his house and he felt your embrace tighten around his body, he whispered into the silence, “I love you, too.”

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#george weasley #fred weasley #fred and george weasley #weasley twins #george weasley x reader #george weasley reader insert #george weasley x you #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley imagine #weasley twins imagine #weasley twins imagines #george weasley imagines #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction

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lemon--squeezy · 3 years ago

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𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐨

Summary: The reader thinks about how her relationship with Aaron Hotchner came to an end.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Warnings: Angst and more angst!

Song(s): "it's time to go" by Taylor Swift and "enough for you" by Olivia Rodrigo

A/N: This is me trying to get back to fanfiction after months of only writing college papers and facebook comments. Feedback is always appreciated but kind please ‘cause I’m a sensible soul.

You found yourself sitting on your couch in the center of your apartment, surrounded by a dim light, by rustic furniture and old books. The space felt cold and a shiver ran through your legs, moving toward your arms and the back of your neck. You sensed the inevitable feeling of the walls getting further and further away, the room expanding and making you feel like a tiny lonely dot. You looked around, seeing a mess scattered around and you thought how your insides felt the same; all disarrayed and chaotic.

Memories of how you got to this moment flooded your mind. You remembered the first time you met Aaron Hotchner, the tall and handsome unity chief of the BAU; recalling the electric touch of his hand meeting your skin. It’s impossible to not fall in love with the man, so you started pinning after him and tried your hardest to make him notice you, even unconsciously.

The other team members noticed almost right away, so they would constantly gossip about your not-so-subtle crush and they encouraged you to make a move. But you didn’t want to embarrass yourself and risk your job. Besides, you knew Hotch's last relationship was with his high school sweetheart who unfortunately died a few years ago, so you didn’t know if he wanted to start dating again. So months of yearning became a couple of years until you finally confessed your love, but all your fears vanished when the man kissed you and said he felt the same.

You remembered the anxiety you felt when getting ready for your first date but you also remembered how happy you were when he showed up at your doorstep with your favorite flowers in hand. It was the best night of your life.

You thought about how you memorized his body during late nights of love-making under sheets; the feeling of his rough hands wrapped around your waist, his fingers marking your skin as he whispered praise words just for your ears. You could never forget his body consuming yours, his mouth kissing the spots he knew would drive you crazy and make you moan in pleasure until you came under him. Although, that was at the beginning of the relationship, when the flame was so strong it could burn from afar.

After a while, you felt like he was getting out of reach. Lots of dinners got cold because you two got caught up in the middle of arguments, conversations were forced, and touches felt meaningless. Aaron started getting distant and you began to feel tired of trying your hardest for him to notice you again.

You also relived the exact moment you knew he wasn’t yours anymore. It’s during one morning after he showed up at the BAU with a big smile on his face and the whole team got eager to know the motive. Emily asked you if it’s due to a romantic night but you didn’t know the reason yourself. That same day you overheard a conversation between your boyfriend and Dave; Aaron was talking about a nice woman he met at the park during his run, he made sure to be clear to Rossi that he was only happy about having a friend to train with him, but his enthusiasm about this new woman hurt you more than a bullet craving your inside.

After that, you suggested going to run with him one morning but he dismissed you, saying it was better to go alone so he could focus. You remember locking yourself in the bathroom and crying so hard until you felt your heart-melting into tears and escaping your chest. That’s the moment you told yourself it’s time to go.

You think back to how you summoned all your courage and invited Aaron to your apartment to have a serious talk. You questioned him about the mysterious woman but he insisted she was just a friend and you wished to believe him, but as a profiler and as someone who knew Hotch so deeply you concluded she wasn’t just that.

“Beth is just a friend who’s helping me to train for the triathlon. You are blowing things out of proportion as usual,” he barked and paced at your living room while you watched him with your arms crossed attempting to shield yourself from his bitterness.

“I- I think we should break up,” you managed to mutter after a few seconds. You tried to stay confident but melancholy was wrapped tightly around your words.

“What?” Aaron questioned with his permanent scowl as his eyes stared at your face.

“Since the beginning of us, I knew you couldn’t ever love me with all your heart because a part of it will always belong to your ex-wife and I was okay with that. I thought I could compensate with my love and I hoped it would be enough. I could handle not being the love of your life even if you’re mine, that was fine. But I can’t keep pretending anymore that I am enough for you, because I’m clearly not,” you explained with your trembling lips, struggling to keep standing.

“Sweetheart…” Hotch whispered as he tried to reach you with his hands, but you stepped back and turned your head to the side, not being strong enough to look him in the eye.

“Please, leave,” you begged anguished while stray tears wandered your face.

You will forever remember how he turned around and left through the door. But even with a mournful heart, you knew in your soul it was time to let him go so you could find the right thing.

#hotch #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x you #hotch/reader #aaron hotchner/reader #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner angst #reader insert #criminal minds fan fiction #hotch fanfiction

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aerynwrites · 4 years ago

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Unattainable

Captain Rex x F!Reader

A/N: So uhhh...Yeah I’m in my Rex feels. And I read something about the clones having accelerated Aging and it made me sad so I channeled that into this fic xD Hope you all enjoy!

WC: 1.1k

Warnings: Mentions of death, fear of death, emotional hurt/comfort.

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

You had pretty much grown out of being phased by the fatalities and gruesome details you see in battle. You remember as a Padawan you cringed and flinched and your heart was heavy with every death you witnessed. However, after being a Jedi master for several years and being a general in the Clone Wars, it has somewhat hardened your resolve and your mind. You still hold the compassion that is expected of a Jedi, but those things no longer make you lose much sleep.

Until tonight it seems.

You can practically feel the silence of your quarters pressing down on you. The ticking of the mechanical clock on your nightstand and the slow even breathing of the body beside you seem deafening in the silence. You sit up, pushing the covers from your body as you make your way out into the small living room to stare out the thick transparisteel to the stars beyond. You know that meditation would ease your mind, but it’s running fast with so many thoughts that you would never be able to empty it in order to achieve a calm state.

You let out a sigh as you cross your arms over your chest, still looking out at the galaxy passing by you. Hoping, naively, that the stars will give you the answers you seek. The light shuffle of familiar footsteps however, does not give the stars much time to answer.

You don’t turn to face him as he approaches you, eyes staying glued to the view port as he comes to stand next to you. He rubs his eyes tiredly, a yawn escaping his lips before he speaks.

“Cyare?” his voice is soft as he addresses you, “What’s wrong?”

You could lie. You could lie and say you just couldn’t sleep - still too wound up from the battle. You could simply tell him that nothing is wrong and lead you both back to bed. You know that he would believe you. You know he won’t push you into talking about something you don’t want too.

But this is Rex. And since he is the main object of your thoughts...you own him to reveal what’s on your mind.

You let out a small sigh, your arms dropping to your side as you finally speak. “What if we just left.” you say bluntly, not wanting to beat around the bush since this is something you've talked about before. “I have connections. Good ones. I could secure us a place-”

Rex’s exasperated sigh cuts you off, “Not this again-”

“Rex!” you interject, turning and reaching out to take his hands in your own, “Please listen to me-” you beg, the tears you have been holding back since earlier today burning your eyes harshly, “I can’t do this anymore,” you breathe, “I can’t go out there and fight alongside you and your brothers knowing that those above you - above us - see you as nothing but pawns in their game. I can’t continue fighting for people who don’t see their best soldiers as human beings!” you gasp, “So why can’t we leave?”

Rex pulls his hand from yours harshly, and you are assaulted with waves of conflicting emotions rolling off the man in front of you. Fear, anger, frustration, confusion, love, yearning - but most of all - resentment. Bitterness. Feelings so deep and powerful that they practically knock you off your feet.

“And what would we do if we left?” he counters, “Go live on a farm in some backwater planet? Desert everything we’ve ever fought for? Get married? Have children?”

“Why not?” you practically wail, the tears you were fighting so hard to conceal finally slipping down your cheeks, “You make it sound like those are terrible things to want! That craving a family and peace is something so terrible!”

“Those things are terrible when you can’t have them!” he shouts, “You want things we can’t have! You want things that I can’t give you.”

“Why?” you repeat the question that has been plaguing your mind for months now. “Why can’t we have that? Cut had it. Cut has everything we want over on Saleucami. He has a wife and two adorable little kids and he’s happy! We don’t even have to do it now. We can wait until the war is over-”

“And then what?” Rex cries, and you watch as his anger gives way to hysteria and fear and anguish. “After the war ends what do you expect?” he eggs on. “You expect us to live happily ever after on some outer rim planet and have kids of our own so that all of you can watch me die in your arms of old age because of the accelerated aging that us clones have been cursed with?”

You falter at his words, taking a few cautious steps towards the man you love as your heart breaks for him. Finally realizing that what has been holding him back is fear. Not anger.

“Rex you can’t think like that-”

“I have too!” his words come out of shuddered breathes and you don’t miss the shine of unshed tears in his eyes, “Because if I don’t, then as soon as we get a little speck of happiness, it will be taken from us and I-” he swallows thickly as he finally reaches out to take your hands in his once more. “I can’t do that to you,” he breathes, a few stray tears falling silently down his cheeks, “I can’t create a life with you knowing that I’ll only get to spend a fraction of it alive.”

You can’t even begin to think of what to say. And you suppose in this moment you don’t really have to say anything. So, in lieu of empty sentiments of understanding, you wrap your arms around him in a tight embrace, running a free hand through the short blonde hair at the base of his skull.

“Well then,” you begin, voice thick with emotion, “Let’s just enjoy the time we do have, yeah? Then, we can see what our future holds.”

Rex lets out a shuddering breath and pulls you closer to him, nuzzling into the crook of your neck as he does so. “I love you. I’m sorry.” he whispers softly, lips brushing lightly over your shoulder.

You nod and hug him tighter, afraid if you let go, neither of you will be able to hold it together. “I love you too, Rex. No matter what happens.”

And as you both stand in the living room in each other's embrace, you can’t help but feel a smidge of hope tug at your heart. Because despite the destiny placed on the clone captain, your love for one another will be enough.

It has to be.

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

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#clones x reader #clone wars x reader #captain rex x reader #rex x reader #star wars the clone wars #Clone Wars #Star Wars

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jaskierisbi · 4 years ago

Text

lines and verses from every amazing devil song that hit

King

But our voices collide with each howl of the tide || Singing all hell and its fire waits for us

All that matters || Is that you’re here

Pruning Shears

My entire life it's running away too fast || Watching everyone I've ever loved walk past || Never really quite getting the knack of || Knowing no one will not || Ever come back for you

Shower Day

Would have stayed if you'd had asked || But instead you just walk past

You're the one who told me my hair looked better black || You're the one who told me to never look back || You're the one who asked me if I'm feeling ok || I said I'm fine || It's just a sitting down in the shower day

Leave the room but you get caught in the rain || Know you should love him but it's such a pain || Would have stayed if you'd had asked || But instead you just walk away

Elsa’s Song

I can hear the cannons calling || As though across a dream || And I can smell the smoke of hell || In every stitch and seam || And like flowers, the bodies tumble || Around this muddied lot || I cannot hear them scream || ‘Forget me not.’

Pray

Pray for me, I'll run until I begin to understand || What holy men really mean || When they speak of sin

God made all man in his image || Honey I'm I'm I'm no man || I'm what’s left when children go to war

Run from you, I'll run until I begin to understand || What holy men really mean when they speak of sand and sons and seams and symphonies and sweat and sex and sin

Why you cannot sleep for sighing || Why womanhood is more than crying || I'm stronger now than you have ever known

The cracks you made I fill with mortar || A broken pot can still hold water || Symphonies and sweat and sex mean nothing when you are obsessed || With sin and soil and strength and song and all the words that came out wrong and him

Little Miss Why So

Did you tell them about the time we met little miss || You'll love the way I tell it || And I'll yell it from the rooftops for you || He says

He says || You're going too fast || You'll burn up soon

I don't know how to reach you when you get like this || I've been waiting for you to come home || I don't know how to reach you when you get like this || I've been waiting for you to come home

Why won't you just tell them all to fuck off love and be mine

He says || Why so sad || I'm here and I'm alive || Stop making up death wishes and take my lifeline

Why won't you believe I love you if I'm not hurting you, he says || Can't you see that I'm enough for you but you don't want me to be || 'Cause that means you'll actually have to be content

Why so why so sad || Stop asking why I'm sad just know it's enough to know I'm sad

New York Torch Song

But your blood does not bleed red no more || It's whiter than the sun burns, bright with every hum || From within this gaping wound of ours || A new us has begun. A new us has begun. A new us has begun

Tear me up and burn me up and rip me up and leave your || Hand on the wall as you go

Are you god or devil, ghost dishevelled || Childhood friend or drunken revel

I cannot find the words to keep you || I cannot find the words to keep you

Two Minutes

It's like all the wallpaper inside my heart || Is slowly slowly peeling off || And I'm showing || All the stains and things || They wrote on the wall before

These hands are growing cold ||They're running out of things to hold || Give me two damn minutes and I'll be fine

If I'm good will you come back || If I'm good will you come back || If I'm good will you come back || To us

Not Yet/Love Run

Sing me awake with a song about pirates || And I will try to harmonise || And sip the sunlight from your eyes || Oh sing me awake || With all the things we’ll do today || But instead we’ll build a den || Out of pillows and get drunk again

If my old mum could see me now || Oh how she’d howl she’d howl

Love run, love run || For all the things you’ve done || Run for all the things that drum || Run for all those pages thumbed

Love run, love run || For all the things we wished we’d done || Run from all you know that’s coming || Run to show that love’s worth running to

All that matters || Is that you're here ||All that matters

- - - - - - - - - -

The Rockrose and the Thistle

n/a sorry y’all

The Horror and the Wild

You are that space that’s in between every page, every chord and every screen || You are the driftwood and the rift, you’re the words that I promise I don’t mean

We’re drunk but drinking (sunk but sinking) || They thought us blind (we were just blinking)

Remember me I ask, remember me I sing || Give me back my heart you wingless thing

Think of all the horrors that I || Promised you I’d bring || I promise you, they’ll sing of every || Time you passed your fingers through my hair and called me child || Witness me, old man, I am the Wild

Wild Blue Yonder

So one last time, love, come and rip my clothes || Get a grip, we're grownups

Come and rip off my socks like you’re blasting the locks off of a bank vault. Halt! || This time we’re done for

Let’s hide under the covers || We don’t know what’s out there || Could be wolves || So hold me, lover, like you used to || So tight I’d bruise you || I’d bruise you, I’d bruise you too

Every stone you threw, I stood on to better see the view

Don't you ever wonder, what could have been? || All those wonders sit in wait for us, we tried

Every brick you hurled, I’ll use to build this world || This world, this world, this world

Welly Boots

And I love you, don’t you know || That I’ll be with you all along, as long as you are kind

And when you scream that it’s not fair || It’s like I’ve gone off to the coast || Left you behind just standing there || Pretending not to see your ghost || If only you could hear my voice || But you are screaming far too loud to hear me swear || Just because I left doesn’t mean that I’m not still there

'Cause you were always strong || When you were young, you’d kick things just to see if they would fall || They said ‘That girl, she’s wrong’ || But I’ll stick up for you, even though you haven’t got a clue, you haven't got a fucking clue

Farewell Wanderlust

He said ‘Hey darling hey, hey darling hey’ || I’m the hardest goodbye that you’ll ever have to say

I promise you I’ll be better || I promise you I’ll try || But like rubbing wine stains into rugs it’s my curse || To try and make it right, but by trying make it worse

I promise you I’m not broken || I promise you there’s more || More to come, more to reach for, more to hurl at the door

Goodbye to all my darkness, there’s nothing here but light || Adieu to all the faceless things that sleep with me at night || This here is not make up, it’s a porcelain tomb || And this here is not singing, I’m just screaming in tune

Fair

It’s what my heart just yearns to say || In ways that can’t be said || It’s what my rotting bones will sing || When the rest of me is dead || It’s what’s engraved upon my heart || In letters deeply worn || Today I somehow understand the reason I was born

She laughs as though she’s not heard the joke ten thousand times before || And he adores her, he watches her get dressed as though she’s hurtling through time

And she brushes her hand through his hair, he’s got so much fucking hair

And he holds her close just to keep the world at bay

"It’s not fair, it’s not fair how much I love you || It’s not fair, 'cause you make me laugh when I’m actually really fucking cross at you for something," || And he’ll say || "Oh how, oh how unreasonable || How unreasonably in love I am with everything you do || I spend my days so close to you 'cause if I’m standing here, maybe everyone will think I’m alright,"

'Cause darling I was born to press my head between your shoulder blades

And calm throughout his melodrama, she will turn and say || "Dear heart, it’s me, it's me || You don’t need to pretend to be someone you’re not || 'Cause it’s not like I’ve never heard you fart and snore || And for some godforsaken reason || I’m still here, love, like I’ve always been before,"

Burying her head into his chest and clinging to the moment || "Where have you been?" she’ll whisper || "I’ve waited oh so long for you to come" || And as the stars above them hum and hear them || He’ll turn to her and say, "That’s what she said"

That Unwanted Animal

You try so loud to love me || I cannot seem to hear || ‘Be good to me,’ I whisper || And you say ‘What?’ || And I say ‘Nothing dear’

I’m the paper cut that kills you || I’m the priest that you ignored || I’m the touch you crave, I’m the plans that you made, but fuck all your plans I’m bored

And you rip my ribcage open || And devour what’s truly yours

'Cause if we join our hands in prayer enough || To God I imagine it all starts to sound like applause

Marbles

And I chipped my teeth on every joke you cracked

You stole the best years of my life || I’ll give them back

'Cause I will wait and hope || Your eyes aren’t rivers there to weep || But a place for crows to rest their feet || And I will wait and hope || And rest my head at night content || Knowing where my marbles went

She sang, ‘Do you think I’m sexy?’ and oh god I really did

Oh, if one more guy calls me darling then I || Swear to you and to god I will murder them all

All the bastards applaud when I show that I’m flawed || You’re not flawed darling, you’re just a little under-rehearsed

I’ve loved you, for a hundred years || Certainly fucking feels like it

The minute I met you, the colours of my life began to pour

And now, even though you’re mad and these memories won’t stay || That's okay || 'Cause then I get to meet you for the first time every single day

Battle Cries

Tell the truth to me, love, does my hair look as nice || As it did when you once tangled up in your eyes? || Look at me as you say this, don’t look at your phone

‘Cause these plates they smash like waves || And the wine stains hide the tears || But that breathing you hear, don't mistake it for sighs || Don’t you realise? They’re just battle cries, dear

And these lines aren’t wrinkles, dear heart || They’re just dollops of paint on a new work of art

And as I walk away, I know I’ve been through the wars || But that creaking you hear in my bones is not pain, it’s applause

This isn’t a break up, dear heart, it’s a season finale

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hopelesshawks · 4 years ago

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WOAH WOAH is your MHA reqs open?? So I wanted to request a Todoroki x Reader Angst where Todoroki sees his s/o getting stabbed by a villain with countless sharp spears like in Chiaki’s death video in danganronpa along with 1-A and just loses it? I’m sorry I’m craving for angst rn ✨✨ also love your writing and remember to stay safe <33 💕💗

My requests are open yes!! I have actually missed receiving them (and tbf I’m prolly not getting them because I’m doing daily updates on History of Us hahaha). So thanks for the request anon. I’m also really touched that you love my writing 🥰 I hope this lives up to your impression of me!

I had never seen danganropa but I just looked up what you were talking about and w o w I am in ✨pain✨ 🥲 I’ve got you anon. It’s going to hurt but I got you. Did I drag out (y/n)’s last words? Yes. Would they realistically already have died before saying all that I have them say? Probably. But this is fanfic and if movie writers can do it then goddamn it so can I!

CW for angst, somewhat graphic description of major character injury and death (reader), non-major character death, and canon typical violence

Nothing has been the same since the fall of the hero commission and the loss of faith in the Symbol of Peace’s generation of heroes. It’s been two years since Shigaraki wreaked havoc and Dabi exposed Endeavor’s crimes. As pros unused to that level of violence retired or quit, hero class students have been forced to step up and fill in the spaces they left behind. As a result, even as their faith in the pros waned, the public started to see the students as a beacon of hope. All Might, they whisper, spoiled the current generation of heroes. They argue that Endeavor is now too old to keep up, that Hawks and Mirko are too burdened by their mentors’ failures, and all the heroes aged in between are too used to the relative peace of the golden era to be effective. These current students though? Students like the famous UA hero class A, now third years who’ve already seen so much? They are the new hope. They’d grown up in the fires of a post-symbol of peace era and as such they are the only ones who can drag society out of it. It would be flattering if not for the overwhelming pressure that comes along with it.

Shoto thinks he would have been crushed beneath that pressure if not for you.

The two of you had started growing close your first year during the provisional license exam make up classes. Spending so much additional time together over the weekend had allowed Shoto to slowly open up to you until a beautiful friendship had blossomed. Even still, both of you had secretly yearned for something more. It was only after the destruction of Jaku City and the Todoroki family secrets were aired to the whole of Japan that the two of you finally acted on your feelings. You’d been such a source of support for him afterwards that eventually he hadn’t been able or willing to hold back any longer and had confessed his feelings to you late one night in the dorms. The two of you have been together ever since and fully intend to open a hero agency together after graduation. He knows the two of you are still young but sometimes when he looks at you with your blinding smile or when you’re sleeping peacefully beside him, he swears he can hear wedding bells. If the civilians of Japan can consistently forget how young you all are as they urge you to take over for the pros, then it seems only fair he should be able to forget too.

His mother was ecstatic when he asked her about engagement rings. Endeavor had said it was too early, that marriage is too large a commitment to make at 18 years old, but Shoto insisted and eventually a compromise was reached. He’ll wait until after graduation but then he’s determined to make you his forever and always.

It’s an otherwise normal Saturday afternoon in the dorms when Iida and Momo get an urgent distress signal to gather the entirety of the class and head into the city. A large group of ragtag criminals, determined to become the next League of Villains, is terrorizing Musutafu and the number of casualties is climbing rapidly. The other heroes usually responsible for that area had been called away to handle a different disaster and all attempts made by the civilians to defend themselves had only led to more chaos. The entire class mobilized in seconds. Calls like this aren’t uncommon now. The villains have been banding together more and their bloodlust seems to have grown exponentially with civilians’ continued lack of trust in the current pros. By the time you all arrive to the scene there’s no time to waste. “Be careful,” you tell Shoto, carefully running a hand through his hair before resting it on his cheek. He brings his hand up to cover yours before promising, “I will.” He presses a kiss to your palm but before he can do more Bakugo sharply barks “Hurry it up lovebirds we got a fucking job to do!” before racing off. You both know he’s right. “I love you,” you tell Shoto. “Love you too,” he promises before you both steel yourselves and then take off into the fray.

It’s an absolutely grueling battle. Every time someone takes one villain down, another comes to take their place. “Pinky! On your left!” you call out, causing your classmate to sharply turn. Mina just manages to dodge a punch one of the villains throws her way and swiftly counteracts with an attack of her own, calling out a thanks. There’s no time to breathe though and almost as soon as you’re done warning Mina, you have to dive in to keep another villain off Ojiro’s back. It’s chaotic but slowly you’re starting to pick away the forces as many of the remaining villains start fleeing. Once it looks like they’ve all retreated you instinctively look for Shoto, having not seen him since the fighting had properly started. You catch sight of him and heave a sigh of relief. You call out his name to catch his attention and although he initially offers you a soft smile you notice his eyes suddenly widen. “(Y/n) behind you!” he calls out.

Every moment after that seems to happen in slow motion.

You turn around just in time for a spear to fire clean through your shoulder, knocking you off balance. You start to fall backwards but before you can even hit the ground at least a dozen more rise up from the asphalt and impale your body. You hear Shoto’s broken cry of your name but it sounds so distant to you. After a moment stuck in place the spears suddenly drop back into the ground. Shoto is next to you in a second, pulling your broken body close as you bleed out. One of your other classmates tries to call for medical support but all he can focus on is you and the sheer amount of blood you’re losing. Shoto knows his training. He knows that when a victim has been stabbed it’s crucial to put pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding, but how can he when there’s so many fucking wounds. “You’re going to be ok. You’re going to be ok. You’re going to be ok.” He says it over and over again like a mantra. It’s both a plea to you and a desperate attempt to deny the harsh reality that the love of his life is bleeding out in his arms.

You press a bloody hand to his cheek, looking lovingly up at the man you’d do anything for, and shush him quietly. “Sho,” you rasp, voice already weak as your body tries and fails to cope with your injuries. “Don’t,” he warns. “Sho, baby, look at me,” you try again but he shakes his head, shutting his eyes tightly as tears start to run down his cheeks. “Please?” you ask and he can’t deny you, never could, so he opens his eyes and looks down at your glossy ones as you fight to stay awake just a little bit longer. “There they are. I always did love your eyes,” you tell him wistfully as your thumb strokes his cheek, smearing your blood there, though you don’t seem to notice. “You can’t leave me. You have to be ok,” he whispers but you shake your head. You can already feel yourself fading and with medical attention still several minutes out at least you know there’s no fixing this. “I need you to promise me something,” you tell him. “Anything,” he replies immediately and it brings a sad smile to your blood stained lips. “Promise you’ll find someone else after me,” you say and the scandalized look on his face would have probably made you laugh under different circumstances. “You’ve got too much love to give to let it die with me,” you tell him but he shakes his head again. “I could never love anyone else like I love you,” he swears and he means it with every fiber of his being. You chuckle wetly. “You always were stubborn. Fine, then promise to never forget me,” you compromise, tears welling in your own eyes now too. “I couldn’t even if I tried,” he swears before leaning down to press one last kiss to your lips. He can taste the tang of iron and feel your tears and his mingling on your cheeks. “I love you,” he whispers against your lips as he pulls away, but for the first time since he first said the words to you, you don’t say them back. “(Y/n)? Baby, I love you,” he tries again, pulling back to look at you properly now. Your eyes remain shut, your hand falling limp from his cheek, and when he looks to your chest the rise and fall of it has ceased.

Devastation claws up through him like a rabid animal, tearing him apart as his whole world shatters around him. He feels his grief like a physical ache in his chest, radiating out to each of his limbs as if every cell of his body is violently rejecting the fact that you’re gone. “Todoroki-kun?” Midoriya asks cautiously, putting a gentle hand on Shoto’s shoulder. Shoto’s head snaps up as he cradles you closer, as if scared your body will be taken away from him too. Before Midoriya can say whatever he was going to, Denki’s voice cuts through the tense silence. “I got him!” he crows, shoving the villain down to the ground in front of his classmates. Shoto’s eyes land on the villain and instantly his grief twists into a searing rage. He gently lays your body down but his eyes are cold and lethal as he stares down the man that took you away from him. Midoriya realizes what’s happening a beat too late and by the time he reaches out to grab Shoto, the grief stricken man has already launched himself at the villain and grasped hold of him. His right hand closes around the man’s throat, ice wrapping around it like a vice grip. He’s vaguely aware of his classmates calling his name but he doesn’t care. This man stole the love of his life from him. For that he will pay. Before Todoroki can finish the job he’s suddenly being yanked back by Midoriya and Bakugo. “Let go of me!” he demands as he fights against their hold, ignoring their warnings and empty platitudes. He manages to wrench his left arm free for a brief moment and that’s all he needs. His flames shoot out, preventing Midoriya from getting a good hold of him again, and the man who murdered you goes up in flame. His howls of pain echo around the buildings around them but the sound is music to Shoto’s ears. Let him suffer. It’s a fate he deserves.

His classmates watch on in stunned horror until the villain is burned down to ash. As his flames die out so too does all the fight seem to drain from Shoto as the crushing grief returns. Bakugo let’s him go once it’s clear he’s not a threat anymore and Shoto uses his freedom to drag himself back over to your lifeless body. It’s not fair. You’re so young. He’s so young. Why was this fight even you all’s responsibility in the first place? He’s been excitedly planning his proposal to you for weeks. Now he’ll have to plan a funeral. The thought makes him physically ill and he has to turn to the side as bile climbs up his throat and he retches onto the asphalt beside him.

How is he supposed to go on without you?

Midoriya returns a hand to his shoulder as the paramedics finally arrive. It’s too late. Far too late. One of them approaches cautiously and like a dog protecting his master Shoto immediately lashes out. “Don’t you fucking touch them,” he warns, eyes cold and voice lethal. The paramedic jerks backwards, his hands up in surrender, as he cautiously looks to the other class A students for advice. They have none. They’ve never seen Todoroki like this. They can’t even begin to imagine what he’s going through. It’s Eijirou who steps up in the end. He approaches Shoto carefully, as if his classmate is a feral animal, before kneeling down to his level. “They need to take (y/n) to the hospital on that stretcher over there,” Kirishima tells him carefully, jerking his head in the direction of the waiting ambulance. “Can you carry them there for the paramedics?” he asks. Shoto stares at Kirishima blankly as if trying to process his words before slowly nodding. “Ok. Let’s go then, yea?” Kiri asks. Another nod in response before Shoto carefully gathers you into his arms. He ignores the way your body has already started to go cold as he carries you over to the stretcher. He tries to pretend they’re just rushing you to the hospital, that they’re speeding you over to recovery girl and in a few hours time you’ll be tired but cheery, teasing him for being so worried about nothing. But as he lays you down and then watches them zip you up into a black bag, he knows it’s a hopeless fantasy. You’re gone and you’re never coming back.

A few days later he sits in a black suit with a black tie and a silver chain carrying an engagement ring around his neck. He leans against Fuyumi, who sits on his left side, while his mother grasps tightly onto his right hand. Behind him Natsuo rests a steady hand on his shoulder. His father hovers nearby, unsure how best to offer his support or if his support would even be welcome. They are the only thing that keeps Shoto from falling apart. When the time comes, he stands on shaky legs and approaches your open casket. At first he’d been insistent he wouldn’t look, but his mother had argued his last image of you shouldn’t be your broken body, riddled with holes. So he looks down at you, pieced back together by some mortician, lying motionless in the nicest outfit you own and he traces every detail of you. He tries to patch over the memory of you broken on the ground that haunts him every night since it’s happened with this image of you now. He pictures all of the good and beautiful moments you’ve shared together, let’s them swell in his chest until they’re too large to contain and pour out of him through his silent tears. He leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your too cold forehead and mumbles to you again his final promise:

“I love you, (y/n). I’ll never forget you.”

#this hurt me so fucking bad to write oh my godddd #it’s so long too oh man I really said ‘you want pain? I’ll give you pain’#🤡🤡🤡#anyway even though it hurt I loved writing this #thanks for the request anon #hhrequests #shoto x y/n #todoroki x y/n #shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki

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