#the look followed by the empaths knowing tender gaze
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Whether it be ironically or purposefully, Spock is the most romantic character in TOS
We all know this but every once in a while i just remember some romantic shit hes done and i just 😍🥰😘
#it forces me to make a list#incapable of saying a bad word about kirk in court martial#proves his extreme loyalty time and time again#his grief in amok time OBVI#his anger and hatred in platos children because they used him to threaten kirks life#exhausts all possibilities before admitting kirk is dead in tholian web#removing the painful memory of a love lost#the look followed by the empaths knowing tender gaze#star trek#star trek tos#star trek the original series#spock#jim kirk#captain kirk#captain james t. kirk#spirk
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―@legolas-little-leaf | Reply to: "Why!... Why now!!"
Mirkwood fell silent. No longer had her frost-bitten branches languished in the black steeping their roots but, too, in the leave of her Prince. The sorrow of her people was kept unseen, the Guard trained bereft of their gentle leader, and they whispered of the Realm’s loss beyond the King’s ear.
Legolas was gone.
To his very bone, Thranduil empathized with their grievances. Yet, he did so alone. Such had always been his way. And in his grief, he lamented. In his grief, he reflected, recalling the many nights long ago, when he held the elfling, bathed in tears as he wept, carried him through the forest in song and groomed him in the absence of a mother’s loving hand. Still, Thranduil grieved alone. Away from the eyes of a child who had yet to understand how deep the sentiment of an Elf ran. And with that perspective, he had raised him. It was a father’s mistake to keep his son in the dark. Further, to assume he did not feel.
Naught was spoken of the Queen in the time following her death. Nor ever a question asked of him. Legolas was his father’s son. Mayhap, more than he realized. Thranduil heard not of Legolas’ curiosities, although he assumed they existed. He knew not of his anger or resentment, or of the influence it had when he left. And so, he remained heavy on his mind and deep in his heart. Ne’er were his movements beyond the King’s knowledge for a party had been sent on him every step since.
“Aran nin, Prince Legolas approaches Mirkwood’s borders. What shall you have us do?”
With no pause to his thought, he replied to the Captain, ever outwardly absent of what he felt in his heart. “Leitha e mi.” (Let him in.)
“Ada, look!” Legolas’ small voice commanded. In the cavern of his tiny hands fluttered a single firefly of the most vibrant emerald. Indeed, one of Greenwood’s greatest evening majesties were the displays of flickering lights hovering below the leaves of the tallest, tallest trees and lighting the forest’s pathways on the darkest nights. Even outside of the great woodland, their extravagance set alight the glen.
Prince Thranduil’s fatherly lectures would have Legolas immediately returning the fly to its home with the rest, but he minded the time he had left with him. War was not kind to anyone caught within it. It discriminated against no one, and it promised life to even less. He crouched as low as his armor allowed and gazed at his son, memorizing every detail of his small face. If it was to be the last thing he remembered, it would be exactly as he saw it. He would remember the way the emerald reflected off the blue of Legolas’ eyes as his features lit up in awe and excitement. And, how his ear tucked away the intricacy of a single braid crafted by his mother’s delicate fingers. Even the care he took for a being littler than he – a small insect, with a life different than his. Worthless to some, but meaningful to him.
“Don’t get lost, meleth nin.” A soothing hand rested upon Thranduil’s shoulder, and he stood, allowing his wife to fasten his blades around his waist as she carried on. “He might bring you to stay.”
“And, I might consider it.” He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead and sighed softly before his attention was returned to their child.
“Please, don’t go, Ada! Please!” Legolas’ eyes welled with tears, and in that moment of vulnerability, he set the firefly free, cooing sadly as it flitted away. It was all Thranduil needed, to know that they took their leave for something greater.
Astride his steed, he stayed by King Oropher’s side, eyes set upon his wife and young son as Kingdoms both cheered and mourned. To bring peace to Arda, they would depart these lands and join Gil-galad’s ranks against Sauron. It was Thranduil’s duty to his King, his Adar. To the Realm. To his Kin. It pained him to see the disappointment in Legolas. Not only for the bug, but for his departure. And he could make no promises to ease him that he might not keep.
By the memories of the Great Battle, he remained plagued. Still beneath the glamor, the scar upon his body festered. It wept and fed on the fears in his heart. On the ugliness his soul could not surrender. Dread filled him and it was a misery he had learned to live with. To conceal from those closest to him. A misery he would not wish on his worst enemy.
From on his horse, he gave Legolas a half-hearted smile. “You must take care of your mother while I am away. Your mother and all of Greenwood’s fireflies.”
The elfling nodded slowly, wiping his face on his sleeve. The sobbing stopped, but the tears did not. And he held onto his mother, sniffling into her gown as he peered up at Thranduil with one glossy eye.
“Oh, do not cry, little green leaf,” Thranduil pleaded, taking one last look into those sad, convicting eyes. It is all for you.
As suspected, Thranduil was sat upon his antlered throne, perched slackly as he had done since began his reign. But the air was not right. It immersed him in a hostility foreign to these caverns. One reared by a bitterness that did not suit the heart of the Elven Prince whom this realm held dear. And Thranduil made his way down to the landing on which the Prince approached and braced himself. But he had not been prepared to face his ire, nor the cruel sting of the truth in his words.
With patience, he listened. Every word like a thousand daggers unto him. Every revelation as cold and forbidding as Winter’s wind. There was no explanation that would soothe his son’s suffering. No magic that would turn time. Where very few regrets had existed, now they settled in him. And, he spoke. Gentle, but still in earnest.
“You regard not the impact on me of your choice to leave, but I digress. I have cared for you and watched you your entire life, Ion Nin. You are of my blood and flesh. You ride the wind, wild like the wood elves. With no desire to take the throne beyond my time. It was at Ravenhill, when I saw the longing in your eyes and felt your heart ache, that I believed you would not return. That, you deserved to hear what I could not say for so long.”
Down the flight of limestone steps and along the footpath, Thranduil strode, until he stood far enough to breathe in his son’s presence. To speak over the pounding in his chest.
“I taught you to live free, away from the folly and the greedy luxuries of our sister realms. To come to your own decisions and to follow your own wisdoms.”
Against the thudding of his heart, there was a long silence. He ever only did for him. All what Legolas knew was Thranduil. But their purposes were never aligned. Legolas was never meant to follow in his footsteps. Not in the way of a king. Nor was he meant to understand what his Adar endured and the decisions he made to protect him from the same sorrows. That had been decided even before he was conceived, by the gods of old.
“You have come to your own decisions, but what do your wisdoms tell you, Legolas?”
#―why!... why now!!#legolas-little-leaf#thranduil#legolas#little green leaf#so glad to have you here ion nin
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Elfwine Chronicles (new LoTR stories, Distraction posted, 4-8-23)
Dariel has wedding jitters and needs something to distract her. (Anxiety, Family, Comfort)
Distraction - (Mar, 22 IV)
Too fast. It was all happening too fast. Dariel felt panic welling up inside her at the prospect of soon standing before the King of Rohan and speaking her wedding vows. She loved Elfwine – passionately – yet this ceremony would not only make her his wife, but eventually the queen of Rohan. The walls felt as though they were closing in around her, and she tried not to let anyone notice that she was having trouble breathing normally.
To her consternation, Queen Lothiriel rose and began clearing the room of everyone but her mother, Lady Eowyn and herself. When the four women were alone, she gave Dariel a tiny wink. “I do not know about you, dearest, but all that fussing before my wedding to Eomer very nearly drove me mad!”
“I would say it did drive you mad!” Eowyn countered. “Why else would a usually rational woman postpone her own wedding so she could sneak away and be married privately – in a cave!” Everyone broke into laughter at this. It had taken a while before the entire story became known, but now the events surrounding Eomer and Lothiriel’s wedding were almost legendary in their own right. Ever since first hearing it, Dariel had envied it, thinking it both wildly romantic and certainly far less taxing emotionally. At this very moment, it was looking like a most enticing idea.
Eowyn’s eyes shifted to each of the others, and then she proposed, “Many years ago, when they were off fighting together, Faramir told me of a night before they were to return home. Our husbands were sitting around a fire, preparing to turn in for the night, when Faramir suggested they each describe their wives in a single word. What say you? Shall we take a turn at such a challenge?”
As everyone seemed in agreement, they began considering the matter.
At length, Arwen chose to go first. “Estel is...compassionate,” she offered thoughtfully. The Elf-woman rose to gaze into the fire, explaining, “Some part of him always knows when another has pain in mind or body, and he empathizes with their suffering. Then he does all in his power to alleviate it. The world of Men admires his courage, his strength, his nobility, but my heart is touched by his gentleness and compassion toward others.”
Moved by this apt tribute to a man they each knew and loved, there was a long silence before anyone else took a turn.
At length, Eowyn ventured, “Faramir is astute – in all things. He sees more than other men, and seems to understand better. Sometimes he sees things in others that they themselves do not see, and yet it is there. Whether it is kings, noblemen, soldiers or servants, he seems able to read men’s hearts and act accordingly.” The others nodded their agreement of this assessment of Gondor’s Steward.
Lothiriel elected to go next, saying, “Eomer is surprisingly complex.” Chuckles erupted in Eowyn, with Arwen following suit, and Lothiriel could not restrain a grin. Attempting to clarify, she told them, “To most, he is merely the noble King of Rohan – strong, brave and a proud, capable leader – but I see things that others are not privy to witness. I see his tenderness and passion with me, his warmth and gentleness with our children, his kindness and respect toward those who serve him, and his easy good humor with his friends. Most see only his practical efficiency, but not his intelligence and wisdom. He is so much more than what meets the eye.”
As all smiled their approval, Eowyn in particular nodded her concurrence. “Perhaps that is why the two of you fit so well together – you see far beyond the obvious in him,” she suggested.
After a moment, everyone’s eyes turned to Dariel and she shifted nervously under their regard, feeling out of place in this gathering of women. Though one was her mother, and she had known the others her entire life, Dariel was still somewhat in awe of them and did not yet consider herself equal to joining their ranks.
Forcing her attention back to the topic of discussion, she considered her betrothed carefully, then said, “Elfwine is dependable, in all things. Any task he sets himself to, he is completely reliable. I have no doubt of his love for me, of his devotion to the Riddermark, of his concern for his people. He will one day be an excellent king, but first he will make the finest husband a woman could ever hope to have.”
Lothiriel had been standing nearby and moved behind where the girl sat. Stroking her hair, she pressed a kiss to Dariel’s head, saying softly, “Nor could I ever hope to have him find a finer wife, dearest. He will be even better for having you at his side.”
Dariel could not restrain her tears at the warm endearment, and she looked up to find all the women smiling at her with understanding.
A knock sounded at the door, breaking the spell that seemed cast in the room, and Arwen laughed lightly. “It is time, iell nin. Let us go bind you to this fine man.”
Only as they made final adjustments to her dress and hair, then stepped toward the door, did Dariel realize her nerves had fled. Yes, these were extraordinary women, but canny also. They had known just what to do to relax and reassure her in those tense moments of waiting. She could do this. She could be Elfwine’s wife, and eventually Rohan’s queen.
THE END
also on AO3:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/46346377/chapters/116686798
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liar liar pt. 2
request: I have a request, the reader is dating Spencer, and she and JJ are the ones that know that Emily faked her death. I’m thinking of it taking place in “It Takes A Village,” and she has to deal with Spencer being upset with her, like he was with JJ, but it has a fluff ending? Thanks!
for: @flklrevrmre
word count: 2,192 reading time approx: 9 mins
a/n: i hope you enjoy this ending ;) and i’m elated to have so many new friends on my taglist.
masterlist
pt. 1
My ring finger traced the circumference of the wine glass I was drinking out of, while my eyes followed the marble trails of Rossi’s countertop. The team was giggling and chatting amongst themselves as I secluded myself. My thoughts were captured by my insecurities, paralyzing every fun bone I had in my body. Occasionally, I would contribute to their conversations, but only enough that I didn’t make myself seem bereaved.
After a while, it became apparent that I wasn’t participating in the festivities, which conjured Emily and JJ to step away from the group, joining me. “Hey…” JJ eased into small talk, stuffing her hands into her pocket as she approached me. I replied with a light smile, their presence uplifting my current state.
I knew what they wanted to say. I knew what they were going to ask.
Spencer.
“How are you holding up Y/N?” Emily hesitantly brought herself into the conversation. They both gazed at me with doe eyes, tenderness evident in their touch as they resided beside me.
I took my lip in between my teeth, shaking my head as the fatigue had finally caught up to me. My chest throbbed from being sore all week, my shoulders were frail from being uneasy all the time, and my heart burned with self-reproach. With every passing day, I felt my limbs grow limp and my soul go numb. In contradiction, the two halves of my brain battled one another till my doubts were left to torment me further.
With the silent response, JJ and Emily shared glances of disquietude, pondering their next steps. “Y/N?” JJ called out softly, laying a tender hand on top of mine. “You took a burden alone. That doesn’t mean you have to go through it alone,” she murmured, nodding to Emily.
“Y/N, I can’t help but feel like this is my fault,” Emily lamented. “I just...tell me that there’s a way I can help.”
“There’s nothing either of you can do…” I smiled bitterly, glancing at both of them. I squeezed JJ’s hand, feeling a film cast over my eyes. “And Emily, you had to protect Declan,” I empathize, using my other hand to pull her into a side hug. “I would’ve done the same.”
“I can tell,” Emily looked at me with somber reverence. “Especially for what you did for Spence.”
Another pang hit the center of my chest, making my ribcage sting. The mention of his name made my skin crawl instead of making my heart flutter like it used to. I wordlessly winced at Emily’s notice, trying to conceal it the best I can. “And I would do it again,” I declared, meaning every word. “I’d burn the entire world if it meant making sure that he isn’t alone. I...I know what it feels like to be confined in your head--it’s something me and him share. It’s a merciless place.”
“You really do love him, don’t you?”
“More than I can ever fathom.”
I stared at the ceiling, letting my tears travel back inside of my head. I shut my eyes, feeling a deep burn envelop my eyelids from all the crying I’ve done previously. “I spoke to him,” Emily brought up.
My attention instantly shifted to her, prompting her to elaborate. “I spoke to him when we wrapped up that case in New York,” she explained. I unknowingly leaned over, listening intently to her story. “We had a conversation about everything--you. I won’t get into details because that’s between you and Spencer, but I did encourage him to come tonight.”
My nerves did small somersaults, unable to process the new piece of information. “Are you sure?” I falteringly asked.
“I’m sure he’ll come.”
But he didn’t.
A few hours had passed, and there was no evidence of Spencer’s attendance. With another disappointment, the burden of my thoughts pried at my most vulnerable parts.
I had enough.
I rose from my seat, bidding everyone adieu as I excused myself to the backyard. Amid the formalities, I assured everyone of my well-being and that I would return soon. Their persistent objections were loud, loud enough to stifle the opening of the front door as I stepped outside.
I felt the cool air caress my shoulders while crickets chirped a nightly symphony. The moon glowed with elegance, and stars painted the sky in an ethereal light. From a distance, it looked as if the planets were mere neighbors greeting one another.
It was beautiful; it took me out of the confines of my mind.
Chatter can still be heard in the background, but somehow it blended nicely with the lively sounds of night creatures. Although what I didn’t realize was the thump of approaching footsteps behind me.
“Hey,” muttered a hushed voice.
The instant I recognized the presence, my entire body stiffened. The inside lights cast a shadow on the wooden porch I sat on, displaying a lanky silhouette on the ground. I couldn’t bring myself to move, let alone speak. My tongue was pierced against the roof of my mouth, petrified to unpack the situation at hand.
He responded to my silence with a reluctant step towards me. Even in our circumstances, I can still feel his presence lingering on the soft skin of my back, making the little hairs stand. Our proximity was slowly closing in with every soft thud until he was eventually situated next to me.
I unconsciously looked over my shoulder, opposite of him, to avoid his curious stare. I shut my eyes, isolating myself in my mind in the hopes that this was a dream. But the frequent trembles of my stomach told me otherwise.
“Y/N?” he called out delicately. “Y/N...please,” he attempted to brush my hand with his fingers, but by instinct, I retracted them with swiftness. A bolt of electricity shot up my arm from Spencer’s touch, a cruel remeberance of the fervor we used to share. My fingertips shivered at the loss of contact, but the static sensation remained.
“Y/N, I know that you probably don’t want to talk to me--and you have every right to…” he babbled. “...but I just--please just listen to me.”
But I refused, every word that fell from his supple lips made the echo in my head boisterous.
I was a mistake.
I was a mistake.
I was a mistake.
I bit the inside of my cheek, feeling my abdomen clench in misery. The sensation traveled deep into my chest, pulling me in different directions. My throat cinched up, and the coldness wandered all over my body. Every muscle in me cried out in anguish, unable to persevere through the exhaustion that I’ve let consume me.
“Y/N-”
“Please just go…” I whispered, choking on the aching sobs rising in my esophagus.
“I’ll leave...I promise,” he muttered in a pained voice. “But just...please, let me say this.”
Newfound tears threatened to spill over my eyes, the sorrow in his voice creating a void in me. With the little compassion I had left, I turned around facing his direction. Although I didn’t dare to acknowledge his gaze, instead, I settled my attention on the wood below.
“I know that it’s hard to get through to me, and I know I get stuck in my head,” he began, lowering his head. “You and I both know how hopeless it gets being alone there.”
He twiddled his fingers as he spoke, an implication of his distress. An infinitesimal part of me still yearned to comfort the man, to ease his worries away, but I didn’t have to courage to do so.
“When I get into that space, I get...I get frightened by the doubts that my mind conjures up,” he admits. “Everyone looks at me as the genius--the expectation given to me. But, only you and JJ look at me for who I am instead of who I must be for the team.”
His voice started to crack in between his words, his deliverance laced with dejection and bitterness. I rang my fingers over the textured floorboards, distracting myself from the swelling ache in my heart.
“But you Y/N…” he whispered, gazing at me with a rueful adoration. “You alone bring so much light into the obscurity of my mind. You...you make all my pains go away with nothing but a glance of your smile, ” he chuckled pitifully. “Y/N, you-”
“You told me I was mistake…” I croaked, ignoring the sharp twinge in my throat.
I finally met his gaze with a weary expression. His hair was slightly disheveled, and the bags encompassing his eyes were prominent. But it was the torment evident in them that was the most striking. His irises failed to gleam of their usual autumn hazel, and the golden specks scattered across the tender hue were dull.
“I...I know,” he struggled to admit. “But, I was wrong-”
“You...you told me I was your biggest mistake,” I reiterated, my voice coming off shaky and unstable. “Reid, you…” I paused, my pitch elevating as a whimper loomed to escape my lips. “You hurt me...so much, Reid.”
I scoffed, my vision going blurry from impending tears. Spencer hung his head in remorse, combing his hand through his curls as he attempted to keep his composure. An uneasy silence ensued that not even the blissful sounds of wildlife can mask the tautness in the air.
“I...I know,” he muttered quietly. “JJ, she told me the truth after our...after what happened at the station during the case,” he confessed. “You did all that...you took all the blame, just, so I had someone to be there with me.”
I sighed, shutting my eyes at his admission. “I didn’t...I couldn’t bear the thought of you going through it alone,” I affirmed.
“But you…” Spencer paused, shaking his head at himself. “You...did it all alone.”
All of my guards fell at the utterance of his words. My heart throbbed, and my chest ultimately gave out. Suppressed sobs wracked my entire being, slipping past my tired lips with ease. My head felt faint, and my shoulders slumped. Agony coursed throughout my body, feeling it prick every inch of my skin.
Spencer shifted next to me in an instant, engulfing me in his arms. There I wailed and cried every tear that was humanly possible. I set free the entrapped painful sentiments I’ve burrowed under my stubbornness, and I let the numbness drift out of my body. All that was left was the carcass of my grief and an apprehensive heart.
“I’m sorry Y/N...I’m so sorry,” Spencer repeated, cradling me back and forth while he tried to mask his whimpers.
For most of the night, we stayed in each other’s embrace as the moonlight graced our figures. My face was delved into the cleft of his neck, and his chin laid snugly on my head. The rise and fall of my chest was still erratic, but it was in a much healthier state than before. Our combined breathing was the only distinguishable sound floating in the air after we had steadied ourselves.
The party inside was subdued, and the chatter was nonexistent. The lights were still on, but it seemed that the team had moved elsewhere to celebrate their festivities. Before long, the quiet around us ceased as Spencer broke the silence.
“Y/N?” Spencer whispered.
I nudged my face further into his neck, prompting him to continue.
“What I said...the horrible things that I told you, you have to know that they’re not true,” he lamented, taking my balled-up fists into his palms. “Y/N, you’re far from a mistake. The biggest mistake I’ve made to date is making you believe that,” he croaked.
“Spencer...what you did-”
“Wait--just--let me finish,” he nodded, playing with my hands. “Y/N, you bring color into what I see...yo-you bring color into everything that I do,” he professed, stumbling over his words. “You make it easy to wake up every day and do what we need to do because I know I get to wake up next to you.”
His lips began to tremble, and his hands began to shake. Instinctively, I cupped his hands and brought them close to my chest.
“I…I love you...so much, Y/N,” he whimpered. “And I hate myself for making you feel like you were comparable to anyone else, or that you were insignificant.”
I pressed small kisses to his knuckles, knowing that it would calm him down. I felt a pang hit my torso in Spencer’s discomfort, igniting the part of me that longed to console him. I observed the collapse of his stature and the decomposed state of his demeanor, his appearance visibly in plight.
“Truth be told, Y/N. You are the most significant thing in my life…” he whispered. “You make me whole.”
As he finished his declaration, tears welled up in both our eyes for the last time. “Spence…” I breathed, basking in the warmth that his eyes radiated, despite his desperation.
“Loving you...is one of the greatest thing I will ever do.”
-
taglist: @rexorangecouny @howdycharlie @honeymilk-4 @linthebinbag @andreasworlsboring101 @ssareidbby @kyleetheeditor @tclaerh @jimilogy @lulwaxim @jhillio @m3ssytrash @haylaansmi @meowiemari @ashwarren32 @spencerwaltergubler
‘liar liar’ taglist: @lieswithoutfairytales @foreveryoungxx3 @goldentournesol @l0ve-0f-my-life @kenny-0909 @andiebeaword @hercleverboy
tags that don’t work: @crazymar15 @nighttimerain123
#spencer reid#Spencerreid#spencer reid Criminal Minds#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid imagines#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfiction#Spencer Reid fic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x oc#spencer reid smut#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid oneshots#spencer reid owns me#Matthew Gray Gubler#matthew gray gubler imagine#matthew gray gubler imagines#matthew gray gubler x reader#matthew gray gubler x y/n#mgg#mgg fanfiction#mgg fic#mgg fluff#mgg smut#Criminal Minds#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fic
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[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Skipped 16] [Part 17] [Part 18] [Part 19] [Part 20] [Part 21] [Part 22] [Part 23] [Part 24] [Part 25] [Part 26]
[Part 27]
28. One (or both) realizing they're in love sexy hair
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Oh.
So that’s what it felt like.
Specifically, it’s what James felt like.
Lily melted into his kiss, her hands traveling up to tangle in his hair, just as his hands left her neck and traveled down her shoulders, her arms, to her waist. His touch, sweetly gentle and caressing, sent sparks through Lily. She sighed against his lips, her fingers curling into his hair, partly to feel, partly to keep him there.
James’ hands grasped her waist in a firm grip; he tried to pull her closer but— their thighs slammed into the table, and they broke away, gasping.
“Argh,” James groaned, and then smacked the table with a palm, as if it's done him a personal offense being there— because it had.
Lily tried to steady her breath; she was warm all over, and her lips tingled with the memory of James. Blushing fiercely, she looked down at the table, at the pumpkins and the ghoulish carving she’d done and winced.
“James, I can’t…” She trailed off, and then shook her head, trying to remember words when his lips were so… And his hair, unruly from her hands… She wanted to touch again, more; her fingers twitched, wanting to reach out.
James looked stricken for a second and she realized she’d paused too long. She gestured empathically at the pumpkins.
“I can’t snog you with faces staring up at us.”
A breathless laugh escaped James, his eyes wild with relief— and want. “Yeah. Right,” he said, and wrenched his gaze from hers to glance down. He immediately scowled. “We also need to get away from this table.”
Where else though? Not the dorm— her cheeks flamed from imagining sneaking past the entirety of Gryffindor to get to his— his bed. She shook that mental image out— not a broom closet, not the—
“Fuck it,” James muttered and shoved the table toward the door, blocking it. It left a small gap through which he took a single step— and then his arms were around her waist again, pulling her flush against him.
Lily made a sound as their lips met again. This time was less tender, more fervid. She took a step back, and he followed so her back pressed against the stone wall. Her arms wrapped around his neck, clinging, holding him to her.
“I’ve wanted this,” James was saying between kisses, his confession hot whispers over her skin, “for so long.”
“I know,” Lily breathed out, and then brought his chin up with a finger, her thumb brushing along his jaw. She sought his eyes, losing herself in them. “I know, I’m—”
She thought of the years she’d spent arguing with him, the months working alongside him; never in that time had she realized who James Potter was, what he was like. Never had she tried to realize until now and…
“I’m an idiot for not knowing sooner,” she finished.
Lily felt James smile against her lips. “Nah. You’re not.”
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Halo - Bucky Barnes smut
The one where this time, he was the one to save you.
Warnings: smut, oral sex (f), very light reference to past sexual abuse, vague description of dissociating.
Word count: 2.5k
A/N: so this is for a request I got for touchstarved!Reader. It ended up becoming much more sentimental than I imagined, so not a lot of my dirty talk or the praise the original request had suggested, but I’m really proud of this work. Hope you guys like it. Shoutout to my cousin @whisperlullaby for beta reading this for me! I love you very much!
Y/N’s P.O.V.
It’d been a week since the man with the blue eyes found me in the darkness. I’d been wary back then, too accustomed to the harsh reality that was all I seemed to remember when I thought about my life, so comfortable in the cold and in the pain that anything else seemed dangerous.
I feared growing used to this new life and having it taken away from me, and he seemed to understand that. Everyone else seemed to empathize with my situation to some extent, but no one looked at me the way that he did. Like my pain was his, too. As if he knew what it was like to have everything about you ripped away, only to be left with new parts that were only useful as a reminder of things you hated.
I didn’t know how to feel about that. Most days, I only felt numb, passively watching life play out from a different window than the cell I’d grown up in. Only the scenes here were lighter, the world certainly brighter than what I thought it was.
Then some days I felt vibrant, powerful emotions that I didn’t know how to interpret, but he was always there to help me. He seemed to know exactly what I needed, and he let me cry against his chest or hit him as much as I wanted before he scooped me up in his arms and rocked me to some sort of sleep.
I don’t think he knew just how much it meant to me, even if he seemed to understand me so perfectly. Hearing his heartbeat against his chest reminded me that mine was still working inside of me. I was still here. Still alive. Still human. Despite what they did to me.
Today was one of the harder days. The patient man - Bucky, he insisted on reminding me of his name, even if I never tried to address him in any way - must have been busy, because I didn’t see him all day. And so I watched the sky change colours, admiring the view I never got to experience before - at least, not that I could remember - but when he found me, I didn’t feel like I was there anymore.
I couldn’t explain it if he asked me to, but he didn’t. Once again, he seemed to know exactly what was going through my mind, as I hugged myself by the windowsill. “It gets better, you know?” He asked, kneeling before me as he waited until I managed to tear my eyes away from the landscape out there to see the color of the sky in his eyes.
It took me a while to be able to speak. His presence was overpowering to me in a way that didn’t make me feel defenseless or threatened. It was like he intoxicated me, pushed away the confusion and fear to make me believe in a future where I wouldn’t be like this anymore.
“How do you know?” I had to ask, and when he reached out for my hands, I positioned them inside his much larger palms. The way he rubbed his thumbs on my skin slowly radiated warmth up my body, making me relax against the white wall I was leaning on.
“Because I’ve been there before.” It wasn’t the first time he’d confessed that. Even if the details of his story still weren’t made clear to me, I implicitly knew what he meant, just like he knew I didn’t need to know more right now. It wouldn’t do me any good. I already had a lot of my own trauma to work through and taking his on wouldn't make the healing process any easier.
His words did comfort me, but there was only so much he could do. And so when midnight rolled around and I was still by that same windowsill, each hour having taken a part of me that made me feel like I was still here, in this bedroom, I decided it was time to accept his offer.
Every night, before he retreated to his own quarters, he made sure to remind me that his door was always open for him, just on the other side of the hallway. Four steps and I’d be there. If I ever needed anything. If I ever started to feel like I wasn’t there.
I didn’t need to say it when he heard the knock on his bedroom door. Just two beats and he was there, looking down at me. He stared at me for a moment, and then he was pulling me in, hands running up my arms in a way he hadn’t done before. No one had.
“Come.” I followed him without question, without hesitancy. I knew he had the answers to the questions I was bearing. He was the medicine that I needed, and it seemed like it was finally time to heal.
When we stopped by the foot of his bed, he turned to look me in the eye again, but still didn’t release my hand. There was a question in his gaze, but I couldn’t identify it without his help. So he knew he had to explain it to me.
“Is it okay if I touch you?” I automatically nodded, not understanding why he was asking. No one ever had before. But surprisingly enough, my instinctive reaction had him hesitating. He cradled my face in his hands and dipped my head back so I’d look him directly in the eye.
“I’ll need to touch you where they did.” My muscles tensed at the insinuation, and I knew he didn’t miss it. But it wasn't because of the memory of when I’d been touched before, by hands much less kinder and softer than his - it was by the question.
They never asked. They just took from me, parts of me I’m sure I’d never get to see again. And here was this man, standing before what I’d become, with all these scraps of metal and blood, and he wanted what was left. He didn’t just take it because it was there. He actually wanted it.
I just couldn’t understand why. And so I asked him. The look he gave me was so inexplicable I couldn’t even begin to describe it. He looked like he was physically pained to hear my question, and his thumb rubbed softly over my cheek, almost as if he was the one who needed it to calm himself down.
Bucky’s P.O.V.
I watched her carefully, trying to take in each and every part of her while also capturing the image of her entire person all at once. Was this what she had seen when she rescued me from Hydra’s claws?
I guess now I understood it. Why she stayed, why she cared when I was the broken one. Although we were in very different positions here - I’d fallen in love with her before she was taken, I knew who she really was. But looking at her like this, there was still so much to love. So much of the person I knew, but even the new parts were beautiful too.
“Because I know you need it.” It was the first reason I could think of, but nowhere near the only one. “Because you’re beautiful. Because… I’m the reason you’re this way. And I want to make you feel good again.”
When I leaned down to connect our lips, I didn’t expect it to feel this way. Sweet and innocent, like a true first kiss, regardless of the context, regardless of our entire history together. She didn’t remember it anyway. And so I was gentle, scared to scare her away, needing this almost as much as I knew she needed it.
I remembered what it was like to get out of that hole. I remembered how she pried me away from the fortress I’d built around myself, with soft hands and sweet smiles, until I was tender enough to accept her touch without panicking.
She whimpered when I pulled away from the kiss, and I couldn’t stop the smile that painted my lips at this clear sign that I was making the right choice. This was what she needed, and my touch would bring her comfort. I didn’t have to feel guilty about it.
But still, the feeling was there, bringing bile to my stomach as I kissed down her neck and slowly took her dress with me. Seeing her naked was enough to get me hard - being near her was enough to get me aroused - even if this wasn’t about me. I just couldn’t help it. To be near her again, have the scent of her skin, the taste of her so near me was enough to make my head swirl.
And when I looked up, there were conflicting emotions on her eyes too. Like being naked reminded her of those memories I wish I could erase, but my position elicited another feeling in her, one she couldn’t easily identify.
It was desire. I could never miss that glint in her eyes, because it provoked my body into an instinctive reaction, like it knew what was to come. It knew what I needed to do to satisfy both me and her.
And I wanted her. I wanted to bury myself in her and feel connected again, to finally acknowledge that she was really here, that I got her back. I wanted to occupy her thoughts with feelings provoked by me, just so all she felt was pleasure and nothing else, not the horrors of Hydra, just love and desire.
I needed to distract her, help her reacquaint herself with her own body. Even though I desperately wanted to fuck her pain away, I knew it wouldn’t be that easy. I needed to give her cells the human warmth they so desperately needed.
I knew she needed this. I remembered what it was like to be in this exact position. And this was as impactful to her as it was to me, I realized as I watched her body twitch at the simple action of my hands spreading her legs further apart. It gave me an opportunity to reacquaint myself with her body, even if she wasn’t exactly mine again.
That day would come, I had to believe it. I thought I’d lost her forever, but I managed to find her. She was here now. I just needed to be patient. I needed to bide my time as she slowly readjusted to the real world, and hopefully then we’d get back to where we once were.
But I think no one could blame me for getting carried away. The second my tongue touched her, her knees faltered, and I had to lean her back on the bed just so I could properly lick her lower lips, collect some of her wetness so I could relish in the taste of her again.
She was too perfect, too beautiful for words, as were the little sounds she released, little gasps and half-moans that she didn’t feel comfortable letting free just yet, but I could work with that. They were enchanting all the same.
It was easy to lose myself to the habit of it all. Swirling her clit, dipping my tongue in her warm hole, slurping every single drop of her juices as they dripped out of her. I’d always loved pleasing her. Being able to do it again was nothing short of a blessing in itself. And although I was dying to feel her hands on me, I knew she needed my touch more than I needed hers.
So I let my hands travel upwards, squeezing her breasts when I managed to reach them. That earned me another gasp and a jut of her hips, making me hum against her pussy. Delicious. It was sweet seeing her like this, so innocent, so uncertain. I was used to her being the one with more initiative - at least at first. It felt like I was unveiling a new side of her I hadn’t had the luck to know before we met.
It only made me hungrier.
Y/N’s P.O.V.
I’d never been worshipped before. Or at least, I couldn’t remember anything ever coming close to this. He seemed completely devoted to me and this sinful act we were partaking in, but it didn’t seem that sinful with him.
No, it was almost holy, the way he was breaking me apart by glueing me together. His tongue spread out the liquid that seemed to pour from me, and was now covering the lower part of his face and the insides of my thighs. I had no doubt it was slowly coating the sheets underneath us, but if he wasn’t worried, then neither was I.
Just like he seemed to know what I needed without me verbalizing it, it was clear that he knew what I liked without even trying. And something inside of me told me that I had missed this, this sweet act of passion I couldn’t remember ever receiving, this feeling I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt before.
But when he asked me to watch him, I understood it. I understood it because I saw it in his eyes. This was some ancient ritual and we both had shared it before, in this life or in another one, I didn’t know. I didn’t care. All that mattered was that he was giving this to me now, teaching me that this body was here and it was mine, and it was capable of so much more than pain and violence.
With each swipe of his tongue, he taught me lessons I’d never uncovered by myself. And even so, he had the nerve to ask, in that poisonously sweet voice of his, “Does it feel good, doll?”
He knew it did. He had to know, because I couldn’t say it. And I didn’t know what else to do, either. I knew he expected something from me - I expected something from me, every part of my body was tense and taut, waiting for a snap to undo me completely, but I didn’t know how to let go.
“Don’t worry, I can wait,” was his only response. “It’s alright,” he whispered, face still hidden by my own body. “You’re right where you belong. I’ll bring you here anytime.” And this was the promise that had my world crashing down, and as it crashed, it clenched, thrashed, and throbbed and I couldn’t breathe.
But I didn’t feel broken.
I was shaking when the waves let me resurface, and when he pulled away, panic threatened to make me scream or lose my voice altogether. Would he just leave me here?
The separation wasn’t long, despite my fear. He came back to bed completely naked and gently cradled me to his chest, and in the warmth of his skin against mine, I felt better than ever before.
“You’re staying with me from now on,” he reassured me in the hug. And entwined as we were, skin to skin, heart to heart, soul to soul, I knew I’d finally be able to sleep again.
#my fics#my requests#bucky barnes request#bucky barnes requests#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes#smut#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes reader insert#bucky barnes reader#bucky barnes reader inserts
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December 1st, 2021.
Dear Lover,
The day you came into my life, I learned something that changed me forever. I wasn't a hopeless romantic by myself for no reason. The reason was you. The universe was waiting for the right time to have us meet. Not the kind of meeting where we catch the other person's gaze from across the room. Each person anticipating until someone feels adventurous enough to approach the other. It waited for us to be whole within ourselves enough to allow someone else to give gentle love and accept it. As cliche as it sounds, I thought I was ready to give up on loving love because I crave something so tender and pure in a cold society that fears authenticity and commitment. The love you see in those movies where they wait to come back to each regardless of the time passed because the feeling they give each other was elated. I was starting to feel silly that I desired a person who sees me whole and with full transparency and not run. Someone who still believes in taking time to court a woman and learn her. And there you were, seeking me time after time. Even from a distance and as a social media follower, other known as complete strangers, I would've never thought that anyone was truly watching me through a screen and reading me. But you always reached out at the right time with the right things to say every single time. I would be lying if I didn't say I was a little taken back at first. Then I realized that in the moments I felt the most alone, you always came along and swooped me off my feet without even knowing that I was only half whole just with your thoughtful words. The days where I laid in bed questioning and doubting my worth swimming in my own tears of misery, you were the only light that filled me with optimism. You showed me what tender, honest and organic love felt like. And only then did I gather that I never received such genuine love from someone before you.
I spent most of my life loving others the way you shower me with yours. The difference is I never knew what reciprocity felt like until I let you in. The scariest part was it wasn't even difficult for me to let you in. It flowed so naturally and fit just a like a puzzle piece I've been missing all along. You see me for me in ways I don't even recognize myself. Your compassion inspires me to be softer. Your ambition influences me daily. Your sincerity empathizes how I want to feel loved. I am glad that roads finally led me to you. Even though I don't know what the finished puzzle looks like, I'm ecstatic that you're the piece I've been searching for.
Sincerely yours,
A woman in love.
#chimsau#sad#sad girl hour#love#sadgirl#thoughts#poetry#poetsandwriters#my poem#poems and quotes#self love poem#love poems#lovers#first love#lost love#loveyourself#self love#self realization#self reflection#tw self destructive behavior#self destruction#self healing#letter#my love#long distant relationship#relationships#vents#vent post#exerpts from a book i'll never write#excerpts from a book i'll never write
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Empathy Ch. 7
@Pairing: Bucky x Empath!Reader
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: smut. It’s soft smut but it’s smut nonetheless.
Summary: Y/N is an empath tasked with helping the Avengers but healing only comes if you want it.
A/N: This chapter came soooo much easier than the last one. I’m really proud of this one right here. Enjoy! If you want to be tagged just send me an ask.
Chapter 6 ll MASTERLIST
You awoke the next morning tangled in Bucky’s arms and legs. It took you a few moments to remember where you were and why there was another person wrapped around you. When it dawned on you that you and Bucky had spent a peaceful night in each others arms, uninterrupted by terrifying visions, you couldn’t stop your smile. You carefully turned yourself over so you could face Bucky without waking him. You looked at his serene face, his long eyelashes splayed out on his cheeks, and his full lips soft and relaxed and you thought your heart might burst. Bucky stirred in his sleep. He pulled you closer and buried his face into the crook of your neck and shoulder and you giggled at the scratch of his beard.
“You’re waking me up doll. You’re all excited and you’ve got my heart pounding,” he murmured.
“Sorry Bucky. But you didn’t have any nightmares. I was just happy,” you replied.
“I know. Dreamt abut you instead,” he said as he started to peck featherlight kisses on your neck.
“What kind of dreams?” you asked, your stomach fluttering.
“All kinds of dreams,” he said. He finally opened his eyes to look at you and his own were twinkling darkly. Your breath stopped at the look in his eyes and the two of you lay staring at each other like that till the air was thick with tension. Bucky shifted up so his face was next to yours on the pillow and began to place kisses on your eyelashes and nose as he’d done the night before. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you impossibly close to him. Your breath was caught in your chest as he got closer and closer to your lips. Finally, finally, when you felt like you would fly apart if he didn’t, he brought his lips to yours. It was tender and soft until it wasn't. Your arms were around his neck and your hands tangled in his hair and his warm hands were at your waist and your stomach and your ass. You don’t know who came up for air first but eventually you broke the kiss and pressed your foreheads together, both breathing heavily. Bucky continued to lay little kisses on your face. Your eyes were closed but you felt a tear slip out from under your lashes as a shudder ran through your body. Bucky pulled back from kissing you and opened his eyes you find your tears flowing freely. He brought his hands up to your face to wipe away your tears and brush the hair out of your face.
“What’s wrong little love?” You were silent for a beat as you tried to organize what you were feeling.
“You love me,” you eventually sighed, opening your eyes to look into his clear blue ones.
“Of course I do! I told you last night and nothings changed,” Bucky replied.
“I know it’s just, I can feel it. I can feel it and it fills me up and makes me stronger and I… I’ve just never felt that before.” Bucky’s look of concern broke into a smile and he kissed you again, this time shifting so he was on top of you caging you in with his arms, making you feel little and loved.
“I love you, Y/N, and if you’d let me, I’d like to show you,” he said, his eyes darkening again. You nodded. He kissed you slowly as he inched his leg in between yours. You felt your stomach tighten and you moaned softly into his kiss. Bucky began to inch his hand down your body. He took your leg and hitched it up over his waist as he groped your ass. Your heart was pounding wildly as you felt the emotions building in your chest. You quickly broke the kiss.
“Wait,” you said pulling away from Bucky slightly. Bucky looked horrified. He immediately pulled his hands off you and made space between the two of you.
“I’m so sorry,” he rushed to say and you cut him off with a laugh turning his look of horror into one of confusion.
“No, no. it’s nothing like that,” you said holding his face to allay his fears. “It’s just, sex with me can be pretty… intense. Emotionally.”
“Well, I cant say I’m surprised,” Bucky said with a chuckle.
“Yeah… not a shock obviously. It’s just… I’ve kind of avoided it because of that,” you said avoiding Bucky’s gaze.
“We don’t have to do anything, darlin’,” Bucky said and you loved him even more for it.
“No,” you said, “No I want to, I really want to, it’s just, well… you’ve been warned.” Bucky laughed at that.
“Noted,” he said as he closed the gap between you once again. He brought his lips to yours and you were lost. Lost in the ocean of your love for each other and every wave threatened to overtake you. You anchored yourself to Bucky and felt peace in the storm.
The two of you were a tangle of arms and legs and Bucky’s hands were everywhere- massaging your breasts and tweaking your nipples, tickling down your sides, and dipping into your core where you needed him most. You moved as one, as though you’d been together the whole time. You both felt dizzy with the mutual love that was swirling between you two.
“Need you Bucky, please,” you breathed out and Bucky obliged. He lined up with your entrance and slid in in one perfect motion, the two of you connecting as though you were made for each other. He set a steady rhythm and you could feel the air in the room growing thick with electricity as the coil in your belly tightened. You whimpered as Bucky brought his fingers down to your bud and you felt as taut as a tightrope. It was only seconds before you snapped and a crack of thunder pealed through the room as you reached your high. Bucky didn’t stop as the waves crashed over you and you immediately felt yourself building again.
“One more for me darlin, I know you’ve got it in you,” he said, his deep voice sending tremors through you. His lips trailed down your neck till they reached your erect nipple which he took between his teeth. The sensations were too much for you and you came again almost immediately as Bucky followed right behind you. Thunder cracked and electricity bounced around the room as you came down from your highs. The sockets in the walls popped and cracked and everything went dark as the lightbulbs flared bright and exploded. You both looked at the mini lightening storm filling the room and burst out laughing
“Well that’s new,” you exclaimed as the storm petered out.
“That’s… what the… is that going to happen every time!?” Bucky asked looking around bewildered.
“I have no idea!” you said. “I think we blew a fuse,” you said seriously and you both burst out laughing. Bucky flopped down beside you and pulled you close. There were goosebumps breaking out on both your skin as you held each other tight.
Bucky turned to you, his expression open and honest where it used to be so closed off. You smiled to see him so happy and reached out to run your finger down his cheek and along his jawline.
“I love you,” he said. “And I’d love to wake up next to your happy little heart forever.” You covered your face at his confession and sobbed with joy. He wrapped himself around you, and gently kissed the top of your head.
The afternoon went pretty much the same as the morning, you and Bucky wrapped tightly around one another, electricity crackling through the room until Steve came and pounded on the door.
“Can you two cut it out!? The whole compound is going bonkers!” He exclaimed.
Bucky leapt off the bed and you managed to figure out what he was doing and cover up just in time. Bucky whipped open the door and stood there stark naked in all his glory.
“Gotcha all wound up, Cap?” Bucky asked smirking. Steve just pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.
“Mission briefing in 10 minutes,” he said completely exasperated. “You too, Y/N.”
“You got it Cap!” You said, saluting from the bed. Steve let out another heavy sigh and walked away.
Bucky closed the door and the two of you burst into laughter.
10 minutes later found you and Bucky walking down the hall hand in hand. You glanced down at your intertwined fingers and your heart did a happy dance. Bucky looked at you and smiled, stopping mid stride to kiss you. Soon you were pressed up against the wall, lost in each other’s love. Steve poked his head out of the door and shouted,
“Would you two give it a rest! Everyone’s waiting, come on.” You broke apart in a fit of giggles and quickly followed Steve into the briefing room. Steve stood at the front of the room glaring at you and Bucky and you quickly settled down adopting serious, professional faces.
“First a round of applause for the happy couple. We’re all so glad it finally happened,” Steve said clapping along with the rest of the group. “Second, you two are only allowed to do it at night. People were jumping each other in the hallways and we had to go to the backup generators.” You groaned and hid your face in embarrassment while Bucky roared with laughter.
“Very funny, yes,” Steve said rolling his eyes. You could tell he was actually quite happy for you and his best friend. “Now, we’ve got a mission,” he said. His tone was serious and Bucky, who was still shaking with laughter, sobered up immediately.
“Y/N, your father is here, in a little known South African rainforest on the outskirts of Nelspruit. Very remote, very hard to get in unseen. It’s going to require a two day ride down the Crocodile River. And yes, it’s appropriately named so stay in the boat. From what we can tell on satellite the base is fully loaded with 100 agents. And since human experimentation is the name of the game there will be hostages. We’re bringing in some extra fire power for this one. I feel confident we can take the base, save the hostages, and bring down Dr. Y/L/N. Y/N your job, along with Bucky, is to find your father, subdue him with your powers, and capture him alive. Alright?” He asked glancing around the room, his eyes landed on you. You nodded firmly, your mouth too dry to speak. “Ok, we leave in 20 minutes. Suit up.” He finished with a nod.
“I don’t have a suit,” you muttered under your breath to Bucky. Your nerves were affray and he could feel it.
“Yes you do,” Tony Stark said as he came striding into the room carrying a large silver suitcase. You jumped up in surprise and Tony stuck out his hand in greeting. You took his hand and shook it feeling a bit stunned.
“Quick, what am I thinking,” he asked.
“It would be rude to say,” you replied with a smirk. You and Tony were definitely going to get along.
“Hey Tinman,” Tony said peeking around you at Bucky, who jerked his head up in greeting.
“Why am I Tinman if you’re the one in the can?” Bucky asked sharply.
“Good question, good question. I’ve got one for you, what the hell did the two of you do to my power grid?” Tony asked with his eyebrows raised.
“Yeah, I have some questions about that myself,” you said awkwardly.
“Those question would be better directed to the good doctor,” Tony said, jerking his head toward the man walking through the door who you immediately recognized as Bruce Banner. He looked nervous as he conversed with the demi-god who followed him.
“Or maybe Thor would know. Ask one of them, please don’t make me answer any sex questions involving Barnes.” You nodded, your cheeks glowing pink. Your first conversation with Tony Stark and you were casually chatting about your sex life.
“What’s in the case,” Bucky asked, feeling your embarrassment and changing the subject.
“Glad you asked,” Tony said hoisting the case onto to table in front of you. He offered his thumbprint and clicked the latches and the case sprang open revealing a sleek suit made with black fabric arrayed with black throwing stars. You stared in wonder.
“Now, I understand that, aside from being a super solider, you’re also combat trained?” Tony questioned.
‘I’m shield trained. I’m no Black Widow but I can take down your bog standard Hydra goon,” you replied, your eyes still focused on the deadly point of one of the throwing stars. “How’d you know?” you asked tearing your eyes away from the gleaming metal and fixing Tony with a stare just as sharp.
“Tip from a mutual friend,” he answered.
“Fury,” you muttered.
“Throwing stars, huh?” Bucky asked glancing up at you. You simply nodded and let Tony do the talking, which he seemed very happy to do.
“Y/N is about as good with a throwing star as you are with a knife, is that right? She’s been training with them since she was a teenager,” Tony explained.
“It’s true,” you answered searching Bucky for his thoughts on the matter. He seemed relieved to find you had some battle skills and wouldn’t be walking into this mission unprepared.
“Well the stars are carbon fiber steel. The suit is a bit more high tech. It’s micro mesh kevlar, strongest stuff out there save vibranium. And its woven with a living polymer that will heighten and focus your abilities. Be careful, you’re going to be a lot stronger than you’re used to.” You glanced up at Tony who held your gaze. “Don’t let your emotions run away with you, we want your father alive.” You nodded in understanding.
“Alright. Like the old man said, suit up.”
TAGLIST:
@saiyanprincessswanie @emmabarnes @sirenphrynne @starlightcrystalline @alexakeyloveloki @strangersstranger @thefridgeismybestie @pspice639 @thejupe89 @xpurpleglitter @capsgrl @nacho-bucky @redbarn1995 @maybe-a-marvel @toe-vind-ek-jou @ellefran @ginger-swag-rapunzel
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All That Was Fair
Chapter 27: Fraser Publishing Part 2
Summary: Claire and Jamie finish out their day at work
Read on AO3
Read chp 27 on tumblr below the cut
Previous, master list, next
a/n: A huge thank you to my friend @isthisclever (/isthiscleverr on twitter ;) ) for being an amazing beta for this chapter and also dealing with my writer's block/overall overthinking <3. Go check out her story "The Other Side," which one of my favs and is almost completed, ahh! While you're at it, maybe just stalk her whole AO3 page.
Thank you so much for your patience, lovely readers. I managed to get past the writer's block, and this 5k if what just sorta happened after a month of not writing. Hope you like it!!
*
Chapter 27: Fraser Publishing Part 2
The air felt heavy despite the fresh scents and slight breeze. Hand in hand with Claire, Jamie walked slowly around the trail that wound its way in a meandering circle around the park. If he was being honest, he was stalling, trying to give them both time to gather themselves before going back to Fraser Publishing. Jamie couldn't ignore the grief tugging at his insides, but he forced it down deep, praying that Claire couldn’t feel it from where she held onto his hand like it was her lifeline.
Oh Christ, if she could feel how his grief was eating him up inside...
A cloud hung over them for a long while, but Jamie was trying his best to reassure Claire with comforting touches and sweet words.Gradually, her face began to lift, and he caught sight of the spark of his faerie beneath the sheen of guilt and lost potential blanketing her face. It was still clearly on her mind, though, and Jamie couldn’t shake the discomfort that he was trying to shove itself forward from the pit of his stomach and the back of his mind.
It was well past lunchtime and when he should have taken her back, but he couldn’t seem to bring himself to force her to go inside when she still seemed so… off.
Apparently that was the right decision because at one random moment, Claire stopped him and abruptly pulled him into a hug.
“What was that for, my wee faerie?” Jamie asked, brushing a few stray curls away from her forehead after holding her for a long moment.
“I love you,” she said simply.
There clearly was more on her mind. In that moment, he didn’t know whether to push her or to leave her be. He tilted his head down, catching her gaze, praying silently that he was making the right decision.
“What’s botherin’ ye, a leannan?” he asked. He slipped his fingers under her chin and lifted her face higher so he could press a soft kiss to her lips.
“I just..” she started, but cut herself off to take a deep breath. “I just… I don’t know how to tell you how I’m feeling, Jamie. I’m sad. But also I’m so, so happy. I want to be with you, be happy with you—” she tugged on his hand which was still gripping hers “—forever. I just… want it to last, I suppose?”
“It will, Sassenach,” he assured in an exhale. “It will, lass.
“I,” her eyes filled with unshed tears, and Jamie wished he could take them all in the palm of his hand and keep them from spilling from her eyes. She didn’t cry, though, just blinked watery eyes up at him. “I know we haven’t talked much about… the rest of our lives… but— talking about not having babies today just made me think. Maybe... maybe I’m not meant to be forever for you?”
Jamie’s heart dropped below his toes, sinking down through the grass beneath his feet and likely down into the very core of the earth. He could barely force the words out through his suddenly raw throat when he asked shakily, “Do… do you no’ want that, Claire?”
She shook her head so violently that the curls swished back and forth over her face. The expression of horror at the question eased Jamie considerably, and her answer fully assuaged the rest of the rising panic.
“I do want that, Jamie. From the second I ran to you from that hill I knew it was forever. I love you more than the life that was mine. I just… if that’s not what’s best for you, I wouldn’t take the rest of your life from you. Your dreams.” It was her turn to raise a hand to his face, cupping his cheek with oceans of tender, selfless concern swimming in her eyes.
“It’s always been forever for me, Sassenach,” he told her firmly, voice low. He believed it with every bone in his body. “And I told you before, I have no life but you, Claire.”
She blinked, and he could tell she was trying very hard not to break down into tears.
If he could have, he would have gotten down on one knee and proposed to her then and there. He knew it was forever, and he wanted desperately to share that with her, but there were conversations that needed to be had and preparations to be made before he could.
He let go of her hand and raised both to her face. He held her between his hands, cradling his whole entire world between his palms. Beseeching her to listen, he held her gaze for a long moment.
“I dinna have to be an empath like you to ken that ye’re still feelin’ guilty, mo ghraidh,” he said. “Please, listen to me. I wouldna tell ye this if it werena true.” He took a breath. “If you could gi’ up yer old life, yer people, yer home… for me... it is nothin’ for me to no’ be able to have biological children. I would trade everything I have to keep ye. Everything. And I wouldna think twice. I want ye forever, Sassenach, whatever that means.”
Her cheek was so soft under his fingers, and he was startled to find wetness there. He glanced up to her eyes to find that she’d finally lost her control and tears were escaping to roll down her face.
“Please, dinna cry anymore,” he pleaded, “I canna bear for ye to be in pain.”
“I’m not crying because I’m sad, Jamie,” she whispered. “I’m crying because I love you.”
***
Walking back inside Fraser’s Publishing some time later, Claire seemed much more at peace. She no longer visibly waged war inside herself, and Jamie felt like he could finally breathe. The heartache they’d shared was far from over, but at least its troubles for that day could be left outside in the park.
As they came inside, they were greeted by Mrs. Crook, who immediately beckoned them over to her desk with an eager wave.
“Claire, darling! I have some homemade cookies I thought ye might like to try…”
“That’s verra kind, but she has food allergies, Mrs. Crook. She doesna accept food from anyone,” Jamie quickly cut in.
“Oh, well,” Mrs. Crook looked back toward Claire again. “I saw ye wi’ the Murray weans earlier, dear. Maybe ye would be interested in seein’ some photographs of my darling grandbairns?”
The woman was clearly desperate to bond with Claire, and Jamie couldn’t help but feel proud to see how much of an impression his lass had made. Claire shot him a quick smile, giving him a nod and a look that said “I’ll be alright.”
“I’ll meet ye back in my office,” Jamie said, leaning down to press a quick kiss to the top of her curls.
Before she could even reply to him, Mrs. Crook had snagged her arm and was herding her over to her desk, Claire good-naturedly following while blowing Jamie a kiss.
Leaving the ladies in peace, Jamie started toward his office. Before he’d even made it out of the reception area, however, he found himself face-to-face with Geneva Dunsany, forcing him to grind to a halt.
Geneva was one of the lower level staff members in marketing and a relatively new hire. Jamie usually only hired people he knew personally, but John had insisted on her as a favor to her father, a longtime family friend. Jamie didn’t know much about her other than that she was competent enough at her job that he never had to interact much.
But here in front of him stood the dark-haired lass, her face caked in makeup that was a shade too dark and her fake lashes blinking up at him.
“I wondered if I might have a moment,” she asked.
Jamie spared a glance behind him, checking that Claire was alright. Upon seeing her chatting away with Mrs. Crook over a picture on the reception desk (and hopefully not in immediate danger of revealing her secret), he turned back to Geneva.
“Of course. What can I do for ye?”
“I had a question about… Well, I thought I might ask you to have a look over some quarterly reports I’ve completed.”
As she was speaking, Jamie shot another look over his shoulder. He couldn’t help but worry about Claire when she wasn’t by his side, and he was impatient to get her tucked safely away in his office so he could finally get some real work done.
Geneva was clearly displeased by his less than courteous behavior.
“Mr. Fraser,” she sighed.
He turned back toward her, reminding himself of his dedication to his company— as distracted as he was, an employee didn’t deserve to be treated like this.
Geneva was already speaking again. “I was wondering if perhaps later today you could come by my office? Or I could come to yours?”
“Ms. Dunsany, I’m afraid I’m verra busy at the moment and I’ve lost a fair bit of time already… Perhaps ye could take it up wi’ John instead?”
“But…” her response faded from his attention as a familiar wee hand suddenly wrapped itself around his bicep and a body pressed flush against his side.
At Claire’s sudden appearance, Geneva cut herself off mid sentence, her painted mouth falling open into a disgruntled “o.”
“Hi, my love,” Claire all but purred to Jamie, giving his arm a squeeze. She tugged him slightly downward, enough so that she could stand on her tiptoes and press a kiss to his cheek.
Jamie was left bewildered as one of her hands snaked over to plant itself firmly on the center of his chest and rub back and forth.
“Hi, mo ghraidh, ehm—” he struggled to find words as Claire gave him another kiss, this time to his shoulder. He could barely focus his mind as it seemed her hands were everywhere at once: stroking his chest, rubbing his arm. What the devil had gotten into her?
He finally remembered what he was trying to do, and managed out a weak, “This is Geneva, our…” her job title flew out the window as Claire’s hand went from his chest to hook into one of his belt loops on the opposite side, effectively stopping his heart and his brain in one simple motion.
“Geneva, this is Claire,” the words burst out in a rush with zero brain cells behind them as he desperately tried to fulfill his social duties in the face of his girlfriend’s advances.
He lowered his head to try to catch a glance at Claire’s face, to make eye contact and glean some sort of clue about what had gotten into her, but he found she wasn’t even looking at him. Instead, her eyes were fixed straight ahead, right on Geneva.
“Hello,” Geneva said, a hint of disapproval in her voice. She took a step back from them as her eyes flicked up and down.
“Hello,” Claire replied, but her tone made Jamie start. Never before had he heard his faerie— his joyful, bubbly, loves-everyone-without-discrimination faerie— sound so cold. Her voice was low and steady, without even a hint of smile.
Jamie’s brain went on high alert as Geneva reached a hand out for a handshake. They had rehearsed this in the car (not that Claire’d had a chance to use it yet with all the hugs she’d been giving out), but Jamie was worried that all the training had gone from her mind when she had apparently lost her marbles.
However, Claire removed her right hand from where it had been placed over Jamie’s stomach to reach out and clasp Geneva’s while keeping herself firmly glued to Jamie’s side.
He could feel her stiffen against him the moment the two lasses made contact, and then, as if a rubber band had been snapped, Claire withdrew her hand and turned to Jamie with a jerk.
“I need something from your… room, darling,” she said forcefully, clearly forgetting the word for office.
“Of course, a leannan, what do ye—”
Before he could finish getting out his question, Claire was stepping in front of him to drag him away. He allowed himself to be tugged off by his faerie, leaving behind a nonplussed and rather displeased looking Geneva.
When they got down the hall to his office, Claire all but shoved him inside. Jamie stumbled through as Claire shut the door behind them. He was just beginning to ask, “What the devil has gotten into ye—?” when Claire was suddenly on top of him, her lips claiming his so insistently that it was almost an attack rather than a kiss.
His words were muffled by her lips, and he found himself getting shoved up against a wall as she took his mouth. All protestations died in his throat and her strange behavior was wiped from his mind as her kiss clouded his senses, filling him so entirely. He let her tangle her fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck, pulling him down to her, and he didn’t resist even as she tugged hard and her tongue swiped into his mouth.
He was fairly certain that she would be the death of him, but he was more than willing to die of asphyxiation if it meant that her lips wouldn’t leave his. Her mouth pressed hot against his, demanding and consuming. Still, as his lungs screamed for air, and he urgently squeezed her waist where his hands were resting.
She tore her lips away, gasping for breath, and then stood there, panting. She was quite a sight. Her hair was mussed, lips puffy, and her eyes held a hard look, darker than he’d ever seen them before.
What the hell?
“What— what was that?” Jamie gasped, barely able to find his breath. Claire had clearly stolen it from him during that heated kiss, right along with his wits and perhaps even his free will.
“You’re mine,” Claire said hotly, drawing closer again so her body could press against his as she said it. Her eyes blazed as they locked with Jamie, as if daring him to disagree.
“Of course I’m yours, mo nighean donn, but what brought this on?”
Claire had been in the process of leaning in to trail a line of kisses down his neck when he spoke, and she halted on her second kiss to draw back with a huff.
Clearly bothered, she looked almost dangerous as she said in a low voice, “Geneva. She wants you.”
“What?” it was almost a laugh as Jamie reacted to her claim.
Claire took a tiny step back so she could properly meet his eyes, and then said, very resolutely, “She does, Jamie. I touched her, I know. I could tell even before I felt it that she wanted you.”
Jamie’s mouth fell open at this revelation. He knew better than to protest, and upon hearing her confirmation, he realized that Geneva had been rather forward lately, but that didn’t mean she…
Looking at Claire’s heated expression, it clearly did. His lass was inflamed. Her cheeks were flushed, pupils dilated, and her jaw clenched tightly.
Jamie couldn’t help it as a smirk began to turn up the corner of his lips and a warm feeling of something akin to satisfaction spread in his chest.
“So ye’re tellin’ me… that whole scene outside, and then you all but attackin’ me in here… was because ye were jealous?”
“Well,” Claire shifted on her feet slightly, for the first time in several minutes breaking free from her severe look, “yes. You’re mine, and she—”
“Aye, I’m yers, mo ghraidh, no doubt about it,” he confirmed without hesitation, making sure she knew it was the absolute truth of his heart, “jes’ as ye’re mine.”
He couldn’t help but smile though as the pieces all fell into place. She’d seen him from across the room and gotten jealous, so she had marched on over to stake her claim on him before demonstrating her power by stealing him away, only to kiss the living daylights out of him. It all made sense now. Her behavior wasn’t random. It was possessive.
“You’re enjoying this!” Claire exclaimed, looking up at him with an open mouth. She was trying to sound appalled, but he could see the smile she was trying to smother turning up the corners of her lips.
The laughter bubbled up from his chest, and he grabbed her around the waist to pull her against him as he chuckled. “Ye’re too much, mo nighean donn. And it only makes me love ye more and more.”
Despite herself, she started laughing too, grabbing his shoulders as he hauled her against him.
“I suppose it was rather… petty,” she admitted, biting her lip.
“Mmmm, the way ye kissed me, though. I think I wish more lassies would take a fancy to me jes’ to get that reaction from ye again…”
She smacked him lightly on the chest, but she was still smiling as he leaned down to peck her on the lips.
“You don’t need silly girls to want you in order to get me to kiss you like that…” Claire teased, standing on her tiptoes so she could hover her lips over his.
“Oh, is that so? What must I do, then?”
“Absolutely nothing,” she breathed.
And then her lips were on his again, and she showed him exactly how little he had to do.
*
Jamie lost another solid twenty minutes of work time due to the makeout session with Claire that ended up with him pressed against his desk and Claire doing her darndest to make him lose every ounce of self control he’d ever possessed. He’d never been more grateful in his life that his office window had blinds and a locking door.
As nice as it was to have the very enjoyable attentions of his love, he had wasted so much of the day away already, and there was work to be done. He reluctantly detached his faerie, pulling her away by the waist while she murmured a protest.
Jamie swiped a thumb over her puffy lips as she pouted at him, resisting the urge to laugh.
How he loved her with his whole heart.
“Sorry, Sassenach, I really hafta finish up some work before everyone leaves for the day, and at this rate, I willna ever be able to stop kissin’ ye.”
She caught his fingers in a quick kiss before she frowned. “I don’t understand why all of you are so caught up with ‘work’,” she commented with distaste.
“I’m beginnin’ to agree wi’ ye, Sassenach,” Jamie snorted. The temptation to throw everything out the window and pay attention to absolutely nothing save this alluring creature in front of him was nearly enough to drive him mad. But Jamie loved his work, cared about his business, and he had to have some self control— what few scraps remained.
“Why dinna ye look through some of my books on the shelves while I work? I ken ye canna read the words, but there are some verra beautiful illustrations— uh, pictures, drawings— in some of them.”
Jamie cursed himself for not bringing adequate entertainment for her. Although, beyond Adso, the space heater, and the garden— well, and him, of course— Jamie wasn’t sure what exactly entertained Claire.
She agreed with only a brief pout, and Jamie could finally let out the breath he’d been holding when she was safely across the room, browsing the bookshelf. Feeling his heart rate finally descend (was it safe for it to be that elevated for that long?) he settled down in front of his computer.
He managed to get a good chunk of work done while Claire busied herself with flipping through nearly every book he owned. It turned out that it was an excellent idea, as she seemed well entertained. Every once in a while, Jamie would hear a gasp and have to look up to see the adorable expression of wonder on Claire’s face as she discovered another illustration. It was mainly the kids books, he noticed, that really wowed her. Likely because she could follow the story based on the pictures, and she grew absorbed. Before long, there was a semi-circle of opened books surrounding her on the floor. It warmed him to notice that she never closed them— always leaving them open when she found an illustration she particularly liked, as if she wanted to go back and see it again.
Despite her fascination and apparent entertainment, it was what felt like a short time later when Jamie was interrupted from deep concentration by a hand sliding up his arm to rest on his shoulder.
“Claire, what are ye—?” he started, but was cut off when both of her hands smoothed over his shoulders.
“You’re so tense,” came her smooth voice startlingly close to his ear.
“Aye,” he said, rolling his shoulders, “I tend tae carry my stress there when I’m workin.”
“I don’t want you to be tense.” Her breath tickled his ear, and a shiver rolled down his spine. Warm hands began kneading into his shoulders, digging into the soreness of the muscles. Her touch was the perfect mix of gentle and strong, pulling the tension from his body. He couldn’t help the sigh that fell from his lips.
Her hands didn’t let up their work, but she sometimes paused to smooth over his shoulders in broad strokes. Without meaning to, his hands fell away from the keyboard and his head tilted back. His eyes were closed in relaxation… when had he closed his eyes?
He realized distantly that Claire was murmuring soothing words above him.
“Does that feel good? Let out the tension, darling. There. I’ve got you.”
She hit a particularly tense knot, but the magic of her fingers had it loosening after only a second.
“Oh Lord,” he breathed, feeling like he was in a trance. “Ye’re so good at this. I—”
His eyes suddenly popped open and he bolted up in his chair, “Christ, lass. Ye’re doin’ yer best tae distract me from my work, are ye no’?”
“Shhh, don’t worry about it, just relax, my love,” she murmured into his ear, pressing down on his shoulders to get him to sit back in his chair again.
He was onto her game now, though, and reached up to grab her hand and still her.
“I have tae work, lass.”
“I’m not stopping you,” she replied.
The hand he hadn’t seized stroked over his shoulder. Feeling unequipped to the task of arguing with her, Jamie simply let go and brought his hands back to the keyboard.
Alright, Fraser. This is a simple game. If you stop giving her attention, she’ll get bored and leave ye be.
He focused all this attention on the computer screen, ignoring her as she continued her ministrations. It wasn’t the best job, but he managed to type out a few sentences before suddenly there were soft lips tracing the shell of his ear.
Another shiver ran down his spine, and there was a slight tug of teeth on his earlobe before she kissed it again, soothing the spot with a flutter of breath.
“Sassenach,” he said in a warning tone.
“What? I’m not stopping you,” she replied innocently before stooping lower to brush her lips— just barely— down his throat.
“Ye ken verra well that ye are,” he sighed, the sound turning from frustration to pleasure as she hit a particular spot that made his stomach twist.
Her fingers were tracing just barely under his shirt, tucking themselves inside the collar. She didn’t seem to be listening, or maybe it was just that she didn’t care, because she refused to respond to the protestation. Instead, she breathed out, “Do you know you have beautiful collarbones?”
“I didna ken, and I thank ye for the observation. May I return to my work now?” Jamie asked, trying to keep the pleading from his tone.
She hummed to herself, “I’m not standing in your way.”
Okay. So maybe he wasn’t quite strong enough to ignore it. And she was in no mood to free him from her clutches on her own accord.
Swivelling so abruptly in his chair that Claire nearly fell over backward in surprise, he faced her. He took her hands in his and brushed his thumbs over the back of her knuckles.
“Listen, lass. There’s no way I’ll get anythin’ done while ye’re toyin’ wi’ me, and I still have much to do. So let me make ye a deal. Gi’ me one hour wi’out interruptions, and I’ll… well…” Jamie found himself at a loss for bargaining chips. Ifrinn. The lass had him so well in the palm of her hand that he already gave her whatever she wanted. He decided to flip it and open it up to her. “What do ye want? In return?”
Her eyes flashed with excitement and a twinkle of mischief. Jamie braced himself for some devious declaration or demand for a game that would prove tortuous for his self control, but instead of anything like that, Claire surprised him by smugly requesting, “I want one hour in front of the heater.”
Jamie nearly laughed out loud. He’d come to realize that the lass thought that the space heater was a precious, exhaustible commodity, not some piece of junk hooked up to electricity. He hadn’t wanted to disavow her of that notion for fear that she’d spend every waking second in front of it instead of with him, and it seemed now it was going to play the situation to his advantage.
“I think I may be able tae make that happen,” he said slowly, keeping his cards close to his chest.
“With you!” she added quickly, narrowing her eyes, “for the full hour.”
“Do we have a deal then?” he asked, putting on his best business face.
“We have a deal,” Claire nodded primly.
Rather than a handshake, Jamie opted for a quick peck of lips. As Claire drew away and made to head back toward the bookshelf on the opposite corner of the room, she looked like a cat that got the cream.
Better luck next time, lass. If you wanna bargain, better come knowing what’s of value.
Feeling smug in his own right, Jamie returned to his work. This time, it wasn’t his girlfriend’s hands on him distracting his mind. Rather, it was the unshakable feeling of fondness that filled his stomach and warmed him to his toes.
***
“Hey, Jamie?” Claire asked, breaking the silence about 45 minutes into the agreed hour.
“What is it, a leannan?”
He tore his gaze from his computer to find Claire looking up at him from where she sat on the floor at the foot of the bookshelf. Her arms were wrapped around her middle, and she looked so wee curled up in the corner, shooting him a troubled gaze with eyes that were round as a doe’s.
“I’m cold.”
Brows furrowing, he abandoned his work— in the middle of a sentence no less— and went to her. She was shivering, despite it being rather balmy in his office.
His wee faerie, typical.
“Here, lass.” Jamie stripped off his suit jacket to wrap around her shoulders. She took it gratefully, her hands brushing Jamie’s at the edges. That bit of contact jolted through him, shattering any notions of him returning to his work straight away, and he fell to his knees beside her so he could wrap her in a hug.
She melted instantly into his arms, laying her head on his shoulder. He smoothed his hands up and down her back, and it was at that moment that he felt her shivering.
“Christ, lass, ye really are cold,” he burst out in concern.
“It’s cold,” she repeated, shifting herself within his arms to burrow closer.
“It’s no’ this cold,” he breathed.
She didn’t say anything, just trembled against him. She withdrew her hands from around his middle and instead tucked them against his chest between where their bodies were pressed together.
Jamie bit his bottom lip and repositioned himself to get comfortable. It seemed he was in for a longer break from his work than expected. His heart was beginning to beat faster as anxiety for his love rose in his chest.
“This is more than temperature, a ghraidh,” he said softly.
She shook her head where it laid on his shoulder but made no move to raise it and look at him.
“Ye were fine all mornin’,” he noted quietly as his brain began working in earnest.
“I’m fine now,” Claire insisted, her voice muffled from where her mouth pressed against Jamie’s shoulder.
“I dinna think ye are,” Jamie finally said out loud, admitting the fear that had been rattling around inside of him for days now. He’d watched the little things add up, even worried over them, but every time he managed to convince himself it was nothing. Even just this morning he’d thought perhaps everything was in his head. Now, however, it was just another item to add to the growing list that was too long to be coincidence.
“I told you, Jamie. It’s nothing,” Claire said, her voice gaining an edge to it. “I can feel you worrying.”
Jamie swallowed thickly. A rush of guilt washed over him, and he wondered whether she could feel that too. Gah! It was impossible not to feel things, especially when it came to her. It was terrifying to know she could read them, and that what he was feeling could make things worse for her.
“This isna nothin’ Sassenach, but I dinna ken—”
Claire sat up abruptly, pushing herself away from him with two hands planted firmly on his chest until she had gained her distance. Irritation was rising in her as warm spots on her cheeks, and her eyes flashed a darker shade of gold.
“Don’t tell me about me like you know better than I do,” she said, brows drawing together in frustration.
“I’m no’, I just—”
Jamie reached for her, but she batted his hands away.
“I’m telling you, it’s nothing. If you were tired of trying to warm me up, you could have just said something.”
She was moving backward now, attempting to put more distance between them, but Jamie reached out to grasp her upper arm, holding her still. Her head whipped toward him, eyes hard and ready to lash out, but Jamie spoke before she could.
“Please, dinna go,” was all he could think to say.
It wasn’t like she was actually going to storm out of his office— at least he hoped not— but it still hurt for her to tear herself away like that. He didn’t want to fight.
Something— perhaps it was his pleading tone, the look on his face, or maybe she could actually feel his distress— made her freeze and give him her attention.
“I’m sorry if I made ye feel like ye werena my priority, mo ghraidh, because ye are. Always. I would abandon work entirely jes’ tae hold ye in my arms, for however long ye wanted. I’m jes’ worried, lass, I dinna mean to presume I ken more than you do about yer own body. I’m sorry. Please, lass, come here to me?”
Claire’s eyes filled with tears. She remained stock still, her eyes locked with Jamie’s. There was a long moment where he watched the moisture gather in her eyes and the gears turn in her head as she fought within herself, and then she broke the stillness. She did come to him then, scrambling up into his lap and throwing her arms around him. A wet face pressed into the crook of his neck, and Jamie quickly brought his arms up to hold her, pressing her face into him and feeling relief course through him.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “I don’t know why I lashed out at you, Jamie. I didn’t mean that.”
“Hush, hush, it’s okay, a leannan,” Jamie soothed, carding his fingers through her curls and rocking her back and forth. “Ye’ve had a long day. Ye’ve felt yer share of heartache, met so many new people and seen so many new things, and ye’re tired. Why dinna we head home now, aye?”
She drew back, blinking tears away from her eyelashes. “Maybe just in a moment?”
“Of course, Sassenach.” Jamie didn’t need to be an empath to know that she needed a second to gather herself together before she could face the task of exiting the building and encountering whatever people went along with that.
“Hey, I love you,” Jamie added softly, petting her hair, pulling it back away from her neck over and over. He stretched his thumb so he could smooth over the long muscle of her neck, feeling the soft skin and wishing he were at an angle that he could press a kiss there.
“I love you, too,” came her quiet response.
***
a/n: Important Update:
Hey friends! So I may be going off the grid a bit later in June, not 100% sure yet. There probably will end up being a brief hiatus for this story, and I wish I could tell you exactly what it will look like, but I don't know yet. I will keep you posted here. Thank you so much for your flexibility and investment in the story, and I'll do my best not to leave you at cliffhangers. While I still have time left, be prepared that updates may get a bit more frequent.
I don’t remember if I’ve announced it on here yet, but I also want to officially say that an Arc III is in the works! I’ve already started writing a bit on it because I’m so excited about it. So don’t worry, even if there is a brief hiatus, there is lots of story left. Thank you for sticking with me!!!
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#wooohooo finally managed to write it!!!#all that was fair#claire x jamie#outlander fanfiction#update#fae claire
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"Kissing on sofa, foreheads pressed together, breathy, soft tender" with damirae please <3<3<3
‘you are good’
This one was a bit more challenging, and definitely mushy. Thank you Vi for being my beta, and giving me some super helpful suggestions to wrap up this one-shot.
Hope you enjoy :) -AD
Pairing: DamiRae
Words: 1,360
Rated: G with implied mature scenes
At first glance, one would think he’s gazing mindlessly at the television ahead, pondering just how stupid Shaggy can be to open that closet door. And he is, for a moment.
Of course the perpetrator is behind it, ax poised to strike. His brow twitches, distaste tugging at the corners of his mouth.
He must have hit a new low, resorting to watching Cartoon Network— though that was her show of choice and there’s nothing he will deny her; But how she’s able to watch this show and enjoy it is beyond him.
She’s not even watching it. It’s more background noise than anything else, but if she’s happy, then what else can he ask for? And he is too… for the most part.
By the time the whimsical chasing scene ensues his eyes are already glossing over again, hands fisting ever so lightly in his lap as persistent, deprecating thoughts swarm his mind.
Of all the things to obsess over, he wouldn’t have had the slightest notion it’d be over a flippant comment, but now he can’t stop.
“Are you kidding me? Almost everyone we fight has an identity crisis! How too far gone do you gotta be to not know killing people is wrong? Psychos.”
Ever since their debriefing this morning after Gar’s mindless jab, one ever-pressing question has been consuming him the entirety of the afternoon.
And even though Gar couldn’t have known how his words would have affected him, Damian had been surprised to feel the short pang in his chest that spoke of a deeper level of pain and insecurity. One that he realized just then that he hadn’t quite healed from.
Is he still in the midst of an identity crisis, after all this time? After all of his growth?
Logically, it makes sense that he would continue to… question himself. After all, he'd been groomed for successorship of the League from birth until he was ten years old, then tossed into a world of vigilantes with strict moral codes that went against everything he had previously learned.
He had thought he’d come to terms with it all. Especially after living at the monastery.
It’s true that he still finds himself withholding that final decapitating strike, and maybe more than once he’s considered how much more effective it would be if he didn’t. Justice, not vengeance. He doesn’t know how many times he’s held onto that mantra like a lifeline, especially after he nearly killed Dollmaker.
Is he really second guessing his rectitude? Surely I’ve established a clear sense of morality by now. I’m not too far gone, no matter what Gar says.
Something pokes at his thigh, pulling him from his thoughts, and he looks down to see a dainty barefoot pressed into his leg, toes wiggling enticingly. Despite his inner calamity, he can’t help the light smirk that plays at his lips. Cute isn’t a word anyone would hear spilling from his mouth, but if he ever had to describe her feet, that’s the word he’d choose.
His gaze flicks up a pale, slender leg, hovering there a moment, before moving on to the novel that’s now slack in her hands. Jane Eyre— of course. She’s always loved the classics. Continuing his quest up, he reaches pools of lavender— and to his chagrin he finds that they’re filled with mirth.
“You’re thinking up a literal storm cloud, habibi. You’re supposed to be relaxing.”
He gives her an affronted glare, though they both know he doesn’t really mean the anger behind it. Grasping the arch of her foot, he arches a brow while he begins to massage it absentmindedly, taking mental note of the soft moan that escapes her lips. “I’d never call watching that ridiculous show relaxing,” he cocks his head, gesturing towards the t.v., “It’s more infuriating than anything— and poor detective work if you ask me.”
Her lips quirk upwards. “It’s a cartoon, Damian. It’s not meant to be realistic, it’s meant to be funny. Relaxing.”
“Tt.”
She nudges him again. “So what’s wrong?”
He presses his lips together, taking care to keep his face emotionless. “Nothing.”
When she gives him an inscrutable look he scowls. Of course I had to fall in love with an empath.
He sighs when she doesn’t relent. Resisting the urge to fidget his leg, he tenses and finds a spot at the floor between his feet. Just ask her.
“Habibti, am I still… good?” he asks, too tentatively for his taste.
Raven’s brows draw together and she gives him a reflective, silent stare. He knows that she’s trying to get a read on his emotions, to string together the reason why he would ask such an aimless question.
It doesn’t take her long to figure it out, and her face softens only a few moments later. “Oh. This is about what Gar said earlier, isn’t it?”
He frowns and nods once, then turns back to the t.v. The next episode has begun to play, and the music of the theme song does nothing to deter him from the rolling wave of disparate emotions swelling up in his throat.
Arguably, he had a more traumatic upbringing than many of the villains they fought on a daily basis. What if he is still that person?? He can hear the voice. What if his carefully constructed restraint slips during a battle?
What if one day I don’t stop that final blow? What if I’ve just been pretending this whole time?
“Habibi.” Raven calls out to him and he turns his head once more as she moves, folding her book and placing it aside. “Come here,” she murmurs.
Her hand reaches out to him and he leans forward just as she shifts one foot underneath her to sit up comfortably on the couch. With a wave of her hand the volume on the t.v. turns to a mere whisper, and the other hand that’s reaching out to him finds the back of his neck, tugging him even closer to her. Then she rests her forehead directly against his, and his eyes flutter shut as his nose brushes against hers.
All of a sudden he’s enveloped in solace.
“You are good.” She whispers, lips ghosting over his own. “I would know. I can feel you, remember?”
He breathes in deep, catching the peppermint shampoo of her hair. Her thumb strokes the back of his neck soothingly and he relishes in the feeling, allowing her calming empathy to sweep through him.
It’s almost funny how quickly she grounds me, in just a few short words. She had said so much more though, in the way that she held him.
“I love you,” he whispers, smiling into the kiss that she presses against his lips. She responds in kind, humming into his mouth, “I love you too.”
This concern won’t ever go away completely, but at least I have her by my side to help me through it. Watch over me, habibti.
“I know of something else that we can do to help put your mind at ease.” Raven’s voice drops to a low, husky sound that sends his heart racing.
“Oh?” he asks, mildly amused when she pulls away from him to push at his chest, and the back of his head hits the arm of the couch with a light thud when he falls. She follows. The sight of her, hovering over him with parted lips and hooded eyes is nothing short of divine beauty. And she’s all mine. “As long as it has nothing to do with that halfwitted cartoon,” he says as an added quip.
“I’m thinking of a more… hands on approach.” The smirk she throws him makes him chuckle. That is, until she straddles his waist and rocks into him languidly. Then it dissolves into a groan of pleasure.
“Whatever you think is best habibti.”
She draws closer to him with a smile, and he reaches up to thread a hand through soft, silky locks.
His last coherent thought before she takes precedence over all his senses is that if this is his reward for being good, then he’ll do whatever it takes to never be bad again.
#damirae#damian wayne#damian x raven#raven#one shot prompts#I guess I hc that one of Raven’s fav shows is scooby doo? lol
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can i request something to do with the thing about vincent having tics while giving oral or just vincent giving oral general i love the way you write things
I Think We're Alone Now
(Vincent Rhodes x Fem!Reader)
Warnings: language, talk of mental health, fem!receiving oral
A/N: With the pandemic keeping you and Vincent apart, he was glad that being alone didn't mean being lonely.
Vincent Rhodes didn't tic as bad or as much in his thirties. He wasn't cured. He didn't take medicine that made them magically go away. He took meds for his anxiety, and the “cure” was still going to therapy with Dr Rose. He didn't go daily or weekly or even monthly anymore. He managed every other month. Sometimes, perhaps, every three to four months. Yet it took twenty-five to finally accept a cliche: Tourette's wasn't Vincent, Vincent simply HAD Tourette's.
Don't worry though, cunt is still his favorite word.
Vincent also did all the things he told Marie he wanted to do. He finished school and went to college online. He found himself rather good at computers and a job that required the bare minimum of human interaction. His Tourette's was under control, but his social anxiety never seemed to be. We digress!
He had a job, and a place to call home that wasn't a treatment facility or a hoarder’s house bogged down by sadness and alcoholism. Vincent didn't find it shameful that his father bought him a condo. He and his roommate had an agreement to pay utilities and work on the re-election campaign.
Vincent finally had a dog. A dog he had to fight for because his roommate had.. Rituals. Rituals that also weren't as bad as they used to be thanks to the same therapy and right medication. Just like you can't get rid of Tourette's, Vincent couldn't get rid of Alex either. That was his first, and really only, friend. As tumultuous as they started out, if you survive a road trip with two neurodivergents, you're pretty much bonded for life. Alex was sometimes more work than their dog.
Vincent and Alex did things in their late twenties and early thirties they never thought they'd do. They went out. They dated around. They had awkward sex and one night stands that the two of them could finally laugh about. Vincent could hide, or save his tics from popping up during his dates. He could even manage to hold them off when he had sex. He was relaxed and focused on the woman beneath or above him.
But then he would spasm, or twist and pop his mouth. He would unintentionally squeal or swear, call her names or flip her off. Instead of understanding Vincent, or talking to him, whoever the girl of the moment was would leave and never come back. Fuck her, Vincent would think. I can't help that I have Tourette’s; she can help being an asshole.
-----
There could not have been a worse time in anyone’s life for you to meet quite possibly the single hottest guy in your neighborhood. At least, you thought he was in your neighborhood. You kept running into each other at various stores to the point you found yourself quoting an old movie from college.
“Are you stalking me?” You boldly questioned him one afternoon as he pondered Mcintosh versus Fiji apples. “Because that would be super.”
The man jumped. Then to your shock, he spasmed almost violently. His neck twisted to the left as his hand held on to his chin and yelled out, “Brown haired cunt! Grass licking big tits.”
You laughed. It wasn't malicious or in jest. You were nervous and stunned. Still you replied, “Normally a guy has to date me for a while before he calls me a cunt. Now as for grass licking? That was only once, but I was high and we were playing truth or dare.”
He stared at you, mouth agape. A violent spasm rocked his body again like an aftershock. It caused him to excessively blow a dark curl back from his forehead several times before his body relaxed and he appeared to sink in on himself. Embarrassed. A pink hue spread along his cheeks and angled jaw as he gazed at the apples again with large green eyes.
“You ok? I wouldn't say I've got big tits. They're more like medium sized. Unless you were talking about the melons.” You held up two cantaloupe in front of your chest. “I’m y/n”
Again with the mouth open staring. Then he came to, “Vincent. I've never had someone react to Arthur that way.”
“I'm from New York. That was a Saturday night in the village. Who’s Arthur?” You looked around. “Are you being held hostage? Scream cunt for yes. Vagina for no.”
Vincent laughed. It was almost a giggle that you weren't sure was a laugh or his thing. “Arthur is my Tourette's. He's the clown who shits in between my thoughts. My tics. You scared the piss out of him.”
“You named your Tourette's? You can't do that, they never go away once you name them.”
Vincent rolled his eyes, “ DAMMIT! I'll take away his bowl of food and dog bed too. Maybe I'll finally be cured!”
You didn't want him to think you felt something was wrong with him. “Mostly with all of this, I meant I keep seeing you around. Thought I'd say hi.”
“How about we exchange phone numbers, and you can say hello more often?” Vincent cocked an eyebrow.
“Bold of you to assume calling me a cunt is flirting! But you got it out of the way now instead of down the line. Give me your phone.”
He obliged and you put your number in. As you handed it back you joked, “Should've told me you had a much sexier friend.” You indicated Alex on the phone’s wallpaper.
“He's gay.”
“Damn! Lucky for men. Anyways, I work most days. Don't know how long with everything happening out there. Call me sometime?”
Vincent twitched and wolf whistled. He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, but promised he would nonetheless. But then pandemic happened, so all you had for the next six months was your phone
-----
You met Alex and learned his rituals and empathized with his panic to follow or abide by heath guidance. His OCD aggravated by everything going on. Vincent couldn't even go for a run without his friend completely freaking out, so he just didn't. Their balcony was it for fresh air.
You took tours of each other's apartments. Had dinners and breakfasts together. Shared what books you were reading and watched movies together. Vincent teased you about your fat, lazy cat and you did likewise over his ten pound shih tzu. Although, you admitted, it was because she got to share a bed with him.
Somehow in month 5 you were roped into a three way phone call with his dad. Senator Rhodes and Vincent seemed to have an easy relationship, but you were filled in later that it was anything but for a very long time. So you turned the tables one night, and introduced him to your entire family.
Forgetting about his Tourette's, because you had really grown used to it all. To the tics, the whistles and excessive use of the word cunt (Pandemic drinking game, Vincent’s idea) that his biggest episode since you met stunned not only you but your clan. Vincent had buried his face, you were terrified of your mistake. But you got it from somewhere.
“Sure you ain't from Brooklyn, kid?!” Thank Christ for meathead brothers.
“This is dating right?” Vincent asked after their dinner. “Pandemic, COVID, for now dating. Even though,” he paused to twist his neck, “One of my coworkers has uh, dick appointments all the time?” He snapped a finger several times and shouted something about a whore and syphilis.
“Hey! Tell Arthur to fuck off. Sexual liberation. She's not a whore, she's in her twenties!” Vincent laughed. “Are you nervous about something? Usually the bedtime part of our phone calls are the least tic-ish.”
“Wanna have sex?” He was straightforward.
“Right now? Facetime sex?” You scrunch your nose but more to be cute than creeped out.
“Here. Alex is asleep. Come over? We've been isolated for months.”
“God, I love you.”
“What?” Vincent laughed. “Are you sure about that?”
“I'll be there in twenty minutes.”
-----
Vincent opened the door and implored you to take your shoes off at the door. You expected nothing less as you complied and followed him in the stillness of the apartment to his bedroom.
The moment the door was shut, Vincent was on you before you could even adjust to the dark. Only street lamps from the neighborhood below showed through as his mouth consumed yours.
Your tongues at war with each other as the two of you scrambled to undress. Your lips broke apart long enough to throw shirts over heads and step out of flannel pants or yoga pants. Then they crashed together again as Vincent let his hands splay out the length of your back and shoulders.
Your one hand ensnared by his messy hair. The other under the waistband of his boxers and over his ass. You drew his body to yours to melt into. His erection strained and throbbed against your hip as you hungrily pushed your tongue as far inside him as you could.
The both of you eager like teenagers shot with adrenaline. Anxious and hoping Alex caught you as Vincent twitched and his shoulders shrugged up to his ears. His fingers fumbled with your bra made worse by his tics. Tics that frustrated only him; you reached and undid it for him. Your breasts were free for him to look at.
Vincent attempted to choke back his words but failed. “Tit fucker,” a sour look on his face as his eye involuntarily clamped shut, “huge nipples.” He swallowed his lips, mortified.
“Hey!! They make up for yours being the tiniest nipples I have EVER seen on a dude.” You took Vincent’s hand. “We can slow down if you want. I don't know what's up, do you tic like this every time you have sex?”
The two of you laid side by side on his bed, hands traced over inches of bare skin. Vincent was silent for a while as he let his fingers trail over you, his lips not far behind.
“I don't. I'm usually too focused. The last time I loved someone, it fell apart immediately. It's making me anxious.”
You held his head to your body with a tenderness. “I loved you first, didn't I?”
His mouth made its way amongst your breasts as he gently laid you on your back. His lips warm on your stomach and hips that he exposed by tugging your panties down over your knees and off. Vincent laid down between them and almost nuzzled his nose in your soft pubic hair before his tongue dove inside of you.
Your hips rocketed up into his mouth as you grabbed the back of Vincent's head. He licked and sucked on your sex. Small tics caused him to push his tongue and lips in further than before. They closed in on your clit. His tongue attacked it with a lapping motion that you could only bend to, helpless.
Vincent was insatiable, his mouth in a frenzy. Your fingers caught up in the sheets as the sensation of his mouth on your clit spread along your body. Now your words were a shock as they came screaming out into the quiet of the bedroom.
“Tongue fuck me! Faster!”
Instead Vincent looked up at you with a grin, “I see Arthur came to visit.”
Tag: @robertsheehanownsmyass @slutforrobbiebro @super-unpredictable98 @magic-multicolored-miracle @sean-falco @elliethesuperfruitlover @bisexualnathanyoung @bwritesstuff @firstpersonnarrator @rob-private
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I’m back home.
Damian couldn’t breath. He couldn’t master enough strength to pull air into his lungs. All he could do was stare in awe at the beautiful woman in front of him.
Closing the door softly, he slowly got closer to her until her back was pressed against the faded wood. He stopped with his lips milimetres away from hers, looking for any sign of rejection. He found none.
He didn’t waste any more time. His lips crash against hers, furiously like fierce waves hitting the coast during a storm. Fervently, deeply, consuming, the memory of a kiss shared after the Darkseid battle replayed, death was certain and all seemed lost, coming to his mind. He almost lost her. This.
A bone-deep weariness filled Damian’s body, he’d done such horrid things his whole life and it weighed on him like the press of darkness. But he found light with her. The darkness was gone.
“Raven.” Damian whispered with longing, pressing his forehead against hers. He inhaled her fragrance, lavender, lilies and pinewood, getting drunk on it. “My Raven.”
“Does that mean you missed me?” She muttered a little breathless from his kiss, lips curling into a sincere smirk.
He leaned in close to her and whispered softly, breath fanning hot on her ear, making her feel shivery inside. “Always.” The way he said it sounded truer than true. It made her whole body tremble.
You’re an idiot.” She laughed lightly, and it was a sweet melody to his ears. He’d know that voice in hell, in death itself he would know her misty and soft voice.
“Am I now?” Damian said amused in a half-smirk. Yes. For leaving without saying a word just when they found each other a couple of weeks ago.
“Dick clearly told you to wait for word of Batman before making a move.” Folding her arms, eyes fixed on the floor, knitted brows.
“I went to inspect the area before the mission. I have already briefed him my discoveries.” He breathed out. “Enough about Titans business.”
She raised her eyes to meet his after a brief moment, his emerald eyes almost shining with all the honesty and love he had for his girlfriend.
It was overwhelming the way he gazed at her with such devotion and sentiment. He kissed her again, then carefully turning her around, began to pull down her nightgown , placing a tender kiss down the length of her spine as the clothing slipped down.
Her skin remembered his. Her skin didn’t want to forget. Every part of her ached for him. Like muscle memory. She traced his face slow with her fingertips,those eastern features, bronze skin, looking for phantom imprints, traces of the boy she met a long time ago, he had become a nice-looking and strong man.
Her nightgown reached the floor, and turned to look at his face, the amount of love she saw in the male’s eyes in front of her, love she never thought she’d be worthy of, was such that she almost couldn’t bear to look at him. It took her better away, left her lugs empty, chest tightened with heavy emotion. She was an empath and such intensity she had no idea how to contain it.
“Raven?” Damian asked concerned, while she drowned in endless numbing bliss. She loved him, but he loved her even more than she ever thought. The way he looked at her, the way he’d stopped to cup her face, his lips grazing her cheeks, her forehead, the side of her neck, reverent, like she was someone precious, someone to be worshipped. She never dreamed she would have this. They still had nightmares about Apokolips, they tried to leave behind, those cruel memories.
“Just..” she said with voice breaking, coming out strangely fragile. “Just, hold me.”
She felt the pounding heartbeat beneath her palm, scarred and tanned flesh she knew too well, warm and muscled arms wrapped around her waist, holding her. “Like this?” He mumbled against the she’ll of her ear. Yes. Exactly like this. She heard him a faint ‘I love you’ followed by soft kiss on the top of her head. He was back home finally.
Short damirae because I love them. 💜❤️
#damirae#demon birds#damian wayne#raven roth#teen titans#dick grayson#dc fandom#dc universe#robrae#raven x damian#fluff and feels
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Where do broken hearts go? -- Bucky Barnes x Reader one shot
But Kay. Don’t you have an essay due Wednesday that you haven’t started? Shhh. Enjoy this Bucky Barnes angst to fluff one shot. Based purely on this picture. You’re welcome.
Summary: You and Bucky used to date, but once the honeymoon phase died down, things took a turn for the worse. Now, months later, your roommate finally manages to get you out to a bar. Only for you to run into some dumbass wearing a tiara.
“This is exactly what you need, Y/N,” your best friend, Jada, tugs on your arm. She’s been trying to get you out of bed for the past hour and she has had no luck whatsoever.
“What I need is to finish this show.” You twist your arm out of her grip, shoveling another fistful of popcorn into your mouth. You’re finally at the good part in this episode, and you’ll be damned if you let Jada ruin it for you.
“Okay, I can’t watch you like this.” Jada grabs the remote and turns the TV off, which is then followed by loud protesting from you.
“What the fuck! I was watching that!”
“You can finish it later,” Jada mutters, tossing the remote to the side. “Listen, it’s been months. Literal months. Sooner or later, you’re going to have to get back out there.”
“Make it later,” you reply curtly. “Hand me the remote.”
“No.”
“Jada, I can’t. You know I can’t.”
“Every time you say you can’t, I just hear excuses,” your best friend raises an eyebrow at you. “I’m not asking you to go out and fall in love again. I’m just asking you, as your best friend and roommate of five years, to please come get drinks with me. I miss going out to the bars and pretending to be waiting for a date. And getting sympathy drinks when our nonexistent dates don’t show. Come on, please?”
You chew on your lower lip. You have to admit, you do miss doing that. It’s been longer than months since you and Jada have enacted that master plan. It was a normal thing before you had a boyfriend and after the two of you broke up, you haven’t been back to a bar to even try.
“Fine,” you mumble. “But only because you know I can’t turn down pity drinks.”
“Yes! Thank you! Okay, you have to wear this new outfit I got you--”
“Were you planning this?”
“...no.”
“Whatever,” you smile, missing this rush of adrenaline. “Let’s do this before I change my mind.”
+++
The bar is crowded. But what bar isn’t?
You can’t help but get the sense, though, that this is more crowded than the usual Saturday night. Or maybe it really has been a long time since you were out of the apartment.
When you and your boyfriend -- none other than Bucky Barnes, the famous Winter Soldier and best friend to Steve Rogers a.k.a. Captain America, both heartthrobs to the universe -- broke things off a few months ago, your desire to go anywhere that wasn’t work-related had left your body. And since work for you consists of sitting on the couch with your laptop, that meant your desire to leave the apartment was nowhere to be seen.
The only times -- and they were few and far between -- that Jada would manage to get you out would be for food. Groceries or dinner, but that was it. No bars. No “having fun” as Jada would put it, even though you have plenty of fun. Netflix is fun. Comedy specials are fun.
As you and Jada score the last two stools at the bar, you send her a wary glance. You definitely didn’t miss this atmosphere.
It was one thing to play the game to your advantage, but when you haven’t played in so long, it’s terrifying. You’re out of practice entirely.
And the crowd certainly isn’t helping. You don’t remember it ever being this packed. How is this not a violation of the fire code or something?
“Relax,” Jada yells over the commotion. “You look like you’re going to hurl.”
“I might,” you joke, but you’re not going to. You know when you’re about to throw up, and that’s not the feeling you have right now.
When you and Bucky ended, it wasn’t because he cheated. And it wasn’t because you cheated, either. Everything was smooth sailing. It was all so...easy with Bucky. Which doesn’t make sense, you know, because Bucky is a literal block of ice sometimes. Even more so than Steve at times.
But Bucky was tender with you. You had wormed your way right into his heart not knowing he was doing the exact same to you. It was effortless. No pushing, no pulling. Just smooth. Exactly how love should be.
Then, the honeymoon phase ended.
Bucky started going on missions again. You started spending more time back at the apartment because of this -- which Jada was at least thankful for; she missed having you around. But with you and Bucky separated, it meant you weren’t talking as much.
Granted, he wasn’t available during missions. And you understood that. You also understood that when he came back, he needed his space. No offense to you, and it has nothing to do with you -- or anyone else for that matter. He just needs space. That’s just Bucky.
But he took your willingness to give him space as something else entirely.
You didn’t break up because you cheated. The accusation itself was thrown around more than once.
He accused you of it on nights when all you had been doing was watching some shitty Netflix drama on the couch with Jada. And on nights when you had been working nonstop.
After the second time, you told him that if he didn’t trust you at all, then maybe it meant things weren’t working anymore.
Bucky realized his mistake. You saw it in his eyes when he realized it. But you were too fed up with his games to even bother forgiving him then.
You slammed the door on your way out. And sent every call of his to voicemail. When you were worried you might have to block him, he stopped calling.
The two of you haven’t spoken since.
Have you thought about him? Every second of every day.
“Don’t hate me for telling you this,” Jada leans over so she isn’t yelling as much. “But I think I might’ve just seen Tony Stark.”
Your eyes go wide. “What?”
Jada discretely nods over to where the crowd has been all night. “But it could just be someone who looks like him. A creepy cosplayer. You never know.”
“It better be.” You don’t know that you can handle seeing Bucky. Not when you haven’t spoken since the breakup.
The bartender brings you a refill with a sad smile. Sympathy drink number one.
Some idle chatter flows between you, Jada, and the random guy sitting beside your best friend. He’s the classic just-got-his-heart-broken kind of guy, so you can empathize with that. He’s cute, too, and you silently cheer when he rests his hand on your roommate’s arm.
Jada’s eyes catch on something over your shoulder and you freeze, staring at her. “What?”
“Cutie staring at you.”
“Huh?”
“A cutie. Is staring. At you.”
You chuckle, deciding to play your cards. You look over your shoulder with a smile. What you don’t expect is for your gaze to fall right to Bucky Barnes.
“Fuck,” you hiss, turning back around.
Jada gives you a strange look. “What now?”
“That’s Bucky.”
Jada looks again, disbelieving. “No, that’s-- holy shit, he cut his hair.”
Yeah, he cut his hair. It looks fucking good on him, too, the shorter length. You kept trying to get him to entertain the idea of cutting it when you were together, but he wouldn’t budge. You didn’t totally mind because you did like his long hair. But the pictures you saw of him from the ‘40s? No wonder all the girls swooned over him. You fell in love with his long hair, but one look at him from the ‘40s had you falling all over again.
Just like right now. You can feel it. You know he’s still looking at you. And damnit, you want to look, too. But it’s a bad idea.
Apparently, the idea isn’t bad enough to stop you. Because you look again.
You snicker quietly to yourself as you take him in. His hair is shorter, yes, but he’s got a tiara sitting on the top of his head. The sight of that alone has you grinning. What dumbass bet did he lose?
You get a little too carried away with making eyes at Bucky across the room because then you’re spotted by none other than Tony Stark, and all hell breaks loose.
“Y/N!” You’d hear Tony’s voice from a mile away if he tried hard enough. “Where the hell have you been?”
“Hi Tony,” you reply, watching as the poor guy next to you is promptly shoved off the stool by a somewhat tipsy Tony Stark. “How much have you had?”
“Not nearly enough to be okay with seeing you and Barnes have eye sex.”
“Tony!” You smack his arm. “Knock it off. I was just laughing at the crown on princess’s head.”
Tony grins wide. “There’s that fire. We’ve missed you.”
“Sure,” you shake your head, sipping your drink. Next to you, Jada is giving you a look of sheer disbelief. “Tony you’re scaring my best friend.”
“Best friend!” Tony exclaims, looking over at her. “Both of you, come join our party! More the merrier!”
“You’re drunk off your ass.”
“Not yet,” Tony winks. “Come on, Barnes wants to see you anyway.”
“No,” you stay put. “I don’t want to.”
“Oh, give it up,” Tony yells. “He’s been moping around my goddamn tower for months, please go have sex with him or something to make it stop--”
You don’t have time for another protest before Bucky comes up next to you, pushing Tony away. Bucky Barnes. Taking every chance he can get to save the day.
Your ex slides easily into the stool. You look to your right for help from Jada only to find she’s fully facing and flirting with the guy beside her. You’re stuck.
Bucky waves down the bartender and asks for two beers.
“You’re gonna drink two? Seriously?” It’s a weak jab, but you don’t know what else to do. You’ve had speeches made up in your head for months, what you’d say when you saw him again, but they were all in scenarios where you weren’t in a loud ass bar.
“Actually,” Bucky takes both bottles in his hand, sliding one toward you. “I got one of them for you.”
If it wasn’t your favorite kind, you would’ve poured it on his stupid tiara. “Thanks.”
“Come on,” Bucky nods, standing from the stool.
“What?”
“Let’s get away from the bar,” he says. “Too many people.”
“Fine,” you huff, ignoring his hand that is stretched out to help you down. You try to walk with more than an inch between you two, but it’s so crowded that when Bucky grabs lightly onto your arm, you let him.
Suddenly, the crowd opens up, and you realize it’s because Tony Stark -- of course -- has rented and blocked off one section of the place, forcing everyone else to crowd around the bar.
You ignore the weird glances coming from the other Avengers that haven’t seen your face in months. One, in particular, is Steve.
Bucky finds an open booth and slides in, waiting for you to do the same. You do, but you keep your distance. He accepts defeat, leaning onto his arms on the table, beer bottle in one hand.
“Nice tiara,” you comment, not looking at him. “It suits you.”
“Thanks,” he chuckles, shaking his head until the plastic crown falls into his hands. He sets it down on the table, running his fingers through his hair, messing it up. You want to fix it so badly, but you leave it alone. “How’ve you been?”
“Good.” A lie. “How’ve you been?”
“Awful.”
You turn your head to look at him, not expecting that answer. “Okay…”
“Y/N, I’m…” Bucky pauses, grabbing a fistful of his hair and letting go. “I’m a fucking idiot.”
“Can’t argue with you there,” you mutter, picking at the label on the side of the bottle. “What made you come to this revelation?”
Bucky’s lips stretch into a smile. “I miss that.”
“What?”
“Your wit,” he replies. “Your ability to call me on my bullshit.”
“I shouldn’t have to be there to call out your bullshit.”
He frowns. “I know.”
“What are you doing?” You blurt. “Whatever you’re trying to do.”
“I’m trying to say I’m sorry.”
“Then just say it,” you almost laugh. He’s being ridiculous. “Stop trying to-- To drag me back in. Just say you’re sorry so I can go.”
“I don’t want you to go, that’s the thing,” Bucky pleads. “I’m sorry, doll, I’ve been so stupid. I am stupid and I don’t blame you one bit if you get up and leave right now, but I’m asking you to please, don’t go.”
“Why?” You murmur, surprised he can even hear you.
“Because I’m miserable without you. And every day I think of how I would change things if I could--”
“You can’t.”
“But I want to try. If you’ll let me.”
You stare hard at the bottle in your hands. If you had even an ounce of Bucky’s strength, the glass would be a shattered mess all over the table.
“Please, baby,” Bucky scoots closer, knowing he’s testing his luck. But what else does he have left to do? “Let me love you right this time.”
Slowly, because you can’t believe he’s telling you all that you ever wanted to hear, you look up at him, tears in your eyes. One slides down your cheek and he wipes it away, hand cradling your jaw.
You shake your head. “I can’t do this again, Buck.”
He frowns deeply, his hand slipping away. His eyes lower themselves to his lap, accepting his defeat once more.
“So you better not break my fucking heart this time.”
His gaze snaps to meet yours, thinking he’s imagined those words, but you’re smiling. Smiling, even though you’re also glaring. But he sees the hurt behind your eyes.
“I won’t,” he swears to you, hand returning to caress your cheek. “And if I do, you can kill me.”
“I might,” you giggle, scooting an inch closer.
“Good,” he says seriously. “Because I’d deserve it.”
He leans down as you tilt your head forward, pressing your lips against his in an aching kiss, one you’ve both been longing to share for far too long.
Bucky scoots closer, body right next to yours, metal arm fitting around your waist perfectly, right where it should be, right where you’ve been missing it.
You grab the tiara off the table and put it back in the top of his hair, smoothing down the strands. He gives you a strange look.
“What? It suits you.”
He laughs, pulling you into him. “Okay, doll.”
“Hey Buck?”
“Yes?”
“I still love you.”
His forehead rests against yours as he sighs in relief. “Oh, thank God. I love you, too, doll. Always.”
#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky imagine#bucky one shot#bucky x you#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes one shot#angst#with fluff#angst with a happy ending#marvel#marvel fanfiction#tony stark#steve rogers#bucky broke your heart#and wants to fix it#mcu#what else do i need to tag#drunk!tony#uhhhh#i have school work i should def be doing#but my brain spit this out instead#oh yeah this is my first time writing bucky#go easy on me haha
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T-Shirt - Keanu Reeves x Reader Oneshot
Just some domestic fluff :)
Word Count : 2.3K
Warnings : Tons of fluff, *Light* NSFW, a post sex scene.
Summary : Keanu wears his Arch shirts practically everywhere, leaving his wife, Y/N, slightly annoyed, until they’re forced to spend a month apart.
A/N : Gotta love his ratty old Arch shirts. They really do make him look dreamy, so I had to write this. This fic is composed of a bunch of drabbles in a sense. Each line break represents a new day. I’d love to hear what you all think ❤️ Enjoy!
On a spring Saturday evening, Y/N stands anterior to her washroom mirror, finishing the final touches of her makeup. With the stereo playing 80’s hits softly in the background, she hears her husband, Keanu shuffle around their shared bedroom, getting ready for the evening as well.
The setting sun still lusters through the bedroom windows; the natural luminosity hits all the highlights of her face seamlessly, she strokes on a peachy blush to compliment her blooming eyes, finishing with a spritz of her husband’s favourite perfume. As she stows away her goodies and beauty knick knacks, a strong pair of hefty, toned arms circle around her waist.
“Hmmm you smell nice.” Keanu murmurs into the soft dip of her neck, gently swaying her in place, to the music softly purring in the four walls. With a giggle, she reaches up to scratch his bearded cheek, her other hand placing over his that holds her close, through a gentle squeeze.
“It’s your favourite.” She smiles, watching him trail delicate kisses along her neck through the dainty glass mirror, slowly progressing up towards her ear, wetter by the second. “Woah there, easy tiger.” She chuckles, giving his hand a tighter squeeze. “Not now, we’re going to be late, babe.” Attempting to squiggle out of his embrace, she hears the rumble of his chest.
“I love you.” He states, placing a final kiss to the top of her head, letting her go.
“I love you too.” She returns, watching him stroll to his side of the washroom counter, brushing a comb briefly through his hair, dabbing the perfect amount of cologne to his skin. He turns to leave the washroom, with Y/N following him behind in his steps.
“You ready, love?” He inquires, grabbing hold of his navy blue blazer from the coat hanger, throwing it on. As he fixes the seams, positioning it flat against his frame, he notes Y/N’s brows knit together, raising slight as she watches him.
“…What?” Keanu asks, unsure of what Y/N had grown rather…displeased about.
Biting her lip, Y/N speaks. “Please tell me you’re not wearing your Arch shirt to my parent’s dinner party.” She presses.
“I put a blazer over it?” His voice goes higher as he debates.
Y/N rolls her eyes, mumbling to herself, with her fingers rubbing just above her left brow. “You can’t be serious, Keanu.” She sighs, pacing towards the walk in closet they shared. “A blazer doesn’t make up for the fact that it’s a ratty old t-shirt.” She squeezes the bridge of her nose.
“Hey, I thought you like my Arch shirts,” He frowns, watching the wardrobe door as her voice chimes out. “I do, but not at an event at my parent’s house where everyone’s going to be. Please throw on a dress shirt or something?” She peeks her head out of the wardrobe, frowning. “For me?”
Keanu lets out a deep exhale, shimmying off his blazer, discarding his beloved Arch shirt over his head and onto the bed. Slumping his shoulders, he moves. “Fine, but only for you.” He mutters, following her voice to the wardrobe doors.
-
On a midnight evening, with the only light radiating the pitch black bedroom walls, coming in the form of the dewy bedside lamp, Keanu lets out a final grunt laced with a sultry moan into the evening air. His coffee hued strands of hair cling to his forehead, silken with a thin layer of sweat slick on his skin.
Y/N gasps as she feels him leave her body, her tiny breathes attempting to collect herself putting a smile on her husband’s face. Falling beside her on his back, his gaze hot and heavy on the ceiling above, he extends an arm out to pull her closer, pressing a tender kiss to her temple.
“You okay, sweetheart?” He asks, smirking as his cocoa orbs gloss over her eyes sealed, content in the moment as she rests in his side, coming down from her high. She nods in response, turning to bury her face further into his side as her arm drapes over his waist. With a gratified, fulfilled sigh, she plants an affectionate kiss to his shirtless chest, sitting herself up slightly on her elbows. “Can you pass me a shirt, Ke?” She whispers, wincing at the empty soreness he’d left between her legs, appreciating the calm after their pre - sleep rumble.
Keanu grins, opening his muscled arms to pull her over and down gently onto his chest, allowing her shirtless modesty to press against his unadorned chest. He chuckles quietly, embedding another kiss to her hair as he holds her close. “I like you sans shirt.”
She rolls her eyes, ultimately giving in with a smile. “You’ve seen me sans shirt enough tonight.” With her cheek pressed against his chest as they lay, taking in some much needed down time where they felt connected in each other’s vulnerable touch, Y/N pulls away, moving back to her side of the bed. Through a yawn, holding the blanket over her exposed breasts, she murmurs. “I’m getting sleepy.”
Keanu smiles at how beautiful she looks, skin gleaming from their session, a form of her only he was allowed to appreciate. Reaching down to the bedside floor, he grabs his t-shirt he wore before, handing it to her.
Looking down at it, Y/N gives him a questionable look.
“You have so many shirts, Ke. Why do you always wear the same three Arch shirts every day.” She bats her eyes again, sighing. Moving closer, she pushes his hair back out of his face, her stifling voice suggesting. “You look so sexy in nice shirts, that aren’t ripped or worn out.”
He rolls his eyes, turning away to set his alarm for the next morning. Y/N frowns, seeing him ignore her complaints. “Babe!” She whines, crossing her arms.
She shifts closer to him again.
“Ke, it’s literally got holes in it.” She states, holding the fabric between her hands to show him. “See?” She points.
“Nice n breezy. They’ll help you cool down.” He smirks, eyeing her still slightly flustered, flushed skin. Y/N groans, throwing a pillow at him as he laughs.
“Alright, alright, I’ll give you a different one.” He says. “Only after you join me in the shower…” he finishes, taking hold of her hand.
-
“Keanuuu!” Y/N calls from the kitchen counter, sipping on her earthy noted morning dark. She’d woke up before Keanu, as she currently waited for him to finish his morning shower before they would head out together to run some errands. As she browses her phone, the pattering rain stays audible through the glass doors and kitchen windows, simpering outside.
In a moment, Keanu’s thudding steps rushing down the stairs can he heard. He runs a hand through his messy locks, ends slightly wet from his shower. He wears his dark blue jeans and another damn Arch t-shirt.
Rushing to his lady’s side, Keanu wraps an arm around her, dipping just enough to come in contact with her mouth. With a quick kiss, he smiles into her lips. “Morning, sweetheart.” The smell of freshly pressed coffee consumes his senses.
“Morning. Another day, another Arch shirt.” Y/N titters, taking another sip of her coffee.
“This one is new.” Keanu states in a matter of fact tone, pointing to the dark gray, clean and crisp shirt that rests on his torso. “You really hate my Arch shirts, huh.” Keanu grins, pouring himself a cup at the counter. Y/N rolls her eyes playfully, raising off her seat to follow him. With her arms wrapping around his waist, she engulfs him in a hug from behind, leaning her head on him. Lacing his hand with hers that rests gently on his stomach, his spare brings the cup to his lips.
“I don’t hate them, baby.” She presses a kiss to his back, taking in his smoky smell of a morning cigarette and pine. “I love Arch, you know I do. I’m so proud of you.” He turns around in her embrace, slightly towering over her with a goofy smile on his face. “But I also love seeing my man in nice shirts, like your plain black one with the nice cut, or your henleys. Or your sexy dress shirts.” She smirks, pointing a finger lightly, tapping to his chest.
He smiles, leaning down to place a lingering kiss to her forehead. Y/N sighs, cupping his cheek. “Can you please at least wear your leather jacket over this” She pulls at his shirt. “It’s rainy and cold out today.” She finishes with a kiss to his jaw, breaking out of his embrace, walking to grab her own coat before they head out.
Keanu smiles, knowing there’s someone, someone his that babies him to wear jackets in the cold, and makes him morning coffee.
Someone that cares, just as much as he cares about her.
-
The airport was cold and melancholy that morning, or perhaps, that’s just how she’d felt saying goodbye. It broke their hearts to have to be separate for an aching, excruciating long month as Keanu shot out of town for his next film.
“Hey, I’ll be back before you know it, princess.” Keanu empathized, soothing strokes on her back as she hugged him close one final time. She sighs a breathy sigh, brushing her thumb over his cheek, staring into his mahogany eyes.
“I know. Its just hard when I’m in the house alone without you. I don’t like sleeping in our bed when you’re not there.” She quietly speaks into his neck, feeling him kiss her forehead.
“I know, I don’t like falling asleep in empty hotel rooms without you either.” He frowns. People stare as they walk by, catching glimpse of movie star Keanu Reeves saying goodbye to his wife. The paparazzi are scarce, yet still there, a few flashes let them know they’re watching.
But Keanu didn’t care. He was having a much needed moment with the love of his life, and he knew he needed to be there for her right now.
Not just for her, but for himself.
It hurt him each time to be away from her.
“But…you’ll be back before you know it.” Y/N smiles, tapping his chest, repeating his words from earlier as she despondently pulls back. “I know you’re excited about this one. You’re gonna kill it, I just know.” She grins, cupping his cheek.
“I love you so much, don’t forget it.” He whispers, moving in to kiss her one last time before he’d be gone. Together, they smile into the kiss, enjoying the relish in the alter of each other’s taste, before they’d be apart for a month too long. He chuckles, pressing their foreheads together in their last few moments.
“At least you get a break from my Arch shirts.”
-
As Y/N sits on her bed, she watches the rain fall on a disconsolate Sunday morning. It glides down the window glass, flowing down to the pavement below, the rattle audible on the drumming roof. She feels her heart heavy at the depressing, miserable weather, but more so at the thought of a lonely Sunday.
Normally, Sunday mornings were when Y/N and Keanu got to spend much needed time together, both being homebound all day. They’d wake up together with affectionate morning cuddle sessions, tender caresses of each other’s skin and gentle kisses shared left and right. They’d eat breakfast together after impromptu dance sessions in their kitchen, catching up on the shows they’d shared together on the living room couch, limbs tangled. The rest of the day would be spent doing chores, or by the window, with his head rest in her lap and two hefty novels propped in each their grips. Sometimes, they’d go out for an evening walk hand in hand, where the sunset glow would make Keanu fall in love with her each time it cast on her rosy cheeks, or lounge together by the poolside with their favourite tunes and jams blaring.
Sundays were for them, and they had been for as long as they’d been together.
Slowly, the longer he’d been away, his smell had started to fade from the house, she’d find herself sniffing his cologne for solace every now and then. If she closed her eyes for just long enough, it would feel as if he’d actually been there, gone before she may open them again to the lonesome daylight.
As she scans her eyes around the room, in search of nothing in particular, her eyes cease on the dresser beside their wardrobe.
Keanu’s favourite Arch shirt, the one that had begun to plaster holes and rips at the seams, had been resting on the countertop all week he’d been gone. She hadn’t thought much about it until today, as she sat alone, missing him dearly. With a sigh, she raises herself, dragging her feet towards it.
She smiles at the thought of his darn Arch shirts. Something so uniquely him. So reminiscent of him.
As it comes clasp in her grip, she brings it to her nose with her eyes tight shut, inhaling deep. The smell of his scent still entrenched in the joints of the fabric, his cigarettes smoked, his woody cologne, lingering leather paired precisely with the scent of something so uniquely him.
Just him, and nothing else.
Her favourite scent.
-
As her phone rings that evening, she sees his face pop onto her screen, her heart immediately fluttering at the thought of seeing him soon.
“Hey, darling.” Keanu smiles, holding the camera to his face. “I missed you so much today, it’s Sunday.” His smile fades to a frown. “That’s kinda our day, right?
Y/N nods lightly, a small smile evident on her lips as she watches him move. Each part of him seems perfect to her, perfectly crafted, perfectly put, embellished with all things good.
All things she loved.
“I missed you so much too. How was shoot today?”
Keanu’s brows furrow together, as a smirk channels his lips. “Is that…my Arch shirt?” He points to their mountain of pearly white pillows they share on their bed behind her.
Y/N bites her lip, raising her shoulders slightly. “Maybe…”
“I really don’t understand you sometimes. I can’t wear an Arch shirt at home without you groaning.”
She smiles, shifting back as she lays her head down on his pillow, the shirt in close proximity. Content and at ease for the first time that day, she sighs, before her lips move again to illume.
“It reminds me of you, so I guess it can stay.”
Keanu chuckles on the other end, his playful giggle warming the crooks of her heart with each sound.
“I love you so much, sweetheart. Don’t forget it.”
➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴
Taglist Posted Separately (Ask to be added or removed!) :
#keanu reeves x reader#keanu reeves imagine#keanu reeves imagines#keanu reeves x you#keanu reeves fanfic#keanu reeves oneshot#keanu reeves#keanu reeves fluff#keanu reeves fic#keanu reeves ff#keanu reeves fanfiction#keanu reeves story#keanu reeves smut#keanu reeves x y/n#keanu reeves x oc#my writing
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Chapter 21
The Letter Writer-Part 3
Word Count: ~9.9k
Please see my note regarding this fic here.
Starved Menu
When the two arrived at Hange’s office, Isa saw that Levi was already there, waiting, and it looked like he’d taken the time to clean up while he waited for them, and Isa couldn’t help but smile.
Nothing will keep this man from basic hygiene and cleanliness if he can help it.
Isa followed Hange as she led her to the bed in her bedroom so that she could begin checking her wounds.
Back during training, they had learned basic first aid, enough to handle wounds such as these without having to go see a doctor, which Isa was grateful for, seeing as she didn’t feel like dealing with a stranger tonight.
Hange grabbed the first aid kit all scouts kept on hand and sat on the bed next to Isa. “Do you want Levi to stay or leave?”
Levi’s eyes met Isa’s, silently asking her what she wanted him to do, telling her he’d do whatever she wanted.
Isa turned to Hange. “It’s fine Hange, I’d feel better if he stayed, please.” Knowing what was coming, Isa wanted the simple comfort that came with just his presence.
Hange nodded, and began looking over Isa, taking note of the discoloration on Isa’s temple, gently poking it, checking for lumps. “You’ve got a bruise forming here on your head.”
“That must be where she hit me to knock me out.”
Hange hummed. “Any dizziness right now? Blurry vision? Headache?”
“No, nothing like that. Just some dizziness when I first woke, but not since.”
“I’m going to need to check the bruises on your stomach, make sure there isn’t any internal damage. You said she managed to get a few hits in.”
“Yea, and I think the majority of them landed on my stomach. I guess she was hoping that if she hit the same spot over and over, I’d eventually just collapse from pain, giving her the chance to well…kill me."
Hange gently raised Isa’s shirt up towards the bindings covering her flesh, wincing as she saw the dark bruises already forming on the tender flesh of her stomach.
She gently poked at some of them, guilt running through her when she saw Isa’s hand clench into a fist.
“I know, I’m sorry Isa, I know it hurts.”
Isa blew out a steady breath, trying to ignore the discomfort of the tender bruise being poked. “It’s fine Hange, I’ve felt worse, don’t worry about me. Just do what you need to do.”
Hange looked up at Levi, leaning against the door, arms crossed, and looking as if he were about to explode at the sight of the large bruise running across Isa’s stomach. Knowing he needed a distraction as much as Isa did, she called to him.
“Levi, would you mind holding Isa’s hand? I think that might help distract her from the pain.”
His dark gaze came to her, and she could empathize with the anger in him. She wanted to hurt Uma too, but by the looks of her nose, arm, and knee, Isa had taken care of that. She felt a surge of pride at the thought of her small friend defending herself and succeeding, like Hange had always known Isa was capable of.
When Levi walked over to stand next to where Isa lay, taking her hand, she was further comforted by its warmth, comforted in just knowing that he was right there beside her.
Isa held tight to Levi’s hand as Hange prodded her stomach a bit more firmly. Some areas were more tender than others. She tried her best not to squeeze too hard, not wanting to hurt him.
“Okay, Isa, I think you’re good to go here. No swelling, just some deep bruises.”
When Hange rolled up Isa’s sleeve to check the cut on her arm, Isa was dreading what was to come. She held still as Hange gently cleaned the cut and inspected the damage.
“The cut doesn’t look too deep for the most part, and it looks like a clean one. There’s one spot that looks a little deeper than the rest, so I’d still rather close it up with some stitches to be safe. We don’t really have anything that’ll help relieve the pain.”
Isa took a breath, not looking forward to the stitches. “Just do it, Hange. I’ll be okay.”
Isa did her best to hold still as she felt Hange thread and pull the needle through the tender flesh in her arm, slowly closing the wound so that it could heal, though it was difficult. The sharp feel of the needle poking through her skin followed by the slide of the thread was not something she enjoyed.
Her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to keep her grip on Levi’s hand loose, not wanting to squeeze too tight.
“Hey, look at me.” His whispered voice wafted over her, drawing her attention to him and away from her arm.
Isa forced her eyes open to see that Levi had knelt down beside her, so his face was in front of hers, those blue eyes watching intently.
She felt his other hand come up to rest hesitantly on her head. “Don’t worry about me. If you need to squeeze my hand, do it. As hard as you need to.”
When Hange got to a particularly tender area of the wound, probably the deeper part, she couldn’t hold back the whimper as her eyes squeezed shut again, and her hand clamped down hard on his.
“Look at me.” She heard Levi’s voice whisper close to her ear.
Her pain filled eyes fluttered open and saw that Levi’s face was even closer to hers, and somehow, it managed to distract her from the pain.
“That’s it, just keep watching me, and just keep squeezing my hand.” She felt his thumb stroke lightly across her forehead.
She nodded as her lip trembled, but as she held his gaze, those beautiful blue eyes began numbing her to the pain. She didn’t know how, but they were. She could see so many emotions floating in there. She was drowning in them. The feel of his hand on hers and his hand on her head as he brushed lightly across her skin were sending a languid warmth throughout her, and the pain in her eyes was pushed aside as affection filled them.
“Alright, Isa, we’re all done.” Hange’s voice brought Isa’s attention back to her, and she saw that Hange had finished with the stitches and had wrapped a bandage around it.
“Thanks, Hange.”
Hange put her hand on Isa’s shoulder. “No problem. We should get you cleaned up now, you’re pretty gross.”
Isa smirked. “Well now that’s saying something, coming from you.”
“That hurts, Isa.” Isa couldn’t help but giggle at the feigned offense in Hange’s voice and the joking light in her eyes.
Hange turned to Levi. “Can you go get some clothes for her from her room? I’m going to take her into my bathroom to help her get cleaned up. She can’t get the stitches wet right now.”
Isa was no stranger to being naked in front of Hange. During training, the showers hadn’t had any stalls like the ones on base.
The problem was, was that she would have preferred the gentleness of Levi’s touch over Hange’s tendency to not recognize her own strength. The irony wasn’t lost on her.
But she couldn’t very well say that, so she just kept quiet.
Hange helped her remove her clothes and helped her get cleaned up. Most of it, Isa could do on her own, and Hange was there to help as she needed it.
Once she’d finished, she walked out of Hange’s bedroom into her office, and saw that Levi was nowhere to be found, most likely having returned to his office.
When she asked Hange if she needed her, Hange just waved her off, telling her to get some rest, and that she’d deal with Uma and Erwin.
She could tell he’d been upset. She just didn’t know if he was upset with her for not being more careful around Uma or if it was something else.
Should I…should I go check on him? Or does he want to be alone?
Something spurred her to move forward, to go to him. When she got to the door of his office, it was closed. She considered knocking but thought against it, opening it slowly and stepping inside, the door clicking shut softly behind her.
He was standing in the center of his office one hand clenched in his hair, the other clenched tight at his side.
She’d never seen him so on edge before, and it worried her.
She approached him, ever so slowly and placed a hesitant hand on his shoulder and he jolted, clearly not having noticed that she was in his office.
Any other time, and she might have been amused to have caught him completely by surprise, but in that moment, all she cared about was making sure that he was okay.
He turned his head to face her, and she saw his eyes were wild with emotion as they held her gaze, more than she’d ever seen from him. She didn’t know how he was still standing with all the intense emotions that must have been surging through him.
“Levi? Are you alr—”
He grabbed her as he whirled around, pulling her close, wrapping her in his arms, effectively cutting off her question as her breath huffed out from the force with which he drew her in.
She was stunned. Not counting the little side hugs, this was the first time he’d hugged her first like this, without her having to ask. And she noticed something as he held her.
He’s…he’s shaking. It’s barely noticeable, but I can feel him trembling ever so slightly.
She brought her arms up around his neck, ignoring the light stretch and pull that came from the freshly stitched cut on her arm, one hand coming up to stroke gently at his hair, wanting to comfort.
He buried his face in her neck, hands clutching at her shirt in tight fists at her back, pulling her in tighter, as if he were afraid to let her go again.
She stroked gently at his hair as he held her. She could feel his uneven breaths tickling at her neck.
She was still stunned at the feel of him holding her as if his life depended on it. He’d never held her like this before.
“It’s…it’s okay, Levi, I’m here.” She murmured. Her words seemed to penetrate whatever fog was muddling his brain, because she felt him relax ever so slightly as the tension subtly left his body.
His hands unclenched from her shirt as his arms moved to pull her in even tighter, one arm wrapping around so that his hand gripped gently at her waist, the other arm up and across her back so that his hand lay on her shoulder.
“I…I didn’t know what to do. You were gone, out there, alone, with her, and I had no idea how to find you.” His voice was shaky, she’d never heard him sound so unsteady.
She realized that for a man like Levi, who always knew what to do, what to say, to feel that uncertainty must have been beyond jarring for him.
“Shh, it’s okay, I’m here now.” She could feel his nose brushing against her neck, and the feel was invigorating. She could slowly feel his trembles cease and his breaths become steadier as she held him.
His voice was muffled against her neck as he breathed in her sweet, intoxicating scent, the one that always seemed to linger even after she’d left a room, memorizing it, never wanting to forget it. “If it hadn’t been for your damn horse. I think you’re right about them. She knew to find me, and when I hopped on, I didn’t even have to tell her to move, she just did. I didn’t guide her, nothing. She brought me to you.”
Her eyes pricked with tears for her beautiful horse. “Don’t sound so surprised. I was bound to be right about something.”
A breathless chuckle escaped him, and her heart stuttered at the sound of his laugh and the feel of it against her neck.
What he did next shocked her, and her brain completely shut off.
He pulled back and cupped her face in his hands, pressing his lips to her forehead in a firm kiss, before resting his forehead on hers, fingers threading into her damp hair, blue eyes focused completely on hers. “Are you alright?”
Her eyes were wide as her heart hammered in her chest. She could feel the telltale creep of red spreading across her cheeks at what he’d just done.
She stammered, struggling to regain the ability to speak. “I…umm…I…yes.” She cleared her throat. “I’m fine, Levi. I was able to defend myself thanks to you. She didn’t stand a chance.”
Another breathless chuckle escaped him, and her eyes widened even more.
T-two laughs in one night?
She watched as the amusement in his eyes faded as they grew intent, serious, thumb stroking her cheek. His brows furrowed as if trying to figure out how to put into words what he felt. “If something had happened to you…I…I don’t know what I would have done.”
She swallowed thickly at the admission, so quiet, she wondered if she’d imagined it, and at the same time, his words had her heart swelling with love. The feel of his hands on her face kneading in her hair made her want to purr.
“It’s a good thing you don’t have to find out.” She smiled gently, reaching up to lay her hand on his that was still caressing her cheek. “I told you before, you’re stuck with me.”
His eyes warmed, a gentle smile crossing his lips, softer than she’d ever seen, sending a warmth washing through her.
“Pain in the ass.” Instead of the teasing note that he normally used to say those words, his voice had taken a calmer tone, full of warmth, almost sounding…affectionate.
Her own smile sweetened further, eyes full of love that were caught in his mesmerizing gaze as her hand traced delicate patterns on his. “Grouchy ass.”
She was trapped again, hopelessly trapped in those enchanting eyes that cast spells on her, the weight of his forehead resting gently on hers, the feel of his hand on her face, his fingers in her hair, his thumb stroking her cheek were all sending tingles washing through her.
His nose was brushing up against hers, and she reveled in the feel of every point of contact between the two of them. It sent a warm feeling of pure contentment flowing through her that she wanted to hold tight to and never let go.
His lips were, once again, mere centimeters from hers, his soft breath mingling with hers and she wanted nothing more than to finally close the distance, to finally know the truth, but something kept holding her back. She desperately wanted to put her trust in her friends, but she was afraid of being wrong and of not being enough.
All those deep-rooted insecurities, the ones that had been festering since childhood, were preventing the confidence she’d felt from her fight with Uma from transferring over into other parts of her life.
She desperately wished that if he did want her, he would do something, so that the sheer agony of not knowing could end.
‘As if he’d ever want someone as plain and pathetic as you.’
Dammit Uma, how did you manage to latch on to such a deep-rooted insecurity?
And how does it always happen just when I’m starting to hope again?
A loud scream filled the air, followed by Hange’s enraged voice, shattering the moment. “That’s right bitch, relish in the pain. We’ve got to set your knee back in place next. Consider this payback for the hell you’ve put Isa through, though it’s not nearly enough.”
Isa laughed. “I think Hange is enjoying that a bit more than she should.”
“She deserves it.”
Isa looked down at the ground, chewing at her lip.
“What?”
She shrugged. “I…I don’t know, I just…I understand what she was feeling.” She brought her eyes back to his, begging him to understand what she meant. “I don’t agree with what she did for obvious reasons. But…she was grieving because her mother was sick and dying and latched on to me as an outlet for it.”
He gave her a sharp look. “I’d better not be about to hear you say you’re going to forgive her.”
She raised her brow in defiance. “Not that it’s your choice, but no, I’m not forgiving her.”
“Good.” He looked satisfied with her answer.
Her brows furrowed as she tried to put into words what she’d seen while fighting Uma. “It’s just…I understand. That anger? I felt it that day when I read her note saying she’d sent Ethel to her death. I wanted to find whoever was doing this to me and tear them apart limb from limb. She let her anger and grief consume her.”
Her lips curled into a gentle smile at the reminder of all he’d done for her. “But I think that’s because she didn’t have a sweet, grouchy grump to pull her back.”
Her eyes warmed with affection as she brought her hand still threaded in his hair to his cheek, thumb stroking lightly, her other hand still resting on his. She watched as his eyes darkened, holding her captive.
“You pulled me back, Levi.” Her voice was a hushed whisper. “If you hadn’t, I probably would have lost myself to that anger, that rage, that grief.”
Her eyes, though still full of affection, held the slightest hint of shame at what she had felt when she’d broken. “In that moment, I wanted the person writing those notes to suffer, like I’d suffered, and I didn’t care what I had to do to get there, didn’t care what I would need to do to hurt them, the way they’d hurt me. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t brought me back, Levi. Everything you did for me, brought me back.”
She placed a tender kiss on his cheek, thumb stroking over the skin lightly, as if to seal it. “Thank you, Levi. For everything, for being there for me. For being the sweet, grouchy ass grump that you are.”
She brushed at the bangs on his forehead, and watched as his eyes closed, with what she thought might almost be a content look on his face, but she couldn’t be sure. “I wouldn’t change you for anything.”
His eyes opened again, full of a warmth she’d never seen from him before that had her breath hitching and her heart thrumming as he held her gaze.
‘A man’s eyes never lie.’
His only response was to place another kiss on her forehead, this one gentler than the last, a whisper of butterflies across her skin.
When he pulled her in close again, she realized something.
She realized that that had not been the first time she’d felt that feather light sensation akin to the feel of a butterfly that sent tingles washing across her skin.
She held him tighter, her face buried in his neck, breathing in the scent that was inexplicably Levi that always soothed her and made her feel safe.
I love you, Levi. Maybe…maybe one day I’ll be strong enough to tell you. You deserve all the love in the world, every single bit of it, but…I just, I can’t, I’m not ready to tell you, I’m too afraid.
She lost track of how long she held him, of how long he held her. Not wanting to let go, and it felt as if he didn’t either with the way his arms were wrapped around her, no longer awkward, now certain and sure.
She didn’t know that it had been his desperate need to hold her again that had finally overridden his awkwardness in the act. Just as Isa took a first step towards confidence that night, Levi took a first step towards becoming more comfortable, less hesitant with affection.
She could feel the muscles in his arms as they held her, the strength in them enough to take down titan after titan, to take down countless enemies, yet they held her with such tenderness, the same sweetness he’d used to take care of her that night after Ethel died.
She could feel the rise and fall of his chest with each passing breath, a gentle reminder that he was alive and here with her.
She could feel his hand cradling the back of her head, fingers threaded into her hair once more, once again filling her with the need to do nothing but purr in complete bliss.
She could feel his cheek resting on the side of her head, as if he wanted to have as much contact with her as possible.
She could feel his legs brushing against hers with how close they were, bodies practically flush against each other, sending a steady hum throughout her.
I could stay like this, forever.
She reluctantly pulled back, still not wanting to let go, and the way his arms held tight made her wonder if he didn’t either. “I…I should probably go get some rest. I don’t think being kidnapped and almost murdered counts as an excuse to miss training.”
Before she could move, he’d picked her up, cradling her against his chest, carrying her to his room and setting her gently on his bed.
Eyes wide, she watched in stunned silence as he removed his shoes and laid down behind her.
Her heart hammered in her chest when he wrapped his arm around her waist, drawing her close.
“Is…is this alright?” She thought his voice sounded hesitant, as if uncertain if he should have done this.
She looked over her shoulder to see his head hovering over hers, intent eyes watching her, full of emotions she still didn’t know how to read. She swallowed thickly, heart flipping in her chest as she nodded slowly. “Y-yes.”
Before she could turn back to face forward, he gently brushed the hair out of her face, leaning in to place a tender kiss on the bruise that had formed where Uma had hit her with the butt of her knife to knock her out, stroking at it lightly.
A shiver ran down her spine as her breath hitched, heart thrumming even faster. She watched him with wide eyes, cheeks flushing, unsure of what she was supposed to do, of what he wanted her to do.
She was caught in his gaze again, his eyes asking her questions she still didn’t know how to decipher, still didn’t know how to answer. She could feel his fingers still brushing lightly at the bruise, as if he wished to erase it from her skin.
Could he?
She wished she had more courage when it came to this. She wanted that surge of confidence she’d felt when she fought Uma, the one that had made her feel powerful, as if she were capable of anything. It had been so addicting, and she wished she knew how to transfer that confidence from then to now, to this very moment, so that she could finally give into her desires and just try, to take that risk.
Any other woman would be able to reach up and pull his head down and take what she wanted.
‘As if he’d ever want someone as plain and pathetic as you.’
But she was still afraid, afraid of messing up, of not being good enough, of being a disappointment, of being wrong to even consider listening to everyone who kept telling her that he cared for her as more than a friend.
She may have now felt confident in her skills, but she was as timid as ever when it came to muddling her way through romance and desire.
Swallowing thickly, she turned to face forward again, desperate to hide her reaction to him, and just let him hold her close.
‘Just don’t let your worry hold you back from doing the things you want to do.’
Armin…I wish it were that easy.
She was surrounded by him, his arm around her waist, hand resting lightly on her stomach, mindful of the tender bruise, his chest pressed against her back. His other arm had come to rest underneath her head, his hand now lay in front of her.
She wondered what it would be like if his hand drifted further down.
Goosebumps washed across her skin as she felt his feather light breaths against the back of her neck.
She could feel the front of his legs against the backs of hers, sending a rush through her system as the blood in her veins grew hot. If she were to shift her hips any further back, she’d be seated right against him.
The thought had her core pulsing in desperation, something sensual inside her daring her to do it, to take that chance, and her legs involuntarily shifted against each other ever so slightly, as if that was supposed to relieve the tension.
What am I supposed to do? This…this is different from that night after Ethel’s death. I was too overcome by grief to feel anything else, but now, now all I feel is him.
Should I have kissed him earlier? Is that what he wanted me to do? Is that what he was asking?
How is it that other women know what to do in these situations? Is it from experience? Instinct?
I never got the chance to experience anything romantic that normal teenagers get to experience, so I never know what to do, I never know how to read the situation, I never know how to read him.
I never know whether or not I’m imagining these things or if it’s actually as it seems. Actually as I think.
How am I supposed to know for sure without having to take that risk?
Is my struggle because of that or is it just me?
Is it really like Ethel and Hange said, and it’s my fear blinding me?
Her heart fluttered when his hand left her waist to trace up her arm, stroking lightly at the bandage covering the stitched-up flesh where Uma had cut her, before coming back to rest on her stomach.
She took a deep breath, before moving her hand down to lay on top of his, her other hand hesitantly going to the one in front of her face. A rush went through her when he turned his hand over, linking his fingers with hers.
What she had first thought were only nerves jangling in her stomach, she realized was actually a combination that included excitement. The nerves were still there, but she felt…giddy at the feel of him holding her so close.
But…is he…is he holding me because he wants to? Or is he holding me because he thinks I want him to, like I did that night after Ethel died?
And…when he kissed my forehead, he’s done that before, only…I didn’t realize it then.
‘Tell me Isa, how are your interactions with him? Does he find random reasons to touch you?’
She thought back to the way he stroked her cheek, brushed at her hair, ruffled her hair. All those gentle touches.
Could he?
Her breath hitched at the possibility as she looked at where her hand held his, as she focused on the feel of him surrounding her, the endless warmth, the endless safety, the endless strength.
‘I think he feels more for you than just friendship.’
Is it just my imagination? But…he was never like this with Furlan or Isabel, and they were as close as you could get to him. He doesn’t act this way with anyone else but me.
She thought back to her two friends, and his relationship with them. They’d been close, but only she got to see this soft side of him.
She thought back to how he’d kissed her forehead, to the way he’d held her, taken care of her after Ethel died, all he’d done for her.
Maybe?
The feel of his hand on her stomach, his chest on her back had the rush growing even hotter. She was almost tempted to give in to what she wanted and push away her fears and just finally try. Almost, except…
‘I can tell he sees you as a good friend. As if he would ever want someone as plain and pathetic as you.’
That damn thought kept plaguing her, keeping any surge of confidence at bay. She didn’t know how to get rid of it.
Anytime she came close to hoping, anytime she came close to thinking he did want more with her, anytime she came close to finally acting, that thought came to mind, the one, courtesy of Uma, that had latched its roots into her that day after she’d kissed him, and then grown and festered, only to be fueled by Uma’s new words.
How do I know who to believe?
‘Stop asking questions you know the answer to.’
But I don’t know if I know the answer to these questions, Levi. And I don’t know how to ask you. Sometimes I think I know, sometimes I feel like…but I…I don’t want to mess something up…I don’t want to disappoint you if I end up not being what you want.
“I’m sorry.” His hand had come back to the bandage on her arm, stroking ever so lightly.
That took her by surprise, pulling her from her spinning thoughts. She looked back at him over her shoulder. “Why are you sorry?”
She thought his eyes held the slightest bit of guilt that she hated seeing. There was no reason for it.
“That this happened to you.”
She didn’t like the way he looked so…sad. It wasn’t right. He may be grouchy and grumpy, but sad just wasn’t right for him.
She flipped over in his arms, brow furrowed as she met his eyes with her stern gaze. “Now you listen to me, Levi. This wasn’t your fault.” She emphasized her words with a poke to his shoulder.
His hand had settled onto her waist, the warmth of his hand thrilling her. “I know. But if I had been more persistent about Uma, then maybe this wouldn’t have happened.”
“Who is it who’s always telling me that there’s no point in wondering, because it doesn’t change the past and it doesn’t change what happened?”
He just stared at her.
She cupped his face in her hands, keeping his gaze on hers. “Levi, listen to me. It’s thanks to you that I was even able to take her on. If you hadn’t been training me, I would have never been able to defend myself. All that matters is that I’m here, I’m alive, and I’m safe. And most of that, is thanks to you.”
One of her hands came up to brush through the thick raven strands on his head, and his blue eyes deepened at the act, boring into hers. “You know what was running through my mind the entire time I was fighting Uma? Everything you taught me, your words kept running through my mind, guiding me. That was all you, Levi. I may have done the fighting, but you guided me every step of the way.”
His hand came up from her waist to lay on the side of her head, grazing lightly at the moonlit cast shadows on her cheek as she watched as the traces of guilt began to fade from his eyes.
Her hand came back down to circle his face in warmth and affection, thumb brushing gently across the shadows under his eyes. “I’m not going to let you go down that path of blaming yourself. I forbid it. I’ve been there, and it’s not fun, and it’s hard to get out.”
Her eyes held a sad light as she remembered how long she’d blamed herself for Lucy’s death. “It starts off with wondering if you could have done something differently, and then it grows into something worse, and the roots of doubt take hold and grow and fester until it’s consuming you. You don’t deserve that. Please Levi, don’t…don’t blame yourself.”
His hand moved from her face to encircle her wrist, thumb stroking at her hand that lay gently on his face as his lips curved into a small smile. “I won’t.”
An affectionate smile crossed her face. “Good, I’d prefer you to be a grouchy ass than a mopey ass. Then we definitely couldn’t be friends.”
She giggled when he flicked her forehead. “Such a pain in in the ass. You seem to like that name though, so I’m going to need to find something else to call you.”
She poked at his shoulder, smirking at him. “You could call me by my name.”
His lips twitched in humor as he poked her forehead. “You’re one to talk.”
She propped her head up on her hand, enjoying the feel of his face looking up at hers. “Who started it?”
“At this point, I honestly don’t know, but most likely you, being the pain in the ass that you are.”
She rolled her eyes chuckling. “If it really bothered you that much, you wouldn’t hang around me all the time.”
He raised a brow at her in amusement. “Maybe I just don’t want to deal with the hassle of someone new. Most people I find annoying.”
She poked at his shoulder again. “Admit it, I’m just fun to be around.”
“Now who’s the modest one?”
“Must be from hanging around you so much. Next thing you know I’m going to be walking around with a surly ‘fuck you’ expression on my face.” She let a mock glower take over her face as she teased him.
“Pain. In. The. Ass.” Each word was emphasized by a hard flick to her forehead.
She couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped her. “Maybe, but you wouldn’t have me any other way.”
The corner of his mouth quirked up, eyes lit with amusement, but she didn’t catch that they were also lit with the warmth from earlier. “You may be right about that.”
A satisfied smirk crossed her lips. “Twice in one night. Was bound to happen, I couldn’t be wrong about everything all the time.”
“So modest.”
“Such a grouchy ass.”
“Better than a pain in the ass.”
She blinked at him. “Wait, that’s my line.”
He hummed in amusement. “I think I like it better, I might keep it.”
“Fine, then I get to flick your forehead.”
She lifted her hand to flick his forehead, but he stopped her with his hand. “Nope.”
A pout crossed her lips in mock offense. “You’re no fair.”
The corner of his lip quirked up. “You knew that from the start.”
She let her head lay back against his shoulder, pulling her hand back down. “Fine. You win grouchy ass. But I get to keep my line.”
“So be it.” She could hear the amusement in the voice, and she loved how only she got to see this side of him.
She lay there, enjoying the sound of his muffled heartbeat in her ear, the warmth of his hand back on her waist.
She wanted to just stay there forever, surrounded by him. His other arm was still underneath her and had curled up so that his hand lay gently on her shoulder. She wanted him to hold her like this whenever she wanted, and not just when something terrible had happened.
She just wanted to be with him.
She loved spending time with him, whether it be in silence like this, sharing banter with him, anything. Each time he held her, each time he joked with her, each time she noticed something new about him, the love she felt for him grew and deepened.
She knew there were things about him that she didn’t know, just as there were things about her that he didn’t know. But to her, that didn’t matter. She felt that you could know a person, who they were, even without necessarily knowing every detail of their past.
She wondered if there would ever be a day where she’d feel confident enough to take that risk. The surge of confidence she’d felt earlier had been completely new, she’d never felt anything like it, and it gave her hope that maybe one day she would.
Except, she feared that by the time she did, she may be too late. There may be a day where another woman comes into his life, taking her from him before she ever had the chance to know, to try.
She wanted that confidence back, but she didn’t know how to get it. She struggled with understanding how it was that other women were able to be so confident in their interactions with men, in knowing how to read them.
She’d seen the way the women around the base flirted with the men, batting their eyelashes, twirling their hair around their fingers. It worked for them, but somehow, she knew she’d feel ridiculous to even try it.
She could only imagine Levi’s confused reaction if she did something like that. He’d probably be annoyed and tell her to stop being an idiot, considering that’s how all his adoring fans acted with the Captain Levi.
A smile crossed her face at the reminder of how Levi’s words had played through her mind, guiding her. If she hadn’t been training with him, she knew she most likely would not be alive in this very moment.
As she lay there, a thought, a memory of what happened during her fight, came to mind, one that she was not proud of and had her smile fading.
“I did like you told me, Levi. I worked to get under her skin, so that I could have an edge on her, except…” She chewed at her lip.
“What?”
She raised herself back up on her forearm and looked down on his face, the light squeeze of his hand on her waist and his calm eyes silently encouraging her to continue. “I…I don’t like something I said to her. I…I was taunting her, the way she tried to taunt me. I realized that she didn’t like me talking about her mother, so I latched onto that. She told me I was the reason her mother died. I told her that I’d worked hard for my place after training.”
Shame filled her eyes at the reminder of what she’d said. “And then…I told her that she was the reason her mother died. I can’t help but feel ashamed of it, because I know what that doubt feels like.”
It was what she’d noticed in the way Uma responded to her taunt that truly troubled Isa. “And, the way she reacted? It made me think she’d already thought that about herself and I just made it worse.”
“It doesn’t matter.” His voice held that blunt, matter of fact tone that Isa admired and loved. “In a life-or-death situation, when someone is threatening you, you do what you need to do to survive. She’s the one who put you in that position, and it’s not your fault for surviving.”
“But…that’s what she tried to do to me. All her notes? She wanted me to blame myself, and I did. Me doing that, doesn’t that make me like her?”
“You know the answer to that.” He watched her with those patient eyes, wanting her to come to the answer herself.
She avoided his gaze, still uncertain. “I…I feel like…no.”
“Exactly.” He placed a hand under her chin to gently pull her gaze to his. “The fact that you’re even questioning what you told her, what you did, that you didn’t like it, tells me that you’re nothing like her. Because I guarantee she isn’t questioning that.”
She fought back a yawn, comforted by his words that confirmed what she’d already known. “You’re right as always, Levi.”
“I know.”
The yawn she’d been trying to hold back escaped her, the fatigue from the day beginning to show.
Levi smirked at her, shoving his hand in her face, pushing her head back down eliciting rolling giggles from her. “Go to sleep. Since you seem to be handling yourself, I’m going to start holding back less and less in our training."
She groaned. “Is that even possible? How much are you even still holding back?” Her voice had taken an incredulous tone at the thought.
“You’d be surprised.” She could hear the amusement that had returned to his voice, see it in his eyes as he raised his head to look down at her.
She crossed her arms and pouted, though she was finding it harder and harder to keep her eyes open. “Great. Just when I thought I was actually making progress.”
He brushed the hair out of her face. “You are. You did good today.” She thought he sounded…proud, and that had a rush of joy coursing through at the thought, knowing he wouldn’t have said it, if he didn’t mean it.
A heavy-eyed, content look crossed her face as she struggled to stay awake. “I chose to fight, Levi. And…and I won. I’m not weak.” Drowsiness was taking over her voice.
His thumb traced across her cheek lightly, his voice holding an affectionate note that she didn’t catch. “You never were.”
A sleepy smile crossed her face as her eyes drooped shut. “Thanks Levi.”
“Sleep Isa, I’m right here.”
This time, when he drew her in close, wrapping her tight in his arms, and she felt that feather light sensation on her forehead, she knew what it was, and a tranquil sigh escaped her as she drifted off, snuggling closer to him.
~ - ~
As Levi lay awake listening to the sounds of Isa’s hushed breaths of sleep, he couldn’t help but think about everything that had happened that day, fingers threaded gently in her hair, relishing in the feel of the soft, silky strands.
He’d never felt sheer terror like that before. Even on that first expedition, when he’d realized his mistake, this fear had been different. It had shaken him down to his very core. The mere idea, the mere thought of something happening to Isa had filled him with an icy dread that he hadn’t warmed from until he’d finally held her safe in his arms.
The relief he’d felt when he’d seen she was alive had practically taken him to his knees. If it hadn’t been for years of practice in containing himself and his emotions, he would have collapsed at her feet and begged her to never scare him like that again.
Along with the dread, he’d felt a resurgence of an icy fury he hadn’t felt for a long time at this point.
He’d felt it back in the Underground when Erwin had captured him, Isabel, and Furlan, and Mike had shoved his face into a puddle of sewer water.
He’d felt it after Isabel and Furlan had died, and Erwin had told him that he’d known about their deal the entire time.
He’d felt it when he’d seen Isa pressed up against the wall by that swine who had been trying to take something from her that she wasn’t willing to give him. He’d seen plenty of men like that in the Underground, heard how they’d treated his mother, and he’d wanted to tear the man apart limb from limb for daring to put his filthy hands on her.
But he hadn’t felt that icy rage since Isa had managed to break through to him, and she’d brought him a peace he hadn’t felt in a long time, wasn’t sure he’d ever felt. And the thought of someone trying to take her from him, of someone just trying to hurt her for some bullshit plot for vengeance had brought back that iciness.
He hadn’t even noticed her come into his office. He’d left Hange’s office to take a moment so he could try to settle the cold fury before seeking her out so he could just hold her. The relief flowing through him had been trying to force out the remaining vestiges of that dread, the desperation, the rage, the fear of what could have happened.
He hadn’t sensed her presence until he’d felt her light, hesitant hand on his shoulder, asking him if he was alright, and after holding back the urge to hold her all night, he’d finally given in and pulled her close so he could feel that she was safe and alive, so he could breathe in her delicate, sweet feminine scent, so he could feel her breaths against him.
She always did that. Even if she was the one hurting, even if she was the one in pain, she always found it in herself to care more for the well-being of others. He’d seen it before.
That day when she’d shown him those letters and offered to help him with his reading skills, despite the fact that she’d just lost two people who were incredibly close to her, despite the fact that someone was hellbent on breaking her.
When she’d forgiven Sherri despite how badly she’d treated her, despite how much she’d hurt her, simply because she didn’t want her friend to suffer.
The fact that she’d been able to empathize with Uma, just because she’d experienced that anger that had been consuming her.
When Hange had been stitching her arm and she’d tried to keep her grip loose on his hand, even though he knew she’d been in pain.
He didn’t understand how someone who’d gone through the things she had, could be so compassionate, so caring with others, even when she had her own fresh wounds. But it was something else about her that pulled him to her, though at times, it frustrated him.
He wanted her to think about herself, to put herself first. He didn’t understand why she was always so hesitant to put what she wanted first.
And the warmth in her eyes when she’d told him that he’d been the one who’d pulled her out of that rage she’d felt when she’d found out how that old woman had ended up being sent outside the walls. He could drown in that warmth, could stare at her eyes for years and never tire.
He’d been afraid for her both that day when she’d been full of a rage he hadn’t known she possessed, and the day before. As soon as he’d seen the older woman approach, he’d known. He’d known that she wouldn’t make it outside the walls, and he’d known that it would hit Isa hard.
He just hadn’t realized how hard.
He’d expected her to grieve, to mourn, but he hadn’t expected to see her hunched into herself in Luna’s stall. It had brought back an all too painful memory of himself, and he’d hated seeing that look on her. It wasn’t just the half-dead look, but the defeated look, that helpless look that comes from too much loss, pain, and suffering.
The relief he’d felt that day at the old woman’s grave, when her eyes had finally warmed again, until tonight, he’d never felt relief like that. Just seeing those eyes lose that chilly grief, he’d known Isa was back.
Earlier, when she’d almost left to go back to her room, he hadn’t been ready to let her go, and it had felt as if she hadn’t wanted to go either.
He’d needed to keep holding her, needed to know that she was still here, terrified that if she left he’d never see her again. And when he’d set her down on his bed and she’d watched him with those eyes…and then when he’d laid down behind her, it had felt so…right for her to be in his arms again.
He didn’t understand how something so simple could feel so right.
He hadn’t known what had compelled him when he’d leaned up to kiss the bruise on her face. Something about her made him calmer, gentler, made him want to do all the things she did to him, hold her, stroke the smooth skin of her cheek, stroke her hair, stroke the surprisingly soft skin of her hands.
He didn’t understand how her hands managed to remain so soft when they were constantly using maneuvering gear.
For a second, the way she’d stared at him with those warm eyes, filled with something akin to desire, it had looked like she’d wanted more, just like he wanted more, and the mere thought, the hope that had filled him had taken his breath away.
But then she’d turned back around, and he’d thought maybe he’d misread her.
Except, it hadn’t been the first time he’d seen that look on her face.
When he’d been promoted to Captain, that night when she’d hugged him, he’d been about to kiss her, he could still feel her soft, shaky breaths as he’d leaned closer, and if it hadn’t been for Hange, he would have. She’d had that same look then.
That night at the tavern after she’d kissed him, he’d seen it then too. And later that night, when he’d let his forehead rest on hers, and she’d looked up at him with those captivating eyes that always trapped him.
That day when he’d taken her to see that old woman’s grave and she’d stared up at him as her head lay against his shoulder.
Except for that first night, she always turned away, and he didn’t know why.
When he’d taken her to the old woman’s grave and she’d tilted her head up as it lay against his shoulder to look at him and her eyes had fluttered shut, he hadn’t been able to resist the urge to kiss her forehead.
When her eyes had opened again, there had been a shining warmth in them that he’d never seen directed towards him before. It was different than their normal warmth. It had been so sweet and beautiful and had made his breath catch as something warm had spread through him, something he felt too often when around her.
And the feeling was addicting.
But he was never sure what she wanted, if she wanted anything more from him. For someone as open as she was, he found her incredibly hard to read most of the time.
Normally he was perceptive and read people easily, but for some reason, with her, he couldn’t. He couldn’t figure out what it was she wanted.
And so as she slept, safe once again beside him, he made a decision, another silent promise to her.
He’d made a promise to her a few weeks ago, that he’d be there for her, however she needed. If all she needed from him was to hold her and be her friend, then he’d do that.
He wouldn’t push her or ask her for anything more if it wasn’t what she wanted. She’d been through too much these past few weeks, and he didn’t want to cause her anymore stress. He refused to be like those men in the Underground who forced women to do what they wanted.
He didn’t want to do anything that would bring back that half-dead look in her eyes. He’d rather throw himself into a titan than see that look on her face again. If she didn’t feel for him as he did for her, he knew she’d only feel guilt at not being able to return whatever it was that he always felt coursing through him.
Besides, he didn’t know if it was fair to ask her for more when he himself didn’t even understand everything he felt.
Some things he recognized.
Desire.
This wasn’t the first time he’d felt desire for a woman, but this desire was different, it wasn’t just physical desire, it was deeper, more intense than anything he’d ever felt.
She was beautiful, there was no denying that, he’d seen that on that very first day. But again, it wasn’t just her physical beauty. Her whole being was so full of life and joy, and it was as if it called out to some long-buried part of him.
That one taste of her he’d had on the night of her birthday had left him aching for more, but again, she always turned away.
That day when she’d had him sit in Luna’s stall while she drew him, and it had been so unnerving to have her take in all his features, her gaze traveling down his body as she drew, brows furrowed as she took in every detail, had had him shifting as he sat, struggling to control his reaction as thoughts and images of her filled his mind, which he’d managed…barely.
The fact that just her looking at him could draw that kind of reaction was proof at how deep this desire went. That had never happened before.
Protectiveness.
This wasn’t the first time he’d felt the need to protect people.
He’d wanted to protect his mother but hadn’t been able to. He’d been too young and inexperienced, with no way of giving her what she needed to survive.
Furlan, Isabel, his two best friends that he’d swore he’d protect, and they’d put their trust in him. But he’d made the wrong choice and hadn’t been able to do so.
But this was also different, ran deeper than the desire he’d felt to protect his friends. He felt an urge to keep her protected, to keep her safe. No matter what. No matter the cost.
But he also knew that she was more than capable of taking care of herself. He’d seen her strength, the proof in how much she had was in how she’d fought back against Uma tonight. He would always stay by her side to keep her safe, but he would never overshadow her own strength.
Admiration.
Despite her fears, she never hesitated to protect the ones she cared about. The way she’d defended Isabel against that man in Trost, without hesitation. She’d stepped in before anyone had had the chance to react, himself included.
Despite her insecurities, there were times where she found courage to stand up for herself. The way she’d stood up to Mark after he called her such a vile name and he’d wanted to rip the man’s tongue out. He didn’t understand why people would ever degrade any woman that way, much less someone like Isa.
The way she’d stood up to Shadis when he’d told her she wasn’t special. Levi knew that man couldn’t have been more wrong. Isa was special. She had a determined nature that was stronger than anything he’d ever seen in a person. She was more than capable outside the walls. He’d seen how she maneuvered with her gear, so fluid, her movements so smooth and sure.
The way she chose to fight, even when she was terrified. That day when the old woman had showed up. That day when she’d shown him the notes. The way she’d fought today. Underneath the relief of seeing her alive, he’d felt a sense of pride in seeing how she’d handled Uma. She was a fighter, he just didn’t think she saw it yet.
Empathy.
When he’d seen her in Luna’s stall, broken, with that lifeless look in her eyes, he’d been filled with that same empathy he’d felt when he’d came across Isabel in the Underground, but even then, it was still different.
He’d wanted to do everything he could to help her in whatever way she needed, to do whatever he could to wipe away that look on her face, to do whatever he could to help her grieve, to bring her back to him, to bring peace to her the way she had to him after Furlan and Isabel had died.
It was the other emotions, the gentler ones, that he didn’t understand, didn’t know the names for. The ones that sent a warmth through him anytime she looked up at him while leaning against him, anytime he held her close, whenever he saw that sweet, peaceful look she only got around her horse, whenever he was just near her, thought of her.
Those emotions, he didn’t know what they were, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to figure those out.
He’d felt it when he’d asked her why she wasn’t afraid of him.
‘You don’t hurt people because you like to. I’ve never given you a reason to hurt me, so I have no reason to be afraid.’
Most people he came across were afraid of or intimidated by him. But not her. Even when he’d tried to intimidate her, she’d never looked at him with fear. If anything, she’d either looked at him with curiosity or amusement or defiance if he’d really pushed her.
He’d felt it that night of his ‘birthday,’ when she’d given him that drawing of his mother.
He felt it just listening to her talk about anything that was on her mind, and the way she didn’t care if he didn’t have much to say back.
He’d felt it that day when she’d offered to answer any questions he had about her, simply because she wanted to know more about him. Not many people wanted to know him. They were either terrified of him or they glorified him, but didn’t care about him.
But he still didn’t understand what that warmth was, those feelings, those sensations.
Besides, even if he did understand what he felt for the woman lying beside him, she may not feel the same.
So if all she needed from him was his friendship, and to hold her when she needed him to, then he’d give that to her, with no hesitation.
He looked down at her watching how peaceful she looked as she slept. An uncertain hand came up to brush away the hair that had fallen into her face. As he did, she curled up closer to him, her hand coming to rest on his chest above his heart, and that same warm feeling spread throughout him, centering from where her hand lay on his chest.
What is this?
He drew her closer, allowing himself to slowly drift off, the sweet smell that was so inexplicably Isa wafting over him, bringing him a sweet comfort he only felt around her. The last time he’d held her while she slept, he’d slept better than he had in years. It still wasn’t much sleep, but he’d felt rested. Something about her made him feel at peace.
‘I know you care for her.’
I do… but, I don’t even know what that means. I cared about Isabel, and I cared about Furlan…but this…this is different. I don’t know what this is.
‘I know you don’t see it, but you’re good for her.’
He didn’t know what the old bat had been talking about. She must have been senile to think a man like him would possibly be good for someone like Isa.
What could a cold, abrasive man like me from the Underground possibly have to offer the determined, strong, sweet, beautiful woman lying beside me?
<- Chapter 20
Chapter 22 ->
Starved Menu
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@angelofthorr
#levi x oc#Levi x isa#levi ackerman#enemies to lovers#enemies to friends to lovers#friends to lovers#eventual romance#attack on titan#shingeki no kyojin#oc x canon#eventual smut
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I never meant to hurt you
Your boyfriend that you adore, forgot your date for the second time in a month. But he’s determined to let you know how much he loves you.
(Smut)
Yes, Ji is eating in the GIF. That’s my kind of humour :) I know, I’m hilarious.
Pairing Kwon JiYong and female reader.
W.C. 2230
Warning: angst at the beginning. Smut. Oral (female receiving), fingering, touching, squirting and also... Kwon JiYong in a smut is a warning in itself…
NOTE: ok, normally I read my texts like 10 times before I upload. But since I’m writing “king” right now, I wanted to upload it fast enough so I can go back to my serie. Meaning, I read it only once. Meaning, there will be mistakes. Sorry in advance. But still, enjoy!
Don’t be shy to comment in private or under the post. I don’t mind the way but I love to hear from you.
“Stop it Kwon! I’m way too mad to hear that shit!” You told him over the phone.
“But Jagi… I’m… I don’t understand... ”
He doesn't understand? What a blatant lie. It was the second time it happened this month. You understood his crazy schedules, you always did. You knew he may have to cancel your date night sometimes. You too, had to to work and changed your plans. He’s fucking G-Dragon after all, you knew how busy he was before you started this relationship.
But this month, he didn’t cancelled, he just completely forgot to show up. TWICE. No texts message, no phone call. Nothing. And both times, you waited for him like a fool, alone at the restaurant trying to avoid the empathic glances of the waiters.
“Ji, please. I’m not asking for that much. I wouldn’t be mad if you would have dared notify me. But no, you didn't and it’s the fucking second time this month”.
“Jagi, you’re swearing, you’re really mad!”
“No shit, Sherlock!” You snapped.
“I’m…”
“Spare it Kwon. I wanted to be with you tonight. I took the time to make myself beautiful for you. I combed my hair, I did my makeup and put on your favorite dress”.
“Ooh, no! The lilac one?”
“Fuck the color of the dress Kwon JiYong. Fuck it, it’s not important!”
“Baby… why are you like this?”
“Ji… we planned this night yesterday, you cannot have forget already but you fucking did. I spent one hour ALONE at the restaurant looking at my watch ”
“I told you, I didn’t realised what time it was”.
You were so sad, hearing him say that. You have been waiting for this date, for him, all day with butterflies in your stomach. You were so happy to meet him tonight, to spend time with that man that you love so much. But there he was, forgetting your date. Forgetting YOU.
“In one year of relationship, it never happened Ji, never. But this month, you forgot 2 dates night with me. What’s going on? You don’t love me anymore? Are you tired of us?”
At this idea, tears start to flow on your cheeks, again. But if he doesn’t love you anymore, you don’t want to hold him back, you want him to be happy. You don’t want him to stay with you because he pity you.
“What? No! Of course not. Love, I’m making you cry… I’m so sorry…”
“Ji, I cried all night thinking you don’t love me anymore… but don’t spare me. If it’s over between us, I’d rather know”
“You are the love of my life, how can you say something like that?’
“You love me? Then fucking act like it!”
You heard your words, you knew you sounded childish and egoistic. The last thing you wanted was to be a demanding, spoiled brat girlfriend. Right now, it’s exactly how you sounded though and you didn’t like it.
“Please, listen…”
“Look Ji, let’s talk tomorrow, ok? I love you with all my heart but I can’t talk with you right now. Good night”.
You hang up the phone, you didn’t want him to hear your sobs. You knew you would be loud. You were never the jealous type, as long as he stay faithful, he can go out with his many friends, girls or boys. You trusted him, he was always a wonderful boyfriend. He never made you doubt his commitment. What was going on between you?
However you looked at it tonight, the fact was that he forgot you. Twice. And it hurts like crazy.
Crying, you undress in the living room and let your clothes on the floor, walking on the elegant lilac dress that he bought you at the very beginning of your relation. You took a second shower tonight, making sure to take off all that pretty makeup from your face. After that, no longer having the strength to do anything, you rushed under the duvet, naked. It’s a pang of pain in the chest that you fell asleep.
You didn’t hear him call you softly from the front door neither you heard him walk around the apartment looking for you. You were already in a deep sleep phase when you felt a slight sensation on your thigh. It was soft, light. Almost imperceptible. You turned to the other side and grabbed your body pillow, put one leg over it and continued to sleep. When you felt a light touch starting from your knee and going up to your hip, a delicate caress as if you were touched by a feather, you immediately knew you weren't dreaming.
“Jagi… I’m so sorry I made you cry”
Still mad but mostly hurt, you pretended you were asleep and you didn’t move a bit. You let him do whatever he was doing.
“I was composing a song with hyung. I just lose track of time. I have no excuse, just the cold truth to tell you. I should have set an alarm or something… I deserve your cold treatment”.
Before falling asleep, you took care to wrap yourself in a sheet. It was still wrapped around your chest but your legs were released. The slight pressure of his lips on the outside of your thigh was very noticeable despite its delicacy. Or maybe it was the airiness of the kisses that made your skin tremble.
“I love you so much Y/n… I can’t forget myself for the tears you shred tonight…”
Another serie of kisses. He was now trailing his way down your knee, the heat of his breath washing across your skin.
“I couldn’t live without you” he whispered against your thigh.
You felt the mattress sink under its weight, behind you. His fingertips delicately traced a line from your forearm up to your shoulders. Then, the tender brush of his kisses in the nape of your neck.
“I.Love.You” each words were whispered between soft kisses”
He nuzzled his nose against your neck inhaled into your scent. He kissed your head, caressed your naked shoulder. Then, he were not on your back anymore.
“I know you are awake my love...” he dotted one kiss on your foot
“and I know I deserve your silent treatment but...” a kiss at your ankle
“you told me…” a kiss on your calf followed by a few more on your knee.
“to act like if I love you…” a kiss on your tight this time
“so will I. After all, I am a man of my words”
Suddenly, he grabbed you by the hips and turned you on your back in a gentle but determined movement. Surprised by his action, a soft “oooh” slipped from your lips. Lifting your upper body, resting on your elbows, your eyes met his.
“Ji…”
“Shh my love, let me love you, shall I? Please?” He insisted when he found you didn’t answered fast enough for his taste. You nodded.
“Thank you love! I won’t disappoint”
With a skilful hand, he untied the knot of the sheet and spread it apart to strip you completely. He gazed upon your body, your skin glistening under the moonlight coming from the window.
“You are beautiful”
You knew what was coming as he positioned himself between your legs, spreading your knees in his path. You were craving the act to come and felt the desire burn you inside just thinking about it. Jiyong was good at giving heads, he proved it many times before. But tonight, there was something special in his eyes, something you never saw before.
With a last “I love you”, he dived in.
His mouth grazed your flesh, it was not quite a real kiss yet. Just the sensation of a light, light caress. His lips remained motionless, pressed against your opening. He raised his chin and caressed you like this, his nose getting in the game as it tickled your clit during the movement. His hands drifted to your hips and settle there as he nuzzled his nose on your clit. You couldn't resist the temptation of combing your fingers through his hair.
“Your smell bewitch me, you’re driving me crazy…” he uttered before he shoves his nose a little deeper into your flesh, breathing in your intimate perfume. Your head fell back on the pillow, expecting what was going to come.
“How can you imagine for a second that I don’t love you anymore?”
When you felt a teasing swirl from the tip of his tongue, warmth radiate from the little spot his tongue touched and spread all the way through your body. His hands trailed down from your hips to the inside of your thighs, making you shiver. His caresses became more pressing, more demanding. You glanced in his direction. He was looking at your sex as if he was about to taste the most exquisite dish that had been presented to him, exploring you with his eyes before he would taste you. The thought of him using all his senses to pleasure you, seeing him pleased while doing it, made your heart swell at the same time as your clit.
“So beautiful and mine…”
With a long and flat tongue, a long stroke on your fold,he tasted you. Your flavor was enrapturing, so delightful that he wrapped his arms around your legs and pulled you closer to his face. He buried his mouth in your folds, attentive at each one of your reactions. He was exploring your sex, taking his sweet time.
Pulling back his head, he slipped his fingers between your labia. He put some pressure on it, squeezing them together, sliding his fingers up and down to tease you.
“You love what I’m doing?” He asked pinching your clit and labias together, changing the pressure on his fingers. He was slowly building your orgasm.
“Oh yes! It’s wonderful” you moaned.
He found your clit and very gently at first, with the tip of his tongue, tickled it with a up and down motion. He fasten the speed and the pressure on you then he kissed it once, twice. You start bucking your hips, thrusting your crotch towards his face. You needed more already and you needed it now. You locked eyes with him as he let you moved your hips and pleased yourself on his tongue. For a moment only, because he wanted control tonight. He steady your hips and his tongue became more greedy, he was ready to give you more.
When you felt the gentle suction, you squirmed under him. Your wetness was soaking his lips.
“Mmm Jagi, all those juices just for me. I’m blessed” he murmured against your clit. He grabbed a handful of one breast and started playing with your nipple, rolling it between his fingers. Then he did the same with the other.
“You want something special, love?” he asked between two gentle suckling kisses.
“I want your fingers Ji, please” you rasped out “I’m close already”
“oooh, the effect I have on you…”
He rolled your clitoris across his lips and pulled it further into his mouth, tongue rubbing against it in circles.
“Baby, please… I need it” You were craving for more.
He inserted two fingers and pumped them gently in and out as he continue to suck on you. Each time he tilted his fingers at a perfect angle to reach this place, this precious place that was driving you crazy. You began to quake, holding onto the sheets. The sensations were delightful.
When he felt your whole body tense, he knew what he had to do. He was not teasing you anymore, his suction became more insistent and he fasten the pace of his fingers hitting your spot until. You felt tingly all over your body and your muscles start contracting. Your whole body started to shake uncontrollably and your thighs tightened around his head.
“That’s it love, cum for me” he said before he went back at business.
“Ji, don’t stop… harder, please”
He did as you asked until your had your sweet release. You felt your juices running out of you, sucked and engulfed by that man that you love so much. With every wave of pleasure, you shuddered while was drinking on your cum as if his life depends on it, sucking on you until you stop shaking. When he felt you relax against his mouth, then only, he released the pressure on your clit and stop his fingers from moving. But he kept them inside you.
For a moment you stayed like that, both panting for different reasons. He kissed your tummy gently, brushing his lips against your skin by the time you were coming back to heart. When you stroked his hair softly, he lift his face.
“Was good?” he asked before he laid few soft kisses again.
“If it was good? Ji… it was wonderful. I saw stars”
“So, you know, that I love you, right? You know I never meant to hurt you tonight?”
“I was so scared that you didn’t love me anymore Ji… It was unbearable”
“That much”
“More than that… I almost died from pain…”
“Holy shit! That’s bad. Then I need to so I really show you again, how much I adore you? Shall I?”
When you felt his fingers start to pump again inside of you, you knew what he had in mind.
#kwon jiyong#kwon jiyong smut#Gdragon#Gdragon smut#smut#bigbang smut#bigbang#Gd#Gd smut#Jiyong one shot#Gdragon fanfic#Gdragon imagine#kwon ji yong#KJY#gdragon scenario#jiyong scenario#jiyong smut
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