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chaoticbardlady99 · 5 months

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She's My Religion (Part 1: She's Cold, She's Dark, She's Cynical) Astarion x F! Reader

Hello! I have been plagued with an idea! Enjoy! This will probably be a four part story, but I am not sure just yet!

Title from song “She’s My Religion” by Pale Waves

CW: Parental death, grief, murder, domestic violence, mentions of physical abuse, mentions of emotional abuse.

Synopsis- You are a paladin under the Oath of Vengeance. You escaped the noble life that was unwillingly thrust upon you. Now, on your way to kill your evil step-father while trying to find a solution for the parasite in your head- you find out he’s promised your hand in marriage to Lord Cazador Szarr and that he’s taken your mom’s life. Looking for some comfort- you go to Astarion, but you don’t hear the words you were hoping for.

*Gif does not belong to me- could not find original owner

Karlach whoops and cheers as she releases you from a rib crushing hug- Wyll and Gale are grinning from ear to ear. You are all elated for her that Dammon was able to figure out how to cool down her engine- even if temporarily.

You know that she doesn’t want to hear about the future and the harm not going back to Avernus will cause so you don’t say anything while Wyll tries to lecture her. You are barely listening as the two of them go back and forth, but when Wyll glances back at you with a look that screams, “Can you please help me out over here?”

You chuckle at your close friend’s distress and shake your head at him. Wyll adores Karlach- you know he would give her his own heart if he could. He just needs to let her come to her own decision- you’d like to think that Karlach might decide to go back until they can come up with a permanent solution. However, at the end of the day, it’s Karlach’s decision. You are just as unhappy with the impending doom your bubbly companion is facing, but that is not your weight to carry.

“Unfortunately Wyll, I am going to support whatever Karlach wants to do for as long as I can emotionally tolerate it,” you give Karlach a playful punch in the arm, “you’re not allowed to die on me, ya know?”

Karlach rolls her eyes and smiles- pulling you in for an awkward walking side hug.

“Don’t worry Soldier- I’m not planning on going anywhere.”

You all begin to head back to camp from Last Light Inn when Jaheira calls you from afar, waving you over. You look at your companions and they look back at you- equally as confused. You tell them that you will catch up with them in a little bit and they leave you there alone. Cautiously, you walk towards her- she did just threaten to kill you not even 72 hours ago and what an eventful 72 hours it has been.

You killed a devil, almost died killing that Devil, found out Astarion’s life is in far more danger than initially thought, watched Astarion convince a weird man to drink himself to death, watched an even weirder man be inhabited by a dead lady, fought shadows, and now, Karlach can hug people.

Life could not be any weirder, but you gladly welcome it over the mansion you had been trapped in after your mother married your step-father. The day you escaped from there had been bliss- despite how much you miss your mother. Your mother had been of noble human blood before she met your father (an elf). After one late night tryst and falling pregnant, her title had fallen significantly. She married your father and you had all lived happily together in Baldur’s Gate. You grew up poor, but Duke Ravenguard always tried to make sure you and your family had been taken care of. You grew up with Wyll Ravenguard and you have been tight knit friends almost your whole lives.

Until you were 14.

Count Bridril Von, a high Sorcerer, had not forgotten your mother nor her breaking her promise to marry him by becoming pregnant by another. After your father died, he found your mother and enchanted her to become a mindless puppet. She would break occasionally, but ultimately you were left to fend for yourself against your 9 step-siblings (5 girls, 4 boys) and Bridril Von- who enjoyed taking out all his anger and hatred for your father on you. The only times he would claim you as one of his own would be when you had competed in various competitions and won- outranking his sons. The publicity he got from having a little sharp shooter and for “raising his darling step-daughter after she so horribly lost her hero father” was incredible. You became a show pony- a pretty, malleable little thing that was forced to perform and excel so that she could be treated with basic respect.

The minute you were able to escape the Mansion from the Hells, you ran to the docks, bought a ticket to Silverymoon, took an Oath of Vengeance, and now you are here with an illithid parasite in your head. At first you had thought you were the unluckiest person in the world when you were kidnapped by a mind flayer, but your companions have quickly made the whole journey worthwhile- Astarion especially.

You had met him before in your previous life as a troublemaking bastard and you had had conversations before- nothing too crazy nor serious, just quips and flirting back and forth. Astarion had been at the mansion frequently or you at the palace because your oldest step-sister, Daisy Von, is (was?) due to marry Lord Cazador Szarr. It was no secret to anyone, not even Daisy, that Cazador wants to marry you due to your likeness of a long lost love of his, but you are not of royal blood. Cazador would lose his alliance with Bridril if he married his boorish, rebellious, and unwanted step-daughter- despite your many achievements. You were grateful. You didn’t want to marry the man and Daisy was foolishly smitten- she could have him for all you care. That was your mentality before you knew he was a Master Vampire.

Your family and Astarion’s ‘family’ spent a lot of time together. Astarion had become your escort around the palace grounds because Bridril did not want you to take the spotlight away from Daisy.

Originally, it had been Pale Petras, but you had unceremoniously kicked him in the balls after he had said something rather unbecoming towards you and had to be physically dragged away by Leon before he tried to kill you or worse. Astarion had immediately taken a liking to you for that alone.

When you had stumbled upon each other at the beach after the Nautiloid crash, it had been a little over two years since you had last seen each other. Without the watchful eyes of Cazador, your friendship and romantic relationship has blossomed.

You had been weary at first, worried that he was just getting close to you because he knew how much it would piss off Cazador if Astarion were to be with the one person Cazador could not have. Now, you are about 95 percent sure that isn’t the case, but you remain alert- just in case.

You are used to being used for an upperhand in the world and you hope everyday that you are more than an advantage against Cazador to him because he truly means everything to you.

Which is maybe why you are quite agitated with Jaheira taking precious minutes away from you that could be spent with your love. You offer her a smile as she holds out a letter.

“A letter? For me? Oh Jaheira, you shouldn’t have!”

Jaheira hides her amusement behind a scowl, “it came through here magically. Rolan was able to calm down the little portal it came flying through- I suggest waiting until you reach Baldur’s Gate to be sending and receiving mail.”

You apologize and walk towards camp, opening and reading the contents in the letter. The letter rips open your entire body and it feels like the ground is going to cave in. You read and reread the letter multiple times- standing between the edge of Last Light Inn and the edge of Camp, not even 5 feet away.

Tav,

My name is Mary, I was your mother’s lady in waiting. You were always so busy that we never got the opportunity to meet. I am sorry to tell you that I only have bad news.

The Count had received an offer from Lord Cazador Szarr two weeks ago regarding marrying you that he is not going to refuse- initially he was, but then you continued to not come home and he became bitter.

Cazador expressed urgency regarding getting you back to Baldur’s Gate. Bridril has hired mercenaries to hunt for you.

Bridril killed your mother- the whispers in the castle say it was not an easy or quick death. My understanding is that you took an Oath of Vengeance so I hope Bridril is on your list. Your mother was the kindest woman I have ever had the privilege of meeting.

I know she would want you to know that she loves you, is proud of you, is watching out for you, and knows you are off to do great things.

Keep vigilant and may Selune bless your path.

-Mary

No. This isn't happening to you. You are only days- maybe even a week or two away from going back home, killing Bridril, and freeing your mother. You were going to be a family again. You wanted to introduce her to your companions and buy a nice little home to live in with her like you used to when you were little. You were going to tell her all about your adventures, your time on the Pirate ship that took you to Silverymoon, your life there as a Paladin, and his whole fucking excursion.

She’s gone and the wail that threatens to crack open your chest is suffocating. You quickly walk to Astarion’s tent, where you have been sleeping most nights, and he’s not there. Of all the times you really need him to not be doing anything and yet! You shove the letter back in the envelope and absentmindedly throw it to another part of the tent- not looking and not caring. Your grief feels like it may kill you and you just need to be held- to know and feel like you aren’t completely alone in the world right now.

After a brief chat with Halsin, you discover Astarion is hanging out with Shadowheart behind her tent. You make haste that way- hoping they won’t be too mad that you are interrupting their wine and gossip time. You had gotten back earlier than anticipated and in other circumstances you might wait until he is done, but you aren’t in your right mind.

You approach the tent and hear them talking on the other side, facing the forest, and sitting on a log. The tears begin to manifest in your eyes as relief floods you- you are so close to feeling okay again.

“How bloody hard is it to nicely, lovingly tell someone that you’ve been deceiving them this whole time?”

You stop dead in your tracks.

No.

“Look, there is no good way to say it,” Shadowheart says, “you just need to own up to it and then be honest about all of it.”

“Oh yes because ‘I planned on seducing you, sleeping with you, and manipulating you from the start’ is such a great opener,” Astarion scoffs, “there has to be some other way to make it flow with the rest of it. A better way to tell her.”

“No need,” you speak up miserably, coming around the corner, “you just did. Wasn’t that hard was it?”

Astarion and Shadowheart look absolutely shell shocked to see you standing there. Astarion looks like he’s about to throw up as he gets up and looks at you softly, a pleading, panicked look in his eyes.

“Darling!” he says, getting up, laughing nervously“you’re back early. I- can we-”

“Whatever we are,” you say with a glare, tears now pouring and with as much hatred in your voice as you can muster, “or whatever you were pretending I was to you- it’s over.”

Astarion’s entire face falls while he’s staring at you and he looks like he might cry, he opens his mouth, “Darling, pl-”

Shadowheart looks like she is about to speak up for him too, but you are far too angry, far too hurt- far too lonely right now in the world to let yourself be tricked into staying with him. They are best friends, she’s probably in on it too.

“No! I hate you so much!,” the venom in your voice being watered down by your anguish, “I hate you more than I thought I could ever hate anyone- undead, dead, or alive! I trusted you and you used me for your own gain- so unkindly, go fuck yourself!”

You spin around on your heels, race over to your tent, and tie the flaps tightly shut. You slump to the ground and just sob- grabbing your mother’s old blanket that you had stolen before you left. You scream into it silently and all the pain in your body is threatening to make you burst apart at the seams. You wouldn’t be surprised if you did.

In less than an hour you have lost your mother, Astarion, and potentially your freedom. Astarion had used you to get one up on Cazador and he succeeded. Now that he knows what Cazador’s ritual is- he’s decided he’s done with you and every step you make has to be done cautiously because one slip up and you are going to be the consort to a fucking Master Vampire after fighting to avoid this for so long. All because Astarion just had to poke the bear.

Astarion signed your fate using your blood as ink.

Your throat is raw and your head is pounding by the time your lungs feel like they know how to properly breathe again. You hear someone knock on one of the wooden beams of your tent and you scoff.

“It’s just me Tav,” Wyll says softly, “can I come in.”

You get up and untie the tent flaps numbly. You look at Wyll, eyes puffy and red- your face streaked with tears. As Wyll walks into your tent, you get a glimpse of Astarion looking crestfallen as you invite Wyll in. You just scrunch your nose up in disgust at him before closing your tent.

Wyll is sitting down on your bedroll and you sit down right next to him- both of you looking at the ground. Wyll gently puts his hand on top of yours and smiles at you with his signature gentle, I’m here, grin.

“My mom’s dead, Wyll.”

“What?”

“Bridril killed her. She had snapped out of whatever hold he had on her when he agreed to marry me off to Cazador,” you choke out between sobs, “he killed her for trying to protect me. Now? I am officially going to be married off to a Master Vampire the minute I step foot in Baldur’s Gate if Bridril has his way.”

“Oh Tav…”

“And then! To make matters even worse?,” you look at him with disbelief and your voice sounds borderline hysterical now, “I overheard Astarion and Shadowheart prepping his ‘I’ve been using you this whole time and I’m ready to break-up’ speech. He was trying to figure out how to be nice about it.”

Wyll stares at you with bewilderment. He is absolutely silent as you break down sobbing again, but he pulls you into him and you put your head on his shoulder.

“I fe-feel so alone,” you manage to say coherently, “and so frightened.”

“I know you do my dear friend,” Wyll strokes your hair as make a mess of his shirt, “but you have Karlach, Gale, Lae’zel, Halsin, Scratch, and even an Owlbear Cub for Gods sake!”

You smile at the emphasis on your rather dangerous furry friend. Wyll had asked what you were going to do with him when you got back to Baldur’s Gate and when you didn’t have a plan- both of you were a little horrified. You both decided to send it to Daisy as an engagement present once it’s big enough to stomp on Cazador and Daisy mid-wedding.

“And besides,” Wyll says, “you’re my closest friend. I won’t allow you to be alone nor face this alone. I’m probably the best monster hunter you know.”

“You are also the only monster hunter I know.”

Wyll rolls his eyes and smiles brightly at you, “That’s besides the point, but I am going to let you sleep. You look like you need it.”

Wyll places a soft kiss on your forehead before he leaves your tent.

“Thank you Wyll.”

He turns around and smiles, “Any time Tav.”

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junosmindpalace · 3 months

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Hi, I read your senku fluffy alphabet and wondered if you could make one with Nanami sai. There is not much content about him. You can ignore the request if it's not to your liking.

a/n: thank you for your request! i haven’t read the manga in a while so my characterization might be a little off…i’m very sorry if i’m missing/forgetting any details!

( A ) AFFECTION — how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?

sai mostly shows his affection through his actions; paying attention to your interests and engaging with them, offering support when doing something, asking how are you, and overall just doing his best to take care of and look after you. he’s not big on physical affection, especially pda, but even though he might initially shy away from it, give him some time, and he’ll probably come to enjoy some of it a fair amount.

if i were to associate him with a love language, it would probably be acts of service. it's just the way i believe he'd want others to care for him, which is why he does the same for you.

( B ) BEST FRIEND — what would they be like as a best friend? how would the friendship start?

the friendship would probably start over a mutual interest! especially if you take an interest in his work and hobbies. he may be a little nervous to open up about it, but just push through with enthusiasm and eventually he gets even more passionate than you initially do.

he’s the kind of friend you always go to first to share something with, and vice versa. he’s always dropping by to update you on the things going on in his life and with his hobbies, casually ranting as you go about your day. it’s the same with you. he’s also a very dependable friend who’s willingly to do pretty much anything with or for you with a bit of persuading. the type to always come through with favours, or help you work through difficulties in your own day to day tasks.

especially since he can be a pretty nervous person, having another like-minded friend in situations that make you feel the same way helps alleviate that pressure and make you feel less alone, helping you shoulder that weight.

( C ) CUDDLES — do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?

i don’t think he adores it—i think he values his space, especially if he’s trying to do something like rest, and having someone get into his bubble would stress him out—but he isn’t entirely opposed to it. he’s a little shy about it, having zero clue where to place his hands or legs at first, but with some experience, he doesn’t fight back when you suddenly collapse against him, wrapping an arm around your waist or behind your head, ever so slightly securing you closer against him.

( D ) DOMESTIC — do they want to settle down? how are they at cooking and cleaning?

the idea of it both makes him giddy and stresses him out. it just seems like such a large responsibility, such a big step in your relationship! pretty much a bit into your dating he’s figured he’d spend the rest of his life with you, so no problems from him there. i'm stereotyping a little with this, but i believe he isn’t the best at chores, especially cooking, probably accustomed to his meals being prepped by someone else or mostly having take out in india, and considering the organized mess he has in his office when he works, it’s safe to say he probably has a little habit of leaving things messy as well.

( E ) ENDING — if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?

it really depends on the circumstance. i think typically, if sai had felt it was long time coming, he’d plan for a while how to break the news gently, but firmly. he’d very obviously plan to do it privately, and would probably initially start off nervous before he kind of gives you a speech of sorts explaining why the relationship needs to end. it’s obviously hurtful, but you can see that he genuinely does his best to minimize the pain that might come out of it. in a much harsher case, he might just blurt it out at one point, again, nervous (and horrified by his straightforwardness), but in the same way firm in giving you an explanation at the very least.

( F ) FIANCÉ — how do they feel about commitment? how quick would they want to get married?

like a lot of the initial relationship stuff, and similarly to settling down, i think the idea of commitment makes him a little nervous just because of how much its emphasised on being life-changing and a little stressful. but at the same time, he finds its something he really wouldn’t mind if it was with the right person, maybe even finding it quite romantic. he’s definitely not the type to rush into marriage by any means, but if he truly finds himself wholeheartedly in love and comfortable with his partner, he’d probably even like the idea of spending the rest of his life with them.

( G ) GENTLE — how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?

i think, both physically and emotionally, he’s very gentle, and in ways i think it’s because it’s how he wishes for himself to be treated. he often had to put up with the demands of his family and ryusui’s larger than life desires, so he didn’t get very much of that. so of course, he’s going to treat you in the same way he’s always wanted to be treated, because he understands how unpleasant it can be to come off sort of harsh or insensitive, even if there isn't any malicious intent behind it.

( H ) HUGS — do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?

he’s mostly a casual hugger if he ever does, like side hugs where he brings you close to his side and rubs a hand up and down your arm. he’s not big on it, but he does do it sometimes, especially if he sees you’re down about something. you’d probably have to be the one to initiate a lot of them, especially the more emotional, full on wrapping yourselves around one another kind of hugs, because they fluster him a little at first. you can notice in the way he relaxes with experience that he melts into it quick.

( I ) I LOVE YOU — how fast do they say the L-word?

probably a while. again, he’s stressed over when is the appropriate time to say the word, if what he actually feels for you is love, so he overthinks it big time. if you’re the type to say it early, i feel he wouldn’t immediately respond the same way back. he’d have to think on it, again, like a lot of things initially, is maybe is a little nervous. but if the two of you had been together for a while and you confess to it first, he’ll most likely say it back. in both cases, however, you would have to say it first.

( J ) JEALOUSY — how jealous do they get? what do they do when they’re jealous?

perhaps becomes a little jealous when you agree with someone he disagrees with, or doesn’t like in general. despite his overall shyness in your relationship, i don’t think it’s even so intense that it gets to a point where he’ll melt down over the possibility of someone stealing you away from him when he feels jealous. i think generally it’s just an irritation, possibly insecure thing that’s sort of fleeting. it’s just that he wants to be the one to be on the same page as you, not somebody else, especially not someone he dislikes.

he fights you a little when he gets jealous in this way and you point it out, but not a real full out fight. more so those comedic types where he gets outwardly irritated over something seemingly trivial and it makes you laugh. typically though, a little bit of coaxing with reassuring words and kisses are enough to get him to break his “jealous” state.

( K ) KISSES — what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?

most of the time they’re shy but sweet, no matter how much time passes in your relationship. they’re not too quick no matter where he kisses you, always lingering on your lips or temple or cheek for just a brief moment longer before pulling away; it’s what makes his kisses so endearing.

his favorite place to kiss you would probably be somewhere you can’t directly see his face, like the crown of your head or behind your neck when he rests his head in the crook of your neck, just to take a little bit of the pressure off. i think he would like to be kissed in similar spots for the same reason, just so you can’t see the way he gets flustered or cheesy and starstruck over it. especially if you tease him for it, he gets all defensive.

( L ) LITTLE ONES — how are they around children?

nervous as hell. he is terrified they won’t like him, might make fun of him, or torment him. he’s also afraid he might do something to accidentally hurt them, whether physically or offend them by some means. but when he gets familiar with them and show him they aren’t so bad, he relaxes and finds them endearing, eagerly joining in whatever antics they get up to (which they take full advantage of, and exhaust his energy).

( M ) MORNING — how are mornings spent with them?

i think they’re fairly productive. probably not the type to lounge around in bed, especially as a professor, even on his off days, so the both of you are doing one thing or another, either separate things in each other’s company, or the same thing together.

you don’t always jump straight into the days endeavours, however. sometimes morning productivity is just cleaning up a little and having a nice breakfast together, whether you decide to cook together or go out someplace nice (the latter typically tends to be the case since, again, he's not the best cook). either way, he can be a nice alarm for you, and help you establish a more productive routine if you don’t have one yourself when you start dating.

( N ) NIGHT — how are nights spent with them?

similarly to mornings, i think they’re also quite productive. he won’t rope you into any of his evening activities if you don’t want to, however, and it’s typically the evening that sai spends catching up on work he needs to do or planning what he needs to tend to the next day independently. i don’t think he minds too much if you were join him, finding you pleasant company, especially if, similar to the mornings, you just work on your own things independently while in each other’s presence. he finds it a good way to wind down.

( O ) OPEN — when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly.

everything at once guy, i strongly believe this, even without the evidence from the manga. he withholds and withholds and sort of lets it fester until something literally forces him out of his shell or something triggers a snap in his brain that has him tumbling it all out. not just the things about himself, but all the emotions he harbours toward those things, and it also tells you how passionately he feels about said things.

( P ) PATIENCE — how easily angered are they?

to strangers he doesn’t know very well, he’s mostly nervous, but if it’s people he is familiar with, like his brother, he’s more prone to getting irritated with them faster. with you, however, it goes back and forth between a mix of both. as he’s sort of a naturally nervous person, those insecurities he feels toward himself and his own feelings of inadequacy can be projected through irritation onto you. he’s rarely the type to get viscerally angry with you, however. it’s mostly just frustration, with an outburst being pretty rare.

( Q ) QUIZZES — how much would they remember about you? do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or do they kind of forget everything?

even though he has an insane memory and knack for keeping up with multiple, lengthy, complicated streams of thoughts, he is terrible when it comes to memorizing small details about you. it’s not because hes incapable of it or because he doesn’t pay attention to you, but because he self sabotages. truly, he does know all the small details, but his anxiety casts doubt on his knowledge, and he overthinks them. so then he just ends up confusing himself and all together jumbling up info. he gets it down most of the time, though. he just needs to calm himself down.

( R ) REMEMBER — what is their favourite moment in your relationship?

when you dropped by his lecture room late after the work day had ended and way past his teaching time. some time into the night, he had started attempting to teach you his lessons after you examined them over your shoulder from his desk. you sat in a front row seat as sai wrote formulas and calculations on the whiteboard, the two of you laughing as your questions and answers became increasingly absurd as you tried to wrap your head around what has always come so naturally to him.

in the end however, you managed to grasp onto a couple of the key ideas he explained, which excited him greatly, and led to you playfully complimenting what an excellent professor you had, and how you were ready to take him home. it was an unexpectedly fun evening, and he still sometimes chuckles thinking about it when he finds himself staying overtime alone in the classroom.

( S ) SECURITY — how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?

he's probably fairly protective. he protects you by standing up for you, voicing when he feels that you’re uncomfortable with something or does his best to remove you from any frustrating or nerve wrecking situations. i've said before that he’d like to be protected in the same way, and it’s why he does it for you. he’s always wanted to speak up against his brothers eccentric attitude and people using him for their own gains, but struggled to find the words or courage, so to have someone there to step in and back him up, give him a voice, means so much.

( T ) TRY — how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?

too much /j. but really, again, he overthinks. he goes through what he things you’d enjoy most, what would be the most appropriate depending on the circumstance, thinking back as to if he’s already given you similar gifts or if he’s taken you on similar dates. he’s pulling alll the stops to make everything feel special. the same goes with everyday tasks, but there’s less pressure on him especially when he grows accustomed to the nature of your relationship, so it’s not as meticulous, but it’s still thoughtful.

( U ) UGLY — what would be some bad habits of theirs?

his anxiety. not only does his own constant stress about things sometimes rub off, but it also makes him defensive sometimes. there’s varying levels to it, but when it’s at its worst, to the point where he’s completely convinced someone is out to get him or is being unreasonable, it’s hard to properly talk to him until he’s calmed down.

( V ) VANITY — how concerned are they with their looks?

just enough to come off as presentable. it’s not the first or second or third thing on his list of things to stress over. perhaps a byproduct of his upbringing, self maintenance and presentability come sort of naturally to him, but that doesn’t mean he has his miss days or typically grieves over looking a certain way unless its completely ridiculous or someone ridicules him for it. even then, he probably wouldn’t put too much effort into changing it.

( W ) WHOLE — would they feel incomplete without you?

while he would like to be around you as much as possible if he can help it, i don’t think he’d necessarily feel incomplete if he didn’t have you by his side. he has his own passions and life he’s created for himself, for the most part pretty independently from the rest of his family, so that sort of gives puts into perspective how well he manages on his own. that said, he does feel more content and at peace with himself and others with you in his life, and would probably be unable to replicate that same sense of comfort with anything or anyone else.

( X ) XTRA — a random headcanon for them!

sort of based off an observation written in the wiki, but sai is a pretty habitual person. he doesn’t go overboard with it, but he’s pretty unconsciously routinely and somewhat predictable. he doesn’t like to stray too off schedule if he has one and if he can help it, and has things that, while they may not have a specific time slot in which he’s to do them, has repetitive things he does, like visit a cafe he likes or spend time in a classroom simply working, or devoting some of his time to a specific task.

( Y ) YUCK — what are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?

already has been clearly stated in the manga, but doesn’t like when he’s used for someone else’s ends. if you solely take an interest in him due to his work and show little to no interest to actually get to know him or do something with him, he’s off put and irritated. just generally being exploited is off putting (as it would be for anyone) and hard to redeem yourself from.

( Z ) ZZZ — what are their sleep habits?

i can see him as both a very neat but also very wild sleeper; perhaps switching back and forth. some nights he sleeps peacefully, blanket casually thrown around his back as his chest rises up and down rhythmically, gently and free of errancies…and then other times he’s star-fishing with his mouth open and the blanket haphazardly splayed over him. good luck being anywhere near him when he’s like this (though i feel subconsciously, he might retreat into himself a bit more if he were to be sharing a sleeping space, but once he gets extremely comfortable, he allows himself to let loose).

see the masterlist for my dr stone works here. <3

#three requests in a row?! this is impressive for me #i've gotten a couple people asking for sai content #so here's this!#dr stone x reader #dr stone fluff #dr stone oneshot #dcst fluff #dcst x reader #dcst oneshot #sai nanami x reader #sai nanami fluff #sai nanami oneshot #nanami sai x reder #nanami sai fluff #nanami sai oneshot

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nixytea · 2 years

Text

[☂︎] — study date w/ jungwon

synopsis: a study date with jungwon at the library, enough said. pre-relationship where you’re still testing out the waters. (w/c: 937)

“i can’t do this.”

“oh yes you can.”

“no, no jungwon. i physically, mentally, emotionally cannot do this. not today, my friend.”

jungwon stares at you, the deadpan look he gives you enough to send a chill through your bones. “i’m here for a reason, y/n. want to remind me again?”

you mumble out a sulky reply, but jungwon is not satisfied by that. “say it louder.”

“fine. we’re here because i can’t memorise atomic structure for the life of me.”

“that’s right, now look at the question again. come on, you’re not even past page three, and there’s like, twenty of these.” he covers a line at the top of the page with his hand. “explain, in terms of atomic structure, why metals can conduct electricity.”

you stare at the notes in front of you for one beat. two beats. “i…because, um. i don’t know?” you scratch your head, sheepishly looking back up at him. immediately you wish you didn’t, because the barely-concealed mixture of horror and disappointment on his face takes a chunk off your soul with each second you look at it.

how did you land yourself here, in a freezing public library, with your friend-turned-crush seated opposite you? well, it’s simple. you are usually a hardworking student who absorbs material quickly, but somehow the concept of atoms just…escapes you. for goodness’ sake, your dream job has nothing to do with chemistry. and just your luck, yang jungwon has volunteered to tutor you on this subject, while you coach him in math (his trigonometric graphs look like lumpy molehills if you have to be honest).

well, it’s not really your fault, is it? how are you supposed to memorise the structure of graphite when the object of your affection is right across you? with his long fingers flying across the keyboard, cute features scrunched up in concentration, there is absolutely no way you are getting in anything chemistry-related.

he seems to notice this too, as he sighs, shaking his head fondly. “if you can focus for the next hour, i’ll buy you bubble tea after this.”

you instantly perk up. “the hot one? with extra milk?”

his disgust is apparent, but he swallows it back down anyway, a convincing smile surfacing. “sure, but you have to get this chapter down.”

no problem.” with renewed energy, you pick up your pen and begin to copy down the line a few times on rough paper. the prospect of free boba after a gruelling study session hypes you up. if there’s one thing in life that motivates you, it’s hot bubble tea.

unbeknownst to you, jungwon is a little distracted too. entranced by your adorable passion for boba tea, as well as the sudden intensity you have towards your least favourite chemistry topic, he can’t help himself. what is he supposed to do, not watch you be the most lovable human in his eyes?

you glance up from your notes, and he immediately turns away, dimples cheeks dusted a light pink as he realises he’s been caught. “what’re you doing?”

his blush deepens at your question, biting his lips as he tries to hold back his nervous smile. “nothing, just wondering how i could get confessed to by someone like you.”

ah. you and jungwon had been deskmates since the beginning of the year. bonded by the shared frustration over your studies, especially the complexities of the concept of orbitals, a friendship was formed quickly. over time, the feelings between you had blossomed into something a little…different. it had taken months before your friend’s persuasion to just tell him had an effect. less than a week prior to today’s meeting, you’d asked him to go to the rooftop, where you’d made known your feelings for him. and because yang jungwon is a sensible boy who owns more braincells than the average person, he all but collapsed at your confession.

you’d agreed to take things slowly, more than content to wait for jungwon’s confident reply. until then, you and him would still hang out. like today.

jungwon shuts his eyes, a wistful glint in his eyes as he gazes at you so tenderly you feel as if you might cry on the spot. “let’s talk about it later, over our bubble tea. i’ve kept you waiting long enough.” you’d be blind to not notice that jungwon does return your feelings, but you still want to hear it from him properly.

“okay,” you muse. a light pierces through the overcast sky, and you peer out the window. the glass panels serve as a divider between you and the rapidly falling drops of rain. coupled with the quietness of the library, the effect of the atmosphere has you relaxing slightly. jungwon’s fluffy jacket around your shoulders has never felt cosier. boring as studying may be, you want to stay in this moment forever, basking in the feeling of a pause button that allows you to enjoy the presence of your companion.

jungwon taps your wrist gently. “looks like it’s raining. there isn’t a sheltered walkway between the mall and the library. why don’t we stay a little longer till it gets lighter?” there’s an unmistakable double meaning in his words, and his uncertain expression reflects it tenfold.

you return his smile with one of your own, a silent agreement exchanged between the two of you without you even having to say a word. and so you carry on, the soothing scratch of your pens and the steady tapping of the drizzle outside filling the comfortable silence. with your favourite person by your side, you couldn’t wish for anything more.

a/n: inspired by my japanese listening comprehension in class, as well as that pic of won above :DD it’s cute and i’m whipped for rainy days, no explanation required right? as we all know real life relationships need more than just an “i like u and u like me”, and there’s a sense of responsibility and commitment that has to be there. i just felt like jungwon would be someone who emphasises the importance of taking things slowly before entering a relationship and making things official. so yes, in other words this is my interpretation of how to get urself an s/o in the form of a self-indulgent fic. enjoy!

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itsmymeaningoflife · 9 months

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If you're still interested in answers to your twd shipping post, I just finished the series :D Feel free to ignore, this got really long.

(And just a heads up, any time I say "Daryl is..." I mean that I hc him that way. Just so it doesn't come across that I'm arguing that anything I say is canon or not. xD)

I'm a donnie/conyl shipper and I am totally pleased with the state of Daryl's relationships by the end. Daryl is someone who takes his time comfortably letting people into his heart. The pace he and Connie are moving felt good to me! While the self-indulgent part of me would have loved more for them (at least Connie also seeing him off or slightly more physical affection), I didn't need a fully established relationship between them yet. I see it as something that is there, but still blossoming as they're also navigating their way through own personal paths in life.

It took 10+ years for him to tell Carol he loved her and she is an extremely important person to him. I don't think it's weird if he and Connie aren't quite there yet.

That, and I personally hc Daryl as not a very romantic person in general. I don't think he's going to be super mushy or deep kiss in public. He's not one to long for candle lit dinners or walks on the beach, ahaha. This also goes had in hand with my hc that's there's some gray romantic/sexual or demi romantic/sexual thing going on with Daryl. I hc the way he feels, expresses, and engages with people relationship-wise is pretty different from mainstream folks.

(So when I'm in the mood, I literally feel comfortable hc'ing that he and Connie ARE together in the epilogue scene and they just didn't express their reunion with any big grand gesture because they draw most of their joy from casual physical affection and simply being around each other.)

The other complicated half of the answer is that I also see Daryl and Carol as sort of... platonic life partners? So to me, they kind of ARE together, just not in the traditional romantic and/or sexual way? Whereas I enjoy Daryl and Connie having a bit more of that romantic interest in each other.

And as someone who connects very strongly to deep, intimate, polyamorous/non-monogamous relationships, I have no problem shipping Carol with Ezekiel romantically, Daryl with Connie romantically, and then Daryl and Carol in an equally important but different dynamic relationship that includes this true, deep, powerful platonic love.

And media almost never gives us relationships like Daryl and Carol that are platonic, so I just adore them that way. It's so satisfying for me seeing a man and a woman so close who aren't romantically involved. I LOVE PLATONIC 'I LOVE YOU'S THEY MAKE ME SO HAPPY.

TWD often comments on not being restricted by how the old world expected life to work, and I think that can go for relationships too. The dynamic that Daryl and Connie and Carol and whoever else have don't have to fall in neat little boxes they way society used to dictate. I love it being fluid and open and comfortable without a need for jealousy or labels.

And this is only the tip of the iceberg for me when it comes to talking about these guys, but I'm trying to keep it concise as possible. xD

So, I think your post was asking about what less ideal state shippers prefer, but personally, I don't feel I like lost anything. Who knows what's to come with the spin off, but as of the twd finale right now, I don't feel like they ditched or abandoned Daryl and Connie and I wouldn't give up Daryl and Carol's friendship for the WORLD. They're both super important to me. :D

And I left behind ship wars back when I was 13, so no matter what does happen in the new spin-off, I'm going to be in my happy little twd bubble off to the side shipping these characters in the way that brings me the most joy.

While I’m not really engaging with this part of the fandom (‘shipping wars’) anymore since the show has ended, I think that this is a really interesting take and I’m very grateful you took the time in writing out this ask, thank you.

You make some very interesting points. The one thing I absolutely agree on is the asexual Daryl hc. I’ve always been a big big big supporter of asexual Daryl.

I’m glad you’ve watvhed this show tho, and I’m glad that you, a donnie shipper, can also appreciate the profoundly deep connection between Daryl and Carol. A lot (not all, but a good chunk) of donnie shippers like to diminish their bond in favour of their ship. So thank you for that.

But one thing I will have to “call you out” on (I’m sorry for the phrasing I really don’t mean it in a harsh way hahah) is the “Daryl isnt one to long for candle lit dinners” line… because this

is a very treasured moment in the Caryl fandom. Daryl being the only person Carol let in (both physically and emotionally) after she pulled away from the group, and Daryl asking “if [he] has to be a king to get some food around here” is such a beautiful scene.

That and in s11 he asks Carol to meet him for lunch, and when Carol suggests the diner, he tells her “it’s a date” … so like… he does, and has been involved in asking people (Carol) on dinner dates

I will post this ask as I think people will want to see this take and maybe chime in on some points better than I can.

To anyone replying to this person- be kind and be respectful. I’ll be monitoring comments and anyone being hateful will be removed. It will not be tolerated. People can have opposing opinions and still have respectful discussions about it.

#caryl #twd

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a-weird-writer · 2 years

Note

I mean, who doesn't simp for that chaotic overdramatic dude at least a little bit? His sadistic tendencies just add to the "villain will sacrifice the world to save you" vibe, always being his priority, second only to his master. But if we are his master, then...😏

Right? Such a dream boat, what a chaos lad.

Diablo will gladly burn nations for his lord.

How far will he go? Rimuru knows, and Diablo himself knows as well. What he will sacrifice to carry out loyalties and prove further his devotion to Rimuru isn't a mystery, as Diablo isn't afraid to make it apparent or as crystal clear as need be. An apex predator with the clear cover of a demonic gentleman and butler, with a lot darker mystery bubbling under the waves of his sea, aura and overall actions. One should never lower their guard around Diablo, as Benimaru himself points out to his lord. Honestly Diablo is really messed up, Noir was even more so.

Is Diablo himself if not?

Diablo is clearly desperate to be useful, and even more determined to not lose more than what he had. Serve and protect what he deems perfect and precious. He wants orders, longs to excel in usefulness. Because what is Diablo without power? Without a source of pride? Without purpose and a strive for change? Emotions and connections are powerful stuff, as is his eternal loyalty to his master. A butler-the ultimate fiend-hurries to answer his lord's beck and call, never anything less. Done in earnest with elegance, does what he does to tidy. If you're his master, Diablo strives to deliver perfection. He prides himself in returning pass then exceptional results, prove his worth and power. The master, the only one worthy of his vast demonic strength and knowledge, deserves no less. So, perfection is what you will get.

Cut and clear, you'll get it. One way or another.

Shit is finished, no parades with a point across. Countries will bow their knees to his beloved master, fear their power and shiver. Promise their devotion, bestow the respect the great master obviously deserves.

One of the many things I adore about Diablo; he isn't blind to what nor whom he is. In the book especially. He owns up to it, sometimes casting aside his own ambitions; admitting flaws and correcting mistakes as usual mature adults do. Even such an incredibly powerful being like Diablo isn't immune to the wrathful erosion of time, theres always room for growth and change in life, his contract with Rimuru insights it. Give criticism and Diablo may even nod along, no disagreement or denial. Callous natured, clean and mean in carrying out his duties. Rough, tough and shameless to show such.

In the manga, its clear as well. The violence is shown for what it is, Diablo isn't a person for the lighthearted, the evil shows and the darkness follows. Reasons or no reasons, morals or no morals, serious or not serious. Blood, trauma, war; hits hard like it should. Reflected emotionally and physically, from interesting perspectives, even the more humorous ones aren't totally stepped over.

Rimuru's whole main character arc is how he deals with his inhuman side and how he approaches others about it, how he uses his new self to conquer the struggles of a new monstrous life far away from his human one with his allies.

#ask #anon #anonymous #diablo #noir #that time i got reincarnated as a slime #ttigraas #here have a rant about how much fun i have reading this fucking manga #and learning the chara lore and shit

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levi-my-beloved · 3 years

Note

Heya! Your requests are open so i hope you don't mind my ask! And it's no pressure, take your time and if your uncomfy with this then pls ignore ❤

Ive always imagined me ( as in the reader) being affectionate and really physical with levi, showering him with loads of kisses and hugs and words of affirmation. And ofc he's not to type to reciprocate it the same way, and it's completely understandable! But sometimes it's just hard to be on the giving end. Levi shows his love thru actions and acts of service yes. But sometimes the reader craves to be loved like she loves him. How would she confront Levi about this when he asks her why she's on the verge of tears when he sees her alone crawled up like a ball in the bed? And how'd he comfort her? I hope it's not too much for you, and again if your not comfortable with this ask then don't mind me!! I completely understand! And thank you so much for reading thru this rollercoaster of emotions😭💗

To Have and To Hold

Pairing: Levi x Reader

Word Count: 4.8K

Warnings: none

A/N: Of course anon! I'm so sorry this took so long, but please this request appeals my love of hurt/comfort it was such a sweet idea! I hope this is what you had in mind ^-^

You weren’t sure whether it came from your childhood, or whether you were just born this way, but showering the people around you with physical affection and words of affirmation was how you demonstrated your affection. You were the first to pull someone into a bear hug, the first to grab someone’s hand, the first to plant a kiss on someone’s cheek. The first to say “Well done!” or “I’m proud of you!”. The first to compliment someone on their appearance, and always the one to say “I love you.”. That was who you are. You felt unfulfilled if you hadn’t made somebody’s day brighter with some form of physical contact or verbal praise. And the smiles you left on the brightened faces of your comrades certainly attracted attention.

Like a moth to a flame, Levi was drawn to your bubbly aura. It was a stark contrast to his own pessimistic stoicism, and you were the ray of sunshine he subconsciously craved during his endless days of overcast grey, but he couldn’t figure out for the life of him why he, of all people, wanted to be around you, of all people. He couldn’t figure out why his heart beat a little faster at your smile. Why he couldn’t seem to string a single sentence together in your presence.

He once overheard you ask Hange if he was just a really quiet guy, something they barked a sharp laugh at and told you he was usually the first one to make snarky, sarcastic remarks as soon as the opportunity arose. It left you with an adorably perplexed expression, and a smug, smirking scientist by your side. He cursed Hange for their superior knowledge and perceptive eye, but it brought you to his office one evening, so they couldn’t be all that bad.

“Enter.” the neutral faced captain tried to calm his stuttering heart as you swiftly clicked the door closed behind you. He briefly wondered how you always managed to carry such a serene expression, no matter the situation. You could be galloping hell for leather from the scene of a soldier massacre and you’d still have a determined, collected expression. It was a gift, he decided.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Captain, but I just wanted to ask if you were okay?” Well, that certainly caught him off guard. Okay? What did you mean by that? He realised he must have made that expression out loud, because your face blossomed with an earnest smile, eyes sparkling even in the low light. “I mean, I’m under the impression that you may not like me very much, and I just wanted to clear any bad air there may be. Our squads often train together, so I don’t really want there to be any sort of animosity,” your smile turned a little sheepish. Though you weren’t afraid of any form of confrontation, the truth was you wanted him to like you. Because you liked him. Quite a-fucking-lot.

Levi’s expression of confusion dropped to one of mistaken shock. How the hell you came to that conclusion, he had no idea. But the situation was becoming more and more awkward the longer he stayed silent. You began to shift under his gaze as he struggled to school it, eyes glancing around the room as you waited for some sort of response, or even any indication he had in fact, heard what you’d said. However no such thing came your way, and so you attempted to break the quiet. “R-right, okay…? I think. I don’t really– I can’t really do much with silence, Captain… But! I’m glad you don’t, uh, hate me? I think?” you squinted, as if trying to read a book from a distance. As if trying to decipher some stupidly intricate code from the other side of the room. And yet his expression remained unchanging, and you certainly weren’t going to hang around for when it resumed its usual stormy pout.

With an awkward nod, you turned on your heel, wondering what the hell just happened until your hand grasped the doorknob and he stood up abruptly, stopping you in your tracks.

“I-It’s Levi.” what, the everloving fuck, was he doing? He’d never been caught with his guard down like this before. He’d never stumbled over his words before. He’d never been completely and utterly speechless, all and any brain activity having simply ceased for a solid six minutes. You must think he was incredibly strange. But your face broke out into a smile again as you breathed a chuckle, the simple sound releasing thousands of butterflies within his stomach.

“Right… I know,” you bit your tongue, trying so hard to contain your amusement as he told you something you were already fully aware of. As if he couldn’t be anymore endearing to you, you realised you’d just taken a peak at a side of him you were certain nobody had seen before. Not even the Commander or Hange.

“I uh,” –he cleared his throat, hoping it would stave off some of these relentless nerves– “I mean, to you. It’s, uh, it’s Levi. To you. That’s what you can... uhm, yeah. You can call me Levi.” you couldn’t see how his fingers fiddled nervously as he’d managed to hide them behind his back when he stood, desperate, silver eyes searching for some sort of positive reaction from you as he tried to wade through the torrent of whirling emotions in his mind. He was always known for keeping his feelings behind the blacked out windows of his eyes, so for someone to peer right through was an uncomfortable, yet strangely relieving experience.

“Well, in that case, goodnight Levi,” your irises flickered from the floor up to his almost hopeful face. It was a look you’d never seen on him before, and yet something you couldn’t help but want much more of. Though he still looked tense, it was a completely different kind of tension. Instead of holding back his usual sorrow and guilt, you now realised he was holding back nerves, and possible excitement.

With a soft smile and a more definite nod of your head, you twisted the doorknob and left his office. A mixture of relief and embarrassment flooded the poor ravenette’s swirling brain as he exhaled a breath.

Pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, Levi reflected on the absolute clusterfuck of a conversation he’d just tried to engage in, and found his stomach twisting with something unfamiliar. Until it dropped entirely. For the first time in years, Levi was experiencing regret.

“Shit,” he swore under his breath, striding around his desk and making a beeline for the door, Levi almost tore it off its hinges as he called your name down the hall, watching as you stopped and turned, his own hopeful glint reflecting in your eyes, your head cocking to the side with intrigue. Levi stepped back into his office, a silent invite,and you tried to keep the spring in your step from showing as you all but skipped back to the doorway, and found him sweetly smiling at your own attempt at being casual when you realised he was in fact, still watching you.

“I don’t hate you,” was the first thing he said as he shut the door, once again confining the two of you within an enclosed space. “Quite the opposite, actually, I uh…” Levi’s quiet tone trailed off, and only now you were in closer proximity could you see the rose tinted blush saturating his cheeks, adorning them with the sweetest of colour you couldn’t help but reflect. “Actually I uh… Fuck, i’m not very, uhm, you know, good at uh… this,” you watched his gesture to nothing in particular, once again having to bite your tongue to contain your smile of adoration.

Levi was too distracted trying to find the right words to notice you stepping closer. Your hand on his shoulder, however, was a completely different matter altogether. His entire body tensed, mind falling into a state of shock as he was left paralysed by your palm. Wide, blue flecked eyes stayed unblinking as you gently leaned in to brush your lips against his cheek. For you, the gesture was an easy one. Something you’d given to many friends and comrades previously. And though this meant more to you because you never even dreamed of kissing Levi on the cheek, your own surprise was a molehill in comparison to the mountain range of astoundment within Levi’s dumbfounded brain.

“Then it’s a good job I am,” you respectfully stepped back, removing your touch from his body and leaving him craving so much more, yet too afraid to act on it. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Levi,” your heart leapt at the second use of his name, knowing you’d been given explicit permission by the man himself. No, that wasn’t why your heart was leaping.

Your heart was leaping, because Levi Ackerman liked you back.

That was three months ago now. It had taken three weeks of tea dates, trips to the city, late night paperwork sessions and multiple, spontaneous trail rides for Levi to officially stumble through asking you to be his partner. Though you both slightly cringed at the word, thinking it was a little too formal for what the two of you had, you hadn’t hesitated to nod your head vigorously, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight hug.

Your sudden attacks of physical affection had been something Levi needed to get used to, having a tendency to tense slightly at your touch, but he slowly grew to adore your passing caresses and hugs from behind. He considered his day incomplete without his heart swelling at least four times with every graze of your fingers or tightening of your arms around his body.

Not to mention the way you could leave him a flustered, blushing mess with a simple phrase or compliment, having his brain working overtime to recover from the sentence “I like your hair like that,” was a good way to get him into a surprisingly amicable mood for the rest of the day. And of course he also had his little ways of surprising you. You’d come back to your office having been thoroughly cleaned, or your cloak and jacket would be folded on your bed, smelling of his own washing powder and leather softener. You’d find little reminders on your desk to eat and sleep, always signed with a little ‘L.’ and you kept every single one.

But at the start of the fourth month of your relationship, something shifted slightly, and Levi couldn’t tell whether it was because you were busier nowadays, or the honeymoon phase was over, or what was going on. He just knew that one day, out of the blue, your touches and compliments started to dwindle. He’d no longer be surprised by your embrace during lunch hours. You’d stopped sneaking up behind him and delivering a little kiss to the back of his neck and he couldn’t work why. Not being one well acquainted with words, Levi found it difficult to ask you if you were alright.

However, to you, since you were both still figuring out how the other loved, it simply demonstrated a lack of interest. You’d begun to think he wasn’t as invested in your relationship as he used to be, or rather, he wasn’t as invested in your relationship as you were. It was difficult to constantly be on the giving end of affection. You honestly didn’t mind for the first few months, but now it was starting to take a toll on you. Not wanting to make him uncomfortable, you’d never ask for any sort of affirmation. Sure, you knew he didn’t like public displays of affection, but in private, it wouldn’t kill him to compliment you once in a blue moon, or actually initiate some sort of contact. Even at night, sleeping by his side, it was always you who snuggled into him. He’d never reach out for you, or bring you closer against him. You’d feel him slowly relax into your touch, but that wasn’t the same as him actively wanting to feel you.

But you’d never want to put him on the spot like that. That wasn’t fair on him…

Right?

It had been one hell of a day. Training was hell, meetings were long and arduous, you’d had to skip lunch because of the endless streams of paperwork flowing through your office, and if you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t particularly want to suffer yet another night of feeling completely unloved by the man who was supposed to love you the most. You’d do it anyway, as self destructive as that was, because you didn’t want him to think anything was wrong. But your mask was cracking, and your façade was breaking, and you didn’t think you could continue like this for much longer.

Levi glanced up from his paperwork as the soft click of his office door alerted him of your presence. He already knew it was you, you never needed to knock. He was happy for you to come and go whenever you pleased, since you sort of shared his room now anyway. But before he even got a good look at your tired, forlorn face, he knew something was wrong. And that instinctual idea was only confirmed by the smile you gave him. The one that didn’t quite meet your eyes, and was too thin-lipped to be genuine.

It wasn’t that your expression annoyed him, it was more the fact that something had been wrong for a while now, and you hadn’t told him. You’d kept it to yourself and he hated that. He wanted you to feel safe enough to talk to him, to confide in him like he often did in you. He wanted you to open up to him about whatever was bothering you, but he could never quite find the words to prompt such a conversation.

“You alright?” fuck, that tone was way too flat to seem sincere. Levi mentally chided himself for his lack of tact, only succeeding in pushing you further away. He could feel you slipping through his fingers like sand, and no matter how much he snatched and grapsed, there was nothing he could do to hold onto you.

“Tired,” your one word response and feigned contentment both broke his heart and enraged it. Why the hell did you insist on pretending to be okay? Why the hell weren’t you talking to him? A sharp sigh flew from his nose as his eyes dragged from you back to the parchment on his desk.

“Go to bed then.” an order. That was an order. Not some loving suggestion for you to take care of yourself like he wanted it to be. He was ordering one of his subordinates about accidentally because why the fuck he had to be so inept with communication, he’d never know. He knew things weren’t going swimmingly, and the way your breath hitched in your throat and tears lined your usually bright eyes told him that if he didn’t sort his shit out soon, he’d lose you for good.

Your jaw clenched as you pushed down the urge to cry, though you could do nothing against the salt lining your lash line. It was infuriating. You disguised your sorrow with a tired chuckle, nodding your head in agonising agreement.

“Right. Yeah. Good idea. G’night.” Levi missed the little peck on his cheek he used to receive whenever you headed off to bed before him. He missed the disapproving folding of your arms as he explained he wasn’t quite finished with his work yet to join you. And god he missed you burying your face in the crook of his neck, telling him not to stay up too late as you’d tighten your arms around his shoulders. He missed you so damn much.

His heart clenched painfully as you waited an extra beat, giving him the opportunity to say something, anything, to make this right. Ask you to stay. Tell you to join him. Hold out his hand for you to take and for him to guide you onto his lap with. But as the beat dragged on, a smile of hopeless resignation crossed your features. It wasn’t going to happen.

Without another word, you disappeared through the door into the attached bedroom.

Pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, Levi reflected on the absolute clusterfuck of a conversation he tried to engage him, and found his stomach twisting with something he’d only felt once not too long ago. Until it dropped entirely. For the second time in a few months, Levi was experiencing regret.

Leaning against the door now separating you, you angled your head to the ceiling, willing your tears to stop spilling down your cheeks.

Your mother had told you never to cry over a man, but it seemed impossible when that man held the entirety of your shattered heart in his bloodied hands.

You hated every hot trail that repeatedly carved down your face, knowing that if he found you like this, he’d never forgive himself. He didn’t deserve that, not when he didn’t even know what he's done wrong. It wasn’t even that he’d done anything wrong, he just hadn’t done everything perfectly right. And you despised how you reacted towards something he wasn’t even consciously doing. Or rather, not doing.

Shaking your head free of the clouding emotions, you were determined to at least get ready and get into bed before you completely broke down. Briskly wiping the liquid diamonds from your face, you forced a smile, hoping that somehow the rumors of smiling actually making you happy were true. It took all of two minutes to change into a comfortable tee and baggy pants. You’d usually wear something of his, but that was before you pretty much considered your relationship to be, well, ending.

That was the thought that had tears spilling down your face uncontrollably. You didn’t even know why. Wouldn’t you both be happier if you split up? Or maybe take a break? You wouldn’t have to worry about feeling unloved and he wouldn’t have to worry about… whatever the hell he worried about. You grit your teeth, trying to prevent your sobs from escaping your tight chest as you buried yourself beneath the plush white duvet. This was stupid. So many couples broke up all the time, why the hell were you so damn upset about it? The answer was so glaringly obvious it hurt to think about.

You loved him. Simple as that.

You hadn’t even noticed the door opening. Hadn’t noticed the soft footsteps crossing the wooden floor, even clad in leather boots. You hadn’t noticed the slight dip in the mattress, or the small pressure against the top of the duvet before it was slowly removed to reveal your curled form. Knees tucked tight into your chest, arms wrapped around yourself to provide what little physical comfort you could.

Levi extended a hand to your shoulder, before hesitating just short of actually touching you and pulling back. You were still completely unaware of his presence and Levi could finally see the raw wound behind your bandage of a smile. And his next move was almost instinctual.

His hand extended forth again, and this time, there was no hesitation before his warm, calloused palm gently came to rest on your shoulder. But it didn’t quite garner the response he was expecting.

A sharp yelp flew from your reddened lips as you sat bolt upright, head whirling to face what you genuinely assumed was some sort of intruder, only to be met with Levi’s equally startled visage. Clearly neither of you were expecting this. You first thought came in the form of a question; Why the hell are you covered in goosebumps? Your second was the realisation that; Ah, you’re covered in goosebumps because his hand was, in fact, still on your shoulder. And despite the very thing you’d been craving finally becoming a reality, you shifted back and out of his grasp, much to his dismay.

You were both the first to talk.

“If this is where you break up with me I deserve to know why.”

“If you’ve fallen out of love with me Levi I need to know why.”

The result was a mish-mash of a few similar words but for the most part it was an incoherent din of two confused partners. You both looked at each other, once again speaking at exactly the same time.

“What?”

An awkward chuckle passed between you, before you gestured for him to go first, something he responded with a small shake of his head and your repeated gesture with his own hand. You sighed, running a hand down the side of your tear-stained face, steeling your nerves before you plunged headfirst into this conversation. Confrontation had never made you uneasy before, and yet here you are.

“Alright, okay. Things haven’t exactly been going smoothly, I think we can both agree. Levi I just need to know if you don’t love me anymore because of something I’ve done wrong, or because feelings have just dwindled overtime, because this whole not knowing thing is really starting to hurt.” someway, somehow, you always managed to come to the complete opposite conclusion to the right one. It made him smile inwardly how you thought your horse hated you because she kept breathing and sniffing in your face, when in fact she did that to show she’d accepted you as part of her family, and his dumbfounded confusion had become a familiar expression to you, so immediately you had an idea that maybe, just maybe, you might have gotten something wrong.

“What the hell makes you think I don’t love you?” you froze completely still, ice crystalising on every bone in your body as you properly processed what he’d just said. First of all, you were wrong. Second of all, he just admitted he loved you. And third of all, you were a complete and utter idiot for thinking otherwise.

“I just… I don’t know. I guess I started to think you didn’t want me around because you’d never, like, reciprocate? Does that make sense? I just didn’t think you liked me touching you or hugging you or anything like that because you never did it back? And that thought just sort of… spiralled into this.” you admitted, and though your voice remained strong, silent tears once again slowly carved their way down your cheeks. Evidence of your spiralling mindset that was soon wiped away by the thumbs of the man who well and truly loved you.

“I’m sorry–”

“No, you don’t have to apologise, this was just me being s-mph–” you were silenced by Levi’s hand covering your mouth completely, and you hadn’t noticed the look of relief in his dimly lit irises until now.

“I’m not very good with words. I never have been. And I didn’t exactly have a tender childhood,” his palm slowly came away from your face, only to be taken into your own hand and onto your lap. This was a much needed conversation to have, and you would do what you could to help him through it. “Hugging people, and complimenting them… touching them… It’s not something that comes naturally to me. I didn’t know what a… hug felt like for a long, long time,” you almost winced at the way he said the word, like it was some sort of taboo. You tried to look into his eyes, but with the way his raven bangs fell before his face, it was difficult to see. That was until he took a deep breath and raised his head to look at you. “Until… you. You sort of, demonstrated that contact doesn’t have to be so shitty. You did it so easily and without hesitation and everyone seemed to love it,” you understood him now. You understood why he never initiated any sort of affection that could be taken at face value as nothing short of love.

He was scared. Scared that someone from his background would hurt someone like you.

“How was it? I mean like, how did it make you feel? When I hugged you?” you asked honestly, hoping for an equally honest answer. And to your soft, tender surprise, he supplied you with one.

“Loved,” he responded, almost inaudibly. His gaze dropped from your face, avoiding your caressing gaze until you tentatively cupped the side of his jaw, grounding him and bringing him back to you.

“Hold me and ask the same question,” you instructed softly. A feather twitched in his brow, eyes widening a fraction at the suggestion. But the encouragement in your expression helped him voice his concerns.

“What if you don’t feel the same?” The quiet question held so much unspoken fear that it broke your heart. You knew you’d feel the same, maybe something more. Humming a small smile, you smoothed over his gently pinched brow with your thumb, watching with renewed adoration as he leant into your touch.

“Try it and find out,” Levi took a breath, nodding a fraction at your instruction, before mimicking the movements he’d both seen and felt you perform time and time again. Strong arms slid around your middle, guiding you into his chest, and you couldn’t have moved more willingly if you were made of putty. Your eyes screwed shut, as if to stop the overwhelming happiness of the moment escaping. With your ear against his sternum, you could hear his surprisingly steady heartbeat, and your hand came up to rest against his chest to feel that same rhythm beneath your fingertips. Sure, Levi had held you before, but only because you initiated it. This was something else completely. This felt willing.

“So…?” you could hear the nerves in his deep tones. “How are you feeling?” The broad, uncontainable smile on your face was nothing like the forced, almost grimace from earlier. The tiny slivers of salt now escaping from your eyes were nothing like the embodiment of your heartache from earlier. It took you a moment to find the right word, but his small hitch of breath was well worth it.

“Safe. I feel safe. Safer here than anywhere else,” your arms snaked around to his back, holding yourself against him as his own tightened around you. Levi nestled into your sweet smelling hair, savouring this moment of breakthrough. You felt safe. In his arms. In his embrace. You felt safe. Of all the things Levi considered himself being, some sort of safe haven was never something that crossed his mind. Ever. But you always had your ways of surprising him.

“I missed you. I missed this,” he confessed tenderly, his hand trailing up and down your spine, content to simply feel you against him. To hold you tight and never let you go like that again. But Levi wanted to try something. He wanted you to know just how much he loved you. Just how deeply he cared for you. Gently guiding your head from the nest you’d made against his chest, Levi rested his palm against the side of your neck, tilting you back to look up at him. You eyes flitted between his, not knowing which swirling irises and broad pupil to get lost into. His own gaze flickered over your face, drinking in your appearance before landing on your lips.

“Can I kiss you?” you almost ruined the moment by choking on your own spit, your short sharp gasp almost rendering you unkissable as you stared wide eyed at the man who held your beating heart in the palms of his clean hands.

“A-are you sure? I mean, I don’t want to overwhelm you or anything… I definitely want you to! Obviously… But uh, don’t kiss me just because you feel bad or guilty or something, like I’d never want you to–” Levi’s nimble fingers gently traced the side of your face, cutting you off completely as you found your brain unable to process any thought other than his touch.

“I want to,” you found yourself speechless, only able to react to his movements as his mint tea breath fanned your face. With fluttering lashes, you savoured the feeling of anticipation until his lips grazed yours. It was nothing but a gentle caress, but you slowly guided him through the motions with your mouth against his, wordlessly teaching him to match your rhythm. Levi was a swift learner, you knew this about him, and it wasn’t long before you were lost in who was supposed to be guiding who. Your arm hooked around his neck, steadily bringing him closer into your embrace as your hand found a home in his ebony tresses.

Levi pulled back just far enough to murmur against your mouth the words you’d wanted to hear since the day you met him.

“I love you. So damn much. I don’t say it nearly as often as I should, but I love you,” in this moment of you being tangled in his arms, sharing your first kiss and pouring your love into one another, you didn’t think you had ever been this happy.

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seijorhi · 3 years

Text

Choke.

another soulmate au nobody asked for :)

Akaashi Keiji x female reader x Bokuto Koutarou

TW dub-con, implied future non-con

It wasn’t a good day to begin with.

You’re late, rushing through the busy campus hallways to make it to an exam that quite frankly you’re at least 70% sure you’re going to fail, mostly because instead of cramming last night you’d been… otherwise occupied with your boyfriend.

And you really, really just want this whole thing to just be over with already.

With your nose stuck in your textbook, frantically pouring over your notes right up until the very last second, it’s hardly a surprise that you don’t see the two of them rushing down the hallway in the opposite direction until you’re quite literally colliding with the taller of the pair – the broad shouldered one.

Your notes go flying, the last of your coffee too and for one split second, you’re pretty positive that you’re gonna end up flat on your ass with a little more than some bruised pride. But just as you’re about to hit the ground, not one but two hands reach for you, catch you, and the very second they do, you feel it:

A flash of guilt and momentary alarm, embarrassment, you think, and chagrin, each emotion hitting you like a sledgehammer, overwhelming you, one after the other in a dizzying blur that’s distinctly other, and then–

Shock.

Dawning surprise.

A rush of something warm, adoring, a happiness so bright and blinding that it makes you physically jerk backwards, almost slamming your head against the wall in the process. And two pairs of eyes – one a deep, luminous gold, the other a cool, gunmetal blue – stare at you in wide eyed wonder a split millisecond before you wrench yourself free, gasping.

The moment their grip falters, the torrent stops. You can breathe.

Blessed silence, save for the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. Everything fades out around you – the students and lecturers alike bustling through the busy hallway, the humming drone of chatter that’s nearly deafening. Nothing exists but the three of you; caught in your little bubble.

And it’s dread, you think, that seeps through your blood as you stare at them.

They’re both handsome, albeit in their own ways. The taller of the two – the one who’d almost barrelled you over – looks like he could probably bench press you without breaking a sweat. His shirt isn’t exactly clinging to him, but you can see the hints of well defined muscles beneath, and the size of his biceps alone are enough to make your heart skip a beat and your mouth dry up a little. With rippling muscles, spiky black and silver hair, a strong jawline and those round, golden eyes, he looks like a modern day adonis.

His friend might’ve been shorter, his build leaner, but with his softer features, pretty eyes and dark hair, you think he’s perhaps the prettiest man you’ve ever laid eyes on. From the fineness of his nose to the gentle curve of his lips and his long, dark sweeping eyelashes, he reminds you of those white marble statues you’ve seen before in museums and art galleries– a beauty so divine, so perfect – so devastating – that it steals your breath a little.

And they’re both watching you, frozen entirely. Smiling in breathless delight, as if they can’t quite believe it either.

Soulmates.

You’ve spent your whole life wondering what it would be like, experiencing somebody else’s emotions. Studies have been done and countless books and articles written about the bond between soulmates; the intimacy of sharing emotions through touch, but nobody really knows why or how it happens.

And for some, it’s a subtle thing. A suggestion, a whisper against their own consciousness, easily brushed aside. Others feel it stronger.

For you, it was like drowning. Choking under the sudden, intense barrage of feelings that weren’t yours. Maybe it’s because there’s two of them – and that much at least you’re sure of. You don’t have the words to explain it, but they’d felt separate somehow, distinctive from one another – kind of like fingerprints, you suppose.

There’s no denying the bond, no denying that they’re both your soulmates, and all you can think of is that you don’t want it. Not here, not now. Not them.

The dark haired one seems to realise quicker than his friend that you’re not reacting how you’re supposed to, you’re just standing there, rigid and tense, gaping at them. And the slight smile that graced his perfect lips starts to waver, his brows drawing together when finally his friend cottons on.

He reaches for you, the beginnings of a pout taking shape on his face, and you move without even thinking, jerking out of reach with a sharp breath. His hand hangs outstretched for a beat too long, a noise like a kicked puppy leaving his lips as he realises that you’re flinching away from him; away from your soulmate. He looks heartbroken, and he’s yet to utter a single word.

You don’t give him a chance. You’re not some cold, unfeeling beast; there’s a twinge in your heart, a heaviness that’s far too close to guilt settling in your stomach, but you just can’t. And with shaking hands you bend over and hastily grab up your things, forcing yourself not to meet their confused, hurt stares when you right yourself.

“I– I’m sorry,” you murmur, and before either one of them can try to stop you, you disappear into the crowd, racing for your exam.

—

The lights are on when you make it back home, the familiar, comforting scent of home cooked food filling your apartment.

“Hey, babe,” your boyfriend calls out as you wearily drop your purse by the door and kick out of your shoes. His back’s to you, attention fixed on the simmering saucepan on the stovetop, but he glances over his shoulder as he continues, “How’d your exam go?”

And you can’t help it, you burst into tears.

Painful, heaving sobs that might’ve had you collapsing onto the floor if he hadn’t swept across the room to snatch you up into his arms. “That bad, huh?” Kuguri jokes, but the words sound hollow.

“I found them,” you mutter into his chest, and the way he stiffens, his grip tightening for just a moment has your heart breaking all over again.

Kuguri doesn’t say much as he leads you to the couch, he just lets you talk. It’s almost worse, you think, the way he doesn’t react.

Because you both knew this was coming at some point. For months you’ve tried to convince yourself that you could feel him when you were together.

You felt his love when he held you, right?

Happy when he was happy?

But you’d known, both of you, that as much as you wished it otherwise, he wasn’t your soulmate, and you weren’t his. And whether it was today or six months down the line, this was always going to happen.

“You don’t have to…” you trail off, searching his eyes desperately for anything other than the gentle resignation lingering there. “I love you.”

He smiles at that, cups your cheek in his hand and brushes away the stray tear that spills. “I know you do, but–” it’s not enough. “They’re your soulmates. Don’t you think they deserve a chance to make you happy?”

He’s gone when you wake the next morning.

—

In a university of thousands, a sprawling city campus, you honestly believe that in spite of everything, you probably won’t see them again. They don’t know your name, or what you study, you don’t live in the dorms like some of the other students; the chances of just randomly bumping into them again are slim, soulmates or no.

Of course, there are facebook groups and pages set up to reconnect lost soulmates, but you’d have to actually want to find them to try something like that.

(Part of you wonders whether they’ve tried)

The universe has a sense of humour, it seems, because when your paths cross next, it’s not at uni, it’s at the little corner store a few blocks down from your apartment.

At 2am in the morning.

And you’re staring intently at the freezer, mentally weighing up exactly what kind of ice cream you need to sate your craving when you hear the sharp intake of breath behind you.

“Holy crap, you’re here.”

It’s stupid, you think, the way your stomach flutters when you turn to find him staring in wide eyed wonder; the taller one, with the spiky hair and those impossibly wide, honey eyes.

He’s smiling, his entire face lit up like a christmas tree at the sight of you. As if you hadn’t run off without so much as an acknowledgement the last time you’d met. As if seeing you here, looking like shit – makeup free and dressed in your old favourite sweats – is the absolute best thing that could have happened.

And when your cheeks grow hot, you’re not entirely sure if it’s embarrassment over the way you look, the fact that he’s caught you buying ice cream that you fully intend to let melt just a little bit before polishing off at two in the morning, or if it’s shame over how badly you’d reacted the last time you’d seen him.

But if he notices your inner turmoil, he doesn’t show it, grinning widely as he calls back over his shoulder, “Akaashi!”

You still haven’t uttered a peep, haven’t moved. Just like last time you’re caught feeling like a kid with their hand stuck in the cookie jar as your other soulmate rounds the corner, his attention fixed on the ingredients list of the rice cracker snacks in his hands, a basket full of groceries tucked into the crook of his elbow.

“Bokuto, I was just around the corner, there’s no need to shout.”

Pretty steel blue eyes flicker up for a split second, then quickly do a double take as he realises that it’s you – his errant soulmate, standing struck dumb, here of all places. “Oh.”

Oh.

Akaashi eyes you for a moment, and you watch as his throat bobs unsteadily, but just as with Bokuto, he can’t seem to help the smile that creeps across his face. It’s softer than his friend’s, not so blinding but warm nonetheless. Genuine. There’s no animosity there, and it should put you at ease – they don’t seem to blame you, at least.

It should, but it doesn’t.

Even now, there’s a little voice in your head urging you to forget your late night cravings, turn tail and run. Nevermind that they’d likely just follow you, much less that you’d look like an absolute fucking idiot, fleeing from your soulmates who so far have done nothing wrong.

It’s not supposed to be this awkward, right? It’s not supposed to be difficult, but even when they’re smiling at you, there’s a tension that digs its claws into you and refuses to relent. Your heart thumps unevenly, like a scared little bunny caught in a trap and the wolves are circling.

If it’s normal, then your parents and every other soulmated pair you’ve ever met certainly kept it to themselves. Maybe it’s the guilt, you think. Maybe you’re just being overdramatic. They’re your soulmates, right? They probably just want to talk, to get to know you, and right now you’re the one being standoffish and rude.

It occurs to you then that you still haven’t spoken, and they’re both staring at you somewhat expectantly. You really are fucking this up, aren’t you?

“H-hi,” you manage to muster, forcing yourself to smile back. Tiny and timidly, perhaps, but it’s a smile.

It seems to work, because Bokuto positively beams at you and Akaashi sets down his basket to slide in closer, a pleased little hum escaping his throat.

Aside from the faint sound of the radio playing in the background and the cashier casually flicking through a magazine up at the register, the store is quiet. It’s just the three of you, except this time there really is no running off and disappearing into the crowd. Which is fine, you need to face them sooner or later, right?

Give them a chance?

Otherwise everything else, all that heartbreak and the lonely nights since will have been all for nothing. So you swallow tightly, take a soft, steadying breath, and press on.

“I, um… I’m sorry about last time. You know with… everything,” you finish lamely, mentally cringing at the sheer awkwardness of it. “I had an exam.”

But again, your soulmates don’t seem to take it personally, the darker haired one (Akaashi, your brain helpfully supplies) nodding slightly.

“It’s okay. You’re here now.” He has a nice voice, calming and smooth, and though the words seem to carry a different weight you find yourself nodding along with him. You can do this, you can make an effort.

This is fine.

You swallow again, tongue darting out to wet your lips, “I’m Y/N,” you introduce, clutching just a little bit tighter at the handles of your own shopping basket.

You don’t extend a hand, nor try to go in for a hug, but standing there rigidly feels wrong too. They’re strangers, yes, but they’re also not, and you don’t quite know how to act around somebody like that, somebody you’re supposedly fated for but know nothing about. All you know is that the last time they touched you, it was too much. It hurt. And even as you catch sight of the slightly disheartened expression on Bokuto’s face, you’re hesitant to put yourself through it again.

“It’s pretty,” Akaashi compliments, and there’s a faint dusting of pink on his cheeks as he says it. “Suits you.”

Your own probably aren’t much better, with the blood that rushes to your face. You drop your gaze a little, nibbling on your bottom lip, “O-oh, uh… thank you.”

When you glance back up to Bokuto, you find him staring at you again, not with the same hurt expression as before, but something akin to wonder. He seems speechless, in awe of your flustered state, and you wonder how he can bounce that quickly from emotion to emotion without giving himself whiplash. But it seems like your attention is just the thing he needs to pull himself out of it, because he closes his gaping mouth and grins again.

“Y/N,” he repeats, like he’s testing it out, rolling your name over his tongue. “You probably heard, but I’m Bokuto– you can call me Koutarou, though.”

There’s a beat of silence, and he’s quick to add, “And that’s Akaashi.”

“Keiji,” Akaashi corrects, shooting you another gentle smile.

First names. It makes sense, you suppose, but the familiarity of it all still doesn’t sit quite right with you. But now that introductions are out of the way, you don't have a clue what you’re supposed to say now - ‘so, soulmates; crazy, huh?’ doesn’t exactly feel appropriate, given the circumstances.

You’re distinctly aware that it’s the middle of the night and you’re at a convenience store and while this might not be the worst time to run into your soulmates again, it’s not far off.

Maybe that’s not a bad thing, though, because at least it kind of gives you an out. Shifting your weight from one foot to another, you clear your throat, “I hope you guys don’t think I’m being rude or anything, but it is kinda late…” you trail off, hoping they’ll pick up what you’re putting down.

And while Bokuto’s brow furrows, Akaashi at least has the decency to look a little abashed. “Yeah, no, of course. We’re just so… we’re glad we ran into you again.”

Your cheeks heat again, and to save yourself from having to meet their gazes head on, you quickly spin around, open the freezer door and grab the first pint ice cream that you see. “I just came for this,” you laugh, fighting back a wince at how hollow and fake it all sounds.

“Here,” Bokuto says, and before you can react he’s snatching it from your grip (thankfully keeping his hand from brushing against yours) and places it atop the basket in Akaashi’s arms. “Our treat.”

He beams at you, and you’re honestly too stunned to reply. You don’t really want him paying for it, but if it gets you out of this awkward encounter any quicker, you’ll swallow down your protests and let it go.

And so you trail meekly after the two of them as they head to the cashier, and when Akaashi passes you the bag you’re so careful to avoid his touch, a fact he notes with the slightest of frowns, but he doesn’t comment on it.

“It’s late,” he says instead as the three of you exit into the brisk night air. And then those gunmetal eyes are on you, studying you for a moment. You realise what he’s about to say the moment he opens his mouth again, “Can we walk you home? Or to the bus stop at least?”

Your stomach lurches at the thought of it, of two veritable strangers knowing where you live, but–

He’s not wrong, exactly. It is late, and in hindsight it was probably stupid for you to have come out at this time of the night alone in the first place, whether it was a safe neighbourhood or not. And they’re not strangers, they’re your soulmates.

You have to try.

So you nod. ‘It’s just down the road,” you murmur, but as the two of them fall into step either side of you, sharing a distinctly satisfied look between themselves, you think that it wouldn’t have mattered how far it was. They would have walked with you anywhere.

Yet their expressions of mild surprise (disappointment, maybe?) when you stop them less than five minutes later in front of your apartment block almost makes you laugh. “This is me.”

Bokuto eyes the building for just a moment before his attention returns to you. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Lie, that little voice inside your head urges, but you force yourself to ignore it. You have to try. “Uh, not much, I guess…”

Even as you say the words, your hands tighten on your bag, twisting nervously – a sign they either don’t read or wilfully ignore as Bokuto brightens up once again.

“Awesome! Wanna swing by ours to chill for a little bit?”

Like a date, you think as your gaze flickers between the two. Yet Akaashi’s watching you just as intently, those dark eyes far more inscrutable than Bokuto’s, which doesn’t help ease the uncomfortable feeling sitting in the pit of your stomach. There’s really no reason for you to say no, no polite way for you to turn them down. They’re your soulmates, you’re supposed to want this. “Um…”

“Or we can come here, if you want? Or head into the city and do something there, maybe go see a movie or something? Whatever you’d prefer.”

“No!” the words slip from your tongue before you can stop them, the idea of the two of them in your apartment, your home just feels like… too much. “No,” you repeat again, quieter, forcing your features to soften into a hesitant smile. “Your place is good.”

That way you can leave if it all gets to be too much. It’s just a casual hang out. It’ll be fine.

Both of them seem to relax at your agreement, and you quickly take out your phone to grab Akaashi’s number – sending him a message so he has your number too.

“Perfect,” he says, his voice a purr that sends a ripple of something running down your spine. “I’ll text you the address in the morning.”

You smile at both of them, thanking them again for the ice cream and for walking back with you, even if it was only a few hundred metres. And you think you’re in the clear as you start walking up the steps, trying to balance your keys, your phone and your bags when the sound of your name being called makes you turn around.

Bokuto’s there, a step behind you, and before you can even so much as blink he’s grabbing at your hand, tugging you forward and kissing you.

Just like last time, it’s instantaneous and overwhelming. You feel it all – his giddy excitement, the stirrings of something deeper, less innocent as he cradles your body to his.

And the love.

Oh god. It’s not mere affection, not some fleeting, superficial thing. It pours over you in unrelenting waves, crushing you under the force of it – you can’t even feel his tongue moving against yours, or the way he sucks on your bottom lip, groaning quietly.

You can’t breathe, can’t think. It’s too much, too much, too strong, too sudden, you can’t BREATHE.

Your trembling hands finds his shoulders, and as your head spins, nausea churning in your gut you don’t waste a second, shoving him away from you with enough force that he actually stumbles back a little.

Though you’ll admit it’s probably more from shock than any strength you actually possess.

And you don’t dare look to Akaashi as tears fill your eyes, a heaving gasp leaving your lips. Bokuto’s eyes are wide, his mouth agape; he looks confused more than horrified as you stumble back, almost tripping over the last step.

“D-don’t touch me,” you gasp, “please.”

There’s pain in his eyes as your tears well up and spill over and you choke back another sob, but you don’t give him a chance to say anything else. Limbs trembling, you force yourself upright, clutching at the keys in your fist as you skitter towards the door.

You hear one of them, Akaashi you think, calling out your name, but you don’t pause, don’t look back – throwing open the lobby door and slamming it shut behind you.

And your heart pounds as you climb the steps two at a time, and it’s only once you're in the safety of your own apartment, with the door shut and firmly locked that you allow yourself to breathe. You realise distantly that at some point – probably on the steps outside – you dropped the ice cream they’d bought for you, but you can’t find it within yourself to care. The first time you realise was an accident, they had no way of knowing you were their soulmate, much less how you’d react when they’d touched you. But that–

That wasn’t right.

It wasn’t normal.

Those feelings, that love, you’ve never experienced anything like it, and yet it’s left you feeling filthy; tainted. Scared. It was too much; boundless and abundant, the kind of love that devours and chokes, selfishly strangling everything in its environment to thrive. Overpowering and solely directed at you. How was it supposed to do anything but terrify you. And how can he possibly believe that he loves you like that already?

Soulmates or not, you don’t know him!

This– this whole thing is wrong.

You can’t stop yourself from checking the locks on your apartment another three times before you slip under the covers of your bed, trying to will sleep to find you.

On the nightstand beside you, your phone vibrates, but you refuse to check it, knowing full well that it’s them.

It doesn’t stop.

And with every new notification your blood pressure climbs, and there’s a part of you that’s telling you you have no reason to be reacting like this – whatever happened on those steps, it’s not like they’re going to hurt you.

It was an accident, a misunderstanding.

But they’re still blowing your phone up with notifications and they know where you live and no matter what you tell yourself, you can’t seem to quell the disquiet that eats away at you.

And it’s a cruel thing to do, you know it is, but you don’t know what else to do as you finally give in, swiping your phone up and searching for his contact. The phone rings once, twice, three times and there’s a sinking feeling in your chest when you realise he’s not going to pick up–

“Hello?” Kuguri’s voice is groggy, heavy with sleep and you can almost picture him, sitting up in bed, wiping the sleep from his eyes, running a hand through his messy bed hair. “Fuck, do you know what time it is, Y/N? Why’re you calling me so late?”

There’s a pause, pregnant and heavy, and the only sound that leaves you is the soft hitch in your breath.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, quieter this time, an edge of worry in his tone.

You haven’t spoken to him in weeks, since he’d left without a word and broke your heart, but he’s the only one you want to talk to right now.

“I-I’m sorry for calling,” you begin, sniffling back your tears. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

—

When you drag yourself out of bed only a few short hours later, your body’s still crying out for a little more sleep, but you can’t afford to indulge.

Like you’d planned, you send the message first thing, ignoring the flood of unread texts above – both from Akaashi and an unknown number you can only assume is Bokuto’s.

I’m sorry about last night, just need some space.

You have nothing to be sorry for – even if it wasn’t for the frankly unsettling emotions you’d felt, Bokuto’d still kissed you without your permission. But Kuguri said it was better that way – they were less likely to freak out and panic or whatever. You hadn’t questioned it too much, it didn’t really matter what you said so long as they knew you didn’t want them anywhere near you… at least until you figured this whole thing out. And you trusted Kuguri on this.

God knows why he’d even answered your call in the first place, but you’re impossibly glad that he did. Gladder still that he hadn’t hung up on you the moment he’d realised why you were calling.

You scoff down a quick breakfast, before hopping into the shower. The scalding water’s a welcome relief, waking you up more than your coffee had and allowing you the space to think.

Kuguri’s got errands to run this morning, but he’d said you were welcome to stop by his place anytime. He’d insisted on it actually, telling you in no uncertain terms to pack an overnight bag.

‘Look, I’m probably being an overprotective asshole, alright, but I don’t want you there by yourself, so either you come here or I’m coming over there.’

And the thought that you’d need somebody there to protect you, that either one of your soulmates would do anything–

But it’s not so much about them, you think, but you. You’d been a mess when you’d called him, and despite how everything had gone down, Kuguri still cared about you – you can’t just turn those feelings off overnight – is it any wonder that you’d worried him?

Distantly, you register your phone going off a few more times as you busy yourself in washing your hair. You assume it’s Kuguri checking up on you, making sure that you’re alright – you pay it no mind, humming quietly as you reach for your conditioner.

And by the time you slip from your bathroom, wrapped in a big, fluffy towel it’s probably closer to mid-morning than you’d like. You don’t bother blow drying your hair or putting on makeup, instead heading to your room to get dressed and grab some clothes to take to Kuguri’s.

Except there’s a knocking at the door that stops you in your tracks.

You hadn’t heard the buzzer for the building’s main door go off, which meant that it was probably just your landlord stopping by, or one of your neighbours. You know the little girl who lives in the apartment next to yours likes to bake with her dad and sometimes drops off freshly made cookies and treats, so you hastily throw on enough clothes to pass as decent.

“Coming,” you sing out, racing across the room to reach the door.

Except when you throw it open, it’s not one of your neighbours standing out in your hallway, nor is it your elderly landlord.

Akaashi and Bokuto crowd the empty space; Bokuto grinning widely, Akaashi’s dark eyes fixed on yours.

“You weren’t answering your phone,” he murmurs, a faint frown tugging at his features as studies your face. “We were worried about you.”

And there’s so many things wrong with the fact that they’re here; least of all being how the hell they got into the building to begin with, but you can’t afford to think of any of that. You simply need to get them out of here without causing a fuss. Now.

They’re still your soulmates, you remind yourself as your heart rate picks up. They won’t do anything to hurt you.

“I-I told you I needed space, please go,” you mutter, clutching so tightly at the edge of the door that your knuckles turn white. “Please,” you beg again when neither of them make a move to leave.

“I told you, ‘Kaashi,” Bokuto says, his smile slipping in favour of a wounded pout, “She’s afraid of us. Her soulmates.”

And you don’t know what compels you to shake your head instead of just slamming the door in their faces, “N-no, I just–”

“She’s just skittish,” Akaashi interrupts, cutting you off mid-sentence. “Overwhelmed – this is all new to her. It’s okay, princess,” he says, addressing you this time with a teasing little smirk, “We’ll be gentle, okay? We’re going to take good care of you.”

It’s the final blow to your tentative politeness. As panic sinks its teeth into you, you skitter backwards, scrambling to shut the front door before they can get in–

Bokuto’s faster. They both are.

Stronger, too.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere bokuto x reader #yandere akaashi x reader #yandere bokuto kotaro x reader #yandere akaashi keiji x reader #yandere bokuto koutarou #yandere akaashi keiji #tw dub con #tw implied noncon #soulmate au

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hex-obsession · 3 years

Text

Silver Lining- Three

word count- 2,389

content warning- language, sexual acts (potentially rough)

____________________________________________

Nothing like getting pulled out of a deep sleep to go repair bulky, strident machinery and run, literally, for your life. You were, physically and mentally, in a fog. Worn out from the emotional runaround mere hours ago, you weren’t your usual bubbly self. To make matters worse, Leon was here and saw the discomfort on your face. Who wouldn’t? You were always bad at masking your feelings.

“Everything okay y/n?” Chills trickled through your ears and down the back of your neck at the soothing hum of his voice. It was too early for this, but at least you were fully awake now.

“Y-yeah, just tired.” Your hand defensively moves to your other arm, sending him the opposite message of ‘I’m fine’. Leon tenderly places his hand over yours, ducking slightly to be eye level with you. Instead of speaking, you just stare back at him blankly. Mind racing yet empty, you're completely lost for words. You forgot how to even speak, let alone move your tongue. Finally, your sense of self-preservation kicks in and you blurt out “I’m fine, really. Just in a haze, I guess. Really tired.” You force a smile, praying he buys it, or at least takes it as a hint not to pry. He’s still staring at you, studying your face and body language. This man was far too perceptive to fall for a lie that poorly executed. Not wanting to interrogate you and possibly upset you further, he let it go. His face relaxed, the puzzled, disapproving expression now replaced by one of empathy and concern.

“If there’s something on your mind, please tell me when you’re ready.” He extends his other arm and gently pulls you toward him, which you do not resist. You sheepishly wrap your arms around him, worried he might feel the pounding in your chest and return to questioning you. You couldn’t help but melt in his arms, which did help calm your nerves some. Consoling each other (let’s be real, it was always him consoling you) was no new feat. His uniform was rough on your cheek, a mix of harsh fabric and dried blood, but you didn’t mind. With your head turned, resting on his chest, you saw Jeff and Laurie coming closer. As much as you wanted to stay in this exact spot forever, you were grateful to direct Leon’s attention to anything other than you long enough to compose yourself. Hands eager to touch him longer, you lovingly rub his back and give his sides a little squeeze before releasing him.

“Sorry, hope we didn’t interrupt anything,” Laurie chimes innocently.

Cheeks ablaze, you jump to defend yourself. “No you’re fine! I’m just feeling a tad under the weather and Leon is a great friend.” You smile, eyes darting back to him only long enough to see he’s staring at you. Fuck, fuck, your face was on fire. Back on Laurie, she ever so slightly squints, so quickly you would’ve missed it if you weren’t excruciatingly observant. Her lips curl at the edges. She knows. You look back to Leon, who is still staring at you. Shit, fuck. You look to your left trying to avoid everyone's gaze. Her dainty hands latch onto you, pulling you into a hug. You stumble slightly, intoxicated by nervousness.

“Oh, sorry love.” She tilts her head back just enough for her mouth to line up with your ear. “Do it.” Her voice is heavy and breathy. It almost startles you, and a nervous chuckle escapes you.

“Th-thanks Laurie. Yeah, I just had a weird dream and I’m feeling really, uh, off.”

Heart racing, you thought it might be trying to escape, the force with which it was beating. You push your hair away from your face, hoping it would make breathing less labored when, you only made it easier to see how flustered you were. A final glance at Leon confirms he is indeed still staring. You’d never been thankful for the entity taking you before, but there’s a first time for everything. The fog surrounds you and the trial ensues, scattering you across the map. Completely disregarding everything other than your feelings, you shake your head and stretch your arms above you. They come down, folding around your head and you stare at the lockers in front of you, eyes out of focus; not actually taking in what you were looking at. A few deep breaths later, you pull yourself together enough to move your feet, one in front of the other. Midwich Elementary School; possibly your favorite of all the entity’s destinations. You recognized your surroundings. This was the locker room. Leaving the second floor was your first goal. As you entered the hallway, a bright light flickered in your face. At the end of the hall, Jeff pointed to the room to his right. You jogged over to him, said brief hellos, and knelt down to work on the repairs together. Shortly thereafter, with little remaining progress, a faint heartbeat echoed in your ears. You peered around the broken wall; no sign of the killer. The generator dings to life and you decide to split up to cover more ground. Jeff drops through a hole in the bathroom across the hall, leading you to divert from your original plan and head toward the other upstairs classrooms. As you near the stairwell, your heartrate increases. Not from the unbearable sexual tension you had for Leon, but the killer was close. You see nothing down the hall to your left, which meant the killer was below you. You sprint ahead, trying to make as little noise as possible. To your dismay, you were detected. Feet heavy on the ground, your footsteps echoed around you. You tripped on something but were far too agile to lose your balance, and never fell. Before rounding the corner, you look behind you to see what terror you were up against this time. A human figure with a red stain; the Legion. Extremely misleading the first time you ran into them. Extremely. You dart left, breaking line of sight. The chemistry lab is your best bet. Dropping through the floor will most likely get him off your trail. To prevent leaving scratch marks, you slow to a brisk walk. Just as you thought you would evade the killer, something grabs you and you lurch backward. Before you could scream, a hand covers your mouth. Leon spins you around to face him and pulls you close. The two of you are pressed tightly together between lockers and a wall. Heart racing, for multiple reasons, you stare at the small space where the floor is visible. Confused, the red light was bouncing around, taunting you. All that was on your mind was the heat radiating from all the areas your bodies were touching. The sudden realization that Leon had his arms around you, protecting you, made you jerk your head back to look at him. His eyes, normally brooding, were instead intently locked onto you with, was that, adoration? You didn’t want to get the wrong idea, or make assumptions rooted in your own feelings. A gen on the other side of the school is completed, and you see the Legion vault a window into the courtyard, leaving the two of you alone in the hall. Although the killer was nowhere near you, your heart was racing, painfully. You were agonizingly aware of the recurring flush that filled your face. You couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes, so you focused on his neck instead. So smooth and inviting. Every fiber of your being wanted to kiss it and bite it and moan his name into it. Your legs felt as if they would give way beneath you at any moment. You straightened your back to put more pressure on the wall behind you, allowing you to bend your legs slightly to prevent them from buckling under you. He had put himself slightly to your left as to

make sure he could block you from any attacks, if need be. If either of you moved forward so much as an inch, your legs would begin lacing together. Noticing how close your hips were to his sent a rush of heat to your crotch. Sick with suspense, you finally force yourself to look up. Before meeting his eyes, you analyze his lips. You craved them on your own. Your tongue on his; tasting each other.

“Y/n…” You’d never been turned on by your own name before. It was less your name and more the way it eased out of his mouth. Longing, impatient. Watching his lips emit your name made you crazed. You bit your bottom lip, wishing it were him biting it instead. Almost gasping for air, you take a deep breath and look into his eyes. Chills breeze over your body like a crisp fall evening. Muscles so weak you could barely move, you ease your hands around his waist, locking your fingers behind him. Your desire for him was borderline primitive at this point. If given the chance to pull him into one of the classrooms and fuck him right there on one of the desks, you’d take it without contemplation. Hell, you might initiate it in a second. Your pussy was throbbing, begging for him. You shifted your legs again, intertwining them completely. The pressure of his thigh on your clit sent electric chills through your legs to your toes. A short, pleased sigh escaping you drew his attention. His head eased forward slowly, sealing the distance between the two of you. His nose grazed yours and you gently nudged into it. You were panting in his face, which you would come to feel embarrassed about later. He continued forward until you felt his lips brush against yours. It tickled in the most satisfying way possible, like a flower against velvet.

“Yes,” you whispered against his lips, and just like that, every worry or care in the world vanished.

Softly, he pressed his lips to yours. It was electric to say the bare minimum. You took a staggered breath causing him to pull away. Your eyes shot open, darting wildly between his facial features, searching for any indication of regret. Instead, he places a hand on your cheek and pulls you into him. This time your lips met, they were ravenous. You suck his bottom lip into your mouth and bite down. Not enough to cause damage, but enough to cause him to let out a low rumbling moan into your mouth which sent you over the edge. Your non-dominant hand leaves his back and latches onto his gorgeous blonde hair. It was so soft in your fingers, like silk. You tilted your head and ran your tongue across the lip you still had trapped between your teeth. You released it which allowed Leon to open his mouth against yours and slide his tongue inside. Oh God, he tasted better than you’d imagined. Fleshy yet almost sweet, like the faintest hint of cinnamon. Your head was spinning and you felt light-headed from the stimulation (and the fact there was a good amount of blood in the lower half of your body). You were fixated on the fact that his saliva was in your mouth. You’d end up swallowing it, and vice versa. Your grip on his hair tightened and you let out a faint whimper. The combination made him growl with pleasure. His hands roamed your body briefly, coming to a stop at your waist. Seemingly effortlessly, he bent forward slightly, just enough to put his hands directly under your ass and prop you up against the wall, tongues still tangled. You wrapped your legs around him, wanting him to be even closer. You wanted, needed, him inside you. Given the new position, you could feel his engorged cock between your legs. You were almost- almost- concerned by the size of it. From what you could feel, he was well endowed. The hand on his back lowered to his ass cheek, which you graciously squeezed. You pulled him forward into you, just slightly at first, increasing the pressure of his bulge on you. You released and did it again. In any normal situation, you’d have never made a grown, fully clothed man grind on you like a horny pubescent boy, but these feelings for him had been pent up so long that they mutated from a sweet crush to full blown irrefutable lust. He caught on to what you were doing and abruptly removed his tongue from your mouth, leaving you confused and wanting all the more. His left hand came up to your chin and turned your head to the side, allowing him to press his lips to your ear.

Barely above a whisper, just a susurration, “You want me that bad, huh?” he taunted you. You were incapable of feeling embarrassment at the moment, brain flooded with desire. The warmth of his breath in your ear made you salivate. In a different setting, you would have begged to choke on his dick right now.

“Yeah? So what?” was the best retaliation you could think of in the moment. He chuckled; lips still pressed to your ear. The hand on your cheek traced your jaw and slid down to your neck. His slender, graceful fingers wrapped around your throat and gave it an intoxicating squeeze. Just hard enough to make you gasp but not hurt.

“I want to hear you beg for me,” his deep, warm voice filling your ear.

Your eyes shut and you tilt your head back in utter bliss, letting out a satisfied moan. He responded by nibbling your earlobe, which made you curse delightedly under your breath. Wanting to look at his irresistible face, you opened your eyes. Only, instead, you were greeted by eight beady black eyes peering down at you.

Snapping out of your drunken state, you blurt, “Oh fuck, Leon, the birds.”

He looks up to them with resentment and lets out a frustrated sigh. “Can we pick this up again later?” Ocean eyes begging you.

“You bet your fucking ass we’re picking this up later,” you demand before crashing your lips into his once more. “Now let’s get the fuck out of here before the whole flock follows us.”

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Silver Lining masterlist

#dbd fluff #dbd smut #dbd fanfic #leon x reader #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy

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dudeandduchess · 3 years

Note

Kyojuro and “I like the way your hand fits in mine.” if you have the time and energy please. Thank you.

Hey hey, Ren!!! I hope you like it! ❤️‍🔥 I had this idea since a couple of days ago, and me and Biz just fleshed it out during a jam session. Now, here’s me polishing it for a fic. The prompt was just so perfect that I had to put it here. I hope you like it! 😌❤️‍🔥

***

Kyōjurō x F!S/O: Ramen Nights (Fluff, Modern AU, SFW Scenario)

Summary: Wherein Kyōjurō’s wife wakes up with a craving for ramyeon. Full domestic fluff.

Kyōjurō didn’t even know what time it was. All that he knew that was there was something shaking him awake. At first, his initial thought was to wake his wife up and run out of their apartment— with her slung over his shoulder— in case it was an earthquake. However, he was proven wrong, and really dragged from his sleep, when she called his name out in a whisper.

“Kyō? Kyōjurō?” (Y/n) uttered in a tiny whisper, all while moving her hand on her husband’s arm, to start poking his chest. “Kyō, wake up.”

He didn’t even want to open his eyes, and everything in his body told him to keep sleeping, but his wife’s soft pleas had him cracking his eyes open, all while he stretched his arm that she had been using as a pillow. “Mm? Yeah, baby? Are you okay?”

Instead of answering immediately, (Y/n) had to pause— both physically and mentally— as she made the mistake of looking too closely up at Kyōjurō. Even with how horrible the light from her bedside lamp made her look, it still made the blond look so handsome.

He was so close to looking ethereal, in her opinion. But she wasn’t going to tell him that; he already had a big enough head— especially with her entire family loving him so much. Deep down though, she still believed that he was the most handsome man in the world.

“(Y/n)? Is something wrong?”

At that, the young woman quickly shook her thoughts from her head— knowing that she would pick them up at a later hour. Then slowly, her lips quirked up into a small smile, as she made sure to give her husband her best pleading look. “I’m hungry, Kyō. I want some ramyeon.”

Her craving played right into her husband’s skillset too, which had her waking him up in the first place. Had she craved for anything else, she would have gotten up and done it herself, because for all of Kyōjurō’s perfection, he also had some flaws.

Like how he couldn’t cook anything except fried eggs, rice, and instant ramen. And that hadn’t been without months of teaching Kyōjurō how to do things just right— including cleaning the kitchen up spotlessly afterwards. Even Senjurō had been pleasantly surprised when Kyōjurō had made him rice and a fried egg when he came over to visit.

“Ramyeon is the spicy one, right? That Korean one you like.”

Slowly, (Y/n)’s small smile tipped up into a sweet grin, silently thanking the gods that she had such a kind husband. “Yes, the one that has the same name as your dad.”

“My dad… Shin…” The young man mumbled softly, before cracking a smile and turning so he could press a kiss to his wife’s forehead. “Dad ramen. That’s funny.”

It really wasn’t, but Kyōjurō was just so adorable that (Y/n) didn’t have the heart to tell him that. “With two eggs, okay?”

“I know, baby. And add green onions if we have them, as well as mushrooms,” The blond answered with a grin, as he reluctantly pulled away from his wife and got out of bed. However, even if he had already kissed her forehead, he still leaned down and brushed another kiss against the top of her head.

“I love you, Kyō,” (Y/n) bid gently, all while trying to bite back a blush and a flustered smile that wanted to make themselves known on her face.

However, her effort was all for naught when Kyōjurō answered, “I love you more.”

And with that, he slipped his home slippers on, before making his way to the kitchen to make her request. All the while, (Y/n) sat up on the bed and turned the TV on to keep her occupied while waiting for her midnight snack.

After all, she didn’t want to miss out on another one of hers and Kyōjurō’s ‘Ramen Nights’. Safe to say that it was a common occurrence in their household, that’s why it had gotten a name in the first place. And it was during those nights that she got to spend time with her husband— without life getting in the way and cutting their time short; as the world was already asleep, and they were free to just bask in each other’s company.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long for Kyōjurō to cook her ramyeon; coming back to their room with it in a bowl paired off with only one set of chopsticks.

They were so used to that song and dance that (Y/n) immediately turned the TV off, before hitting the switch for Kyōjurō’s bedside lamp— illuminating their room even more— before she set off to wait for him to sit down by the end of her bed. And once he was all settled, she gingerly climbed onto his lap— wanting to straddle him, but settling for sitting sideways instead.

“Made with extra love,” Kyōjurō whispered as he handed the bowl over to her, all before pressing the gentlest of kisses against her cheek. “Just for you, baby.”

“Thank you, Kyō,” (Y/n) uttered sincerely, giving him a peck on his lips in return— and also earning the most adorable blush on his cheeks. Even after five months of being married, and two years of being together, he never ceased to be so cute whenever she caught him off guard.

After that, all conversation between them stopped; it was just the two of them enjoying each other’s company— with (Y/n) taking turns feeding Kyōjurō too. They were in their own little bubble, and it was obvious that they loved it there; judging by the tiny smiles and the lingering kisses that they shared every once in a while.

“This tastes even spicier from your lips,” Kyōjurō whispered after pulling away from one such kiss. He even made a show of licking his own lips, then winking at his wife— which was totally worth it when she started giggling like a teenager. “You make it so spicy, baby.”

“What would I have ever done without you, Kyō?”

“You don’t have to think about that, since I’d have always found a way to meet you,” At that, the young man took the empty bowl from his wife’s hands and set it down next to him on the bed. Then he wrapped on arm around her waist, as the other one wrapped around one of her hands— which she had set down on her thighs.

Slowly, he brought the hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss to each of her fingers; before rubbing his thumb over her knuckles in an effort to soothe her. “After all, you’re my soulmate.”

(Y/n) felt her tears prickling the backs of her eyes at that, but she blinked in the hopes of keeping them at bay. She didn’t want to ruin such a good time with the waterworks— even if her pregnancy hormones were the one responsible for her being so emotional.

Seeing that, Kyōjurō brought her hand back up to his lips, before tightening his grip on it. “Have I ever told you how much I love the way your hand fits in mine? Like you were made just for me.”

It was a clear ploy to distract her from her tears, but it only served to make her heart melt even more for her husband. “You’re too perfect for me, Kyō.”

“You’re wrong, baby. You’re the one who’s perfect; my perfect wife.” Those words didn’t fail to finally have the waterworks running; (Y/n) could even feel her face scrunching up into one of her undesirable crying expressions, so she quickly wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck— even burying her face against his skin.

“I love you.”

Instead of pulling her away to check on her, Kyōjurō brought his arms up and wrapped them tightly around (Y/n)— even rubbing her back as she kept on whispering her words of love for him. He would be crazy to even turn her away, when he loved every single thing that she was saying; especially adding in the fact that she was pregnant with their first child.

Kyōjurō could only hold her closer to him, before pressing a kiss to the side of her face, before grazing his lips by her ear. “I love you the most, (Y/n). I’m never letting you go.”

#rengoku kyoujurou x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #kyoujurou rengoku x reader #rengoku x reader #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku kyoujurou #kyojuro x reader #demon slayer fanfic #kny imagines

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Rumors

Corpse Husband x Bimbo!Reader (Female)

Warnings: Mentions of Slut Shaming, Swearing

Genre: Fluff, Tiniest bit of Angst, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: When some rumors start floating around, every content creator does their best to either ignore them or defuse the situation. However, sometimes, the fans attempt to do the defusing themselves which only leads to a worse disaster. That’s the case for Corpse whose fans were quick to jump to his protection of some ‘false’ rumors.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request, it was a joy to write. I’m sorry for how long it has taken me to complete and post the fic but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy reading it at least half as much as I enjoyed writing it! Love, Vy ❤

Corpse cracks his knuckles, then his shoulders, then his collarbone, then the his neck. He clenches his jaw as he breathes steadily and rhythmically, trying to control an overwhelming wave of anger that he has never felt before. This is a situation he’s never had to deal with nor did he ever think he’d have to deal with and address on a fucking livestream on top of all, but here he is now, doing his best to count to ten and not go on a Twitter responding spree, calling people out on their bullshit. He wanted to do so, he still wants to, but he was stopped in his intentions and brought to a calm mindset where he was swayed into dealing with this the civil way and not by roasting the fuck out of any and every foul-mouthed person he’s seen on his Twitter timeline.

He can’t really guarantee and civility during the stream either, he’s aware his tolerance is as thin as a stretched out, old rubber band and is a slight tug away from snapping and allowing him to unleash hell on these people because of who he’s been seeing red these past few days.

Let’s not risk a misunderstanding here - Corpse absolutely loves and adores his fans, but seeing this behavior from them is quite upsetting and disappointing. When he uses the terms like ‘assholes’, ‘jerks’ and ‘rude motherfuckers’ he isn’t referring to them. He knows they are good people, but are using the completely wrong tactic of defending him, not to mention he doesn’t even need defending. Even if he did, he’s more than capable of doing it on his own and not getting other people involved.

“Hello everyone, hope you’re doing well.“ He finally settles on saying, officially kicking off the stream. If there’s any indicator of the serious nature of this stream, it’s probably the lack of lo-fi and the lack of even attempted playfulness and cheeriness in his voice. That’s how you know shit isn’t to be messed around about. “I just realized I didn’t specify what I’ll be doing in the Tweet, but I’ll tell you now, so those who aren’t interested in the subject or want to steer clear of the drama can leave. However, I wouldn’t advise clicking off considering this will be an overall, how do I say this, rant, of sorts? It’s meant to knock some sense in the people who have been spreading hate for a specific person on all social media platforms she’s active on.“

The majority of the viewers are already familiar with the subject, some even guilty of spreading the hate Corpse mentioned, but there are a few that are completely clueless - the ones actually not interested in online drama, not just saying they ‘hate drama’. With those people in mind, Corpse takes to addressing the issue from its very beginning.

“So, for a month now, me and this streamer, who’s also a TikTok star, by the name of Y/N have been interacting a lot on social media. She’s an incredibly sweet girl that a lot of people have prejudice towards. She’s very misjudged and misunderstood because people see he solely as her content, if that makes sense. They only know she’s that streamer who wears revealing clothes on her streams and posts risqué pictures on her Instagram. Like, no.“ Corpse cannot even fully believe he has to address this and that slut-shaming people is still a thing in the twenty-first century. He closes his eyes for a moment, fist tightening and his knuckles turning white, “I don’t understand how so many people can be so shallow and just plain jerks towards her in general, but then again - this is especially for my fans, the members of my fandom - I don’t understand the need you guys feel to put Y/N down to defend me from some ridiculous rumors as if it’s the first time I’ve had to deal with people talking shit for attention or to get someone canceled.“ He sighs, reminding himself to slow his roll as to not confuse any viewers who still don’t know the full story, “Anyway, back to the timeline of events. So, considering we’ve never interacted before, all the replying to comments, retweeting, liking posts and whatever sparked some dating rumors. Isn’t that just fucking hilarious - you see two people interacting on social media and the first thing that comes to mind is that they’re in a romantic relationship. Where did the friendship go? Does no one value or consider friendships to be a valid type of human relation anymore?“ He runs a hand through his hair, making another pause to clear his mind and prevent his frustration from overflowing. He promised he wouldn’t lose his cool and would remain calm and collected, but the more he talks about it the tighter he clenches his fist and the faster his heartrate is. His neck and ears are red from the tension he feels all over, almost like he’s physically restraining a raging wild animal and not just his own thoughts and emotions.

There’s layers to his anger, the lower ones - aka the ones he’s yet to get to - will be a nightmarish test of his self-control, he already knows it. Judging by how much of a toll this rant has already taken on him, his patience and control growing thinner and thinner, he’s not sure how he’ll power through the last layers without his voice raising awfully high in volume and his fists searching for some object to punch. To an ignorant eye, his reaction would seem exaggerated and overboard, but little does that ignorant eye know...

“When some of my fans saw those rumors, they reacted very badly. It was quite disappointing to see. Guys, I appreciate you standing up for me even though you shouldn’t do that - I can defend myself, not that this was a matter I needed defending from to begin with. But just the way some of you went about it was horrifically wrong and quite upsetting, to me but especially to Y/N herself.“ He can feel it, the aggravation growing, bubbling up in his chest, “What I saw disgusted me, I’m not gonna sugarcoat it. The things some of you were saying...I couldn’t believe you are in fact the same people who are my fans, my lovely fans who I’ve always thought so highly of. Never did I think you could be able of slut-shaming so vulgarly and grossly, I couldn’t believe what I was reading.“

He has every right to be upset - the things being said about Y/N were truly awful and a lot of things being said were meant to defend Corpse and defuse the rumors, doing so while stomping all over Y/N and her content. Rightfully so, many of her fans were outraged and quick to jump to her defense but were unfortunately outnumbered, leading Corpse to believe not many of her fans are actually real or as dedicated as his which only fueled his fury further.

Anyway, let’s take a look at Y/N’s point of view. Being a content creator for as long as she has, refusing to change her style no matter how many people disagreed and insulted her about it, she’s grown quite used to people spitting insults at her on every social media possible. It’s sad how throughout the majority of her content creating career she’s only had haters, creeps and fake fans watching her videos and streams. Rare are those in her fandom who’d actually stick up for her and defend her in ‘scandals’ such as this one. However, no amount of experience with dealing with hate could have prepared her for this outpour of some of the meanest shit she’s ever heard and been called in her life.

Y/N likes the content she makes, she’s comfortable in her skin and loves her body. She loves showing it off too and nor she nor anyone who wants that deserves to be shamed for who they are and what they do, especially when they aren’t hurting anyone and their content is still appropriate. People have always bashed her for all elements of who she is: her appearance, her clothing style, her streams, her gaming skills, her voice on occasion. She can count the instances when she’s received positive feedback on the fingers of her hands which would depress anyone else but not her. She’s always created content for her own amusement and entertainment so people’s opinions never really bothered her. Until now, until this very drama that has hit a specific nerve, an insecurity of hers she’s never talked about. The comments such as:

(Vy Speaking: Comments containing slut-shaming ahead, go to ### if you want to skip)

“Corpse would never date a slut like her“

“Corpse dating this thot? Please internet stop being ridiculous“

“Corpse ain’t a pimp, y’all need to chill“

“Even if they datin they gon break up soon - whore stays a whore“

###

bothered her far more than she’d like to admit. She has no one to open up about it either, she knows what she’ll get in response if she does - she’ll be told it’s her fault. Her fault because of the way she dresses, the way she talks and acts, because she chose this career to begin with. All her fault. The only person she can turn to she refuses to because she doesn’t want to be a bother - not after so many people confirmed her worries that she’s not good enough for him already anyway, the least she can do is avoid bothering him the best she can.

And that is exactly why this has upset Corpse so much.

“Here’s a little message specifically meant for those who claimed I’d never date someone like Y/N or specifically Y/N. You better listen carefully: Don’t you ever, and I mean EVER slut-shame my girlfriend or any other person ever. I cannot believe I have to explicitly remind you that your behavior isn’t ok. You should fucking know that your behavior isn’t right and that you’re a massive piece of shit for saying those awful things about others you judge solely on appearance and clothing. Does it surprise you that I am, in fact, dating Y/N? If you say yes for the reason you think she’s not good enough for me or that I deserve better, please get the fuck out of my fandom. No one disrespects my girl and gets away with it. That’s final!“

Though still under the influence of a flurry of negative emotions, overhearing Corpse literally telling people to exclude themselves from his fandom for being mean to her, Y/N’s taking a step towards emotional recovery knowing her boyfriend will always have her back. He’ll always be there to prove people wrong, defend her and stand by her. He’ll be there to catch her when the hate knocks her off her feet.

But most importantly: he’ll never ask her to change. Not her style, not her clothes, not her personality, nothing. He fell for her the way she is and for who she is, and he will never allow anyone to try to change her either. For someone who’s never had much support all her life, a single speck of support overpowers all the hate within the blink of an eye. Corpse will always be her knight in shining armor, the knight who defeated all the hateful demons by just entering her life. And though she’s still struggling with the ‘Am I good enough for someone so wonderful?’ and ‘He deserves better, doesn’t he?’ questions, with his hand holding hers, she’ll never let those doubts and insecurities overpower her.

@maat-the-prescriptive @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @itsminniekat @hacker-ghost @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat @idontknowwhatthisisfam @evi-ka @classyandfabulous00 @redperson58 @lilysdaydreams @solowheein @mythicalamphitrite @axen-gers @luckygirl144 @nj01 @buddyemily @the-albino-lioness @stardream14 @gdhdkfnn @nomadicgypsyy @preciousskye @fluffysuicideunicornsworld @o-kaelin @manacharlotte @awkward-youtube-trash @lolalee24 @bonky-beerns @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian @strawbrinkofdeath @teenloves @tams0527 @browneyespinkhair @starstruckllamapuppy @daisychains012 @y0ulooked @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life @jula-pauline @melodykitty @just-that-bi-girl @crazybutconfidentaf @lowellshade @alphakees @bellero @weallneednamjesus @starryhanji @boiled-onionrings @husherstan @fockingwhore @melaningoddessthings @prettypastelpetals @haleypearce @godwhyamiawkward @y-napotat @daisychainyoonmin @little-miss-rebel3 @free-wheelin-bi-sexual @redmoon261 @darkacademic2 @wiseflamingoqueen @into-the-end @namikhai-i @nastiablr @thelittleplantlover @mirktuan @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny @vintagegothlover @easygoingtheatre @itsrandombooklover @miiaivi @emmybaybee @befourgolden @jjk-is-my-shit @eternalteaaars @spacebadgerx @princesslunalight @acequinn14 @samm48 @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa @fo-love @marishimomura-blog @therealglenncoco @cinnamonbun332 @killtherandomness @sanshinexxxsan @fee-btheweeb @press-lay @cathleenpotgieter16 @jazzydoesstuff @moonlxghtbay @forestrain2000 @hyunjinhugs @blood-of-fandoms @lovellylies @ukiyolixx @simpforhpcharacters @chrisdylan17 @parkerjisung @pedernille @theodonyous @wineandionysus @malfoystilinskii05 @morbid-x @coryisagee @jessewa26 @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365 @raeanneinwonderland @indecisive-empanada @gluttonypalace @loriane2503 @btsiguess-kpop @khaoticbunny @lucidlycactus @smiithys @rottenroyalebooks @kpopgirlbtssvt @fangirl-tc27 @fr0z3n-1 @notmesimpingfortechno @shotarosleftpinky @kunoi-chan @idk-whats-wrong-with-me @yikeroonie @goldenstarofthunderclan @poetry-and-tea @ama-do-writing-stuff @wishbonewolf @emeraldxhope @t0xick1tty @kusuinko @speakyourselfloveyourself @sophia902103 @lo-manburg @classsykittykat @dmgama @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee @btsiguess-kpop @akaashi-baby @gun-jong-simp @geschichtenfee @yerapotato-wp @browneyedgirl365 @thysagclub @sparklycloudnight @helloatomicshadow @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal @lucy-bunny17 @aaliyahh0 @katluckybear @boyleanti @straybids @franchesca-791 @cosmicstorm19 @averyisbackinthetrashcan @hisokaslefttiti

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t0wnspersonb · 4 years

Text

Caught (Bakugou Katsuki x Reader)

ari0425

said:

Hi! Um I was wondering if you could write a Domestic Bakugou where they were doing the do and there two kids caught them? Just wondering😁

~~~~

Word Count: 1,675

Rated: Explicit

Warnings: slight smut, bad language, slight edging

~~~~

Yooooo, I had so much fun writing this lmao. I literally love writing all things Bakugou as a husband! It’s kinda short and it might be shitty lol so I apologize in advance. @ari0425 I hope I wrote this to your liking!😭😭😭 sorry it’s so late! Obviously requests are open and I’ll try and get to as much of them as I can. I’m so sorry for not being as active with my own content, life has just been super busy for me😭 My best friend is coming over tomorrow to chop off my hair so hopefully that goes well lol, and I will be officially out of my boot (hopefully) in the next week! I’ve honestly been walking on the broken technically since last week since it wasn’t hurting so hopefully I didn’t fuck anything up. Guess I’ll find out in a week! ANYWAY, I hope you guys have a wonderful weekend and don’t be shy about any comments or requests! I literally adore you all so much and I’m so very thankful and happy you guys like reading my shit💕💕💕🤗 stay happy and safe!

~~~~

“Why not?” Bakugou growled, his muscular arms folding across his chest. The sudden movement distracted you for a moment, and you couldn’t help but appreciate your husband’s strength.

His bulging arm muscles were thick and taut as they rested across his chest, his broad shoulders exposed to your greedy eyes; tank tops were designed with your husband’s physique in mind, you were sure of it. But you were also sure that he knew exactly what he was doing, because a smirk began to tug at his lips.

“I told you Katsuki, we have a busy day tomorrow with the kids.” You sighed, folding your own arms over your chest, your back leaning against the counter, an eyebrow raised; challenging the large hero before you.

His smirk dropped, a large scowl now taking its place. “It’s always about the fucking kids.”

You rolled your eyes at his statement.

Despite the rough words, you knew what he meant. Bakugou adored his children, he was a doting father, in his own way; but everyone knew that he would go to the ends of the earth for his children, he would protect them and cherish them no matter what. The minute he knew that you were pregnant, both times, he had never been happier. Bakugou could account for the five happiest times in his life, when you agreed to go out with him, when he became a pro hero, when you married him, and when you gave birth to his beautiful daughter, and then his beautiful son.

So, while his children were his pride and joy, sometimes… sometimes… he just wanted them to fucking go away.

He couldn’t remember the last time he was able to have you all to himself, and fuck, did he miss you. He craved having all of your undivided attention, being able to be alone with you. It had been far too long.

“Why can’t they go have a sleepover at Deku’s with his kids?” he huffed angrily.

You rolled your eyes again. “We can’t just pawn off our children to Izuku whenever you want to get your dick wet Katsu. Besides, they all hung out last week, when you and Izuku had that call about the hostage situation. I watched all of them.”

His eyes flashed in annoyance at your statement, his tall frame stalking over to you. You could never get used to how big Bakugou was compared to your small frame, his entire being radiated strength and power, it made you feel safe, secure… and most of all, it made you nervous.

Not because you were scared of him, far from it, but because it had been a long time since the last time you two were intimate. The physical aspect of your relationship was always there, always important to you, but recently it had just been hard to find the time to be together in that way, especially with how clingy your son started being, and how your daughter was involved in more activities at school that needed attention.

You could feel your heart racing as he towered over you, his large arms caging you in as his hands rested against the counter top on either side of your body, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me princess, it’s not just me that wants to get my dick wet. I’m sure you’ve been wanting to use that mouth for other things than just back talking to me.” He said lowly, his voice deep and dark, one of his hands came up to grab at your jaw, the rough pad of his thumb rubbed gently against your lower lip.

Your breath hitched in your throat, a familiar ache beginning to settle at the bottom of your stomach.

How did you get such a gorgeous husband?

“So, let’s just drop off the shitty kids with the old lady and be together already.” he finished, his fingers sliding down, wrapping themselves easily around your throat. He squeezed his fingers carefully, but there was enough pressure that caused a soft whimper to escape your lips. Bakugou sneered down at you, he knew your body far too well, knew exactly how to touch you to make you bend to his will.

But when your mind finally registered what he had said, a large scowl covered your lips, the arousal you were feeling simmering down dramatically.

“Don’t call our kids shitty, and we are not dropping them off with your mom when she just saw them yesterday. You either calm yourself down Katsuki or I’m not going to touch you for an even longer time.” you threatened, your palm resting flat against his muscular chest.

He growled angrily, stepping back away from you and shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “Why are you denying me so much? You fucking shit, aren’t you supposed to be taking care of your husband?”

“Shut up and go set the table Katsuki.” You sighed, turning towards the stove to finish dinner.

It was silent for a moment, and then his large arms wrapped carefully around your waist, hugging you softly to his muscular body.

A soft smile tugged at your lips when you felt his plush lips gently press against your cheek, and then he was gone. You turned to look at him stalk out of the kitchen and into the living room, probably to go round-up the kids.

Bakugou Katsuki might be rough, but underneath that hard exterior that man was entirely soft when it came to you and his kids.

****

This wasn’t how you imagined this morning going.

Soft moans were being muffled by hungry kisses, the sound of ruffling sheets and skin slapping against one another surrounded the quiet room.

Perfection.

That was this was.

“Fuck, you feel so perfect wrapped around my cock princess.” Bakugou growled, his hips thrusting deep into your core.

You whimpered softly, your eyes rolling into the back of your head at the immense amount of pleasure. He filled you to the brim, your tight heat engulfing him completely.

This was what he had been missing, what you had been missing. The pleasure, the intimacy of feeling each other’s bare bodies sliding against one another, it was all too much.

“Katuski, w-wait…” You panted out, your hands grabbing at his broad shoulders, sliding down to hold onto his forearms, the familiar pressure was beginning to bubble up again, filling you up and aching to break through.

“Again? This is your third one princess, did you miss my cock that much?” he mocked you, one of his hands reaching down to rub at your clit, ghosting over the bundle of nerves, not quite putting pressure down, but the touch alone was enough to cause your body to arch up off of the bed in pleasure. You could feel tears prickling at your eyes, your body aching for release, except now that Bakugou knew that you were close, he was going to drag it out as much as possible.

The cruel bastard.

“Katsuki please,” you cried, his thrusts slowing down, he dragged his member out of your body before pressing back into your tight heat deeply, savoring every second of your begging, of your wet core.

“Beg harder princess.” he growled out, a sadistic smirk etching itself onto his lips. “I want to hear you beg for it.”

A whimper tore through your lips at his cruel words and slow pace.

You ached for release now, no words being able to form in your mouth, which didn’t sit well with Bakugou since he gave a particular hard and deep thrust at your silence.

His thumb suddenly pressed down hard against your clit, rubbing fast and rough, causing a jolt of pleasure to ripple through your body.

You felt it then, the wall cracking as your release began to build up and up and…

“Mama?”

You and Bakugou froze, both of your heads snapping over to the small child that stood near the now open door. Your son rubbed at his eyes sleepily, his teddy bear dragged against the ground in his other hand.

You would’ve thought it was the most adorable sight you had ever seen, except for the fact that your husband was still buried deep inside of you. You silently thanked the universe for the fact that the sheets were still wrapped around your guys’ body, covering you up completely.

Your son looked at you in confusion for a second, taking in the scene before his little three-year-old eyes and then…

His face turned angry. He was the spitting image of Bakugou, except for the eyes and his personality, that took after you.

“Wow really?” your daughter suddenly appeared at the door, looking at you guys in disgust. While your son might look like your husband, your daughter looked just like you, minus the hair and her personality. Those of which she inherited from her father.

The personality part was a bit unfortunate, especially considering how much she and Bakugou butted heads, especially now that she had just turned nine.

“Get off my mama!” Your son began to yell. “You are hurting her!”

Your eyes widened in surprise and you watched as your son began taking a step towards you guys only for your daughter to grab his hand.

“She’s fine.” She said curtly. “Let’s go watch cartoons. Leave mama and shitty papa alone right now.”

Your lips twitched in amusement at her words, she was definitely Bakugou’s first born, that much was obvious.

“Oi, you shitty fucking brat what did you just call me!?” Bakugou growled, a tick mark appearing above his head as he looked at his children.

“Shitty papa.” Your daughter said simply and closed the door as she walked off with her brother in tow.

“What the fuck! Who the fuck taught you that word you little shit!?” Bakugou screamed out.

Laughter bubbled up through your lips, causing Bakugou to scream at you next for laughing.

But you couldn’t help it, your heart was entirely full right now.

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chainofclovers · 3 years

Text

Ted Lasso 2x8 thoughts

I am so lucky that the creators of Ted Lasso decided to make this entire show specifically for me. #blessed

If last week felt like a bit of breathing room (albeit tense, poignant, character-progressing breathing room) with distinct narrative lines, this week’s episode was a chaotic yet tightly-written swirl of pain and hope and sadness! No neat subject headers for this one, y’all. Just my brain and heart in the inadequate form of a bulleted list. It is the medium available to me at this time.

I am going to remember the moment when Ted calls Sharon and tells her his father killed himself for the rest of my life.

(I could say a bunch of stuff about his face and what he says and how he tries to hide his tears from Beard right after and how insanely much I adore this character and ahhhhhhhh but I’m just going to leave that scene there in our collective memories.)

Jamie. JAMIE. Higgins has given some great advice about love on this show, but his musings about his up-and-down relationship with his own father were not helpful in the context of Jamie’s dad, who is an abusive piece of shit. I really adore that all of the main AFC Richmond staff members are realistically a bit hit-or-miss with their advice and life philosophies (some are mostly miss this season, of course).

And I am completely in awe of the moment when Jamie punches his father. The way he just stands there after Beard kicks his dad out of the locker room. The way you can hear a pin drop. And Roy—Roy who is learning in so many areas of his life about his influence on people, learning that the things he needs aren’t necessarily the same as the things other people need—is the one to cross the room and hug him. Hold him, really, with the tenderness Ted used when he hugged Rebecca outside the gala in 1x4. God.

I’ve thought a lot about how s1 was about giving people a soft place to land. There’s always an angel there when you need one. There’s always an opportunity to be kind. If you look for someone, you find them. If you look for the good in someone, you find the good. And as everyone works through their individual journeys in s2, that can’t always be the case anymore. But there are still so many moments of angels on this show, and it’s not about chance and serendipity and fate [not that it was about that in s1] but about the effort it takes to become someone who can be there for someone else. Or who can be there for yourself. I’m so proud of Jamie for physically fighting back against his father. I’m so proud of Roy for being the one who recognized what Jamie needed.

I have every feeling in the world about how Ted is almost totally frozen both times (s1 and s2) he witnesses Jamie’s father abusing him. In s1, he was still there for Jamie after, and I have every reason to believe he’ll be there for Jamie after this incident as well, but that frozen stance HURTS. He’s in so deep with his pain about his own father that it’s like he physically cannot snap out of it to act in the moment. It seems entirely outside of his control, and it breaks my heart, because Ted wants so badly to be a good father, a good coach, a good friend, a good partner, a good patient. He’s there for people in all kinds of ways, even in his current less-than-capable state. He takes care of Sharon post-concussion and even gets her a new bike! During the disastrous match at Wembley his coaching is ineffectual and everything is chaos but he’s the last one standing on the pitch! But this really awful thing keeps happening to Jamie and Ted is just…frozen in the face of it. Like one of those nightmares where you’re running in place.

The frozen-in-place nightmare also kind of applies to the way the total separation between Ted and Rebecca feels, too. I have never for a moment doubted the writers’ intentions in setting these characters up as soulmates on parallel journeys, and I’m actually really digging (on a story level) how disconnected they are right now. It is IMPRESSIVE that their absence in each other’s lives feels like such a glaring loss, one we cannot forget even as there are so many other things happening onscreen. It is 100% not just shipper goggles making me process information about Ted while thinking about Rebecca and information about Rebecca while thinking about Ted. I know there are a lot of really angry and frustrated people in the fandom right now (both T/R shippers and T/R antis and non-shipping fans who don’t get why s2 is different from s1) and while I understand being frustrated by choices characters make, and frustrated by the feelings the show makes us feel that we just want to feel more of or less of, I continue to agree with pretty much every narrative choice happening right now.

Agreeing with the narrative like this?! This is such a unique experience for me as a viewer—to feel like I’m on a ride that is at once absolutely wild and incredibly sensible and well-crafted, and to feel simultaneously completely invested and anticipatory and speculative but also totally willing to trust where it goes. I long for Ted and Beard to really talk. I long for Ted and Rebecca to stop missing each other. I long for Roy to have a serious conversation with Ted about what’s happening with him. I long for Keeley to find a vocation, something that drives her beyond her projects. I long for so many things! But I wouldn’t long for them if this show was less good. If the show was less good, I wouldn’t have a wish list a mile long because I wouldn’t be so attuned to the details and potential lurking in every scene. THIS IS SUCH A GOOD SHOW, I CANNOT HANDLE IT, I LOVE IT SO MUCH.

(To that end, a great deal of the Ted Lasso tag and so many Twitter reactions reactions to the show feel super stressful right now and I am kind of just trying not to look?! I love this fandom so much because of the amazing conversations that happen and because of brilliant fic and because there are some awesome people I never would have encountered were it not for this show. That little bubble is wonderful and I’d stay in this fandom no matter what in order to keep experiencing those things. But fans’ catastrophic reactions to every little thing that happens, every little choice a character makes that isn’t the “perfect” choice? The takeaway that the writers—on this show of all shows—wake up in the morning ready for another day of torturing shippers rather than another day of writing a beautiful story they genuinely want to write? I do not enjoy those parts at all. I would like to opt out of those parts. I’m having such a magical experience watching this show and talking about this show and listening about this show and writing about this show with a variety of people who feel all kinds of ways. I truly wish I could somehow transfer the energy of this experience onto all the people who are hating it right now. I don’t mind at all that people are having vastly different reactions to this show and are sharing their honest feelings, including the really angry ones (I can appreciate something and disagree with it!), and I get that sometimes the language of fannish reactions is intentionally, ironically hyperbolic. But there feels like this very serious trend of people legitimately thinking writers on this show are targeting shippers and have lost respect for their characters, and I just feel like an alien from another planet when I see that stuff. I guess I just feel like people make art because they want their art to be visible to other people and to themselves, but that doesn’t typically involve specifically catering to or torturing a subset of that audience?)

I am more fascinated by Sharon Fieldstone than ever before. I have been running through every single action with her and Ted so many times. The confirmation that she’s living in club-provided housing (that could not look more different from Ted’s club-provided flat). Ted clearly noticing the many bottles. Sharon’s face while she tries to casually recycle them. (Sharon could legitimately have a more problematic relationship with alcohol than Ted does, and I find that extremely interesting and am very curious to find out what happens there.) Sharon leaving him voice notes while she’s concussed, probably because she’d been thinking about him shortly before the accident. The way Ted calls her and does all the funny voices and it’s not frustrating like all the times he uses his silliness and allusions to deflect during their prior conversations because this time, those behaviors are just a part of him showing care for another person. The way they stretch each other, and Ted is still wrong about the things he’s been wrong about, but they both grow all the same.

While it is pretty much impossible for me to imagine that this show would include an actual romantic relationship between Ted and Sharon (it would be beyond unethical even if they could write it well, and Sharon in particular is so professional and committed to her work, and it would erase so much of the powerful message about the importance of seeking therapy from a professional who is not your friend or partner, and I would totally hate it), watching this episode was the first moment I had this queasy little feeling that it’s possible that Ted could end up developing really complicated feelings about Sharon since, at this point, he’s been honest with her about things he’s hardly spoken about before and you can really form an attachment to people you feel safe with in a new way. (I mean, I’m sure Michelle knows what happened with Ted’s father, but I’m not even certain if Beard does.) He’s so broken right now, and Sharon is such a great person and so different from anyone else in his life (even though Rebecca is also different, and Beard is also different, and Roy is also different, and so on), that I could see things getting really fuzzy for him. I continue to have faith in the way the storylines on this show are handled. I’m just. Putting this here.

(In saying that, though, I also wanna make it really clear that I don’t just automatically assume anytime a new female character is introduced that they’re going to end up becoming a romantic complication. Like, Phoebe is allowed to have a teacher who is an attractive woman and AFC Richmond is allowed to have a sports psychologist who is an attractive woman and Keeley is allowed to talk to Jamie Tartt without it threatening what she has with Roy and all these people can exist as human beings without the introduction of romantic drama.)

Isaac gives every player one haircut per season, OH MY GOD. The JOY during the haircut scene. YES.

KEELEY AND REBECCA. Their text thread. The affirming video call right before Rebecca goes into the restaurant. The way Keeley sits all snuggled up against Rebecca in her office.

I was pretty thoroughly spoiled for the Sam and Rebecca plot through 2x8, and I was bracing for something far more problematic and tortured than what happens in this episode. The words I would use to describe their scenes: awkward, cute, cringy, and understandable. There are a million reasons why this relationship isn’t sustainable, but I felt completely understanding of both their choices here. This show has a lot of thesis statements, but I keep going back to the idea from 2x1 that there are people who enter your life to help you get to the next point, and I think it’s entirely possible that Sam and Rebecca will mutually be that for each other.

I find comparisons between Rupert and Rebecca super upsetting. There are absolutely meaningful things to say about the irony of ending up in a situation with an uncomfortable resemblance to certain taboo elements of an ex’s situation. But that ex is abusive and manipulative and cruel and Rebecca has exhibited NONE of those behaviors, and it makes me really sad to think that people feel that the writers on this show have betrayed Rebecca in giving her this storyline.

As always, I reserve the right to keep blathering about this show. I’ve had a headache for a couple of days, but my head is also so full of 2x8 thoughts that I couldn’t keep them in even if the circumstances for writing this were not ideal. I kind of hate that I’ve included frustrated fandom thoughts within the analysis of what I felt was an absolutely gorgeous, complicated, heartbreaking, near-perfect episode of television, but if ya can’t be a little dramatic on your own tumblr while you’re feeling raw and under the weather, where can ya?

#ted lasso #ted lasso s2 spoilers #meta by me #ted lasso 2x8 #a lesbian watches ted lasso #cw: suicide mention #cw: alcohol abuse mention

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dreaminpetals · 3 years

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COMMISSION: norton & naib watch their s/o bleed out on the rocket chair, then comfort each other after 🧲 🔪

norton campbell ;;

Your heart dropped to your feet when you heard the chime that indicated a survivor had been knocked down. You prayed as you decoded ー Please don't be Nor, please don't be Nor ...

Hearing a laboured "Focus on decoding!" confirmed your fears. It was muffled, distant, but distinct. Norton had been chaired.

The frantic hammering of your heart in your ears overtook your senses as you sprinted towards the chair, shouting to Helena that you were going to rescue him. Your heart overpowers your brain whenever Norton is in even the slightest ounce of danger. This was one of those instances. You should have thought twice before hurrying to his aid.

You exhaled a sigh of relief when you approached his chair and noticed there was no hunter to be seen. Norton however had the opposite reaction. His expression contorted into one of pure terror when he saw you were the one rescuing him.

"Leave me! Get away from me!" His words fell to deaf ears as you dashed towards him, arms open and ready to free him from his confines.

Everything was going smoothly until you heard the words that would stay with you forever.

"Jack is behind you!"

It was a trap.

In a heartbeat, your back was slashed open and you collapsed to your hands and knees.

"Lovebirds," Jack hummed, stomping on your wounded back, earning a scream from Norton. "Now, where's that decoder..." he turned on his heel and vanished to hunt down Helena with an unmistakable bloodlust.

You weren't panicking yet. You could simply heal yourself, andー

You were out of self heals.

"The hunter is near me!" Helena wailed from across the map, sending ice straight down the spines of you and your boyfriend. The fourth survivor had been eliminated already. There was no saving you.

Norton's entire body was wracked by sobs as you lay curled in a ball on the ground, writhing around in utter agony. If it wasn't for the bar squeezing him down into the rocket chair, he would bandage you up and press endless kisses onto your bloodied skin, his own safety be damned.

He had never seen anybody bleed out before. The Prospector has always managed to heal his teammates, his only punishments being faced on rocket chairs. In Norton's eyes, you were going to die.

"It's okay," you choked out, "I'll be... be..."

"You're going to die," Norton whimpered in the highest tone you've ever heard from him. He sounded like a child with the way his raspy voice cracked.

Your eyes widened at his words. Did he think bleeding out was fatal? Oh no.

You ached to explain to him that the worst consequences were comas that lasted no longer than a week, but you were losing strength. Fast. As your throat closed up, speech became more and more difficult. It felt as if glass was piercing your windpipe, concealing the truth from your guilt stricken lover.

"'Sall my fault... fuck, I love you, okay?" He hiccuped through strained wheezes for air.

'Don't say that... I'll be okay...' you yearned to respond, but each second the invisible weight on your back grew, crushing you further.

Although your vision was spotting and blurring, you could see Norton tremble where he sat. His fingers gripped the bar holding him hostage until they bled. He was using all of his strength to attempt to free you somehow.

With one final, ragged breath, you closed your eyes and succumbed to your injuries. Norton didn't scream like you thought he would. He watched you sink into the ground in utter silence, sniffing back tears and coughing sporadically.

Despite the agony you endured mere minutes ago, you weren't rendered unconscious like previous, less fortunate survivors. You could walk, albeit with jittery legs and a weight on your back forcing you down. Having regained some strength, you noted that you could speak as well. Every bone in your body was aching for you to find Norton and save him from his unnecessary grief.

You immediately captured Helena's undivided attention when you hobbled into the manor, leaving a steady red trail behind you. She wrapped your wounds up with the first aid kit she kept on her, the smell of blood that lingered in the air faded with every careful swipe of your skin. Since you were in the room for injured survivors, Norton didn't see you when he stormed back into the manor. His physical wounds were nothing compared to his emotional ones. If only Helena finished patching you up just a minute earlier, he could have seen that you survived far earlier.

"Norton is in your room, by the way," Helena began, patting you on the back to signal that her work was done, "in the one you share. I asked where he was going."

"Our room," you repeated to yourself under your breath. You thanked Helena and promptly headed to your room, legs carrying you as fast as they could take you.

You were out of breath once you reached your shared room. A series of knocks on the door were greeted with silence. You noticed that the static sobbing from the room paused for a moment, then resumed.

Twisting your key into the door and unlocking it, you saw Norton swiftly hide your shirt underneath your pillow. Was he trying to get the last of your scent before it faded away forever?

"So. You've come to haunt me too." He spat, burning holes into your face with his unwelcoming glare. "Just like everyone else from the mines. Fuck off."

"Norton, it's me,"

"You're only pretending to be them. Second I acknowledge you're not real you'll go away."

His words shattered your heart.

Approaching him with caution, you kneeled onto the bed beside him and placed your palm on his cheek. He leaned into your touch despite his harsh words, his tear streaked face dampening your hand. "If I wasn't real, would I be this warm?" You whispered as soft as your voice could manage to be. His eyebrows furrowed as he stared into your eyes, searching for any signs of life. Your eyes were too warm and full of adoration to be a hallucination, a ghost, a memory.

"How did you...?" he began, teetering on the verge of tears again.

"I'm hurt, but... I'd never die on you, Nor. It's okay. I'm here." You pressed a nurturing kiss to his nose and felt his face heat up underneath yours. Pressing your forehead against his, he felt no malicious intent from you, unlike all the other visions he saw of his deported loved ones. He felt nothing but love and kindness from you, the same way he's always remembered you.

"It's really you," he uttered your name like a prayer, voice flickering above a whisper, before enveloping you in his arms and pulling you snug close to him. He bawled into your shoulder, letting the warmth of your body comfort him after one of the most horrifying moments of his life. You could feel his snot and hot tears bubble on your shoulder but you didn't mind in the slightest. You were home, in Norton's arms.

You knew that for Norton to cry in front of you, he was wounded deep. It was rare to see tears fall from his eyes and to feel him cling to you, terrified of letting go. Between pants, you could hear him beg for you to stay and never die on him. His pleas were answered by soft hushes and gentle kisses.

Norton pulled away for a fleeting moment to turn you around and examine your wounded back. There was a rip through your top and underneath were bandages stained with dry blood. Helena did a decent job of patching you up, though she definitely missed a few spots. Norton pressed chaste kisses to the exposed skin, his silent way of reassuring you he loved you no matter what.

"I'll kill him for doing this to you," your boyfriend hissed, teeth ghosting along your flesh. "I'll make him pay." His mouth was still connected to your back, and he could feel you shiver in response to his words.

"Nor, you don't needー"

"I'll never let anyone hurt you again. If anyone... if anyone ever does this to you a second time, I'll..."

"Norton."

Your sudden sharp tone caused him to freeze. Had he gone too far? His demeanour immediately switched and he pulled away from you, offering you a toothy grin to show he sincerely meant no harm.

You pulled your shirt back down and turned around so your calm eyes could meet his wide ones. "I'll be okay. I'm more worried about you, if anything. Come here." You patted your lap and the back of Norton's fluffy hair soon met your thighs. He laid down and began to rub the tears from his eyes, before you pushed his hands away and rubbed them into nothingness yourself.

He loved laying in your lap. Whether he was having flashbacks of past events, or if he was hurt from a match, laying his head on your soft thighs and gazing up at you with love never failed to calm him down. He felt so safe and warm.

"Have a little rest, Nor. I'll be here when you wake up." You rubbed calming circles into his hair as he nodded. His eyes closed, then opened again to ensure that you really were there and you truly were alive. You shushed him, both hands massaging his scalp until he drifted off into a comfortable sleep. He would do anything for you.

naib subedar ;;

"Naib's been containing the hunter for so long, you think we should help out?" Luca asked you as the two of you drummed away at a cipher machine together. You nodded your head in agreement, pulling yourself away from the noisy machine and overturning your empty pockets.

"I don't have any self heals, though. I'll shout if I need anything." This time it was Luca's turn to nod as he smacked the machine, steadily making progress towards your escape.

You roamed the abandoned factory for a few moments before hearing a distant yelp and the sound of someone falling to the ground. You followed the source of the sound to the factory, and the metallic clunks of Guard 26 carrying your lover to the basement made your skin crawl. This rescue was going to be tremendously difficult.

"Don't rescue me!" Naib managed to rasp as the hunter slammed him into the rocket chair. You could hear the pain in his voice even though he tried to mask it. It was always like Naib to hide his true feelings behind a cold front.

You knew Guard 26 chairing your only rescuer in the basement was a recipe for disaster, but you wanted to at least attempt to save him.

Hopping down the stairs, you were met face to face with the hunter. Their cogs whirred as they advanced towards you, and you stunned them momentarily.

"Oh, you're so stupid [Name]," Naib sighed as your fingers danced across the bar holding him captive. "Go back to where it's safe!" You ignored his cries and slid to the side, dodging one of Guard 26's strikes. The floor began to light up in an array of colours under you which you miraculously dodged, earning a gasp from your chaired lover.

Unfortunately, you weren't able to pull off the rescue of your dreams this time. You attempted to psyche out the hunter and trick them into hitting the chair, but their spiked bat met your side before you could pull away. Despite arriving without even a scratch, the impact of being hit as you rescued caused you to fall to your knees.

 Blood pooled underneath you and you gritted your teeth as you waited to be chaired, the pain overriding your senses and bringing tears to your eyes.

That relief never came.

The haunting dings of Guard 26 slowly dissipated as they hopped up the stairs to find Luca. There were several other chairs in the basement, why didn't they chair you? It must be in their wiring to save as much time as possible.

You clutched at your stomach, wincing as crimson bloomed on your shirt. Panic hadn't filled your veins yet. You applied pressure to your wound, using the same healing tactics Naib had taught you before. Your plan was to do all you could while you were downed, then call Luca for help at the last minute.

Until Luca was terrorshocked.

Your eyes snapped up to meet Naib's the second you both heard him collapse against the cipher machine. Anxiety began to set in, your movements growing more sloppy. You nicked yourself more often, and Naib noticed it too.

"Easy there... Deep breaths, all right?" He cooed, wriggling to free himself from the grip of the rocket chair. His struggles were unsuccessful, though. No matter how hard he tried to escape for you, the chair wasn't merciful whatsoever.

You felt your body grow numb as you lost more blood. You could no longer feel the cold tiles of the basement. To you, everything was cold. You scooched closer to the chair Naib was trapped in and extended a hand. "Naib, I... I can't feel my legs," although his movements were limited, he was able to wrap his hand around yours and squeeze it tight.

"You're gonna be fine." He was lying through his teeth. Naib could see the glassy look in your eyes, hell, as your hand quivered in his, he could feel the life draining from it. Your voice wasn't a comfort to him anymore, every word you spoke was full of agony and he wished you would stay quiet as to not worry him more.

Naib has seen this before. He's been pinned under debris, forced to watch a comrade succumb to their injuries. It's why he's the man he is today. Always self-sacrificing, never leaving anyone behind. Yet he couldn't extend the same behaviour to you... his lover was bleeding out in front of him and there was absolutely nothing he could do. He tried so desperately to hide the fear from his face, but a single tear slid down his cheek and his expression sunk when he felt you begin to fade away. As you melted into the ground, Naib cried out your name until there was nothing left of you to hold. Then he followed.

You were awoken by the sound someone scurrying towards you. Rubbing your eyes, you saw a flash of colour before an excited hand met your shoulder. "You're finally up. Can you walk?" It took a few moments to process Naib's words. As you scanned the room around you, you spotted bouquets of flowers and numerous get well soon cards.

"What... what happened to me?" You groggily asked as you gazed at your hands. They had been bandaged up with care.

Naib swallowed hard as he replied, "you've been out for around a day. I've been looking after you... hope you don't mind." As your vision adjusted to the bright lights of your room, you noticed his shirt had been discarded and his chest was wrapped tightly in bandages. Both of you were left bruised and battered from that hellish match, it seems.

Your heart soared as you thought about how much Naib must adore you to watch over you like that. Though he acted coolly as if his actions were no big deal, you could sense that he was still worried about you. He touched you as if you were made of glass and his usual scratchy voice was replaced by a soft, considerate one ー an attempt to ease your anxieties and make you more comfortable.

"C'mon, let's get you cleaned up," his hand connected to yours and eased your weight onto the floor below you. You stumbled over your feet, but quickly met Naib's chest as his arms wrapped around your back. "Easy there, I've got you." He let you lean on him for support and helped you peel off your bloodied shirt before drawing a bath for you.

Naib kneeled beside the bubblebath you rested in, scrubbing your hair with his calloused fingers. It tickled ever so slightly, you couldn't remember the last time somebody had handled you with such care. His hands maneuvered around your body with precision and care as he washed away all of the dirt and dust that marred your skin.

A comfortable silence hung in the air until you decided to speak up, "what about you? Do you want me to wash you as well?"

Naib's expression softened when he heard your voice. "Iー uh, I'm good." His blunt response didn't match his gaze in the slightest.

"I can see you wince every time you lift your arms. And you smell."

"...Fine." He huffed in defeat, beckoning you to scootch forward to make room for him in the tub. You felt the water splash as he took a seat behind you and pulled you into his arms. "Hey. What you did yesterday... don't do it again, okay? I don't want you getting hurt ever again."

You turned over your shoulder to face him and he offered you a faint smile. It wasn't like his usual smug grins, it was more tender, something he couldn't get rid of upon seeing you awake again.

You could keep your head in Naib's warm chest forever, his steady heartbeat and the occasional ripples of water filling your ears. You were on the verge of falling asleep when you remembered that Naib needed to be scrubbed too.

Lifting his arms up above your head, you escaped his gentle grasp and turned around to face him. His expression was one of grumpiness after you slithered free from his arms, but the second you grabbed a loofah and massaged his skin his gaze molded into a loving one. His cuts had faded and closed up but they were definitely visible, and they looked like they hurt. A lot.

"I'm sorry for being so reckless, I just wanted you to get out safe." You whispered between fond swipes of his chest, really getting the soap in there.

He rested his arms on the edges of the tub, huffing in response. "When I tell you not to rescue, don't rescue, okay? Your safety's more important than mine." You attempted to object to his brash statement, but he shut you up with a kiss and stole the breath from your lips. Your lips remained connected for a few lingering seconds, and Naib deepened the kiss right as you expected him to pull away.

"...I thought I was going to lose you," he muttered against your skin, pulling away and pressing another, sweeter kiss to the corner of your lips. "Water's getting cold... let's get out," he drained the tub and scooped you up into his arms, bringing you to your bed and wrapping you up in a bathrobe. You were perfectly capable of dressing yourself, but Naib's must-take-care-of-lover instincts refused to let you do that.

He snuggled up to you from behind, nose breathing in the fresh scent of your hair. "Goodnight, love." And you dozed off in his arms, ever protective of you.

#norton campbell x reader #norton campbell #naib subedar #naib subedar x reader #idv x reader #identity v imagines

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spotofimagines · 3 years

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Car Sick P1 ~ Dominic Calvert-Lewin

A/N: This is sort of carried on from this blurb I wrote a while ago, bc I loved the idea and wanted to write more for it, you should probs read that first to catch the vibes. This is for @footballffbarbiex writing challenge based on tv and film. I used this storyline from Modern Family with Gloria and Jay. Once again, no real timeline with this, just made up scenarios. I struggled with the next bit of this so I asked you how you wanted it and you chose 2 parts, here's the 1st. Enjoy :)

Warnings: pregnancy, kids, step parents, injury mention - reader is female

Summary: You thought you were just feeling car sick, turns out it's something else...

gif by @hishairmyweakness - gif by @delstroyer

You were dropping your daughter off at Dele's for a long weekend since he didn't have a match or training to attend. After she had squeezed the biggest hug out of her dad and trudged dirt in his hallway, she perched on the sofa with her ipad and juicebox, leaving you and Dele to catch up.

Dele had been showing you how he redecorated his kitchen so you accepted a drink and decided to stay a little while. Plus you figured the news you had for him should rather be said in person than over the phone.

"Hey, Del, I have something to tell you." You said nervously, leaning your hands on the kitchen island. He turned around and took a sip of the drink he just poured as he walked closer to the other side of the island opposite you. "Go ahead." He replied, his eyebrows knitted in concern at your worried tone.

"Well, remember when we stopped by last Friday since you were playing on her birthday?" you recollected and he nodded along. "And I had one of those herbal teas and a tablet because I was feeling car sick?" "Yeah..." he trailed off quietly, putting his drink on the counter between you. "Turns out I wasn't car sick," he frowned in confusion and looked even more lost than he did a moment ago.

You fiddled your fingers together and took a deep breath, steadying yourself. You knew you could trust Dele with absolutely anything. You'd been close since you were teenagers, grew closer when you started dating and left nothing in the way when you had a baby. Being so young when it happened meant a lot of things turned against you, a lot of people with a lot of opinions trying to dictate your lives and yet you stuck it through. You haven't been together romantically for a while, however your relationship with him never faultered, your connection of trust staying strong.

But it didn't make this any easier to say. It wasn't hard to see when Dele got hit by moments of gloom at the sight of the mini family you were creating with Dominic. While your split years ago was amicable, and neither of you would rekindle that flame again, more than happy with your close friendship, Dele couldn't stop that jealous bubble rising in him when he saw your daughter enjoy spending time with Dom as much as she does with him. Blame his stubbornness but facing change wasn't his strongest suit. This news was going to be a big step away from that picturesque life you both once envisioned together and you desperately didn't want it to drive a wedge between you nor push Dele away. You had settled into a good rhythmic system with him that suited your daughter and your schedules, you'd hate to tarnish that in any way.

So, yes, you hesitated to tell him.

You sighed and picked at your nails, needing to just get it out before it drove you crazy.

"I'm pregnant."

Dele's eyes went wide and his mouth opened a little from shock, the frown lines that creased his forehead disappearing. His breath was taken away. Nothing prepared him to hear those words come from your mouth and know that he wasn't involved. It was bound to happen but it still took him by surprise.

He tilted his head as he looked at you, nervously twiddling your thumbs like you always did, and it only took a few seconds for a smile to slowly grow on his face. "That," he cleared his throat and met your eyes with sincerity, "that's great. Congratulations."

He scuffed his socked feet along the floor as he walked round the counter to wrap you in a warm hug. He squeezed your shoulder and gave your cheek a quick kiss when he pulled away, a genuine smile on his face. No, he wasn't involved this time, but he knew how amazing it was to experience pregnancy and he was certain Dominic would take to it greatly.

"What did Dom say?" He asked, leaning over to grab his glass and take another drink. Your breath caught in your throat and that made Dele side-eye you mid sip. "You haven't told him, have you?" He questioned gently, and you shook your head.

Now it was his turn to sigh.

The glass clinked loudly in the quiet room when he put it back down, and he had a ton of questions he could have asked you and a ton of things he could have told you to do that he thought was right, but it wasn't his place. Not anymore. So he took a moment to think whilst you rubbed your hands down your front to straighten out your t-shirt again.

"Are you going to?" You tutted and looked back up at him incredulously. "Of course I am Del, think it'll be pretty hard to miss when I'll be bursting through my clothes!" You joked and he held his hands up in defence as he chuckled, realising it was a stupid question.

"Are you nervous, then?" He tried again, this time opting for something more reasonable. "More nervous than when I told you for the first time." You admitted. Dele whistled lowly and shook his head with a laugh.

The state you were in a bit under 7 years ago now when you told him you were going to have his child, it was something else. He still insists he hasn't seen someone so frantic, before or since. He could only imagine what was coming Dominic's way.

---

There were plenty of reasons for you to believe Dom would be happy to be a dad. He adored his young brother and truly enjoyed spending time with him when he was back home. He was thoughtful and attentive with all the people he knew so you know he'd be the same, multiplied by a million, when it came to a child that depended on him.

But the way he cared for your daughter above anyone else proved to you, without a doubt, how good he would be. Dom wasn't her biological father, but that never once stopped him loving her the way she deserved. Dom made sacrifices when he needed to and even when he didn't. He'd stay awake if she couldn't sleep, he'd ask to see her on facetime when he was travelling and he always asked her about school, he even did the afternoon pick up with you when he got the chance. If Dom would be such an amazing figure in the life of a little girl he had no obligation to be a part of, just imagine what he'd be like with his own child.

You wouldn't question his want or excitement to have kids with you at any time, having spoken about it before.

Any time except now.

Dom hadn't been himself the last week, and justifiably so. He picked up a knee injury in the Merseyside derby last Saturday that resulted in him hopelessly limping off the pitch with the physio under his arm to hold him up. A torn ACL was the conclusion after a couple hours in the hospital. While an injury was never welcome, a minimum six months out was tough to take. But with the upcoming England tournament he'd been called up for that he will now have to miss, alongside the rest of the Premier League season, it shattered him. His club and his country had important matches this year and it killed him to not be able to help secure some much needed wins for them.

Most of Sunday was spent doting on him, helping him relax and alleviating both his physical and mental pain, offering comfort through his favourite meals and hours of cuddles, something your daughter happily assisted with.

However, by the time Monday rolled around, his rest was stifled by your daughter's birthday party.

Despite how often you'd sat him back down, Dom wasn't used to sitting all day and had helped you decorate the house whilst your girl was at school. The balloons were littered in the front room, the buffet snacks laid out on the dining table, and the banners Dom had pinned on the ceiling blew from the gentle breeze coming in through the back door.

So by the time you pulled into the drive with a car full of young girls eager for sugar, Dom was working on half a bar of energy already. Yet he played along with the party activities and managed to dance, or more shuffle, to some Disney songs on his crutches inbetween sneaking mini sausage rolls and chocolate biscuits.

You could see him getting more tired as each kid left, but "she only turns 6 once, right?", so he persisted on keeping the party lively until your daughter was knocked out in bed, out of her party dress but still wearing the new bracelet she got from Grandma.

You trailed behind Dom with two cups of tea as he hobbled toward the sofa, barely managing to keep himself up despite it only being 9pm. He dropped heavily on the cushions in the corner and let his crutches fall on the carpet, not caring where they landed as long as they stayed within reach. The sigh that left him could have knocked down a tree.

Before you got comfortable, you put his mug on the table and put a random sitcom on the TV. Dom's eyes were closed and his legs were stretched out as best as they could be, his injured knee up on the couch in front of him with a cushion underneath and an ice pack held on top.

"I'm telling you, I feel way too old for this." He muttered just loud enough to hear. "You're only 24." You chuckled a little into your tea at his complaint.

"Yeah," he rolled his head your way, hair falling on his face, "but running after her makes me feel 70, she knocks me out," he spoke quietly but with the last tints of energy in his tone, "and with this peg leg too you gotta change that to 80."

You smiled at him sympathetically and loosely linked your fingers with his, rubbing your thumb on the back of his hand as let his eyes close again.

He was joking, it was obvious. But a niggling part of your brain told you that he wasn't just being dramatic.

Admittedly it was a tiring evening with your daughter's friends running around, but with the lack of energy left in Dom, how could a baby be added to that scenario and it not be an issue? Maybe it was the wrong time. Maybe, no definitely, getting pregnant when Dom wasn't shrouded by an injury, when he didn't have frustration on top of frustration on his shoulders, when there wasn't a hyperactive 6 year old that needed attention too - that would definitely be a better time to have a baby. But that wasn't what life had handed you. Life was a little more complicated in its ways than to give you an easy run, you knew that well enough by now.

What concerned you most was how Dom would handle it. Whilst he had picked up parenting duties well over the past couple years, he hadn't been there when your daughter was a baby, nor had he seen how tough it was on you at the time. The thought of raising another was scaring you, so it would surely terrify Dom, doing it for the first time.

Even before the time came to hold them in your arms, being pregnant was no easy deal. So how could he possibly handle the stress of an upcoming baby, the stress of having to look after 2 kids in the future, the stress of a cranky pregnant girlfriend, the stress of prepping the house and himself, all whilst he's hobbling on crutches and having to watch his teammates from the sidelines too?

You sipped your tea and let the TV fill the room as your brain ran overdrive with questioning thoughts, sitting silent next to your boyfriend who's head seemed full of only the sleep he was dreaming of, oblivious to the changes that were coming his way.

#dominic calvert lewin #dominic calvert lewin imagine #dominic calvert lewin x reader #dele #dele alli #dele imagine #dele x reader #football #football imagine #my fic #oneshot #my og post

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moralesispunk · 3 years

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Frankie Morales x Female Reader (no name, use of Y/N or physical description) Summary: On Will’s wedding day, Frankie reflects on his perfect, little family with you.

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: I am back from my holiday! I will be back to posting more regularly now and have started on my fisherman! Frankie fic which will begin soon while also working on the next caramel latte chapter!

Man, stop fixing your tie, it's fine!

Has anyone seen my cufflinks?

Do you have the rings?

I thought you had them?

What? I told you to lift them!

Wait... yeah they're in my pocket.

There was an organised chaos humming around the large hotel room that was suddenly feeling a lot smaller with the four men ransaking around as they prepared for the day ahead. Black tux jackets being swapped from man to man, hands reaching to straighten ties and bow-ties, the occasional hand running down a face when someone shouts out the time.

To be completely honest, none of them, least of all Will, thought this day would arrive. That somehow after all the shit that went down in South America he would end up in the same supermarket as his ex-fiance who caught him standing in front of the cereal aisle for five minutes, his head the noisiest yet quietest it had ever been. She took him to a coffee shop and listened as he told her everything that had gone wrong before giving him her number should he need to talk again. After seeing her it was the kick he needed to go to therapy and reevaluate his life, eventually finding the confidence to pick up the phone and ask her on a date.

Now, just over a year later, he was standing in a hotel room with his brothers in arms and preparing to wait at the end of the aisle for the love of his life. He was surprisingly panicked, something the rest of the guys had never seen before even on the toughest missions. Pope was trying to lighten the mood as he poured some of those tiny bottles of whiskey and tequila into glasses before passing them out while Benny had lost and found the rings three times now. But Frankie?

Frankie was watching silently from the corner, texting you to check that you and the kids were ready and on your way. After the text had been delivered he placed his phone inside his tux pocket, sighing when his eyes locked on his panicked friend. He pushed off from the wall and walked over to Will, placing steady hands on his friend’s shaking shoulders.

“I’m going to tell you what you told me the morning of my wedding,” Frankie’s unwavering voice suddenly quietened the room, “do you deserve that woman who will be walking down the aisle to you in less than an hour? Probably not. But does she love you more than anyone else in the world despite all the fucked up shit you’ve seen and done? Hell yeah. And do you love her?”

“More than anything,” Will sighed.

“Yeah you do,” Frankie took his hands from his friend’s shoulders and patted him on the back, “so let’s finish getting ready and then you can go make her your wife so you can be the best goddamn husband.”

The now calm room was a lot easier to get ready in, all four men looking in the mirror for one last check before heading to the door. As they walked to the elevator Frankie’s phone pinged and he took it out of the pocket to silence it before checking the text.

Just at the church now. Sofia was finally convinced to swap the Cinderella dress for the flower girl one and baby girl is still asleep, let’s hope it stays that way for the ceremony.

Frankie smiled down at his phone, leaning forward to press the elevator button for the ground floor before texting back.

My Mom will pick them up later and then we can enjoy the free bar:)

The text bubbles were already popping up and he waited for your response.

Are you trying to get me drunk Mr Morales?

Well, while I’m sure you look beautiful in that dress I will tell you I can’t wait to get it off you tonight ;)

Frankie! I’m in a church!

Frankie chuckled as the elevator bell rang again and it opened to the hotel lobby, now a lot quieter than it had been with all the guests already at the church that was attached to the side of the hotel.

Just heading over now, baby. See you soon.

It was barely a two minute walk to the church, quiet as the other three men let their friend sort his head up before the most important day of his life. The peace was disrupted with the church doors opening, the chatter halting for a moment as the heads turned and landed on Will and they followed him down the aisle.

Frankie’s eyes immediately landed on you, one of your hands balancing your eldest daughter who was bouncing on the pew seat while the other held your youngest to your chest. He paused as he reached your row, leaning across and giving a kiss to Sofia’s cheek and the top of baby girl’s head before finding your lips.

“You look... beautiful,” he whispered.

“And you look very handsome,” you whispered back as he stood up.

Frankie winked at you before following his brothers to the front of the church. It was a quick blur as they settled and the music began, notifying everyone of the bride’s soon to be arrival. At some point not long after the ceremony began, Frankie’s mind wandered back to his own wedding day four years ago.

He remembered how sick with nerves he felt the morning of until you started your walk down the aisle to him. You looked beautiful as you do everyday but now, with the air an official of commitment between you both, his heart faltered. He remembers every single word shared between you both, how you wiped his tears away with your thumb as he stuttered through his vows, how wide you smiled when you were pronounced husband and wife before biting your lip and leaning forward for your first kiss as a married couple.

His eyes moved up to find you again. You were whispering something in Sofia’s ear, your arm around her shoulder and keeping her close against your side with the baby tight against your chest and your arm slightly rocking to keep her asleep.

It was at this moment that a wave of contentness washed over him; looking at his perfect, little family that had brought him back from the darkest point in his life. His wife still looked at him with the same love and adoration as she did on their own wedding day. His eldest daughter looked at him like he could slay every monster and dragon like the ones in her storybooks, and he would if it meant she would be safe. His youngest always settled quickly in his arms, like those same hands hadn’t killed and hurt before.

Your eyes flicked up to meet his, a small smile finding your lips. You mouthed those three words that you say to each other every day, which he returned knowing no one in the church was focused on him.

He had never felt the calmness that he was feeling in this moment before. For the first time he felt that somehow he maybe deserved the life that he had because no matter what he had done, in the army or on the grey legal area missions him and the guys had done since retirement, he loved the three of you more than anyone else would and he could protect you better than anyone else could.

Now, with his three beautiful girls happy and healthy and safe, he knew what real contentness felt like.

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#frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x you #frankie catfish morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales x reader #Frankie Morales x female reader #fic #fanfic #headcannon #oneshot

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