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books-and-catears · 3 years

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"If I had to choose one of you to kill me..."

Part 2: Asmo, Beel, Belphie

TW: Blood, Gore, Harsh Language, Angst, Illusion of Death

Tagging as requested: @candymeowz @lucigirl-katie @humans-are-weird-by-an-alien @thelegendaryfluffypotato13 @garnetashblurb @wawadraws12

Headcanon Intro

"Asmo."

He's never hated his own name like this before. Usually he'd be so happy to hear you call out his name. The louder the better. His name in your voice echoed in the long hallway as he took his time getting to you. But not today.

"MC hold on okay?! We'll get you out of there somehow! MC turn around! Turn away from him!" Asmo's nails were broken from pounding the barrier too hard.

But you didn't hear. And Asmo approached with a poisonous smile on his face. "Hello there MC~ I was merely waiting for you to call my name."

"Hi Asmo...you look perfect as usual." You smile at him sweetly. His intentions were dark but his voice was sickenly sweet.

"Of course, MC. I'm the last sight you'll ever see, thought I'd make your death more enjoyable for both of us. Speaking of which, we should give you a bath. You don't look very...let's say clean."

Shut up. MC is perfectly fine.

"Into the tub you go." Asmo said snatching off your first layer of clothes and pushing you into the water. "Don't be so shy darling, let everyone watch."

You only sank deeper in the water, hoping the bubbles frothing on top would hide you. Your ears felt hot and your head grew dizzy with embarassment as you stifled a cry.

NO. MC DOESN'T LIKE THIS. THEY'RE NOT OKAY WITH THIS. COVER THEM BACK UP!!

Even outside the barrier everyone averted their gaze to protect your dignity. And if they didn't, Asmo whacked their faces away.

Asmo watched himself in horror and pain as he pretended to grab you gently by the hair before yanking you down below the water and holding you down there. The water bubbled and splashed as you struggled to breathe.

"A-asmo...wait.." You sputtered and coughed water as he pulled you back out. You squinted in pain as the soapy water stung your eyes.

WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU TO INSULT MY MC!? STOP HURTING THEM YOU LITTLE-

"Ah much better now. You stink way less. I shall put you in there forever so you'll always smell fresh! What's wrong? Can't find your last words?" Asmo cackled.

"Thank you...for being my friend, Asmo. You really are beautiful inside out. And I love you...even without you charming me." You said, trying to catch your breathe.

MC...not like this... NOT LIKE THIS! NO! COME OUT OF THERE I WANT TO HOLD YOU!

"Awww that's the spirit! This makes me almost not want to kill you now." Asmo sighed, "Maybe if I was actually your friend I wouldn't." And he pushed you down again, and kept you there till you stopped moving.

MC....? MC???!! MC NO!!

Asmo lost his last ounce of sanity and dug into the barrier with full force. Weakened by your passing out, it ripped easily under Asmo's hands.

He'd already turned into his demon form by the time he reached you. His tail was enough to crush the imposter to dust while he gently held you up in his arms. You were breathing uneven and heavy, not a trace of water on you.

"It's alright now MC! Look who's here! You'll be perfectly safe in my care!" Asmo tried to sound cheery but his hoarse and shaking voice gave him away.

Watching himself talk and hurt his very own MC was dreadful to the point where he couldn't even look at mirrors for a while. He'd just go to you and ask how he looks instead. He knows you love him enough to always be honest.

"Beel."

Beel didn't know what was coming. His knee jerk reaction hearing his name was just to say "Yes MC? I'm here!" from the other side of the barrier. Everything was so sudden and bewildering.

He watched himself in the barrier approaching you slowly. He didn't utter a word. He merely looked at you, picked you off the ground and sat you down on the table, legs dangling off the side.

"Are you not even going to talk to me, Beel?" You ask sadly. "It's fine, it's probably strange right? For your food to talk back to you?"

Beel merely grunted and and fetched some ropes for your arms and a gag for your mouth.

"Sorry about this. Just don't want you running away during the meal." Beel said almost in a whisper.

What's going on...? Why am I looking at myself tying up MC? What's he saying? Why are you calling yourself food MC?

"It's okay. The fact that you're being gentle about it makes it easier to handle. I don't mind if it's you." You smile brighter now.

"You would prefer to be sedated before I start right?" He holds a napkin near your face. It smells overwhelming and dizzies your brain. You nod towards him.

Beel presses it against your face as you collapse into him. "Wait...Beel. I have something to say...you, you are the kindest of the brothers. I'm glad I chose you."

Beel merely grunts in acknowledgement and lets you fall back on the table with a thud.

Careful! MC is delicate, they might be hurt!

But nothing could prepare Beel for what came next. His watched his brothers all look away, wincing and hiding their faces. Even Belphie was trying to nudge him to look away.

"MC has fallen asleep in the dream too right? Doesn't that mean they're supposed to get out of there now?! Belphie why are you pulling me away I-"

His words were interrupted by a sickening sound. He heard the crackle of bones and flesh with loud sounds of chewing. His stomach felt tight suddenly.

"No Beel don't look...Don't look!" Belphie pleaded but the stronger one looked back anyway.

Why is there so much blood...MC are you bleeding... What am I chewing on- no. No. It can't be...

He recognised your arm from the orange painted nails. You'd often color them that to match with him and he loved you for it.

Seeing that arm being detached from you, halfway inside his mouth - sent him puking out the contents of his stomach all over the floor.

He was.. in there...devouring you...and you let him?! WHY? WHY WAS ANY OF THIS HAPPENING?! Did his potion cause ALL OF THIS?!

You're... no...NO YOU'RE EATING MC! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?!

He threw himself on the barrier with full force, shattering it to pieces as he took hold of the other version of him and punched him down, ripping your arm away from its mouth.

Your arm felt real. Warm, flesh and bone and blood throbbing beneath it all before it vaporised along with everything else. Only you lay on the table, sleeping peacefully.

Your arm was still there with orange painted nails. Without another word, he scooped you up and carried you to his room and asked Belphie to watch over you.

After what he'd seen - knowing that you'd seen it too - he didn't know how to face you. He vowed to himself he'd only return your affections the day he can control his gluttony.

"Belphie."

Belphie winced at the sound of his name. It was almost as if someone had screamed it near his ears. And though you said it so lovingly, it echoed around him like an accusation.

If it had been anyone else...ANYONE ELSE except him, they'd all be suprised by what part of them scared MC - but everyone already knew his. Everyone looked apprehensive, trying to brace themselves for what everyone KNEW was going to happen.

He watched himself smile smugly as he stood before you. "Same as usual then?" He mocked, "Would you like a hug like last time as well?"

"Yes please." You nod and smile at him. He seems annoyed by it, grabbing hold of your face. He shook his head in disapproval.

Not again... Not this again...

"What kind of humans smile when they are about to die? Is there something wrong with your brain? Or are you just that accepting of death?" Belphie mocked.

"Death by a loved one's arms is peaceful." You retort as he lets go of you. He seems irritated now - fuming with rage.

"Let's see how peaceful this is." He kicked you in the stomach sending you flying back and hitting the wall behind you. Blood spattered on it just a little while you held your throbbing head.

No..no...no...no... it's even worse than before!?

Belphie could no longer look. He turned around and sat on the floor trying to drown out the noises with his pillow. But he still heard everything.

Your little screams, the loud thuds of kicking and punching, glass crashing, things falling. By the time, the sounds softened he turned around to see an aftermath much much worse than what he imagined.

You lay panting on the floor, covered with cuts and bruises and blood. While Belphie stood with one foot on your neck. "Tell me MC, do you still love me now?!"

"I...I do." Even then you dare to smile. Belpjiw growled in frustration. "DISGUSTING STUPID HUMANS!" He was about to stomp on your neck snapping it cleanly in half but he couldn't.

No more MC. This time I will save you.

And he did. He crashed through the barrier head first, knocking over his imposter as he lay on top of you to protect from the impact.

He watched anxiously as the cuts and bruises disappeared one by one. He even checked the back of your head for injuries. After it was all done - he shakily picked you up and with Beel's help carried you to their room.

"You must have a saint's heart." He whispered as he ran his fingers through your hair while you slept next to him. "Isn't a bit too trusting of you to love someone who gives you such nightmares...?"

You curled into him as a response. And he blushed with wide eyes. "Even when you're asleep you have to be this cute?! Ugh...I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything...MC"

#obey me #obey me angst #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor

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wondersofdreaming · 3 years

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Third time’s the charm

Characters: Henry Cavill x 3rd person female reader (the reader in this story has been described as someone with long brown hair, hazel eyes and not very tall)

Word count: 1.705

Warnings: Fluff. Insecurity. Doubt. Chasing. Jumping.

Author’s note: Thank you @radaofrivia for your guidance and your help <3

Go read her stories right here: Rada’s masterlist

Sentences in square brackets are Kal’s thoughts. Sentences in italics are Henry’s thoughts.

I do not own any characters in this short story, except the reader who is a figment of my imagination.

MASTERLIST

Feedback is appreciated.

It was a lovely day. The sun was shining brightly in the clear blue sky. Not a cloud present. The birds were chirping in the trees, and people were chatting away around him.

His hulking size of a fluffball dog was trotting happily beside him. Kal’s long tongue was sticking out between his sharp fangs, panting and drooling all over the uneven pathway.

He watched as a couple walked past him. They were smiling, and the woman was laughing at a joke her boyfriend had just cracked. It made him long for a special someone in his life he could crack jokes to, a someone who would laugh at his sense of humour, someone with a genuine laugh.

Henry filled his nostrils with the fresh air. He felt the vibrations of children's laughter through the ground. His heart was yearning to hear the giggles of his own flesh and blood, and it clouded his already saddened mind.

He hadn’t noticed that Kal had been sniffing the ground. His ears perked with interest as his nose found a scent that made his mouth water. Kal galloped across the park without warning, making Henry lose his grasp on the leash.

[Something smells yummy!]

“Kal!” Henry yelled at the black and white dog, but it was too late. Kal was already out of sight, following his nose to whatever had caught his attention. Henry wandered around the park. His heart was beating so fast it felt as if it would jump out of his chest. A million scenarios ran through his mind: What if something happened to Kal? What if someone dog-napped Kal? What if Kal hurt someone?

Henry searched all over the park but to no avail until he heard a loud scream coming from behind a group of trees. Shit!

The run towards where the scream came from felt as if it took forever. Time was standing still as he neared the trees. He first noticed the bushy tail, then the rest of Kal’s body, standing atop a woman who was loving up all the licks Kal was giving her. She managed to push the large dog off her body, while her delicate hands were giving him scritches all over his fluffy fur coat.

“You’re such a good boy,” he heard her sweet silvery voice say, then a bark came from his wayward dog.

[Yes, Kal is a good booooy… oh yeah, right there. More scritches!]

Henry let out a breath he hadn’t known he had been holding in since Kal went missing. Thank god!

“Kal!” Henry yelled over the sound of giggles coming from the woman. He started walking towards them but stopped in his tracks like a deer in headlights when the woman looked up. Her hazel eyes shone with excitement, and the grin on her perfectly succulent lips made his heart skip a beat. Henry felt like he had been struck by lightning, suddenly unable to move as he watched the dark-haired angel stand. She dusted off the dirt from her jeans and walked towards him. She seemed unharmed even after having been hammered by Kal, who probably weighed more than she did.

“You must be this dog’s owner. He really scared me, when he suddenly jumped on my back,” she giggled a melodious sound.

Henry’s brain finally started working again, the gears turning behind his eyes as he was processing what she had just told him. Kal; his sweet mild-tempered fluffball, who wouldn’t hurt a fly; had jumped on this woman’s back, and yet she was still smiling and loving up the bear without being afraid. It didn’t seem she knew who he was, as he didn’t see the recognition sparkle in her eyes.

“I am so sorry that he jumped on your back, he normally doesn’t do that, I don’t know what came over him,” Henry knew he was babbling, he knew he needed to shut his mouth, but the words kept vomiting out between his lips.

“It’s okay. I wasn’t that scared. Besides, he is such a sweet dog, I don’t mind being jumbled,” she looked into his eyes, and his heart did a somersault as she smiled again.

“Be a good boy for your owner, Kal,” she told the bear, and then she was gone.

Henry was standing cemented to the place. He didn’t know what had just happened. Kal barked at him, his tongue dangling from between his lips; he was smiling.

“Well Kal, you sure do have great taste in women, but you should stick to the four-legged kind,” Henry reprimanded him softly. Kal wasn’t happy. There was a reason why he had gone rogue and run away from Henry. So, before Henry could pick up the leash, Kal darted through the bushes to find the mystery woman. Not again!

[But I didn’t get to know what smelled so good!]

Henry, having gotten out of his trance, followed his dog once again. Why was his dog so keen on pursuing that woman? It was starting to annoy him. Panic was beginning to make itself comfortable in his brain, what if the woman had something that would make Kal follow her on purpose? What if she was pretending not to know him, so she could steal his dog and ask for an insane ransom?

He rounded a corner just in time to see Kal jump on the brown-haired beauty, again.

“Oh, it’s you again, Kal,” she said with amusement hinting in her voice. Kal barked and went to sniff her jacket, burying his snout deep in her right pocket. He came back out with a bag of peanut butter cookies between his teeth.

[TREATS!]

“Kal! Stop! You pig, what are you doing?” Henry raised his voice sternly at his furry friend. He grabbed Kal’s collar and pulled him away from the lady, making Kal drop the bag of biscuits to the ground. Kal lunged forward, which made Henry think he was going to jump the woman again, so he moved between Kal and the lady, and gave his companion a hard stare, as to say not happening, pal.

“So that is what you were after all along,” she said and picked up the bag.

“I am so sorry, miss, are you alright?” Henry asked while jogging towards the two. She gave him an amused smile.

“I’m fine. He didn’t scare me as much this time. Apparently, he just wants some doggie biscuits. May I give him some? They’re homemade and don't contain anything that could harm a dog.”

“Oh, yes, of course, but he shouldn’t be rewarded for leaping on other people. I swear, he has been trained not to do that,” Henry was rambling again. He was spewing out nonsense while the gorgeous woman was telling Kal to sit before she rewarded him for listening. She even asked him to give her paw, which Kal did immediately, a rare thing as he only wants to listen when he’s in the mood, kind of like a cat. She is way too nice to want to abduct Kal.

“Good boy, Kal.”

[Miss with the treats is super nice. Hey human, can we take her home with us?]

“You said those were homemade, did you make them?” Henry asked.

“Oh, yes. I have a dog myself who is a picky eater. I’ve tried all kinds of doggie treats, but she would spit them out. I had no choice but to experiment on how to make dog biscuits,” the woman told him while she gestured for Kal to lie down, which he obeyed instantly.

“And does she like the homemade treats?”

“She gobbles them down like I didn’t feed her for a week. She’s becoming quite the diva.”

They talked a bit more about her dog, who was a rescue labradoodle, and about how it had changed her look on store-bought dog treats. It was healthier to make them yourselves, and people in her neighbourhood, who had dogs, had been asking if she would sell the biscuits to them. She had then started her own one-man company, making dog treats, and her most popular item was the peanut butter cookies. They were shaped like the femur bone, which was the most popular form for dog treats.

“I’m Henry by the way, may I ask what your name is?” Henry asked her carefully. She smiled brightly at him, and it chased all the dark thoughts he had earlier away from his mind. She told him her name, which was elegant and so fitting a person like her. He had been expecting the penny to drop when he mentioned his name, but she was oblivious as to who he was, which in turn made his heart leap with joy inside behind his chest.

She looked at her wristwatch and gasped.

[Oh boy…]

“Crap, I have to pick up my dog soon. It was nice talking to you, and please don’t let this beautiful boy out of your sight,” a chuckled left her lips as she walked away once again.

Kal licked his mouth for the crumbs that might have gotten stuck on the fur around his snout. He then looked up at Henry with an annoyed look.

“What?” Henry asked with a sigh. Kal tilted his head to the right. “I can’t just jump on her like you do and then ask for her phone number, that would just scare her away.”

Kal looked towards the woman, who was getting further and further away from them. He then let out a bark, and with a waggle of his puffy tail, he demanded that Henry make a choice before it was too late.

[You’re blowing it, human!]

Henry sighed and crouched down.

“What should I do?” he asked the bear-like dog. Kal tilted his head to the side, looking at Henry as if he was crazy.

[Marry her! I want more treats!]

“You like her as well, don’t you, bear?”

Kal stood and bumped his head to Henry’s back, as to tell him to start moving, which made the human mountain chuckle, getting the hint from his dog. He released Kal from the leash and whispered: “Go get her.”

Kal licked his master’s face and darted towards the woman with the gorgeous brown curls.

#Henry Cavill #This man #I need a drink #Fanfiction #Henry Cavill x reader #Henry Cavill x female reader #Henry x reader #Henry x female reader #Third time's the charm #My story #Short story

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dysfunctionalcrab · 3 years

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breaking point

pairing: karl jacobs x reader

pronouns: gender neutral

description: karl can’t get over your death.

warnings: pure angst. readers death, description of illness, description of a breakdown.

note: sorry about this fluff lovers. honestly i feel like if karl was getting over somebodys death he would just have breakdowns :/

-> also this is literally just a way to improve my angst writing.

one month.

a month without waking up every morning and seeing your face. a month without hearing your voice.

of course he knew, he knew you were sick. it would be selfish of him to tell himself that you weren’t. that you weren’t in pain every single day. he watched you get up from bed in the middle of the night, rushing to the bathroom and empty out last nights dinner into the toilet. he sat beside you, rubbing your back and telling you everything was going to be okay. you tried your best to believe it, so desperately did you want to believe him

but even karl himself couldn’t believe it.

day by day he watched you get worse, the hope that glistened in your eyes slowly started to fade away. you became pale, the bags under your eyes were becoming more prominent. you were just so tired

you were tired of everyone telling you were going to be fine, because you obviously weren’t. you knew that eventually you’d have to say goodbye to everyone, and leave everybody you loved.

it got to a point that you couldn’t even open up a jam jar. your frail arms couldn’t twist the lid no matter how hard you tried.

you felt like a burden to everyone, you weren’t that cheerful person you were once before. you felt more like a villain. someone who was ruining everybody’s day by just being present.

you weren’t scared of dying anymore, you were scared of living and continuing to suffer the way you were.

so, when you laid in the hospital bed, surrounded by all your loved ones. you felt tranquility. it made you happy that you knew none of these people would have to worry about you anymore.

your vision was becoming blurry, you could barely recognise anybody’s faces anymore. you didn’t want to cry, you didn’t want everybody’s last memory of you to be an image of your tear stained face. instead you smiled at them, karl held your left hand and your mother held your right, you squeezed their hands as tightly as you could, telling them how much you loved them.

your grip eventually loosed, as you took your last breath. you were unresponsive, and everybody was looking at nothing but the whites of your eyes.

your funeral hit him even harder.

karl felt so empty inside. all the happiness was drained out of him. he kept trying to tell himself this wasn’t real, and you weren’t gone. but how could he when he was standing right in front of your grave?

he watched your coffin lower down. all attention turned to your mother. as the coffin sunk deeper into the ground, she collapsed onto the floor, an agonising scream erupting from her. people ran to pull her away, but she refused to let them bury you.

karl walked away. he didn’t want to watch this. this isn’t what you would’ve wanted. you wanted nothing but everybody to be happy

but he couldn’t be, not when he was constantly reminded of you every single. those memories were now making him sad. he would drive past target just to be reminded of your late night trips. when he would see your favourite candy he would be reminded of your awful sweet tooth you constantly complained about, and how he would scold you for eating too many.

“but they taste so good!” you would defend yourself. your voice rang in his ears.

in the first two weeks he would cry himself to sleep every day. his pillow was always soaking from the waterfall of tears. he would grab another pillow from the living room, and spray it in your favourite perfume, and would cuddle it, pretending he was cuddling you, all while taking in your scent.

one night, he jolted awake with a gasp. his forehead was covered in beads of sweat and his breath was shaky and uneven. it was a nightmare. they had become much more frequent since your death.

karl reached his arm out to the pillow beside him, looking for some comfort and warmth.

but he forgot you weren’t there anymore.

he wished that you would just materialise from beneath his fingers and hold his hand. he wished to have you here and have you run your hands through his hair and shush him back to sleep.

karl swallowed the lump in his throat, forcing himself to close his eyes and fall back asleep.

he didn’t like socialising with others now.

yes, he loved his friends, he wouldn’t give them up for the world. he felt so helpless when they saw him. they all gave him this identical look filled with pity. whenever they saw him and they’d always ask him ‘how are you feeling today?’

he was so sick of that question.

when he logged on discord with the boys, they treated him differently, like he was glass, and was about to shatter any moment.

he hated feeling so weak.

in the third week, his family suggested talking to your family. maybe they both could slowly heal by talking about the positive aspects of your life.

he despised the idea at first, but after coming round to your old house, sitting down and talking to your parents. he found himself smiling for the first time in ages, as he ran his fingers over a baby picture of you.

visits to your parents became much more regular, they were much closer. karl felt a sense of pride, because he knew it’s what you would’ve wanted.

four weeks. one month. time was passing by slowly but thankfully it was giving him time to grieve, and time to reflect. he felt like the hole in his heart was very slowly starting to repair itself

music was playing from his phone on spotify, karl was boiling a pot of water for his pasta. when it was hot enough, he threw in his pasta and let it cook. karl sat down and started scrolling through instagram, the music still playing.

he lightly chuckled at a funny meme he read. he went to send it to alex.

the grin on his face disappeared when he realised his finger was hovering over your username.

he wished he could send it to you. his mind started drifting to you all over again.

when the pasta was finally done. karl felt his stomach rumble and he was glad he would finally get some food in his system. he prepared the table, and poured a glass of juice for himself too.

the music changed to one of his favourite songs, he started singing along to it, his body swaying slightly as he turned around with the pot to pour it onto the plate, ready to eat it. only then did he realise his mistake.

he set out two plates.

two forks.

two glasses.

one for him.

and for you

karl gnawed at his lip. he stared at the second set of cutlery like it was an intruder. his lips started to tremble, and without realising, he dropped the pot.

the loud clash against the tile floor brought him back to reality. immediately, he bent down to pick up his mess, but it was all pushing him over the edge.

this was his breaking point

he angrily threw the pot back onto the floor, while the most gut-wrenching scream left his body.

he rested against the door of the oven, his head leaned uncomfortably against the handle. sobs ripped from his throat. his voice was starting to feel scratchy. karl rocked back and forth, his head banging the handle each time, causing his head to get dizzier and dizzier until he almost felt nauseous.

his hands were tugging at his hair as he buried his face into his knees. he knew he had lost control of himself. another wave of tears emerged.

he tried to calm himself, he tried to steady himself. karl was mumbling out loud as his body was quaking, but every few seconds it would be interrupted by a few guttural sounds. sounds of pain and anguish melded together.

“why would you leave me?” he cried, his voice breaking.

karl wasn’t healing like he thought.

you were the other half that made him whole.

and you were mercilessly ripped away from him

he just didn’t know how he could go on living without you.

———

masterlist

#mcyt #mcyt x reader #karl jacobs #karl jacobs imagine #karl jacobs x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt imagines #karl jacobs imagines #angst #karl jacobs angst

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biggest-stupidhead · 3 years

Note

hello love! can i request erwin x fem reader smut where they're quite the opposite, and after a mission they're tired and just fuck (maybe in the woods or something) because they're so stressed but also because they've been wanting to do it long before? like everyone feels the tension between them except they don't wanted to admit it? thanks! i love your blog. 🥺✨

Hey babes, of course! Thanks for sending this one in, I love writing for Levi but I need to switch it up sometimes lol.

Warnings: lowkey hatefucking, intercourse obvi, fucking in da woods, wrap it before u tap it!, unprotected sex.

Summary: Erwin is selfish, but it’s okay because you are too.

Word Count: 2.4K

Your breathing was uneven as you hunched over, chest rising erratically. Your blades were dull and gas was running low, you tapped on the cans ruefully, the dull din signaling how empty the canisters truly were. You were just starting to regain your senses when the sound of hoofbeats startled you. Hange tugged the reins of her horse, the beast turned its head and bared its teeth when she pulled so harshly on the bit.

“Excellent work! That was a clean cut.” Hange complimented as she smiled wryly down at you. You nodded and lifted your fingers to your lips and whistled for your own mount.

“Thanks, it was a big one too. I’ll have to find the supply wagons though, gas is almost gone.” You said as you tossed the dulled blades off to the side and slide the handles of the gear back into the scabbards.

“Ah you’ll have to work on that.” Hange said, her head swiveling to keep watch while you waited for your horse to return. A few moments passed before the sound of your horse trampling through the foliage alerted of its return. You caught it by the reins and threw yourself onto its back.

“Let’s return to the formation then.” Hange said, once again roughly jerking her horse into the right direction, you close on her heels. The two of you rode through the trees at break neck speed, trying to make up for lost time. You finally managed to make out the sight of Erwin and Levi, their own steeds galloping back in the direction of the wall.

“What’s going on!? I haven’t caught my titan yet!” Hange wailed when you reunited with the other pair.

“Too many casualties.” Levi quipped, expression sour and hands bloodied. You rolled your eyes and clutched the reins harder.

“We just need a few more minutes, let’s not call it off yet.” You insisted and Hange exclaimed excitedly at the shared sentiment.

“Won’t be possible, we can’t risk loosing more lives. There’s been enough bloodshed for one day.” Erwin’s voice was tense and his blue eyes were icy as he shot you and Hange down.

“I don’t see why it matters, if we already have lost most of our men...why not push onwards?” You weren’t sure if you really felt that way, or if you were looking for a fight. You were well aware of how Levi felt about losing his men, and how little Erwin truly cared about loosing lives. You knew that was what separated the two of them, Erwin only cared for his own selfish goals, although he hid it well. Levi on the other hand truly cared for the soldiers, and wanted victory for humanity.

“Shut your filthy fucking mouth.” Levi hissed, gunmetal eyes dark and jaw tense as he bit back his words, waiting for Erwin to tell you off.

“We simply don’t have the means at this time.” Erwin said simply, eyes trained forward. You glowered at him, you couldn’t deny that you held some malice towards him, for his seeming lack of empathy towards his men. But could you blame him? You had joined the scouts for your own selfish desires as well, he just had the power to ensure that his desires were acted upon.

“Very well.” You growled, leaning into your horse’s neck as the four of you picked up the pace. Erwin lifted a flare gun and fired the signal into the air for retreat.

The march into the gates and through Shiganshina was brutal as always. The citizens murmured of their wasted tax dollars and the waste of human life. You silently agreed with them, glaring at the back of Erwin’s perfect blonde head. You wanted nothing more than to scream at him, maybe even slap him, then you’d fuck- wait no. Not that last part, you shook your head in an attempt to rid the vulgar thoughts from your mind.

The castle was notably vacant when you arrived. Having lost so many men, the grounds were less busy than usual. You wandered around, having already put your horse away and assisted with the unloading of the excess supplies. You were grateful for the summer breeze, the last rays of light poking through the trees. You wandered off towards the thicket of trees that rested between the castle and the mountain range beyond.

The sounds of the forest seeped into your bones and reminded you of your home, your family, why you had originally agreed to this regiment. You were so caught up in your own thoughts, you almost didn’t hear the twig snapping off to your right. You whipped your head towards the noise, catching the flash of blonde hair and a stark white dress shirt.

“Following me?” You growled, turning to face him fully, Erwin’s cold blue eyes shone in the dim light.

“To an extent.” He shrugged nonchalantly and you bristled at the admission.

“Come to ravage me?” You pushed, wanting a reaction from the usually stoic man.

“Not exactly.”

“Then what? You men are simple creatures after all, only so many motives behind your dull eyes.” You bit, unable to keep the frustrations from your tone. Erwin’s thick brows pinched together at your words.

“I came to tell you that....I want you to be a squad leader.” Erwin’s jaw ticked as he waited for your response. You let out a scoff of disbelief, eyes shining with mirth.

“Why? Because I showed a fraction of the coldness that you display?” You hissed, marching across the small amount of space between you and attempted to get in his face. Although it was difficult seeing as how tall he stood.

“Precisely.” Erwin’s voice was a bit airy, eyes now seeming to shine with something besides the cunning that usually resided in them. You narrowed your own eyes and let loose a growl fisting the front of his shirt as you considered your options.

If you accepted the position, you would be no better than him. But then again were you really any better in the first place?

“I’ll do it.” You released him and took a step back, determination gleaming in your eyes.

“I knew that you would.” He smirked, lips curling into an annoying grin, making your stomach flip.

“Could this not have waited until morning?” You asked, eyes drifting to the last glimmers of sunlight that spotted the forest floor.

“I suppose it could have...but I wanted to see you before then.” You wrinkled your nose in disgust, earlier suspicions proving true.

“Oh really?” You huffed with a dramatic roll of your eyes. Erwin’s expression darkened, and he took. a step forward, invading your space. You stood as tall as you possibly could, not wanting to let on how nervous you really felt in his suffocating presence.

“I wanted to ask you...why you are so bent on challenging my authority.” It wasn’t a question, more of a statement, putting you on the ropes. You glowered at him, his chest bumping yours, prompting you to take a few healthy steps back. Which you did, until your back met the rough bark of an oak tree.

“Why should I listen to someone who holds no regard to human life?” You snarled in response, but it felt more like a yelp, your heartbeat picked up as his hand gripped the tree, trapping you between his towering figure and the large tree.

“I can’t help but wonder if it could have something to do with the way you stare at me….” His breath tickled your face as he craned his head down, your cheeks lit up as you blushed.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You denied, although it was true, you had developed a bad habit of seeking out his form in the dining hall. Watching him too closely during meetings. He was attractive, that was an undeniable fact, but the resentment that you held for him had always prevented you from seeking out anything more than the professional relationship that had been established.

“I know you do, I’ll only offer this once and never again. I’ve had this on my mind for a while now, if you aren’t interested then we can pretend that this never happened.” He paused, gauging your reaction as you looked up at him in shock.

“I want to fuck you. Right here.” He pointed his finger towards the ground and his eyes flashed with an animosity you’d never seen before.

“H-Here?” You stammered, unsure of what to think, but the ache between your thighs was quickly overcoming your senses.

“Yes.” His other hand slid up your side and rested over the strap of your gear over your breasts.

“What will it be then squad leader?” He hummed as he toyed with the buckle. You swallowed thickly but managed to nod curtly, not wanting to verbally admit your attraction to your commander.

“Use your words.” He ordered, tugging harshly on the strap, pulling you flush against his chest. You gasped, head tilting up to meet his cold gaze.

“I….want you to fuck me commander.” You grew more confident with each word, and you could see the pleased smirk curling over Erwin’s features.

“Glad we finally agree on something.” He huffed, fingers easily unbuckling the strap and then deftly unbuttoning your blouse. As he did so he walked you back against the tree, he left your shirt on, instead favoring unbuttoning your trousers. You gripped his jacket as he slid his hand down to cup your pussy. He chuckled at how wet you were, his large fingers gathering your slickness before slipping into you. You let out another gasp and pushed his jacket off of his shoulders, he withdrew from you to help you undress him as well. You only got to undo his pants before he pressed his lips to yours, tongue pushing past your lips.

He leaned down and scooped you up, hands supporting the backs of your thighs as he used the tree to keep you steady. Your head hit the tree roughly as he continued to attack your mouth, you could do nothing but open your mouth to meet his lips. He slid one of his hands up and gripped the waistband of your pants, pulling them just below your knees, it was a bit of a struggle due to the position he had you in. But you got there eventually. The air felt cool against your exposed sex, and you found yourself blushing crimson as he pressed you harder into the tree so that he could free his cock. You bit your lip in anticipation as he finally managed to pull himself free of his pants.

He pulled away from your lips, eyes lidded and clearly focused on lining himself up to your entrance. You hissed when the head of his cock slid effortlessly along the length of your pussy. Finally he pressed the tip inside of you, pausing as he shifted to grip both of your thighs and gain better leverage.

“Erwin please.” You whimpered, rocking your hips in an attempt to get him to fully sheath himself.

“Beg for it.” He hissed, breath hot against the shell of your ear before his tongue darted out and licked a stripe up the side of your neck.

“I-I need you so bad, please I need you to fuck me.” Your hands clawed at his shoulders as you used your core to keep yourself upright and legs spread for him.

“Good girl.” He growled, finally snapping his hips and sheathing himself in one thrust. You groaned at the fullness, walls stretching to accommodate his size. His own breathing seemed to grow more erratic as he began to rock his hips back and forth. Your back burned from the friction of rubbing against the tree behind you. There was no doubt about you having some kind of scratch in the morning.

You threw your head back against the trunk of the tree as he picked up the speed, hands roaming up from your thighs to your ass, you clenched your legs to wrap around his waist. Your muscles burned but the coil that was building in your stomach kept you motivated, wanting nothing more than to cum over his cock.

He grunted as you twitched around him, his hips somehow seemed to gain more speed, nose burying between the space between your neck and shoulder. You felt him leave a wet kiss there before sucking harshly on the skin. You tilted your head in the opposite direction, giving him more room as he lapped his tongue along the newly exposed skin.

“E-Erwin I think that-”

“Wait.” He snarled against your throat, biting it a bit roughly, you moaned wantonly at the action and dug your heels into the small of his back. His cock stroked along the rigid spot inside of you and you nearly screamed, barely containing your orgasm as he had asked you to. He struck that spot relentlessly, hips meeting yours harshly as he pounded into you.

“Just like that.” He groaned as he pushed you flat against the tree, using all of his strength to keep you there as he drove into you.

“Please Erwin let me cum.” You sobbed as he bit your collarbone, his dick twitched inside of you at your plea, he pulled back, icy eyes locked on your wrecked face as tears rolled down your cheeks.

“Only since you’ve been such a good girl.” He growled, and reached down between your legs, you tightened your grip on his shoulders to make up for the lost support as he pressed his calloused finger to your throbbing clit and rubbed tight circles. Your legs twitched as you felt the coil snap and your cunt clamped down around his dick. He hissed at the sudden tightness and groaned as he came as well. You felt the warmth trickle out of you as he pulled away. He held you up as you shook, coming down from the high he had given you.

“See what we can do when we work together?” He chuckled darkly, hand toying with your bra as you clung to his neck.

“Keep dreaming eyebrows.” You huffed, pulling away from him and shakily pulling your pants up. He tucked himself back into his pants and picked up his jacket from the forest floor.

“See me in my office tomorrow and we will discuss your promotion.” He called after you as you marched back towards HQ, cheeks burning from the interaction you’d just had with your commander. You threw your hand up dismissively, trying to ignore the dark chuckle he let out when he saw how flustered you were.

Maybe he wasn’t all that bad after all….

221 notes · View notes

hxseok-honee · 3 years

Text

3005 || part 3

3005 [part 3] || “sound good, Princess?"

[no matter what you say and what you do // when i’m alone, i’d rather be with you]

previous || masterlist || next

a/n : I AM SUFFERING I HAVE MADE M I S T A K E S

taglist [open] :

@deepseavibez @lele-bb @monamone @unadulteratedlyunique @bluefaeriefury @hooniepie @loveyoongles @lilacdreams-00 @ramyagovindraj @skyrro @diminieshoe @calling-dips-on-j-hope @yuusilverscar @butterflylion @dingzerenistall @miki-chi @army-moa75 @drpepperobsessed @cecedrake2217 @somelazysundays @xxxanimangxxx @cosmicdaylight @navybluewonderland @itismochirice @dreadity @secretlycrazyhummingbird @taeshuworld @lochness-butmakeitsexy

_____________________________________

When Y/n steps into the forest clearing the next day, she finds that Hoseok’s not alone. There, seated on the large tree trunk near the cauldron where he stands, is her new acquaintance. Yoongi’s eyes flick up from the book he’s reading when he notices movement, Hoseok still having not seen her since his back is turned. Yoongi clears his throat to alert his boyfriend, but there’s a few seconds before he does so. He first takes his time holding eye contact with her, and she can see, even with a book in the way, that there’s a smirk playing on the edges of his lips. And then he’s blinking, returning his gaze to the page before him as he clears his throat.

Hoseok glances up from where he’s carefully filling vials of wolfsbane potion, glancing over his shoulder when Yoongi tilts his chin up, gesturing in Y/n’s direction with his head without ever moving his eyes from the page. Hoseok spins on his heel smoothly, grinning easily at Y/n.

“Princess! So kind of you to join us.” Even though she’s looking at Hoseok -- not really looking him in the eye, but still looking at him -- she sees Yoongi lift his head, and she wonders what he’s thinking about the nickname his own boyfriend’s given her. As if reading her mind, his opens his mouth, breathing out a laugh before he speaks.

“‘Princess’, huh? I wasn’t aware you were Cinderella -- you know, since you like pumpkins so much.” Yoongi meets her eyes again, that little smirk returning when she instinctively squints, glaring at him.

“I told you I hadn’t thought about the fact that they use the pumpkins for the food--”

“I’m just saying, I was wondering why the pieces of pumpkin in the soup the other day were so soft--”

“That’s not how that works!” Yoongi’s smirk widens, her reaction pleasing him endlessly. Hoseok only looks between them, eyes wide.

“Uh… do you two need a minute? Because I have no idea what’s going on here.” Yoongi breaks eye contact then, returning to his book.

“Your little wolf’s fond of Hagrid’s pumpkin patch.” Y/n flushes angrily, thrown both by the fact that he’d just referred to her as Hoseok’s little wolf and that he hadn’t even come close to properly explaining the situation.

“Okay, well your little boyfriend interrupted me in the midst of an existential crisis, which, frankly, is just rude.” Hoseok had been looking at Yoongi, also surprised at the name he’d given her, but he whirls around then, eyebrows hidden under his hair as he stares at her in shock. Yoongi also looks up, decidedly shutting his book and setting it down beside him before crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh, so that’s what you were doing! I wasn’t sure if that was just part of your regular lunchtime routine, or…” Y/n huffs loudly, and she feels herself growing frustrated by the obvious enjoyment Yoongi’s getting out of teasing her. But Hoseok’s reaction to their conversation surprises her enough to halt any irritation she would have felt.

“Okay -- you two are acting really weird… I mean, I can’t say much about Y/n since, apparently, she hates me enough to never talk to me, but Yoongi…” He looks his boyfriend over with surprise, causing Yoongi to deflate slightly after a moment. He uncrosses his arms, setting his hands in his lap as he shrinks shyly under Hoseok’s gaze. But it’s the way Yoongi’s ears are turning pink that tips Hoseok off, and he hums knowingly.

“I see--” He turns to Y/n then, the arrogant smirk she’d come to know over the years filling his face. “You’ll have to forgive him, Princess -- my little Prince isn’t the best at making friends.” Yoongi’s blush deepens, and he digs the toe of his converse sneakers into the dirt below him stubbornly. This is not the same Yoongi that had just derived joy from teasing Y/n, and she’s very surprised to see how quickly he changed. Glancing at Hoseok, she finds that he’s got his eyes on Yoongi, fondness dancing in his gaze as he smirks at his boyfriend. She decides then that their dynamic confuses her, but then she remembers what Hoseok had said.

“I don’t hate you…” Hoseok turns, eyes genuinely surprised that she hadn’t let the comment pass. Y/n only makes brief eye contact before looking away, never having been able to properly meet Jung Hoseok’s intense gaze for very long. “I don’t hate you.” She’d wanted to explain why she’s so shy around him -- that he intimidates her, probably without meaning to -- but she’d only repeated herself, unable to find any other words. She hears Hoseok snicker, and when she looks up, he’s got his back to her again, having returned to his potion.

“Well, that’s certainly nice to know. Maybe I should only give you one vial at a time -- then you’ll have to keep finding me every day, and I can finally get to know you.” There’s a pause, one where Y/n isn’t sure how to respond, but it ends when Hoseok glances over his shoulder at her with a toothy grin.

“I’m just fucking with you. I wouldn’t hold out on you like that.” He turns, holding a small container, one that she’s very familiar with. She steps further into the clearing, approaching the pair, head bent as she pretends to watch where she’s walking on the uneven ground -- a habit formed over the years so she doesn’t have to look Hoseok in the eye.

She stops when the little wooden box comes into view, and he hands it to her. But when she moves to pull away, he doesn’t let go, holding her there with the grip of his hand on the box of her vials. She looks up in surprise then, finally meeting his eyes without even thinking about it. She finds that Hoseok’s smirking, as usual, but it widens when she looks at him.

“There she is.” It’s whispered, and he doesn’t take his eyes off of her for a second while he says it, causing her breath to catch in her throat from the sheer effect of his overwhelming presence. She feels trapped by him, prey being mocked by that smirk.

Her eyes flick over to Yoongi, expecting to see some kind of reaction at her proximity to his boyfriend -- annoyance or irritation maybe -- but she finds that he’s only regarding Hoseok with eyes filled with intrigue. A thought seems to have crossed his mind when Hoseok had acted, because Yoongi’s examining his boyfriend with a raised eyebrow, like he knows something she doesn’t. And when he finally glances at her, it seems the shy Yoongi that Hoseok had dragged out has disappeared again, leaving a new Yoongi who only looks her over with surprised interest.

She doesn’t even realize Hoseok’s released her vials, too stunned by the suddenness of the moment. When she looks down and sees that she’s the only one holding the box, she’s still not processing it, so she stays close to Hoseok -- much closer than she’d ever been before in the 4 years she’d known him. He’s warm, she notes -- his body heat is as overwhelming as his gaze, passing over her in waves as a reminder that he’s there while she stares down at the box, eyes wide.

She also notes that, while Jungkook is much the same, warmer than most due simply to an internal adjustment made to his body after becoming an animagus so young, this is not the same. Where she’d always found her brother obnoxiously warm and only tolerable on the coldest of nights, Hoseok’s warmth is surprisingly pleasant -- nothing more than a reminder that he’s there, living and breathing beside her. It’s oddly comforting to know that the cold, offputting boy she’d come to know is warm in some ways.

The moment comes crashing to an end with the sound of footsteps in the distance, realization hitting Y/n like a truck when she thinks of what this situation could seem like to someone else. Stumbling backwards until she’s about as far away from Hoseok as she’d been from the start, she barely even hears footsteps falling into line beside her, her heart still pounding in her ears.

“Oh, hey!” Glancing up at the sudden voice, her heart flies into her throat when she realizes it’s Remus that’s right beside her.

Am I just gonna have a heart attack here? This is how I die, is that it?

She can’t even manage to smile at Remus, too flustered by the entire situation. She only glances over at James and Sirius, who have come along to keep Remus company. They wave, smiling knowingly at the blush on her face -- on the tree trunk not far away, Yoongi smirks, knowing they aren’t aware of the whole truth of Y/n’s current state.

“Hey, Hoseok! Sorry again for having to cancel on you last night -- we, uh--” Remus hasn’t noticed Y/n’s frazzled existence, addressing Hoseok like nothing’s off about the situation. He points between himself and his friends, looking sheepish. “We got evening detention, so…”

Y/n chances a look at Hoseok then, seeing that he seems to have forgotten the entire moment with her, smiling politely at the Marauders while turning to grab Remus’ doses.

“Don’t worry about it, man. This one told me that his friend Jungkook had gotten into trouble, so I figured you might be in the same boat.” Hoseok nods over to Yoongi when he says ‘this one’, and the boys seem to only notice then that Yoongi’s there.

“Yoongi! It’s good to see you, man -- I feel like whenever we find Jungkook during lunch, you’re missing from the group.” James approaches the seated boy, clapping him on the back good-naturedly. Yoongi only nods, an easy smile coming to his features. He looks mildly uncomfortable, but it’s clear he and the Gryffindors are familiar with one another, and Y/n wonders briefly what Yoongi’s like as he gets to know someone.

She doesn’t even see that he’s meeting her eyes curiously until he responds, his voice bringing her back to reality. She watches as he doesn’t look away, eyes locked on hers as he speaks, that infuriating smirk making another appearance.

“Yeah, sorry about that -- I’m usually busy during lunch.” Y/n’s mind flashes to when she’d accused Yoongi of interrupting her existential crisis during lunch, not ten minutes prior. She flushes, that annoying pounding of her heart growing when she sees that the comment is lost on James, his words meant strictly for her. Remus shifts next to her, and when she glances up, she sees that he’d noticed the moment, looking between her and Yoongi with curiosity. He clears his throat, shooting her a quick grin as he addresses Hoseok again.

“Well, I’m glad I ran into this one at breakfast today and heard you guys were meeting now -- I’d hate to take more time out of your schedule.” Remus reaches out, brushing his fingers along the inside of her wrist when he calls her ‘this one’, referencing Hoseok’s previous comment about Yoongi jokingly. Y/n’s eyes widen as she glances down at her wrist, watching as Remus’ fingers slide off of her skin before returning to his side, where he lets his arm hang.

She glances away quickly, trying not to make a big deal of the gesture, and she ends up catching Hoseok’s expression as her eyes pass over him. Remus had meant the comment innocently, of course, but the look in Hoseok’s eyes -- cold, hardened eyes that gaze emotionlessly at the spot where she and Remus had just made contact before flicking up to meet Remus’ eyes -- tells her that maybe he doesn’t like that she’s being referred to in the same way Hoseok had referred to Yoongi.

She’s not sure why -- a personal association to the words, an inside joke between the boyfriends, perhaps -- but Hoseok’s teeth are clenched, his jaw locking and unlocking as he smiles in response, and it sets her skin on fire. He’s not even looking at her, gaze trained evenly on Remus, but she feels the heat of his glare, very different from the heat she’d felt radiating off of him earlier.

“It’s no problem -- I’d have been happy to reschedule.” The words are understanding, but there’s an edge to them, the tone in his voice razor sharp. Y/n glances up at Remus and finds that he’s already looking down at her, his eyebrows raised as he looks at her knowingly.

“I get the Look all the time… just me though…”

Y/n blinks, confused as she remembers what he’d said to her yesterday. She looks to Hoseok, but when he flicks his eyes over to her, his gaze softens, and he looks away and scratches at his neck awkwardly. Behind him, Yoongi is looking at the back of his boyfriend’s head, eyes curious as he glances between Hoseok and Remus. His expression is fairly even, but Y/n can see that he’s been making silent observations when he finally smiles to himself and lowers his gaze to his lap, twiddling his thumbs as he thinks.

Hoseok moves to hand the box of vials to Remus after a moment, still slightly awkward from his obvious display of annoyance as he approaches them. When he passes the doses to Remus, he takes a moment to glance at Y/n, eventually reaching over to tap a single finger on the top of her own container.

“Don’t let me find out you aren’t taking these with food like last year -- sound good, Princess?” Y/n inhales sharply, only having heard the name when they’re relatively alone. Remus’ jaw drops, accompanied by James choking on his own spit and Sirius making some kind of strangled noise behind his hand. She looks past Hoseok to see Yoongi smiling widely, eyes dancing with amusement.

Nodding quickly, Y/n lowers her gaze and turns, pushing past Remus as she heads for the path back to the castle. Remus follows, stunned, and James hops off of his seat, not even bothering to wave at Yoongi as he and Sirius take off after Y/n, their teasing voices ringing out through the forest as they go.

Hoseok watches them leave, Yoongi only watching Hoseok. Finally, the boy on the tree trunk hums, eyes trained on the side of his boyfriend’s face as he speaks.

“So… She’s interesting.” Hoseok doesn’t take his eyes off of Y/n’s back, shrinking in the distance as she and the Marauders walk back to the castle. He swallows hard, sighing softly before responding.

“She’s certainly something.”

#bts au #bts smau #bts social media au #bts hogwarts au #jung hoseok #min yoongi #hoseok x reader #yoongi x reader #bts poly au

192 notes · View notes

keijiluvr · 3 years

Text

JUST SOME BOY

Pairings: Atsumu x Reader

Warnings: Implication of cheating, angst

NOTE: this is my first time writing about hq boys so i’m sorry if it might be ooc :( also pls be nice about this, i know it sucks but anyway here you go!

Part 2

Being in a relationship with Atsumu for more than a year now really has been wonderful for you. You felt happy, comfortable and content with him. You make each other happy as giggles and laughter would leave your lips, pulling the other’s body closer to them. Affection wasn’t really an issue as kissing has been normal for the both of you. Subtle hand holding and nuzzling against the other’s neck has been a routine most of the time, eager to just feel the touch of the other. Mornings filled with soft smiles, brushing the other’s hair and leave kisses all over their face.

Both of you know each other like the back of your hands, being able to know if something’s troubling the other and be able to talk about it and work things out. You were able to support him throughout his struggles especially with volleyball and he’s always there to listen whenever something’s bothering you. It was safe to say that you can imagine yourself staying in this so called fairytale for a very long time.

But it didn’t last that long.

It started two weeks ago. That gut feeling that something’s wrong, screaming and begging at you to listen. No matter what you do, it wouldn’t disappear as it clawed its way up to your mind, disturbing your thoughts as it pushed it to the back of your mind and let itself stay inside your head for a while. It’s been bothering you for days. You thought it was just you being paranoid or a common feeling of nervousness but why would you feel like that?

“Tsum?”

“Sorry, Coach told me to stay behind to practice more on.”

You brushed it off, it didn’t really matter to you as long as he got home safely and that he’s okay. This would happen sometimes and you’re always waiting for him in the apartment, ready to reassure and relieve some stress with him. You’ve been his anchor, always keeping everything grounded and steady and he liked it. How come things started changing?

However, the constant late night practices started happening frequently as excuses kept on piling up.

“We have an important match coming up. I really have to practice.”

“Bokuto-san wanted to practice more on his spikes, he needed me.”

“The team stayed a bit longer to practice some more.”

That’s when that gut feeling kept nagging at you, resulting in countless negative thoughts running around your mind while you stay in your shared bedroom, alone and awake as the night settled in. Did something go wrong? Did you do something? But then you would feel foolish for having that kind of thoughts. You would reassure yourself, repeating a mantra in your head that everything’s fine, he just needs time to practice.

It was like a constant play of a broken record inside your head, not letting the fear eat you whole. It was scary, frightening even but you should trust him, you do trust him.

So you lived as if you have nothing to worry about, understanding that he has to prioritize his career first and that everything will go back to normal soon. He’d start coming home early after the match, you’d feel his skin on yours, the apartment would be filled with laughter and new memories. You hoped it would be like that soon.

It felt weird, today feels weird for you. It wasn’t that good kind of weird, it was the opposite. Your hands felt clammy, your heartbeat setting an uneven pace and this gut feeling, the familiar gut feeling but much more intense than before. It felt as if something bad is supposed to happen today, as if your body is sending alarming bells to you, trying to warn you about the possible future events that may occur today, that you need to prepare yourself for something.

But what could it be?

Going back to reading the text messages you sent to your boyfriend, you felt anxious. Why would he leave you on read? Did something bad happen during their practice today? That might not be the case since someone from the team would’ve called you right away if something happened. You felt silly, crazy even due to how paranoid you are. Who could blame you though? It’s been hours and he hasn’t even thought of replying to your texts.

You’ve thought about so many possible scenarios, even reaching the point of something happening to the gym. Hell, enough scenarios just to put your mind on edge that causes your legs to shake due to nervousness.

Reaching for your phone quickly, you inserted the passcode as soon as you heard the familiar ding coming from your phone.

You bit your lower lip, forcing yourself not to let out a sigh, to show your disappointment. What did you expect though? No matter how hard you try, nothing will change. He prioritizes volleyball over anything. If it’s practice, it’s practice. You should know that by now as you were always there for him, supporting him and cheering him on as he does the thing that he loves. But why can’t you ignore this gut feeling? That same gut feeling that’s been desperate to grab your attention, to make you listen that something is obviously wrong.

Maybe it’s telling you that an accident might happen so without giving it a second thought, you decided to text the person who you’ve been friends with for a while just to check up on Atsumu.

You were in a state of shock, completely still as you read the message over and over again. Your grip on your phone tightening its hold as your chest felt heavy. Blinking, you haven’t even noticed the tears as they fell, landing on the sheets below you. Your mind whirling with endless amounts of negative scenarios, a bunch of what ifs making your heart ache more.

But this isn’t the time to mope around and drown in negative scenarios. You need answers, you need to hear the truth and you know the person that can answer every question that you have.

Atsumu realized that he came home late once again, letting out a sigh as he shut the front door behind him, trying to be quiet as possible too since he noticed how the lights are turned off indicating that you might have fallen asleep. Biting his lower lip, he was on his way to the kitchen to grab something to eat when he noticed someone sitting on the couch.

“Y/N? You almost gave me a heart attack.” He let out a chuckle, sauntering over to you but felt himself stiffen.

There you were, hugging your knees close to your chest. Teary-eyed, you looked up at him, “Where were you, Atsumu?”

“What? I was at practice like everyday.”

“Don’t lie to me, please.” The way you begged, desperate to know the truth even if it will hurt, even if it will break you. It would be better to know the truth rather than pretending to be living in a healthy and stable relationship with someone you once knew.

As he stood there, you couldn’t even recognize him anymore. Nothing changed with his physical appearance but it felt like you were talking to a stranger, to someone you barely even know anymore. Your chest tightening as your eyes welling with tears. “Please.” You sobbed

Holding out his hand, he tried to wipe your tears away. However, you turned your head to the side, not wanting to feel his touch, knowing you’d crumble more in his grasp. Instead, the hand was left hanging in the air as you avoided his gaze, wiping your own tears. Defeated, he sat beside you, watching you carefully. “Did someone tell you?” His voice small.

You let out a humorless chuckle, wiping your fingers to your shirt as you faced him. “Someone told me some things. You weren’t staying at the gym to practice more, Atsumu. He told me how you would always be the first one to leave practice, always in a hurry yet you always come home late.” You whispered the last few words, voice cracking before clearing your throat.

Pathetic, you felt pathetic. As the warning bells continued to ring inside your head, you couldn’t help but cling onto one positive thought that maybe, maybe he’s working on something for days and wouldn’t tell anyone. That maybe he was just busy and didn’t think of telling anyone.

But why would he lie to you? Why would he pretend to be at practice?

“I’m sorry.”

“I was planning on telling you but I guess I’ve been a coward for avoiding it. I met someone, Y/N. She makes me happy. I’m sorry you had to find out like this.”

That part of you that has been trying to give you hope started diminishing at his response. That small part of you that was believing and trusting him, the one that you held onto so so so tightly disappeared, leaving you falling into the void. The fact that all of the effort and progress that you’ve been trying to do lately came crashing down onto you, pushing you further into the darkness.

It triggered you. His words triggered something beneath you. I was planning on telling you. I’m sorry you had to find out like this.

Is he being serious? You felt as if he wasn’t being sincere for his actions, for what he did to you. It felt like it had no effect on him that you found out. If you didn’t find out today, would he still keep on doing it? But what pierced through your heart, what kept repeating in your head was those words. She makes me happy.

Did you fail? Were you not enough? Did you not make him happy?

It felt as if your body moved on its own, standing up abruptly and slapped him across his face. For once, you didn’t regret your actions. He deserved it. Looking down at him, you tried so hard to memorize his face. Before he could utter another word, you were out of his sight.

You clenched your fist, feeling your palm burning as it serves as a reminder that you hit him before running to your room to pack your things.

“It looks like they’re coming back.”

Turning around, you eyed the stadium with a soft, little smile. The banner with his team on it proudly shown as people gather to view the details of the upcoming match. Your gaze landed on his picture, content as you saw how happy he looked especially with his teammates.

That night, it was the last time you saw him. It’s been almost a year now and admittedly, it’s been tough to get back on your feet but you’re almost there. Your heart might still long for him, it might still ache since there are days that the pain becomes unbearable but you’re thankful for the people around you that have been patient enough to guide you back to your feet.

“Who’s that? It looks like you know him.” Your friend asked, pointing at the guy you’ve been staring at.

“Don’t worry about it, he’s just some boy.”

It might be a long process, the healing but you’re willing to undergo through the long process until you can finally move on from everything without feeling the pain, the ache and the misery. For now, you’re just happy for him for achieving his dreams.

#miya atsumu #atsumu miya #atsumu x reader #atsumu angst #haikyuu!!#haikyu #haikyuu #atsumu x y/n #atsumu scenarios #miya twins #bokuto #koutarou bokuto #kotaro bokuto #haikyuu angst #haikyu angst

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azaisya · 3 years

Text

here the xuexiao snippet from the daemon au i mentioned (rating t, 2.4k words)

Xiao Xingchen was sitting on the ground by the fire, a ratty grey blanket draped over his shoulders and his head bowed as if that would help him see A-Qing’s tunic better. The pads of his fingers fluttered over the cloth, deftly seeking rips and tears so that he could sew them shut. His sewing needle flashed golden in the firelight.

It should’ve been frustrating, watching him work. It was slow and clumsy, and he frequently had to stop and make sure that he was still sewing in the right spot.

It wasn’t frustrating, though. It wasn’t even boring. Xue Yang could watch him for hours, delighting in each tiny, uneven stitch. A-Qing and her dumb daemon were asleep in the house, and so he didn’t even have to deal with her irritating comments or half-pretend that he was doing something other than staring.

This was a picture of Xiao Xingchen that few ever saw: ratty blanket and flickering firelight and soft-edged fondness.

Xue Yang wanted to marinate in it.

A-Mei, lying folded at his feet, huffed into the dirt. He kicked her lazily, and she snapped her teeth at him. She could snap his bones up, if she wanted to. She liked snapping bones, whether they were human or daemon or animal.

Xiao Jia was the exact opposite of her, all white elegance and delicate lines. He was curled up in the shadows beyond the firelight, head resting in the dirt and milky eyes staring into nothingness. He didn’t seem to be paying attention, but he was rarely ever paying attention. He’d been different before, when he’d had his eyes. Xue Yang missed his eyes, sort of. They’d been dark and watchful and so very interested in everything they saw.

Well. That wasn’t quite true. He didn’t miss the eyes, because if Xiao Jia still had his eyes then none of this would be possible. But he missed the daemon’s clever quickness. He was strange and somber, now, and it was rare to see him alert and talkative when he didn’t have the adrenaline of battle to spur him from whatever quiet fugue he normally existed in.

Xue Yang would love nothing more than to dig his hands into that daemon, to find just how deep his scars ran.

Xiao Xingchen let out a sharp ah of air, and the golden needle paused.

“Poke yourself?” Xue Yang asked, grinning his lazy cat-smug grin.

Xiao Xingchen smiled, a touch ruefully. “Just a little.”

Immediately, Xue Yang abandoned his seat, crowding into Xiao Xingchen’s space and grabbing his hands. Xiao Xingchen let him, and Xue Yang grinned even wider. He reveled in Xiao Xingchen’s trust. It made him feel like he was burning. He thought he might explode, when the tension finally built up just so and he could call Xiao Xingchen’s name in his true voice.

Even the thought of his reaction—that perfect face going stark white, those perfect lips parting in shock—was enough to send a delightful shiver down Xue Yang’s spine.

It just wasn’t time yet.

“Ai, Daozhang, what am I supposed to do with you?” he asked, teasing and shameless all at once. Xiao Xingchen had stabbed his index finger, and a tiny bead of blood welled to the surface. It glimmered tantalizingly in the firelight, like a little drop of amber.

Xiao Xingchen’s lips twitched. “I don’t know, what are you?”

Xue Yang beamed. “I’m laughing at you. This is a very important fact that I’m telling you because you can’t see it.”

Xiao Xingchen’s smile transformed into a grin, and a startled laugh escaped his lips. “Ah—”

Lightning quick, Xue Yang darted forwards and sucked the tip of the finger into his mouth. Greedily, eyes locked on Xiao Xingchen’s face, he hollowed his cheeks and swirled his tongue across the pad of his finger. The iron taste of blood bloomed over his tongue, but mostly he just tasted the salt-and-flesh of skin.

An intake of breath slipped through Xiao Xingchen’s lips in a tiny gasp.

Satisfied, Xue Yang sat back and deposited Xiao Xingchen’s hand back into his lap.

Xiao Xingchen just sat there. He didn’t even seem to be breathing, a statue frozen with its lips parted in shock and its spine taut with tension.

Except he wasn’t a statue, of course. The evidence was in the subtle taste still lingering on Xue Yang’s tongue and in the brilliant scarlet spreading across his face, his ears, his neck. He was gloriously, undeniably alive—

And he was all Xue Yang’s.

Xue Yang’s tongue darted out, wetting his lips. He felt like he was about to come apart at the seams. He felt like he was half-awake. He felt immortal. Unable to keep the hitch from his voice, he said, “Better, Daozhang?”

“Ah,” Xiao Xingchen said, voice faint, “Yes.” His fingers twitched towards his needle, still poked through the folds of A-Qing’s tunic, but he didn’t pick it up. He seemed to have lost the ability to function.

Xue Yang leaned back against his elbows, head tilted towards Xiao Xingchen, angling his body to put himself close to Xiao Xingchen’s thigh. He could feel the too-hot heat of the fire against his toes, but it was nothing compared to the warmth emanating from Xiao Xingchen.

Xiao Xingchen let out all of his breath in one, long exhale. And then he shifted, pressing himself entirely into Xue Yang’s side. Xue Yang didn’t move away, and Xiao Xingchen’s lips settled into the tiniest of smiles—his content one, the one that came out when he was warm and happy enough to stop thinking—as he picked up his needle and thread again.

Xue Yang could hardly breathe past the satisfaction beating in his ribs. He’d done this! Him. Not anybody else.

A-Mei sent him a wave of prickly irritation. He responded with a concentrated spike of pure smugness.

Grumbling, she dragged herself to her feet and plodded across the dirt to throw all forty pounds of her body into his stomach.

Xue Yang grunted, knocked breathless by the collision. “Bitch.”

She yowled in his face.

Xiao Xingchen paused, fingers carefully laying the needle down so he didn’t poke himself again. “My friend?”

Xue Yang grimaced. “It’s just the bitch.”

Xiao Xingchen hummed, disapproving in a way that meant I don’t think you should call your other half a bitch and not I don’t like you using that language because I’m a prude. Xue Yang had mistaken it the first few times, but then he’d sworn up a storm when he’d dropped a stack of wood on his toes and Xiao Xingchen had laughed.

Laughed!

A-Mei shoved her head into his stomach and he grunted, irritably lifting a hand to flick her in the nose.

“You’re so strange,” Xiao Xingchen murmured, smile audible in his voice.

Xue Yang pouted adorably at him, and then pouted more when he realized that he wouldn’t be able to see the pout. Oh well. It came through in his voice, probably. “Me?”

Xiao Xingchen laughed. “Both of you. I’ve never met somebody who fought with their daemon.”

Xue Yang shrugged. He wouldn’t really call it fighting. They never fought, not properly. They just had fun together, and that was all. “That’s just how we are,” he said easily, running his fingers through the soft fur on A-Mei’s chest. There were lots of things that were strange about him. A-Mei didn’t even make the top ten. Sure, she didn’t like to talk. But if he had a jaw strong enough to bring down even full-grown deer, he wouldn’t bother talking much either.

He and A-Mei didn’t need to talk, anyways. They understood each other on an instinctual level, one that required no thought and little emotion. They were one, in a way that even most people and their daemons weren’t.

If he was the sort to introspect, he might postulate that it was because he didn’t bother with the trappings and facades that normal people reveled in. He knew himself, in a way that people like Jin Guangyao—with his masks upon masks upon masks—could never. He didn’t let himself be trapped by what he should be or what society thought he was supposed to be. He simply was.

Mildly, he said, “We’re not as strange as you and Xiao Jia.”

The easy contentment didn’t fade from Xiao Xingchen’s face, but his lips twisted ever so slightly down. “I suppose that’s true.”

Xue Yang looked over his shoulder to where Xiao Jia was lying in the darkness. His eyes were closed, as if he was sleeping.

Suddenly, Xiao Xingchen said, “That’s just how we are, too.”

Xue Yang scoffed, but he didn’t say anything. He knew that wasn’t true, but Xiao Xingchen’s dear, harmless friend wouldn’t. He could say something, but what would be the point in ruining a nice night like this?

Xiao Xingchen tilted his face towards the fire. The smile was completely gone now, and he looked all melancholy and somber, like he got on cold nights when the snow buried them inside the little coffin house and he thought everybody else was asleep.

Xue Yang scowled. He didn’t like that expression. That expression meant that Xiao Xingchen was thinking of Song Lan, and fuck Song Lan. Xue Yang had half a mind to run out and find him, just so that he could stab his eyes out for real this time.

Well. Maybe not. Those were Xiao Xingchen’s eyes, and Xiao Xingchen had always had such pretty eyes.

Without a trace of his irritation in his voice, Xue Yang rolled over to pillow his head in Xiao Xingchen’s lap and declared, “Nevermind that. What do I care about strangeness?” He tilted his head up, lips curled into a teasing leer that A-Qing’s stupid daemon would bite him for. “He’s pretty, anyways.”

Xiao Xingchen had gone very still beneath him. But that lost expression was gone, chased away by a blush that flared over his entire face. The daozhang didn’t blush prettily, but that was okay. Xue Yang liked him better this way. “Ah,” he said, faintly.

Xue Yang grinned, thinking that that was the end of that. Xiao Xingchen would call him shameless—not in so many words, of course, because he was polite and flustered—and Xue Yang would tease back before retreating to the other side of the fire, and then they could continue their lovely night without A-Qing or Song Lan’s stupid memory.

Instead, Xiao Xingchen’s fingers alighted on the crown of Xue Yang’s head. Xue Yang’s breath caught in the back of his throat, his muscles seizing up and his heart beating rabbit-quick against his lungs.

Which was silly. He had a knife up his sleeve, and he could bury that in Xiao Xingchen’s heart before the other managed to close his fingers around Xue Yang’s throat.

Xiao Xingchen’s touch was gentle and cool. It fluttered lightly over Xue Yang’s brow before settling in his hair, fingers tangling in the ink-dark strands and stroking as if he were an animal.

Xue Yang should snap at him. He wasn’t an animal, and he wasn’t going to be treated like one.

“Ah,” he said, a meaningless exhalation of air. “Huh.”

Xiao Xingchen’s expression was radiant beneath the blindfold. Also, infuriatingly smug. Xue Yang couldn’t bring himself to care. “I’d return the compliment,” Xiao Xingchen said, sounding just as light and soft and delighted as Xue Yang felt, “but I don’t know what your daemon looks like.”

A-Mei let out a grumble yowl-snarl at that. Her claws dug into Xue Yang’s gut.

Xue Yang heroically resisted the urge to shove her off. She should be grateful.

A thought struck him, and his eyes locked onto Xiao Xingchen’s pleasant expression. “Aww, daozhang,” he said, pitching his voice saccharinely sweet, “Is this just your way of asking to touch my daemon?”

The results were spectacular. Xiao Xingchen’s blush deepened, red crawling down his neck, and his fingers stuttered in Xue Yang’s hair, “I— I wouldn’t presume—”

Xue Yang wanted to press his lips to that blush. He wanted to follow it, to see how far down it went. He wanted to swallow it whole. “No, no, not at all!” he said, grin wide enough that he wouldn’t be surprised if his face split in two. This was their game, after all: Xue Yang pushed and pushed and pushed, and Xiao Xingchen blushed prettily-not-prettily and demurred.

“Ah,” Xiao Xingchen said, that delightful punched-out surprised sound.

Xue Yang loved that sound. It was quite possibly his favorite sound in the whole world. This was quite possibly his favorite game. “This one would be honored if daozhang touched his daemon.”

Except Xiao Xingchen didn’t get flustered. He didn’t back off. He reached out to A-Mei.

Xue Yang’s jaw dropped. He’d expected Xiao Xingchen to balk, to surrender to the courtesy his oh-so-fancy upbringing had imparted to him. He’d forgotten that, sometimes, Xiao Xingchen flipped the game right on its heels.

And, normally, it was fun when Xiao Xingchen surrendered to one of Xue Yang’s shameless whims. It was satisfying, to drag him further down to earth.

But this was—

This was—

A-Mei pressed her snout into Xiao Xingchen’s palm.

Xue Yang died. He was dead! There was no reason for anybody else’s hands to be on his daemon unless he was dying and they were killing him.

His body didn’t seem to care. It went entirely boneless, sagging like a wet rag into Xiao Xingchen’s lap. A-Mei shifted, crawling up Xue Yang’s chest and closer to Xiao Xingchen.

Xiao Xingchen’s touch was just as feather-light as it’d been in Xue Yang’s hair, the pads of his fingers brushing over A-Mei’s eyes, A-Mei’s ears, A-Mei’s back.

It felt like bursts of starfire or summer sun or revelations.

“Ah,” Xue Yang gasped again.

A-Mei hit him with a wall of superior-smug-satisfaction-mine-hah-MINE.

Xue Yang couldn’t care less.

“What is she?” Xiao Xingchen asked, voice hushed with the enormity of the moment.

Xue Yang opened his mouth. Like a cloud passing over the sun, like a sword punching through flesh, reality crept back in.

Would Xiao Xingchen remember her shape? She’d bitten Xiao Jia, once. Would he know the name of what she was? Would he think to make that connection?

Feeling suddenly cold, he sat up. A-Mei flopped onto the ground with an irritated hiss, and Xiao Xingchen made a questioning noise. Xue Yang just laughed. “Something with teeth.”

He could’ve said it with his real voice. He could’ve revealed his soul for what it was.

He didn’t, though.

It wasn’t time.

[the rest of the au]

#xue yang #xiao xingchen #xuexiao #mdzs daemon au #uhhh yeah thats all im gonna tag #ill add my usual fandom and organization tags later #candleswriting #a series of increasingly terrible dinner parties

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t-lostinworlds · 3 years

Note

for the youtube thing can u plese do the mouth to mouth challenge, i really want u to write it cause u r like the best writer ever , way better then me

TH’s YouTube Extras: Mouth to Mouth Challenge

a/n: you are too sweet gosh asdfghjkl thank you angel. i hope you enjoy this lovely! ❤ oh and it’s suggestive in some parts but not much hehe.

☰ youtube channel | recent video

-:-:-:-:-

"Right, mouth to mouth challenge here we go!" Tom rubbed his hands together enthusiastically, gaze set on the camera as a wide grin played on his lips. "We each have to take the opposite sides of the food in our mouths and the first one to do as much as look away, loses the round. The overall loser gets to do a forfeit which will be decided by the boys."

You and Tom were both sitting side by side on the couch and much like before, the camera right in front. Harry was right behind it and this time he was joined by Tuwaine. Harrison was MIA given that he had errands to attend to.

"You seem a bit too excited," you teased.

Tom shrugged, turning to you with that charming grin. "I get to be so close to you and stare into those lovely, beautiful eyes, of course I'm excited."

"As if you don't already do that on a daily," you pointed out, amusement laced in your tone as you shook your head at your man.

"Yeah, I do. But I can never get enough of those gorgeous eyes, darling," he gushed, brown orbs glowing with adoration when it locked with yours, Tom flashing you that bright smile of his you always adore.

You beamed at him with a soft giggle, shaking your head before turning to the camera to shoot it a sympathetic smile. "He's just a walking ball of cheese guys, I apologise," you joked.

"As if she doesn't love it," Tom scoffed with a playful roll of his eyes, giving the camera a look before turning back to you. "Let's get into it shall we?"

"Let's."

Tom held his hand out. "First up," he paused, catching the candy—not so smoothly—that Tuwaine threw and then presenting it towards the camera. "Kit Kat."

"Break it like a sane person, Holland," you warned, Tom's laugh booming soon after your comment.

He knows how to eat a Kit Kat obviously, he does have brain cells. But other times when he feels like being an extra little shit, he breaks the bar the opposite direction on how you're supposed to, leaving you with uneven Kit Kat pieces. It honestly drives you up the wall all the damn time, Tom saying how he finds it so cute how you get riled up by a candy bar, hence why he does it whenever he can. It's one of the many ways he uses to press your buttons, all from love and affection of course.

Placing the tip of Kit Kat between his teeth, Tom leaned back on the couch, arm resting behind you as he shot you a nod. You moved closer, hand rested on his thigh as you took the opposite side. You two moved closer in fits of giggles as you ate the candy little by little, eyes locked securely that it was hard to determine on who would give up first. That until Tom decided to play dirty, literally.

He started groaning and moaning in a hush manner, pretending to enjoy the chocolate a bit too much. But you know what he was trying to do and given the proximity that you two are in, you can hear the sounds he was making very clearly and it was very distracting. It was when he shot you a wink that you pulled away, shaking your head to rid of the heat that coated your face.

Tom ate the rest of the chocolate with a hearty laugh. "I'd win this on a streak," he said smugly.

"Stop making those sounds Thomas," you complained in a whisper, Tom turning his head to look at you, acting all oblivious even though he knows what you meant.

"What sounds?"

You rolled your eyes.

A thought crossed your mind once you saw the next candy that Tuwaine tossed. You hummed to yourself with a nod. If Tom was going to play dirty then, might as well give him a taste of his own medicine.

"Sour belt this time," Tom said, showing the camera the candy over his palm like it's a make-up product. He did the same as before and placed the end of the strip between his lips.

Hand still firmly on his thigh, you started at the bottom since the candy was hanging down Tom's chin, keeping your gaze locked with his. Tom's eyes followed your form as you lowered yourself, orbs looking up at him with that all too familiar gloss. You darted your tongue out to take the candy between your lips before they started to move in a way that made Tom's insides churn. You looked at him through your lashes as you ate the candy inch by inch, giving his thigh a pointed squeeze. Tom choked in a breath at the sight, dropping the belt as he looked away with a low growl before things start to escalate in his head, knowing he can't hide it in his sweatpants.

A cheer erupted out of you as you sat straighter and turned to the camera, candy in mouth with both your hands thrown up in the air. "Point for me!" you laughed once you've eaten all of it.

Tom shook his head, gaze trained on the ground since his cheeks were now coated with a deep shade of red. "Not fair," he grumbled, the hand he had behind you picking at the material of the couch to distract his mind.

"What? I wasn't doing anything wrong," you hummed, tilting your head to the side as you looked at him with a pout.

It was Tom's turn to roll his eyes.

"Okay, last one," Tom said, catching the box of Jaffa cakes easily. He took one out and placed it between his teeth. This time, you had to move even closer to reach him since the length of the cake was much shorter than the previous candies.

As you started to lean in to take the other end, Tom dropped the Jaffa cake at the last minute to give you a loud—and very surprising—peck on your lips. The smack echoed around the room as you stared at him wide-eyed before your brain finally registered what had happened.

"Tom," you whined, dropping your head on his shoulder to hide the embarrassment on your face. Tom lets out a hearty laugh, wrapping his arms around your shoulders with a kiss landing on top of your head.

"She always gets shy whenever I give her random affections in public, or in this case, showing it online," he said towards the camera. "It's so freakin' adorable."

"Such a huge cheeseball," you grumbled before sitting up to meet his eyes. "You dropped the cake so I won. That makes it 2 for 1 so ha! You're doing the forfeit." You stuck your tongue out at him before turning to the camera with a proud glow on your face.

Tom shook his head with an adoring smile as he ogled at you fondly. He loves seeing you win, it's honestly the most endearing thing no matter how little the achievement and it makes him feel like he won himself.

"Totally worth it," Tom chuckled with a shrug.

"Until you see the forfeit," Harry quipped, Tuwaine coming over and handing Tom a glass of a very odd looking liquid.

"Oh no, what's in this?" Tom asked, a sharp grimace coating his face as he took the glass. He gave it a waft, gagging soon after with a look of downright disgust. "Mate, what the fuck is this? You guys trying to kill me or something?"

"It's everything you just ate blended together with a few secret ingredients," Tuwaine laughed.

"Bottoms up, babe," you giggled.

Tom looked at you with a deadpan expression as if to say, "Really?" You only shot him a bright smile, Tom sighing before his gaze landed back on the concoction.

"Can't believe I'm doing this," he muttered, hand coming up to pinch his nose before he threw his head back and took a big gulp. "It's actually not that bad when you get the smell out of the way," he hummed, smacking his lips as he eyed the drink in his hand.

"You are a weirdo," you laughed with a scrunch of your nose.

"I'm your weirdo," he retorted with a smug grin.

"Can we put a cheese counter in the corner of this video?" you joked.

Tom laughed with a shake of his head. "Well, that was very anti-climatic," he paused, showing the camera a peace sign and adding, "See you on the next one guys!"

Harry threw a thumbs-up to signal cut.

Tearing your gaze away from the camera, you turned to your boyfriend just in the nick of time. "Hey!" You snatched the drink away from Tom when he started to bring it up to his lips again. "What on earth are you doing?"

"It's not that bad, love," Tom chuckled.

"Yeah, until you complain about stomach aches and frequent visits to the toilet," you scoffed with a roll of your eyes. Standing up from your seat, you jabbed a finger at Tom. "Brush your teeth. No kisses for you until you do so." You raised a knowing brow at him before making your way to the kitchen to get rid of whatever this liquid is.

"Love you!" Tom called out lovingly, your voice echoing from the kitchen soon after.

"Love you too!"

"Ugh, so much cheese in this house it's starting to smell."

"Harry, you've never sounded more single."

"Fuck off, Tom."

-:-:-:-:-

like, reblog & leave a comment if you enjoyed & lemme know your thoughts! <3

♛ Overall/Everything Taglist: @theunwantedomega @badreputatiom @fallinfortom @disneysamara @avengersficwriter @musicalkeys @apatheticanvas67482 @camimndess @tom-hlover @jjandreidsgirl @blossomparkers @thenoddingbunny-blog @sarcasticallywitty15 @call-me-baby-gir1 @miraclesoflove @tanakaslastbraincell @itstaskeen ♛ Tom H. Taglist: @hollandfanficlove @averyfosterthoughts @2018shawn @darlingspidey @namoreno @spacebitch2 @hollanddolanfangirl @keepingupwiththehollands @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @unbelievableholland @kittenruby @sunkisseddreamer @worldoftom @quaksonhehe @big-galaxy-chaos @clara-licht @dummiesshort @imanativeofswlondondahling @sonofabitchstyles @perspectiveparker @geminiparkers @parker-hollandx @arivera-30 @rebekkah4766 @particularnarry @iwannabekilledtwice @prettyintopeerpressure @fancyxparker @givebuckyhisplumsnow @asoftie4bucky @dandelionxgal @peterspideysstuff @zspideyy @lmaotshollandd @sluttytears ♛ Tom’s YT Shenanigans Taglist: @greatpizzascissorstaco @rosiesimone819 @shawnscxlvins

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland blurb #tom holland one shot #tom holland request #tom holland reader insert #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x youtube #tom holland x female reader #thyt: extras #my writing

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otonymous · 4 years

Text

It’s The End Of The World (MLQC Headcanon)

Dear Nonny...

I say that now, Nonny, but the truth is that the ONLY thing I love more than smut is angst! Mwahahaha! 🤣🤣 That being said, let’s take a one-way trip to Angst Town! Everybody got their seatbelts on?! LET’S GO!!! (Please note warnings below before reading 💕💕💕)

Warnings: angst, explicit language, trigger warnings (mentions of speeding, near-death experiences and flashbacks, nausea & vomiting, insomnia, slight mention of possessive behaviour, workaholism, loss of appetite and weight loss, anger and violent behaviour (not towards other people though!)) and SPOILERS (basically up to chapter 24 in the EN server; includes dates and Rumours & Secrets for the boys)

Gavin:

DEVASTATED. This man is absolutely devastated.

Gavin has known you since high school and loved you since then

You were his dream girl — the one he thought had got away until his duties brought you back into his life. He had vowed to protect you till the very end, had absolutely no qualms about giving his life for yours. He made a solemn promise to himself that he would never lose you a second time

Until that fateful day when you invited him out for lunch at Lynn’s Kitchen on the grounds of your old high school

You order his favourites, spicy noodles and lemon tea; wait until his stomach is full before you open your mouth to gently broach the topic

“Gavin…I…”

A single glance at your face tells Gavin that something is terribly off. He’s immediately setting his chopsticks down, asking, “What’s wrong? You know you can talk to me about anything. Whatever it is, I’ll help you—”

“Shaw. We…we’ve decided to be together. I know you’re not on good terms, and he did insist on coming today, but I thought it would be best if I told you myself…”

He cannot hear

He cannot move

And it isn’t until the burning sensation in his lungs catches up with him that he realizes he hadn’t even been breathing

Amber eyes, listless and dull, float from your lips to the wall decorated with Post-It notes just behind you, moving from one colourful slip of paper to another

“I hate it when people leave without saying goodbye.”

Gavin still remembers the loops and dashes of your handwriting on the Post-It note you had written so long ago, the way you dotted your i’s with hearts

And all of a sudden, he is back in his high school uniform, bloodied and bruised and free falling from the roof of the four-storey building

Except this time, he cannot hear the strains of a piano, no matter how hard he tries. The gingko leaves around him flutter to the ground just before…

“Gavin?” The touch of your hand on his snaps him out of his reverie. He tries to force a smile and fails.

“I…I’m sorry. There’s somewhere…I just remembered…I have to go….” He hurriedly puts a few bills on the table — more than enough to cover the entire meal — and dashes out of the restaurant

Gavin hops on Sparky and just goes…riding for hours on end with no destination in mind. He’s taken with an intense urge to go fast, as if his body were trying to outrun the feelings he doesn’t have the means of dealing with. At one point, an overwhelming wave of nausea hits him and he stops at the side of the road, retching and retching until his stomach is as empty as his hollowed-out heart

He’s still thinking of you the entire time he’s MIA. The last text from his phone is one sent to you, telling you not to worry about him and apologizing for the way he behaved back at the restaurant. He’s asking if you’d still be okay with talking to him when he gets back, and of course, to contact him immediately if you need anything at all

He still feels you in the wind

Believe it or not, for a short period of time, Gavin actually develops a fear of flying: it reminds him too much of you, brings up too many memories of him holding you in his arms as you traverse the skies together. He’s not confident he can do it anymore, partly because he thinks his Evol might suddenly give out when he’s high up in the air

The turning point comes when Gavin visits his mother’s resting place. There, for the first time since you broke the news to him, he actually cries, and it gives him the strength to carry on

Let’s be clear: Gavin will never, ever be over you. The two of you will remain friends though because Gavin intends to watch over you for the rest of his life (that is one promise he would never break)

With time, he gets used to seeing you with Shaw, even starts to relax a bit when he realizes that his younger brother is capable of protecting you

Someday, Gavin will marry — likely someone who was set up with him either by Minor or his colleagues (Birdcop would never take the initiative to actually meet somebody). This person is absolutely smitten with the handsome officer and his gruff ways and cannot wait to start a family with him. They would also have to be thick-skinned and stubborn enough to turn Gavin’s “no” into an eventual “yes”

And while Gavin would prove to be a loyal husband and doting father who would do anything for his family, a part of him would always, always, continue to burn for you.

Lucien:

How do you expect this man to behave when he’s lost the only colour in his life?

Lucien would never, ever recover from this. He doesn’t want to. The man for whom love was never meant to happen has no need for such an emotion. He wants nothing to do with it unless it has to do with you

The professor’s world literally returns to being a drab shadow of blacks and greys — the rainbow disappeared when his little butterfly flew into the palm of another’s hand

“Do you love him?” He’ll ask you, dark eyes almost hypnotic in their intensity when he pierces you with that gaze

You’re ashamed to find that you have to think twice before replying that you do indeed love Victor

Ba-bump, ba-bump, BA-BUMP — Lucien breaks out into a cold sweat as his heart begins to race, face becoming pale as a sheet

His shaking hands are pulled into tight fists within the pockets of his lab coat. He’s running his finger over the cap of his pill bottle inside one of them, not wanting to take them in front of you because in spite of it all, the last thing he wants is for you to worry about him 😭😭😭

Lucien nods, placid smile a mask on his face when he says, “I wish the two of you nothing but the best.”

“Lucien!” You start after him when he turns to walk away. “We…we’re still friends, right?”

For what is possibly the first time in his entire life, Lucien can’t think straight. His mind is a mess, logical thoughts tangled up with sorrow, hurt, anger, and the sense that the world could end at that very moment and he wouldn’t even bat an eye.

He takes a deep breath, composing himself before he turns to face you again: “Of course. You can always come to me if you ever need anything.” It takes everything in him not to fall apart when he lays a hand on the crown of your head, savouring the heat of your body for the very last time

In the days immediately afterwards, the people around Lucien better watch out as his ability to keep cool, calm and collected is challenged: he’s giving the side-eye to his colleagues at the research institute more often then usual, and Black Swan members literally want to run the other way when they see him coming. If they thought Ares was ruthless before then they’d better watch out now…

As if it were even humanly possible, the professor sleeps even less now: if he’s not in the lab, he’s literally wiling away the hours watching old Hollywood films

Sometimes, he’ll place his hand on the handle to the door of your apartment, closing his eyes and doing his best to pretend that he can still feel your palm in his (he knows you’re not home. You so rarely are these days…)

Unbeknownst to you, Lucien spends his weekends revisiting the places you used to go together: sitting on the same bench at the aquarium where you kissed him without a second thought, wandering to the theme park you ran away to as a child just to watch the carousel spin round and round, trying his best to keep a smile on his face when the kids at the orphanage ask him where his “pretty lady friend” is

Lucien actually has a kite that he bought ages ago, intent on fulfilling his promise to one day fly it with you. It sits in his apartment still. He can’t bring himself to dispose of it.

Gives you his pen, Iridescent, as part of his wedding gift to you. “May it always bring you luck, wherever you are and…whomever you’re with.”

Regardless of where he is, Lucien will always be keeping tabs on you. If Victor ever trips up, you can bet that Lucien will be there to swoop in and take his place

The professor will never love another person for as long as he lives. That’s all there is to it.

Victor:

Throws himself into his work when you break the news to him that you’ve accepted Lucien’s proposal

“If that dummy can’t see that I’m the most suitable choice for her, then let her suffer the consequences of her foolishness.” — Victor will tell himself that, but don’t believe it for even a second

Victor has always been obsessed with working, but this is on an entirely new level, even for him: the man’s been missing meals (or taking them at his desk, at most) and doesn’t leave his office until close to midnight, most days of the week

Like a watch whose gears are irreparably damaged, the LFG CEO is broken on the inside. He has to focus on work because he knows that if he stops long enough to fully consider the consequences of having lost you, he would never climb out of the depths of his despair

Even his dad and aunt become concerned, especially when they notice that he’s lost weight: “Victor, you have employees for a reason. Delegation is not a weakness.”

His mind often drifts to you, especially when he’s driving. There are many times when he finds himself absentmindedly heading in the direction of your office after work before he catches himself (the man is so used to picking you up that it’s become like muscle memory, in a sense)

Weekends will find him holed up in his attic space, fingers tracing over the uneven surface of the cup you had accidentally dropped and shattered, the pieces of which he had spent an entire night glueing back together

He shuts down Souvenir for a while: Victor cannot bring himself to step foot in the kitchen because he can’t help but see your face, smiling in rapturous joy to indulge in the caramel pudding he made especially for you

He spends his nights lying wide awake in a bed that suddenly seems much too big, wondering if you would’ve chosen differently if he took the time to tell you all the things he always thought were obvious: that he respected your fighting spirit, admired the brazen way you never gave up on the things you believed in, loved every single thing about you, even the things he seemed to disapprove of

His biggest regret: that he never had the chance to tell you that you were the love of his life

He often fantasizes about what it would’ve been like to stop time before you informed him you were choosing Lucien, to exist forever with you in a single moment when you made him the happiest man alive just by sharing your time with him

He still checks your Moments account religiously, murmuring “Dummy” with the faintest hint of a smile on his face to see your ridiculous posts, but he can never bring himself to reply. Victor’s pride won’t let him. He would rather die than let you know that each moment spent without you makes him feel like he is suffocating

Eventually, his worried family — especially his aunt — decides that enough is enough. They force Victor to take a vacation while trying to discreetly set him up with daughters of other wealthy and prominent families

Victor is beyond annoyed at having his personal affairs meddled with like this, but is essentially strong-armed by his aunt, who turns on the waterworks and starts sobbing about wanting to see the progeny of her dearest nephew before she passes on or withers away from want of new blood in the Li family

Victor will eventually have to marry and have kids — he needs to have someone to pass LFG on to. It will be a long while before he does settle down though; at one point, it’ll seem like he’s content to be a bachelor for life, married to his work

He will show up for your wedding though, and you can bet the most generous gift will be from the LFG CEO

“Try not to be such a dummy from now on. I won’t be there to set you straight and your husband may not be as patient of a man as I am.” Those jet black eyes are wavering with emotion when he reaches out to lay a hand on your head. But he halts midway, awkwardly pulling back because he’s realized that he doesn’t have the right to touch another man’s wife so casually 😭😭😭

Kiro:

“Ahahaha! All right, all right…you’ve got me. You can stop playing around now, Miss Chips,” Kiro will say, hands held up in defeat when you tell him that you’ve accepted Gavin’s proposal

When he realizes you’re being serious, it’s like all the warmth and light has suddenly been sucked from the room

Those blue eyes go wide, the smile dropping from the superstar’s face. For what seems like an interminable amount of time, Kiro just sits there staring at you, almost catatonic

When he speaks again, you’re so surprised you almost jump out of your skin: “Gavin…he’s that cop, right? The friend you’ve known since high school?”

You nod and all of a sudden, it’s like the floodgates have been opened: Kiro’s grasping your hands in his, expression panic-stricken as his questions come a mile a minute:

“Was it something I did, Miss Chips? I swear I’ll change! I…I won’t eat junk food anymore! Won’t even look at that stuff! If you don’t like your nickname, I’ll call you by your real name, anything you want! Or maybe it’s because my schedule is always so crazy? I’ll cut back on my jobs, I don’t care about the money! If you’re tired of running from the paparazzi, I’ll quit. Just quit, stop everything — I don’t care, ok? The only thing I care about is you! Miss Chips? Please don’t cry…I’m your hero, remember? So please…please…”

A single tear rolls down his cheek — you have to look away or else your resolve would crumble

“I’m so sorry, Kiro. I…I wanted you to be the first to know. I wanted you to hear it from me…”

It’s like all the life has been drained from him; it actually frightens you to see him like that

“Kiro?" You hesitantly lay a hand on his. It’s almost cool to the touch. Kiro gives his head a little shake, seeming to come back to himself

“I’m…I’m so sorry, Miss Chips. I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t mean to get hysterical. God, what an awful way to react….” He forces a laugh, but it is wooden and so goddamn heartbreaking to hear. You almost wish he would scream obscenities at you instead

“He, Gavin…he’s a good man. He’ll be good for you. I’m happy that you’re happy, Miss Chips.”

The next day, Kiro drops off the face of the Earth: he’s MIA, no one can reach him

Everyone is panicking: his agent, Savin, and management, his legions of adoring fans all over the world, and most of all, you

That is, until he sends two text messages, one to Savin and the other to you, telling you all that he’s safe and not to worry; he’s just taking some time to work some things out for himself

In actuality, the only thing that’s happening is that Kiro is reverting back to who he originally was before you came into his life

His sun has been eclipsed by crushing sorrow and loss, the brilliance of your light and warmth forever taken from him and he is left in the cold shadow of solitary darkness

Kiro wants to be happy for you, and he hates that he can’t — this dissonance so disconcerts him that he’d rather not feel anything at all

When the superstar does eventually return to the world at large, there’s something about him that’s changed — Savin and the rest will be largely fooled by that ever-cheerful mask he puts on, but you won’t

Those blue eyes seem just a bit darker, the radiance of his being almost imperceptibly dimmed

Poor Kiro, loved the world over, would never love another person for the rest of his life. It would always be you or nothing.

Shaw:

Hurt. Angry. Confused.

Shaw is angry with himself for ever believing that you and him had a future together; he hates that he saw the signs that you would always, always, always choose Gavin in the end and still continued to lie to himself in spite of it

He hates that he let himself become vulnerable by falling in love with you (Shaw sees vulnerability as the biggest weakness one could have, that’s why he’s always kept himself emotionally guarded in his dealings with people)

But for whatever reason, when it came to you, he just couldn’t help but fall (“Guess brothers are hard-wired in the same way after all, no matter how different we think we are,” he’ll say with a bitter laugh)

A lengthy and most unusual storm will hit Loveland City; expect an extended light show with lots of thunder and lightning

The boy is trashing his place, throwing whatever he can get his hands on: cans of Coke and Pepsi, dishes, clothing and books

He breaks the deck of his skateboard when he smashes it against the wall, bringing down a good chunk of plaster along with it

You won’t be there to witness the destruction. Shaw will continue to front like nothing could ever faze him when you tell him that you’ve chosen to be with Gavin. He’ll chuckle, brows raised as he bites on the tip of his straw, saying, “Whatever. It’s your life. Do what you want with it.”

Then suddenly, he’s standing up to leave, hand half-raised in goodbye as he makes for the exit without so much as a glance back at you.

“Take my umbrella. And don’t worry about returning it.”

Those are his last words to you. Not long after, you spy the handle of the black umbrella sitting in the stand near the front of the café (the only one there, since it had been bright and sunny out). And suddenly, the clouds are rolling in to blanket Loveland City in grey, sheets of rain pouring from a sky cracked in half by a fearsome bolt of lightning

Shaw walks, letting cold rain soak him to the bones to take his mind off the ice that’s already started to freeze the blood in his heart

“Don’t cry…don’t let them f*cking see you cry…" he's saying to himself, over and over again like a mantra

Starts hanging out at the Live House more than ever, losing himself in the music and packed crowds there; he can’t stand to be alone right now.

When he’s not playing bass guitar as a last minute backup for the bands, he’s literally working on his thesis at the bar, sipping on his Coke and Pepsi blend (the staff know him so well that they’re pretty much cool with him doing anything at this point LOL)

STILL blows off every person who comes to proposition him for a good time

I’m sorry, but you know it’s pretty much gonna rain on your wedding day, right? (The poor boy can’t help it, okay? He is SAD, SAD, SAD!)

Much like his brother, Shaw will never really get over you. You were, after all, the first person he ever truly loved

Would likely remain an eternal bachelor, only engaging in meaningless sex but never opening his heart to anyone ever again. One lesson was enough for him. 😭😭😭

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

Thank you so much for reading! Check out more of my work here! 📚

#mlqc #mr love queen's choice #love and producer #mr love dream date #evol x love #mlqc headcanons #mlqc angst #mlqc lucien #mlqc xu mo #mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan #mlqc gavin #mlqc bai qi #mlqc kiro #mlqc zhou qiluo #mlqc shaw #mlqc ling xiao #source: giphy

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raineeskiesabove · 4 years

Text

A Dove’s Song | Venti x Lumine Oneshot

“Paimon doesn’t understand why you care so much about that tone-dear bard! He’s quite bothersome if you ask Paimon,” she whined, closely following Lumine.

“He’s a good person, Paimon. You two may butt heads, but you’re both very important to me. As his friend, it’s my duty to be there for him,” Lumine responded.

She gently patted Paimon’s head to express her affection for the tiny familiar. “Well, his elemental trail leads... here,” she said, frowning to see that it was indeed Angel’s Share. She just hoped that he wasn’t wasted. Again.

Opening the door slowly, Lumine was immediately taken aback by the roar of the crowd inside, all gathered around a table. On top of it stood Venti, with a dazed look in his eyes and a bright smile on his face. Despite the rosy color of his cheeks indicating his intoxication, he was still singing and playing the lyre. Albeit, his slurs and odd movements on the instrument were beginning to create more of a comedy act than respectable entertainment.

“Another song I shall play, if a drink someone will pay!” he announced, taking a large swig from a glass offered by an audience member.

“Gods, he’s going to topple over...” Lumine pushed to the center of the crowd, her eyes now at level with Venti’s loafers.

“Ah! Lumi! You’re just in time for another solo!”

She sighed. “Venti, how many drinks have you had tonight?”

“It seems that I have lost count. But I am indeed trying to achieve a new personal record!” He beamed at her, clearly proud of himself about the idea.

Lumine pinched the bridge of her nose, growing annoyed with his silly antics. The last time he attempted to “break a record”, she found him the next day in some back alley in Monstadt. Upon waking him up, Lumine then found herself holding onto him as he emptied last night’s drinks onto the street. So much for being a regal archon.

“Venti, this isn’t safe! Let me take you home!”

“Yeah! Paimon thinks that the tone-deaf bard has had more than enough dandelion wine!”

But by then, Venti had turned his attention towards the next drink someone had paid for him, which he instantly gulped down. Streams of wine ran sloppily down his chin, staining his cape and shirt. The moment he finished the last of the glass, his body paused, seemingly frozen in motion. The crowd grew quiet, expecting the bard to perform another haphazardly done song. But instead, the pause followed with Venti collapsing onto the table, out cold from drinking too much.

“Venti!” Lumine cupped his cheek to get a better look at his face, indeed confirming that he was unconscious. Having no other choice, Lumine hoisted Venti onto her shoulder to half carry, half drag him away, to the utter shock and amusement of the crowd. She grew irritated upon realizing that no one had offered to help, let alone voice something akin to concern. But for them, she realized, this was the norm for this performer. Venti always performed for food and drinks, and overindulgence was more common than not. If anything, she was the odd one for caring enough to drag him away. She could hear Paimon nagging in her ear, saying something about how the tone-deaf bard should be left to sleep on the ground. But Lumine wouldn’t stand for such a thing.

Renting a small room from a local inn, Lumine laid Venti to rest on the room’s single bed. Upon putting him down, Lumine collapsed to the ground, panting from the strain of moving him across town. Beads of sweat ran down her face, which she wearily tried to brush away with her forearm. Meanwhile, Venti was beginning to stir, and Lumine could hear him groaning like a pond frog.

“Where...?”

“We’re at an inn that Lumine dragged you to, and paid for! You owe her!” Paimon shouted.

“Lumine...! How was my performance? They- they liked it, right?” His voice was hoarse and uneven, making it all the more clear that he wasn’t thinking clearly.

“Yes, yes, you did wonderfully, Venti. Now try to get some rest-“

“But Lumi!” He grabbed her hand suddenly, making her jump.

“Yes?”

“But did you like it?” His words made Lumine hesitate. The first lie was one thing, but was it fair to lie a second time? She reasoned that her lie was too far gone to backpedal for this second answer.

“Yes, Venti, it was lovely,” she whispered.

“Good, good... I sang... like a dove, to proclaim my love,” he mumbled, his eyes growing heavy. Venti squeezed her hand tightly before drifting into a drunken sleep.

“Ehhhh?! Tone-deaf bard likes Lumine?!” Paimon exclaimed. “Hey! Venti, wake up! Are you messing with us!” Paimon poked and prodded him to no avail, as Venti was out cold. She sighed, turning to Lumine. “That bard really is a fool. There’s no way- huh? Lumine?” Upon looking at her, Paimon saw that Lumine’s face had turned a bright red, her eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.

“Wait! Do you actually like that silly bard?”

“N-no! It’s not like that! And, I mean, it’s probably not true, right? People say strange things when they’re not thinking,” she mumbled, now turning away from the bed.

“Hmm, but Paimon thinks you’re lying! Paimon sees how you look at him compared to everyone else. Oooh, Lumine’s in love~” she teased.

Lumine shot Paimon a scowl. She looked at Venti wistfully, shaking her head, “I do love him, but it doesn’t matter. He’s an archon. A protector of freedom. Love would tie him down. I would tie him down,” her voice cracked, her hand meeting her lips to cover her emerging sorrow.

“Don’t say that! Paimon doesn’t like the bard personally, but you deserve to be happy!”

“Thank you, Paimon. But please, don’t tell him. I’ll be the one to decide” she said.

Paimon sighed, “Okay, but Paimon hopes you know what you’re doing.”

“It’ll be fine,” was all Lumine said before leaving to sit by the moonlit windowsill. Alone.

By the time Venti finally came to, the sunlight shone harshly through the now opened window. He was forced to open his eyes gradually, his head spinning from the intense hangover he was now experiencing.

“Boo!” Paimon suddenly appeared in his field of vision, making him jump. “Lumine went to go get some food and supplies for our next trip, so she left Paimon to make sure the bard doesn’t do anything rash!” She crossed her arms proudly to emphasize the importance of her role.

“I see. Will she be back soon?” he muttered.

“Maybe?” Paimon didn’t sound all that confident.

Hours passed. As the sun reached its peak and began to fall, Lumine still indicated no sign of returning. By this point, both Venti and Paimon grew worried, and agreed that it was time to search for her.

“Finally! Something we agree on,” Paimon said, watching Venti scribble a quick note in case Lumine came back.

“I am her friend, and the wind is telling me there is something to amend.”

“Oh, well uh, I wouldn’t know,” Paimon answered unconvincingly.

“No matter, we should still work on finding her. At least she has her Vision set to anemo. That makes her easier to find.”

Eventually, he and Paimon found her at the shores of a nearby river, close to the outskirts of Monstadt.

“Look! There she-“

“Shh!!” Venti held a finger to Paimon’s lips, silencing her. A scowl formed on her face as she quieted down.

Using his Anemo powers, Venti focused on letting her voice travel on the wind, making it easier for her to be heard.

“...Oh Lumine, you’re such a fool. A human and an archon? One of freedom? It wouldn’t be fair. I just-“ she growled in frustration, periodically throwing stones into the rushing water.

Upon hearing this, Venti grew to realize that that occurrence last night wasn’t a dream. It was real, and she had heard the most unromantic way a bard could’ve possibly confessed their love. But he agreed, in that his affection for her did feel out of character. Were archons even allowed to have such feelings for a mere mortal? The division in their respective roles made him hesitate. Not because he thought lowly of her, but rather about their future. The thought of losing her made his stomach churn, but he tried to convince himself that it was the remnants of alcohol talking.

He approached her warily, not wanting to startle her. “Lumi? Lumi, are you alright? You didn’t return so I was getting worried.”

She turned around slowly, her shoulders shaking from trying to hold back her sobs. Venti’s heart ached from the sight of her, his saddened gaze making her cover her face in shame.

“Don’t look at me. Just- just leave, pretend you saw nothing,” she choked.

But he didn’t leave, and instead sighed before beginning to speak. “Lumine, what did I say last night?”

“You don’t... remember?”

“No, I’m sorry. But regretfully I have been listening in. I was worried of where you have been,” he explained, averting his eyes regretfully, “I said something. Something about love, yes?”

She nodded slowly, hugging herself in preparation for his rejection.

“Well, it’s true. I... I am in love with you, Lumine. I just wish I could’ve told you in a better way. Perhaps singing like a dove to express my love would’ve been much better to hear, huh?”

From that statement, Lumine suddenly stopped crying, staring at him with a look of shock. He raised an eyebrow quizzically, only more confused than before.

In the silence, Paimon added her two cents, “Oh, wow! That’s what the bard said last night too! If the rhyme was the same even when he was drunk, he must really care about Lumi!”

“Is that really true? You have feelings for me?” she asked in disbelief, reddened eyes wide with a shocked expression.

Venti nodded slowly, before taking a few steps closer to her. In response, Lumine stepped back, afraid to completely allow herself to be vulnerable in his presence.

“But why? I would take away a part of your freedom,” she argued regretfully.

He smiled, “Yes, that is true. But I’ve always envisioned Monstadt to be a city of romance and new experiences. I just never thought that there would come a day that I too would fall for someone. You’re in pain, Lumine, because you’ve bound your feelings in chains,” by the end of his statement, he found himself frowning again.

“Is it okay?”

“What is?”

“Is it okay... for me to love you?”

“Yes, it is. And it is okay for me to love you in return. This will admittedly not be easy, but I truly believe that the wind brought us together for a reason.”

This time, when he tried to approach her, she didn’t move away, instead letting him slowly step towards her shaken form. As the sun began to set over the horizon, Venti thought about how brilliantly the color reflected in her glassy eyes. It was both a stunning and heartbreaking sight, making his heart skip a beat. Soon, he grew close enough to wrap his arms around her, pulling her close against his chest. In his embrace, Lumine found comfort in how warm he was. It felt like being enveloped in a warm summer’s day. And it was then, that she finally realized that he truly loved her with all his being. Taking deep breaths, she finally closed her eyes, allotting time for them to rest.

She felt him begin to walk, still holding her close. Lumine followed his lead, trusting him enough to keep her eyes shut. Venti chose a nearby tree to rest under, guiding her down to sit with him. Awkwardly, the way she had clung to him caused her to remain in a seated position on his lap, which he admittedly didn’t mind, but it was enough to make his cheeks heat up. Still, her eyes remained closed as she nuzzled her weary face into the crook of his neck. Save for the sound of their breathing, it was quiet. Paimon had presumably left to give them some much needed space. Maybe she wasn’t so bad after all.

“Lumi, are you asleep?” he whispered.

“No, I am simply resting, dear bard,” she hummed. Her sweet voice sent a shiver down his spine, the affection in her voice making his heart skip a beat.

He wondered if she was teasing him at this point, keeping her gorgeous eyes hidden from his sight. That could be fixed. Placing a hand against her cheek, he slowly lifted her face, brushing his thumb against her smooth skin. This time it was Lumine’s turn to shiver, the roughness of his calloused fingertips feeling foreign to her. He smiled to himself, before leaning in to plant a soft kiss against her perfect lips. In his shyness, he only lasted for but a brief moment before pulling away. But he got what he wanted, as the kiss had finally tempted her into revealing her eyes once more. She offered a gentle smile in return, combing a strand of hair behind her ear. Playfully, she leaned her body closer against his, blessing him with a kiss of her own. The feeling sent sparks flying in his head, his hands moving away from her face to run through her choppy hair. He felt her hands move to rest against his chest, lightly gripping his shirt to maintain balance. The two only pulled apart when Lumine finally had to pause for air, gasping for breath. Venti planted a final kiss on her forehead before tilted her face towards his gaze. The prominent circles under her eyes made him frown.

Summoning his lyre, Venti strummed it thoughtfully, playing a gentle score. With it, accompanied his voice, now expressed in the form of a soft lullaby. As he sang, he felt her head lean against his chest, her breathing growing slower with each note. By the end of his song, Lumine was already fast asleep, still holding onto him tightly. Her serene expression made him smile softly, “Off to the land of nod I see. Goodnight my friend... my love.”

#venti x lumine #venti #genshin impact #genshin impact traveler #genshin impact venti #genshin #genshin venti #genshin lumine #lumine #lumine x venti #genshin impact lumine #traveler x venti #venti x mc #venti x reader #genshin oneshot

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imaginesupply · 3 years

Text

Homecoming - Chapter Four

(Gif's not my own.)

Summary: The day has arrived, Captain Syverson is going home. For good, this time. He is going home to a civilian life he can hardly remember and a wife he barely knows, with memories of the war still fresh on his mind. Love might not be able to heal everything on its own, but it’s a good start.

Genres: Romance, drama.

Story warnings: Smut (always fully consensual), mentions of PTSD and nightmares and mental health, angst, hurt and comfort, fluff, mentions of war (minor), mentions of cheating (minor), mentions of pregnancy (very minor), police appearance (very minor), violence (very minor).

Notes:

-It’s my first time writing for one of Henry’s characters and I’m unsure I did Sy’s character any justice.

-This is a Capt. Syverson x OFC (Ada) story, written in 3rd person POV but OFC’s physical description is very limited so it could also be read as Capt. Syverson x Reader, I think.

-English is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes. Proofread, but not beta’ed. We die like men and all that.

-Timeline is a little wacky: The movie takes place in 2003 and the U.S. forces were withdrawn from Iraq in 2011, but I never set a precise date because I don’t think it’s essential for this story. However, some elements might not be realistic because if we set this story in 2003: Phone cameras quality was not as good as it’s now, but for the purpose of the chapters, I will need you to imagine you could film great videos with your flip phone haha. Plus, it says Sy is coming back after being deployed for more than three years which makes no sense unless we set this in 2006 or later. I am asking you disregard any time inconsistencies.

-Also: I am not American. I only lived in the US for six months and it was in the Midwest, not Texas so please bear with me if I write something stupid.

-Finally: This will be a Christmas fic and I intend to post the last chapter (there will be seven in total) on or before Christmas. However, religion is never mentioned in this story and the Christmas-sy elements of this story are limited to family gathering, gift giving and tree decorating.

Chapter Four starts after the cut. (Chapter Three can be found here.) Let me know if you wish to be tagged in future chapters or if you wish to be removed from the tag list.

Chapter Four

Chapter warnings: PTSD, angst (or as much angst as I’ll ever write), couple’s fight, outdated expectations of marriage (is that even a warning?), mentions of masturbation.

This chapter is a little different from the previous ones and it’s stitched together weirdly. Also, there’s no smut (which is unusual for me!), but Chapter 5 will be more humorous and lighthearted.

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

“When’s your next leave?” Harper asked from behind the wheel, knowing better than to take his eyes off the sand road. He had been transferred to the Special Forces after the whole water pumping station incident, with Sy’s approval.

They were at the very back of the convoy, like always. It was the only way Sy was able to keep all the Humvees in sight and look out for everyone.

“Not sure I’m gonna be seeing home before July.” Sy replied, blue eyes scrunched up as he tried making something, anything out in the darkness surrounding them. Doing this scouting mission at night hadn’t been his idea, but the order had come from higher up and it was when the guards were at their lowest.

Harper smiled, a short huff escaping his chest. “Ah yes! What are you going do once you’re home for good?” The soldier asked, the tiniest hint of teasing in his voice. “Give your wife a small army of Texan babies?”

Sy scoffed, his chest shaking beneath the heavy protective vest. “Eyes on the road, soldier.”

“Yes, captain.” Harper chuckled even as he obeyed the command.

The rest of the drive went by in silence. The whole point of doing it at night was to be unseen and unheard. Confirm it was an armory so that an airstrike could later destroy it. Quick and easy.

Sy absentmindedly rubbed his finger through the thick glove, trying to feel the wedding band beneath. He never took the thing off, but it still somehow eased his mind to make sure it was there – make sure she was there across the ocean. They had talked on the phone the night before and he could still hear her shriek as she stubbed her toe on the doorframe whilst pacing around the house as she spoke to him. She wanted to order new tires for his pickup truck because she was afraid the current ones would be expired once he got back. He told her not to worry about any of that, but she insisted and then asked about Aika, changing subjects. No matter what they talked about, he always slept better after hearing her voice.

The landscape changed ever so slightly. They were there, right outside the deserted town’s walls. Sy gave everyone the order to pull up and get ready. It was only when he stepped out of the Humvee, his feet landing swiftly on the soft sand and the cold night’s air hitting his face, that he realized that Sy had been there already. He was dreaming again.

He had been there hundreds of times, taken the same steps, given the same orders and run away from the same explosion. After having the same nightmare night after night, the shock and the surprise element had lessened, but the dread remained unchanged. Sy was cursed to relive the same scene again and again, for moments even wondering if he lacked imagination so much that his mind was unable to come up with anything else.

Still, every night, he'd try changing the outcome, attempt to take control of his past self and make different decisions: refuse the mission, take a different team, catch Lieutenant Wilkins before he had a chance to run into the trap. It never worked. The result was always the same with him shouting for everyone to retreat and grabbing on to the back of Wilkins' uniform, trying to drag him out of the building, unsuccessfully. Then the telltale detonation followed, the building shook and they were thrown backwards with the explosion. When Sy landed on the concrete, there was a corpse - or what remained of it - on top of him. It was what had shielded him from the worst.

He once tried to warn Wilkins about the child's voice asking for help, to tell him it was a trap and that they needed to ignore it, but he was unable to speak. They were there, on the exact spot, a large room right down the stairs with no windows or lights, only three parted doors. Unlike the first time, the real time, he knew what was about to happen, through what door the grenade would be thrown out of before rolling on the dusty ground. And he went through it all over again.

It was the noise that alerted him the first time, the impact as it hit ground and then the rolling sound on the uneven surface.

"Retreat!" Sy heard his own voice shout loud enough for the rest of the team behind them to hear, then an echo of hurried, heavy footsteps followed.

He knew what happened then. Sy waited for the faint, unidentifiable cry for help and for Wilkins to blindly bolt towards the voice, the grenade. He knew he'd unable to stop him this time just like all the others. What was the point of making him relive the same failure over and over again?

"Help!"

Sy froze on the spot, unlike all the other previous nights. This time it was not a random infantile voice. It was Ada's. She was crying out for help, for him.

This time it was him who dashed after the voice, the grenade exploding before he could reach her.

°°°

Ada thought that they had dodged the bullet, that they had somehow managed to avoid all the stuff she had crammed her head with when she had found out Sy was retiring from active combat sooner than expected. The notes she had taken, the websites she had visited, the therapists she had researched and ranked according to online reviews; she had started to think none of these would come in handy. Apart from that small incident when grocery shopping and the whole thing with Tom, Sy was okay, they were okay. Or so she thought.

It only took maybe eight days of Sy being back home to find out that wasn't true. It was almost like when you took a plane and fly halfway across the globe. The first days you’d eat dinner at 3am and go to bed three hours later and nothing felt real. Then it settled in. But this wasn't a spontaneous holiday or a mid-life crisis, this was an honorable discharge. Sy wasn't leaving behind an unsatisfying career, he was leaving the war.

He came home. They reunited, caught up with each other, basked in other's presence. Ada had to keep reminding herself that she could fall asleep at night without the anxiety of feeling like she was wasting away his leave with something as frivolous as sleep.

Only sleep wasn't frivolous, Ada soon came to realize. Sy slept well the first few nights back home. The exhaustion helped, so did sex. Sy would kiss her, roll over, pull her into his arms and fall right asleep after it.

That changed quickly. On the eight night, she woke up to pee hours before dawn only to find his side of the bed empty. She found him downstairs playing on his new console. It was the jetlag that made him unable to sleep, he said. Ada knew better, even as she acquiesced.

The following night, after making love and taking care of her, Sy didn't even bother pretending he was going to bed. "I won't be able to sleep anyways and I don't want to keep you up," he claimed, putting on a t-shirt and some sweatpants before going out for a run. It was past midnight.

After going two days with barely shutting his eyes, Sy did finally fall asleep in bed with her. Ninety minutes later, he was awake again.

"You okay?" Ada groaned softly, forcing her eyes open but it was too dark to see anything. She had woken up with his tossing and turning.

"Yeah, just go back to sleep," Sy replied dismissively, turning on his side and facing the window away from her.

Ada was about to do just that, believing his words in her incoherent sleepiness, when her hand touched his clammy back. He had managed to sweat through his t-shirt, but his skin remained icy.

"You're not okay," she whispered to herself before switching on her small bedside lamp and sitting up.

"I told you to go back to sleep, Ada," Sy protested, still facing away from her.

She shook her head softly and tried to pull him into her arms, but he was too heavy, and she couldn't move him without his help. "If something's wrong, you can tell me, you know."

She waited in silence for him to answer, to say something, anything at all. She had planned on watching podcasts, meeting with veterans and whatever she could do to help, but Sy had come home several months earlier than planned and she didn't know what to do, what was expected of her as a wife, as his partner, as his support person.

"Alright, you don't have to talk if you don't want to," she attempted quietly, sliding back into bed and moving in behind him, doing her best to be the big spoon for once. "We can just cuddle until you fall asleep."

Apparently, that turned out to be the wrong thing to say. Sy jumped out of bed as if her touch had burnt him. "I'm not a fucking child, Ada. I don't need your cuddles."

She flinched at his tone, taking a deep breath but her voice still came out strangled. "I was not implying you were a child, Sy. I just thought - no - I just hoped that you would find some comfort with me," she admitted but he was already getting dressed, sweaty skin and all. "Clearly I was wrong."

His face was red behind his full beard. He was pissed, she could almost feel him buzzing as he tried to restrain his anger and not - she didn't know what he was keeping himself from doing. Whatever it was, Ada was sure his next words hurt just as much as whatever he was initially going to do.

"I don't need you to fucking comfort me, woman!" He spat out, putting on a pair of boots. "I don't need anyone's help and certainly not my wife's!"

With that, he marched to the bedroom door, forcefully throwing it open. "I'm going out for air. Don't wait up for me."

They barely saw each other the next day. Sy texted that he was going to spend some time with his mom. Still hurt and offended, even though she knew this was not about her, Ada left for the day without telling him her whereabouts.

She took her car and drove to the animal shelter to help out. No one was expecting her there, but they gave her some work to do and it did help her feel better for a couple hours at least. But it was barely noon when she was done and she refused to go home, meeting up with friends instead. None of them asked why she wasn't at home practically glued to Sy. They were used to their friend pretty much vanishing off the face of the Earth whenever Sy came home for two or three weeks, but they were wise enough not to question it.

His words had stung. Ada was aware he had been mad, and that people always said dumb stuff when they were mad, but she did find some truth in his words. Why would he need her comfort? Her help? Or even a wife at all?

Sy had lived thirty-three years without knowing her and then three more married to her but living continents' apart. He could command soldiers, lead missions, plan attacks and whatever it was that he also did back in Iraq. The house was his, his mom would be overjoyed to cook for him and do his laundry again if he didn’t want to do it himself and Ada didn't kid herself - if he wanted sex, all he had to do was walk into a bar.

So, technically speaking, she knew Sy didn't need her. He was a grown ass man who could survive on his own better than ninety-nine percent of the population. What had hurt her was that he didn't want her, nor her help or her comfort. And if he didn't want her to try and make his life a lil' bit better, what was even the point. Ada didn't know and all the cocktails she consumed didn't provide an answer either, but they did end up forcing her to eat almost her own weight in food to soak up all the alcohol before driving back home at ten.

She was still fishing out her keys to open the front door, when Sy pulled it open with so much force, it almost flew off its hinges.

"Where the fuck have you been?!" Sy shouted as soon as she set a foot inside.

"I was out with friends.” Ada took off her shoes by the door. "How's your mom?" She looked up only long enough to find him staring down at her with his thick arms crossed in front of his chest.

"I sent you a dozen texts and called you just as many times, but you never picked up." Oh, his tone had switched to that unsettling calm before the storm.

"I apologize, my phone was on silent," Ada replied. It was true, though she had still noticed his calls and texts. "Look I am tired, and I am going to take a shower." She said before walking upstairs to their bedroom.

To her surprise, Sy followed her up, stopping only at their room’s threshold as if he weren’t allowed inside without her forgiveness. "I am sorry for yesterday," he sighed, leaning against the doorframe.

“It’s okay.” Ada shook her head, undressing rapidly and balling up her dirty clothes to throw them in the hamper. She smelt like a whole bar and she was desperate for a shower.

“I didn’t mean it, what I said,” he added, finally walking inside the room but still keeping his distances.

“It’s okay, don’t worry.” She reassured him, disappearing inside the en-suite. This was just a fight. Couples had them all the time. Sy had even apologized. “I am sorry too. For today.”

His voice startled her, Sy was closer than she had expected. “Do you have need for me?” He asked, making her still as she bent down to fetch some fresh towels from the drawer. Did she have need for him? Ada frowned even though he couldn’t see her face. She heard him sigh again behind her.

"I felt useful back in Baqubah. I ran that city, commanded soldiers, gave my country something and then an explosion happens, two of my men die. And you know what they do? They send me home. Not to punish me for fucking up; they send me home because they thought I had witnessed enough shit and deserved an honorable discharge. Whatever the reason, my services weren't needed there anymore."

"Then I come home to my wife, to you, Ada. And you know what?” He asked before providing the answer himself. “The doors don't screech, the mirror has been replaced and my wife doesn’t even need me to take her out on dates or to the movies because she already has someone for that. So really, what's my goddamn purpose here? The house doesn't need me. You don't need me. Even my mother doesn't need me what with her new boyfriend. So why the fuck did I come back?"

He paused and Ada took it as a chance to stand up and face him. She didn’t know what this was. His voice wasn’t loud, he wasn’t shouting, and his posture didn’t appear hostile. They weren’t arguing, this was something different. “That’s not-” Sy cut her off.

"Then, last night, I realize that while you don't need me, I sure as hell need you, Ada. And that's not how I imagined my marriage would be. I should be the provider. I should be taking care of you, not the other way around."

"This is not the 1950s, Sy," Ada chuckled faintly despite herself.

"That don’t matter. It's how I was raised: preside, provide and protect. I don't care about the presiding part; I knew from day one that I'd never be able to boss you around and I didn't want to. But I still very much believe in providing for and protecting what's mine, and instead, you're the one doing that. So, not only did I fail my men back in Iraq, but now I’ve failed you too."

“No. Stop right there.” Ada interrupted him, more forcefully than intended. "Okay, first, you never failed me. Don’t you ever say that.” Sy huffed from his spot by the door, clearly unconvinced but she was determined to get this out. “Second, I... I think you need to stop settling for being needed and instead accept that you are loved, at least by me."

Sy stiffened against the doorframe, his face taking over an unreadable expression beneath his beard. Shit. Did she mess up again? "Did I say something wrong?"

He didn’t reply right away. Ada took a few steps to him when his words took her by surprise. "You said you loved me."

She stopped in her tracks, opening her mouth and closing it again a few times, stammering. Confusion was evident on her face. "Well, yeah."

"You've never said it before," Sy explained, the hint of a smile on his lips.

Ada frowned, a little unsteady on her feet as she thought back. "Are you certain? I'm pretty sure that is what I ended all our phone calls with."

He shook his head. "I meant in person.”

"Oh, I never realized.”

The cold bathroom tile floor was not the place either of them would have picked out under different circumstances, but it was where Sy finally allowed himself to be cuddled into the warmth of her embrace for the first time, his head resting against her naked breast with her slow heartbeat lulling him into a different kind of peace. “I do love you, Sy.”

Ada was no fool, this wouldn’t soothe all his troubles, but for now, it was a start. And that was all she could ask for.

°°°

Sy sat down on the chair in their study. Most walls were covered with Ada’s textbooks from floor to ceiling. He huffed at the sight. If you’d told him five years ago that he’d end up with an academic wife, he’d have laughed in your face. Now, he tested touched the shelves, watching them wobble slightly and decided he ought to build her something sturdier.

First, he had to take care of some administrative bullshit for the new job he'd be starting at Camp Marbry in January. He had always hated bureaucracy but there was no escaping it. He had learned it the hard way as a private. Maybe it was also time he started going through their utilities folders. Ada had taken over all of it when they got married, managing their bank accounts and paying the bills. Sy hadn't taken of that shit in years but he probably should relieve her of some of those chores.

His eyes wandered over to the neatly organized shelves under the office desk, trying to find the correct binder when his attention landed on what appeared to be a fancy silver notebook. Was that the one Tom had mentioned?

Sy knew he shouldn't go through her stuff, but he was curious and it was not like she had hidden it or anything. Ending his hesitation with a shrug, he picked up the notebook only for stray bits of paper to immediately fly out and land on the carpeted floor. "Shit!"

He bent down and gathered them all up quickly in his hand, lest Ada find out he was snooping and chide him like a soldier. He sat back on the chair and started reading through some of the bits and slips of paper he had caught: "shaving gel not cream!", "dog treats (the fancy ones)", "boxer briefs in L"... They were all dated too. Sy figured they were just old shopping lists until he opened the notebook.

The first part appeared to be a logbook of sorts with notes about each and every one of their calls for the past year. Sy went over some of them, grinning despite himself. He never imagined Ada took notes during their weekly phone calls.

"Sy says it's really cold at night in the desert."

"He seems a little down..."

"Aika has a sweet tooth." Damn, he missed that dog!

“Explosion. Two men dead.”

He skipped over the next few pages, remembering it all too well. After the logbook part, came a set of lists, all dated. "The monthly care packages," Sy realized, reading through them and concluding that this was where the bits of paper had fallen from.

All the care package lists were cross-referenced with the calls logbook. Sy had never understood how she always managed to send him exactly what he needed. He wasn't even aware that he had mentioned most of these small things to her. Most of the time, he didn't even understand how she managed to fit so much stuff into those small USPS boxes. Whenever he tried putting everything back in the cardboard box for safekeeping, half of it didn't fit back inside.

He flipped through a few more care packages before landing on a particularly long list. The date was highlighted, it was the package he had received on the month of his birthday. Ada had made him promise not to open it before the 18th. “You can open the box, but I will know if you open the present before your birthday, Sy,” she had warned him on the phone, trying to sound very stern. “And if you do, I’ll come to Iraq just to whoop your ass.” He had laughed so loudly, Harper had knocked on his door to make sure he was alright.

Sy laughed again as he went over the list, remembering how the private from the deliveries and postal department kept on complaining because packages this big were 'not usually authorized' and that he was getting 'favor treatment' because he was captain and that Ada shouldn't even have been allowed to ship a box exceeding the maximum dimensions. Sy had taken the package from the soldier and asked if he fancied a trip to the infirmary. That had shut him up quickly.

There had been candy (no chocolate because it had melted through its packaging once when she had tried sending him some), gum, the two first James Bond novels, dog treats, a new photo of his niece and nephew, underwear that was way too fancy for him and a handwritten letter from Ada.

What had immediately caught his attention was the very neatly wrapped gift box with a big red bow and a small card that reminded him once more not to open it until his birthday and only when he was alone.

Sy laughed, remembering how giddy he was to open that damn box. They'd gone on a recon mission on his birthday and when they got back, everyone was exhausted and dirty. He had hurried to the showers, cutting off some soldiers and then rushed to his private room to open the gift.

In all his adult life, Sy could only remember blushing three times, two of them the same day. First was when Ada said 'I do’ and he tried sliding the ring on her finger, but nervous and tipsy like he had been, the damn tiny thing slipped off his hand and fell on the carpet. Second was when the limo supposed to bring them back to their hotel was caught up in traffic, and the two of them decided to get it on in the chapel's storage room while another couple was getting married. Not only did they promptly – and accidentally, might he add – knock over all the props, he literally ended up fucking her through the cheap and unstable dry wall. The look on the couple’s face had been priceless!

The third time was on his birthday. Inside the box, he had found a handful of professionally made photos of Ada in lingerie and sometimes not even that much. If that didn't have his mind spinning and his dick throbbing after so many months away, he certainly couldn't believe his eyes when he found a small tube of lube and a transparent fleshlight.

It was not the gift as such that made him blush. The photos had him beyond excited and he was all too eager to try out the fleshlight. No, the embarrassment only settled in afterwards. More specifically when Sy remembered that despite having a private room as a captain, the washrooms where shared and he found himself cleaning the fleshlight in the sink with the little water they had, hoping no one would see him.

"Oh shit!"

Sy jumped in his chair at her voice, he hadn't heard her get home, let alone upstairs.

"Fuck. You weren’t meant to see that, Sy.” Ada babbled, quickly walking up to him with a sheepish look on her face.

Sy smiled, interrupting her as he seized her hips and pulled her down to sit on his lap. "It’s okay, darlin'."

Ada's eyes widened incredulously. "Really? You’re not even mad at me for meeting with a therapist to get advice?"

Sy closed his eyes, nostrils flaring for a moment. Right. Admittedly, he had not yet made it to that part but while he wasn't exactly keen on discussing his private life with strangers, he felt no anger at finding out that Ada had tried to look after him. Her words from last night had somehow made it through his thick skull.

"No, I'm not angry, not even for that. I know you were just trying to-"

Sy opened his eyes again at her silence only to find his wife grinning like the Cheshire cat as she looked at the open page on the notebook.

"You didn't even make it that far, huh?" She chuckled, pointing at the list. "Nope, you were still stuck with that ridiculous birthday gift I gave you!" While her tone was accusatory, Sy could see that she was trying not to burst out laughing.

Rolling his eyes, he pried the notebook from her hands and set it down on the desk. "It was not a ridiculous gift. I kept it all," Sy reassured her, pressing her body closer to his. "Well, not the lube. That was gone in weeks. And the photos are definitely a little used now but-"

Ada kissed him out of the blue, shutting him up. "Sy, I really love you but you're giving me secondhand embarrassment right now."

The bear of a man laughed, holding ever impossibly tighter before kissing her forehead. "I love you too, wife." Then, another thought crossed his mind. “Do you think it’s possible to send a care package to a dog?”

@colourmeinblue @hail-horror-queen @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl @kmuir1 @madbaddic7ed @coffeebreathy @purplelove75 @summersong69 @helenaellie

#henry cavill smut #syverson smut #henry cavill x reader #syverson x reader #henry cavill x ofc #syverson x ofc

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dadsbongos · 3 years

Text

Treehouse

Movie/Game/Show: My Hero Academia Dynamic: Katsuki Bakugou/Reader (and a lot of other people) Warnings: Spoilers for bakugou’s hero name ahead!!, songfic for this song Summary: Katsuki’s grown a lot since middle school, hasn’t he? ~~~

Do Not Enter's written on the doorway. Why can’t everyone just go away? Except you. You can stay.

Katsuki looked down at the girl in his arms, eyes fluttered shut and lashes fallen over her cheeks. Lips parted ever so slightly to let out puffs of even, laxed breathing. The golden sunlight shone in her hair as it beamed through his thin curtains, soft warmth spreading over both of their bodies. His fingers carefully danced over the tender skin of her arm as he held her close. Her head over his chest and he was sure that the sound of his thunderous heartbeat would wake her eventually.

It felt nice, he concluded, to hold his love so dearly. To let his chest deflate and not have to be the best of the best. He didn’t have to be anyone. He didn’t have to be Bakugou, Katsuki - top of the class. Bakugou, Katsuki - Dynamight. Bakugou, Katsuki - Kacchan. Bakugou, Katsuki.

If he didn’t want to, he didn’t have to be anyone. She’d hold him just as close with any other persona he wanted to wear. It was his real security. His real home - right in her arms. A home he didn’t want to leave.

He wasn’t sure when it hit him. Just one of those random thoughts you never expect but deep down, you knew the entire time. Something so simple and yet so earth shattering that merely breathing it into existence seemed catastrophic. He wasn’t sure when it hit him that he was terrified of losing her. So innately terrified that the very thought was enough to send his muscles a tremor.

The feeling, it wasn’t nice. But he knew exactly what was - living the life he could with (Y/n).

What do you think of my treehouse? It's where I sit and talk really loud. Usually, I'm all by myself.

“Man, you’re really saving my ass here, Bakubro!” Eijiro grinned, exposing his unnatural shark teeth.

Katsuki huffed, “Don’t think about it, shitty hair. You’re still not passing.”

“I know, I know,” the redhead nervously grinned, eyeing the rolled up newspaper in Katsuki’s hand as he did so, “It’s just manly of you to help me is all. You’ve changed, man, it’s kinda cool.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious!” Eijiro put down his pencil, “It’s cool.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes but didn’t retort further. Whether he was ready to admit it or not, that usually would’ve gotten Kirishima, Eijiro a first-class newspaper swatting but he supposed he could let it pass. Just this once.

I’m the captain but you can be the deputy. I'm really glad you think I'm so funny. I don't think I'm ever gonna let you leave.

Denki bit at his bottom lip in concentration, more effort going into thinking about cracking the egg in his hand than actually cracking the egg in his hand. His brows were drawn tight toward his face, contemplating how he should go about his cracking to avoid a mess. The last time he was trusted to crack eggs, he’d gotten shell in the bowl and yolk all on the counter and his fingers. The last time he was trusted to crack eggs, he felt like an utter fool.

Looking over to the electric blond, Katsuki snarled at how little the boy had gotten done. Walking over, he took the egg still encased in its roughened shell from Denki in one hand and a bowl in the other. Tilting the porcelain bowl just right, Katsuki snapped the egg against the lip of the dish, pulling his fingers apart to hold the crack in the egg open so the yolk could drool down. Tossing out the eggshell, Katsuki watched as Denki took an egg for himself before copying exactly what the explosive teenager had done.

As two yolks drowned together in whites within their little bowl, Denki sung the praises of his dear friend, of Bakugou, Katsuki - and in Denki’s opinion, apparently, a masterchef.

Nodding stiffly, Katsuki turned back to his own task at buttering the pan as it laid atop its burner. He let silence rule the kitchen until Denki would break it with a lame joke he would never admit he liked.

Do Not Enter's written on the doorway. Why can’t everyone just go away? Except you. You can stay.

“You have such great lid space, though,” Mina clasped her hands tighter, “I think it’d be fun!”

Katsuki grumbled under his breath before sighing and tossing his head back, “I’ll give you twenty minutes. Starting fucking now.”

Squealing, Mina hopped onto the common room couch before unzipping her makeup bag, “Thanks, Bakugou!”

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes, barely managing to hold his underlying frustration inside, “Your damn funeral if you fuck up.”

“I won’t…” Mina pouted, “C’mon, don’t you believe in me? Just a little? You’ve seen what I can do.”

“I’ll believe for now.”

What do you think of my treehouse? It's where I sit and talk really loud. Usually, I'm all by myself.

“Oh, didn’t know the balconies were occupied,” Hanta awkwardly muttered.

Katsuki looked up from the ground below, brows furrowed and eyes stinging, “If you say anything to anyone, I’ll kill you myself.”

Putting his hands up, Hanta showed off that stupidly large, stupidly infectious grin, “Hey, man, everyone needs a good cry. I think it keeps us sane.”

Nodding silently, Katsuki stood at his railing, head hanging over and eyes clenched shut in a new effort to keep his tears in.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“I’d rather die.”

“Maybe, instead of dying, you could just vent to a trusted friend who cares about you?” Hanta suggested, “You go to (L/n), right? Well, now you can come to me, too. We’re friends, Bakugou, we’re there for each other.”

I’m the captain but you can be the deputy.

Stirring inside his mind, were the thoughts he’d been keeping to himself since that fight. His real fight with Izuku. Where Katsuki won. The successor to All Might and boy wonder was beaten by Katsuki. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

Izuku was making progress fast, far too fast. He was leaping towards the top and Katsuki could only watch on, feet trapped in the cement. The ground swallowing his body as Deku, the Quirkless one, the useless one, the crybaby, bound forward in success.

It wasn’t fair. He wasn’t enough. Bakugou, Katsuki was simply not enough.

That’s what he was beginning to believe; where he couldn’t even save himself from villains, Deku came rushing in to save him and succeeded.

Sitting at the kitchen island, alone, in the middle of the night, that’s what Katsuki was beginning to believe.

Lights flicker on, “Kacchan?”

Closing his eyes, Katsuki pretended there was no voice. Nobody behind him. No one but him awake at this awful hour.

“You’re usually in bed by now. Way before, actually.”

There was no reply. There didn’t need to be one. Izuku sat beside Katsuki all the same, an uneven, slightly nervous, smile on his face as he did so.

Katsuki opened his eyes, looking at the other boy from the corner of his peripheral, “You’ve made the power yours.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re not as useless as I thought.”

“Thanks… you know, I’ve been meaning to ask… would you- would you train with me sometime? I think that I could really improve if I fought someone like you.”

“Someone like me? The fuck does that mean?”

“Strong. Well-versed in your Quirk. Other than Todoroki, you’re probably the best at Quirk application, so I wanted to see if I could fight you.”

“Ask daddy issues.”

“But then we couldn’t have our rematch. I still need to beat you, Kacchan, you know?”

I'm really glad you think I'm so funny.

Katsuki found himself staring at the back of Izuku’s head, brows furrowed. Anger. Frustration. Confusion. He couldn’t tell what exactly it was. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see her. (L/n), (Y/n) smiling at him softly, perfect lips tugged into a perfect grin on her perfect face. God, what he wouldn’t give to just grab her and kiss the smile off her face just to do it all over again. What he wouldn’t give to scream to the world he loved her.

“You okay? You’re tense.”

Glancing to the front, Shota still sleepily tucked in his sleeping bag in a corner of the room, Katsuki nodded, “Fucking fine. Just thinking.”

Setting her chin in the palm of her hand, (Y/n) tilted her head ever so slightly, “Wanna tell me about it?” shaking his head, the ash-blond went to refuse when she spoke up again, “Not here, if you wanna wait.”

He felt almost unworthy. Losing to Deku, killing the legacy of All Might, getting kidnapped by villains - Bakugou, Katsuki felt unworthy of his own lover’s comforts. Looking at the face of an angel would make you crazy - at least that’s what his father told him once. And so, he nodded slowly, “Sure. Later. Alone, though, I’m not talking shit in front of Raccoon Eyes and Dunce Face.”

“Whatever you need,” she murmured, giggling quietly to herself, “I’m here.”

I don't think I'm ever gonna let you leave.

“I’ll say this once.”

He burned the image of them into his brain. (Y/n) and Eijiro on either side of him on the common room couch. Denki just about ready to cut through the carrot cake Mina and Hanta slaved over despite trashing on the choice the entire time. Izuku was slightly off to the side, ready to hand off gifts to his childhood rival.

Katsuki sighed quietly, looking to his feet when a hand grabbed his, (Y/n) rubbing her thumb into his skin. He swallowed his pride before letting everything he felt about each and every person in the room manifest into the best phrase someone like him could imagine.

“Thanks. For everything.”

#bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakusquad #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou appreciation post #he's great and i love him :3 soo i wrote this #song is treehouse by alex g if that wasn't clear

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collecting-stories · 4 years

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Swings - JJ (Outer Banks)

Request: Hello babes! I adore your writing so much and I was wondering if you could do a JJ imagine with prompts #26 and #31? And make it really fluffy too? ;)) @sweetingly

A/N: Just some fluff...I’m a fan of the fluff honestly.

Outer Banks Masterlist

///

“Okay you could never eat Doritos again or every time you ate a Dorito it would have a little bit of person dust on it?” You asked, knees bent over one of the uneven bars at the playground as you hung upside down. JJ was sitting on top of the other one, knuckles white and arms extended as he kept his balance. You didn’t have the best view of it but you could imagine the definition in his arms as he sat there, muscles tense to prevent him from losing his grip.

He’d been on the monkey bars earlier though he was too tall to use them properly so he settled for trying to do flips on them. He landed one and narrowly missed sending himself to the hospital with the other. The park was fenced in, off limits at night to stop teenagers, like yourselves, from hanging out on the playground equipment and smoking. After the fourth disturbance call from the nosey woman across the street last year the fence had gone up. Which prevented nothing. JJ parked his dad’s truck or your mom’s minivan right beside the fence, giving you a boost over.

“Person dust?” JJ questioned, teetering forward just so before righting himself.

He’d abandon this activity soon for the swings. He liked to smoke and swing when the two of you broke into the playground together. He entertained your love of slides, monkey bars, and whatever other pieces of equipment they filled the playground with but swings were his favorite. They had been since fourth grade. The year after he met John B he met you. Not to say that you hadn’t been going to the exact same elementary school with him since you were six but he wasn’t exactly the best at paying attention and half the time his classes were a blur, as were the people in them. You weren’t memorable until fourth grade when the recess aid insisted that he let someone else use the swing. You had gotten on and he’d stood there pestering you about how long you would be the entire time you had your turn.

“You know like, how dust is 80% human skin or whatever.” You replied. All the blood was starting to rush to your head and you knew it was just a matter of time before you would have to dismount.

“That’s disgusting.”

“So no Doritos?”

“What about the tacos?” JJ asked, hoping down from his bar and bending to the side as if he was going to look at you upside down the way you were looking at him.

“What?”

“Can I still do the Doritos tacos?”

“No; no Doritos is no Doritos.” You replied.

“I’ll eat the person dust.” JJ replied, sounding sure of himself.

“You’re so gross.” You let your fingers brush the synthetic woodchips before reaching out to JJ, “help me up?”

JJ crouched down, pushing your back to sit you up on the bar, your head spinning a little as you slid off the bar and met the ground with your feet. JJ was quick to grab you, wrapping his arm around your waist and holding you against his side. Your balance was always off when you hung upside down like that and still you insisted on it.

You looked up at JJ as he surveyed the swing set on the other part of the playground, waiting for you to be stable enough to walk before he took on the swings. He looked so pretty at dusk, the sun setting made everything look bathed in reds and oranges and JJ especially looked sublime like that. “I love you.” You said, eyes tracing the lines of his face.

“What?” JJ looked down at you suddenly, eyebrows furrowed.

“Oh my god, did I just say that out loud?” You paled; you hadn’t seriously just told him you loved him while waiting for the blood rush to pass.

JJ pulled you further in, tucking you against his chest and kissing your forehead. You closed your eyes when his lips brushed your skin, trying to subside the sudden warmth of embarrassment from your face. He hadn’t let go of you or rejected you. Those were both good signs.

“We can mack on each other for like, the rest of our lives but we have too share an apartment with Pope or you can live on figure 8 forever but we can’t hang out ever again.” JJ asked.

You pulled away from him enough that you could tilt your head to look him in the eye. “I just told you I loved you and you’re hitting me with a ‘would you rather’? Kinda inopportune time babe.” You replied.

“So figure 8?” He asked, smiling at you.

“No,” you laughed, nudging him. “Who needs a fancy house? I’d much rather live with you and Pope for the rest of my life.”

“I love you too.” He said.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been in love with you my entire life,” JJ replied, “since the day I met you.”

“Yeah?” You smiled, pulling away from him to head toward the swings, “you have receipts on that Maybank?”

“You don’t trust my word?”

“After you told me you’d eat person dust and want to start a thrupple with me and Pope?” You asked, sitting on the swing. JJ came up behind you, hands grasping the chains and pulling you back against him. You straightened your legs so that you could hold yourself up.

“I do not want to start a thrupple with you and Pope.” JJ replied, leaning forward and kissing your cheek. “Pope would get way too jealous.”

You turned your head so that you could kiss him, “I can’t compete with Pope.”

“Don’t feed his ego.”

“So you’ve really loved me since fourth grade, cause that’s what you’re saying right? That you’ve loved me since fourth grade?” You asked, picking up your feet as JJ released the swing. He stayed behind you, pushing when you swung back toward him.

“Kindergarten.”

“What do you mean kindergarten?” You asked him, looking back.

“In kindergarten when you pretended to be a werewolf and bit my arm.” JJ replied, licking his lips and smiling at you.

“I wasn’t pretending...it was a very serious affliction.” You laughed. “I didn’t think you remembered.”

“How could I forget?” He said, catching your swing again and pulling you back, leaning forward to kiss you one more time. When the swing gave toward gravity he tripped forward a little, trying to chase it, still kissing you. You smiled into the kiss, twisting around and reaching up with one hand behind his neck to draw him closer.

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csykora · 4 years

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hockey, a primer

Hockey is a quick game to start watching. Fundamentally there’s a goalie guarding the net, two defensive players guarding the goalie, and three offensive forwards attacking the other team’s net.

Unlike normal sports, hockey players break the rules a lot. Common infractions include smacking another player with your stick, pretending they smacked you with their stick, poking them in the dick with your stick when you are not on the ice, licking them (yes we need this rule) and tripping them. This happens every couple minutes, and the player is punished by having to sit alone for a couple minutes while the teams continue to play with an uneven number of players.

This is called the man advantage, powerplay, or, regrettably, the PP for the team who didn’t do a crime, and the penalty kill for the guilty team. There aren’t a lot of set plays compared to something like football, and what strategy there is in the game depends on this. Listen closely and you will hear someone’s dad already screaming more information about special teams into your ear.

You do not need to know the names of the formations used in special teams. Just watch how the puck gets from one person to the next, or how it doesn’t, and you will start to see the important things.

Rosters

Each forward line has two wingers, who are expected to skate fast up and down the sides of the ice and take the most shots, and the center, who manages the middle, passing the puck between the others and directing them into the right series of positions so the puck can be bounced to where it needs to go: they’re the brains of the operation (with the goalie also using their unique view of the full rink to direct play by banging their stick and swearing at the players in front of them).

Sometimes multiple players who usually play the center position are put out at the same time, with some of them taking up the wing position. This strategy is called a ‘two-’ or ‘three-headed monster’ in the NHL, because a ‘natural center’ is thought to be a smarter strategy player.

Defense is organized in pairs, so one person takes each side. Compared to forwards who mostly skate...you know...defenders have to be able to skate equally well going forwards and backwards, which requires a different skating stride. Their main goal is to isolate and disrupt the other team’s forwards, by positioning their bodies in the ‘passing lane’ between two opposing players so they can’t pass to each other or in the shooting lane in front of a player so they can’t shoot, or by knocking the opponent out of position.

Often you’ll see one defender will tend to “stay at home” guarding the net while the other swings out wide or follows the forwards into the other team’s zone as a second wave of offense.

A team has enough to make three pairs of D and four lines of forwards, which are numbered. Flashy stars are expected to be in line 1 and 2 (the ‘top’), workmen in 3 and 4 (the ‘bottom six’), and by tradition the 4th line in particular are your rowdy boys who lay the most hits and start fights. Everyone knows those ranks are kind of imaginary, but players getting moved up or down the hierarchy gives us Drama. Hockey players mate for life, and usually play with the same D-partner or linemates, but they can also be swapped around into different combinations when the coach sees fit.

Structure

The NHL plays a bonkers number of games. Most years, the hockey season starts in the fall and grinds with games every other day or so through the winter until the players are all dehydrated and exhausted, at which point the playoffs start. The Stanley Cup playoffs are four rounds of best-of-seven elimination series, and it’s often described as the most intense championship in sports. This year, we’ve just wrapped up made-up qualifiers to pick the teams that will start the first round of the playoffs tomorrow.

Please follow a smarter blog than me for current updates on the North American women’s leagues. I am going to refer to the North American women’s game, but I’m not the best source on it.

The KHL and ZhWL play a slightly less bonkers number of games, but make up for it by being weird as shit and incorporate live music, even live-er pyrotechnics, and swords. You can buy access to games for about a cup of coffee.

The EIHL is in Britain, and I don’t know when they play but they do, so if you’re one of the British people who ask me this question, good luck

North America vs The World

International hockey is played on a larger and wider rink than North American hockey. More space means that passing accurately and skating efficiently become more important, and it’s statistically less likely that players will bump into each other, so hitting is less important than in North American men’s hockey. The greater width means that wingers in the Continental Hockey League (KHL) and other national leagues are expected to control a decent chunk of open ice, not just the lane along the boards, so they’re more like North American centers, running the “three-headed monster” play all the time.

When men’s Team Canada plays on international ice, they’re able to fill their roster with centers, bridging the two styles.

Overpassing

Overpassing is a buzzword used to critique both women’s hockey players and Russian men’s hockey players. In North American men’s hockey, there’s a principle that the person who carries the puck into the attacking zone should be the one to shoot it, or make at most one pass: passing back and forth in the offensive zone ‘wastes time’ and increases the risk that the defenders will intercept one of those passes and take possession.

But this is something Russian men’s players are actually taught to do. They are expected to be more accurate passers, so the risk of the pass being intercepted should be low anyway. Shooting is almost guaranteed to give up possession, after which the other team will have a chance to shoot and score on you…so why not keep passing it around we either have a perfect opening or we run down the clock?

Women’s hockey players are similarly good enough skaters (young girls often come into the sport with figure skating experience and they all receive a high level of skate training) and passers that they can hold possession. They are trained to be very aware of how their teammates are positioned, and so they will pass more in the zone.

Think of it like this: North American men think, “I gotta shoot the puck to score goals before the other guy smashes me and takes it and scores goals with it!”, women think, “I’ve got a 50/50 chance if I shoot, but my girl over there is 100%” and Russian men think, “Aw, you want this puck? You wanna shoot it and score goals with it? Okay…catch me first.”