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yeojaa · 4 years

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finders keep hers, ii.

read parts one and three! continued because i have zero self-control and i love/hate these idiots and like ... i just wanna give people what they want. ty to @hobi-gif for always beta reading and you (yes, you!) for normal reading. i lob you! xo

ps. picture these versions of jimin, tae, yoongi, and jungkook.

pairing. jjk x (named) f!reader. rating. still explicit, lolz. tags. smut! a lil bit of pining! jealousy! also, cameos from the other boys, dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex (be safe luvs!), and a bunch of other semi-vanilla things. wc. 4.3k.

“Who’s that?” Jimin means the pretty blonde that’s attached to your best friend, snug against his hip like some kind of conjoined monster - a distant relative to the thing that’s rearing its own ugly green head from its slumber in your chest.

“I don’t know.” Lie.

Because Jungkook’s been talking your ear off about her for the past three weeks, regaling you with details you’d rather not know. Like how she does yoga at the crack of dawn and he picks her up from every class. She, apparently, looks incredible in spandex and loves her green smoothies. Or how she went to private school in Belgium and she’s got - in his words - the cutest accent. He’s mimicked it once or twice, demonstrating how her vowels don’t round like a local’s would.

You’ve heard too much about her and it’s driving you crazy.

The angel at your side - because that’s what Jimin is, with his feather grey hair and rounded Cupid’s bow - takes a sip of his drink, studying you curiously over the Baccarat rim. You can see the curiosity swimming in his eyes, painted across his features in broad strokes.

You return his stare without blinking, silently daring him to say something. He knows better - considering he’s been your shoulder to cry on more than one weak-kneed, booze-laden occasion.

“Do you want to go upstairs?” Meaning the rooftop, away from the crowd that dominates the 44th floor penthouse.

You shake your head - a little motion that wiggles your bangs free from behind your ears - and take a generous sip of the Veuve that bubbles about in your champagne flute. You’re not celebrating anything - this is just how Jungkook parties. With bottles and strangers and deep bass thrumming so loudly you can feel it chatter your teeth.

Another sip and your glass is empty. “No.” You seize another from the bar you’re both leaning against, wondering idly whether it’s your third or fourth or maybe even seventh glass. You’d lost count about thirty minutes ago when Jungkook had strolled in with her on his arm, clothes dishevelled and that stupid grin on his face.

Of course he’d been late to his own party and of course he was sporting a lipstick stain on the collar of his otherwise pristine white Oxford.

“You sure?” You know Jimin means well but you can’t stand the heat of his stare or how it feels like pity digging itself beneath your bones. You don’t need - nor want - his sympathy. Not now.

“Yes,” you snap more harshly than you mean to. A wounded animal lashing out, biting the hand that feeds it.

Luckily, Jimin knows you - has, for nearly the last decade - and he takes it in stride. Chin bounces, the smallest of smiles offered in penance for his pushiness. He doesn’t need to apologize and really, he shouldn’t, but he’s Park Jimin and he’s far too kind so he does it anyway.

“I’m going to hunt down some snacks. If you need me, just come find me.”

It feels infinitely worse when he presses a kiss to your temple and disappears into the throng of people, leaving you alone with the thoughts that buzz around in your head (or maybe that’s just from the liquor).

“Replaced, huh?” You’d recognize that voice anywhere. It rings in your ears when you’re trying to work, forcing its way into your skull when you’re twenty sheets deep in Excel fixing some junior’s mistake. You hear it more often than you like, both in the office and when you least expect it.

You barely turn to acknowledge the broodingly handsome brunet who has seemingly materialized out of thin air. You don’t need to turn to him to see how good he looks, all carefully tousled hair and that self-assured smile.

“What’re you talking about?” It’s easier to play dumb than to play directly into his hand. You’d learnt that ages ago. Kim Taehyung was a force to be reckoned with.

“Look.” A hand lands on your jaw, none-too-subtly guiding your stare in the direction you’d been so adamantly turned away from. Jungkook and his flavour of the week are locked in a fight to see who can eat each other’s face more thoroughly, tongues so far down the other’s throat that you feel your own gag reflex kick up. “Shouldn’t you be over there?”

Concern flares, streaking heat across your cheeks. How did he know? “What?”

There’s a twinkle in his eyes, mischief dancing in his irises as he studies you, fingers burning impossibly warmer over your skin. “You’re best friends, aren’t you? Why’re you standing here by yourself?”

You almost laugh, relief crashing over you with enough force to knock a breath from your lungs.

“Tae, leave her alone.” It’s your knight in shining armour - or finely woven Saint Laurent cashmere, in this case - a Manhattan in hand and a scowl on his face. You thank your lucky stars, not bothering to conceal the smirk you shoot at the reprimanded playboy.

“Yeah, Tae. Leave me alone.”

He doesn’t need to be told a third time, though he levels both you and your saviour with a narrowed stare. It stirs something uncomfortable in the pit of your stomach, like a snake uncoiling and preparing to strike. You think he might say something - you can see him playing through the scenarios in his head - but he thinks better of it at the last second, draining his beer and turning away without another word.

You watch Taehyung’s crown of inky hair disappear among the crowd. It’s only once his loudly patterned Burberry shirt is out of sight that you swivel your gaze to the man at your side. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” That distinct gummy smile fills his expression. It looks good on him - but then again, most things do. With his perfectly mused strands - currently a flattering shade of teddy bear brown and honey blonde - and observant feline features, Min Yoongi is handsome in a way that sneaks up on you, dressing himself in shadows and presenting it at the strangest times.

Like now, for instance, when you’re growing tired of watching your best friend act like a high school freshman.

“You okay, though?”

“Why - do I not look like it?”

You don’t miss the way his attention drags lazily over your features and then, almost pointedly, down the lissome column of your frame. How he pauses appreciatively where wine spills over cream, the mulberry silk of your wrap dress standing in stark contrast to the porcelain of your skin. It ties neatly at the smallest point of your waist - a gift begging to be torn apart.

Something crackles between you. You’re not sure where it is or where it starts but it fizzles, bright white and dangerous. A livewire you’re suddenly very eager to inspect.

“I’d say you look more than okay,” he returns dryly, in that low timbre of his.

You feign surprise, lashes fluttering like a schoolgirl. “Are you flirting with me, Yoongi?”

It’s a testament to his confidence - that lazy swagger that fits itself into the slope of his jaw, the soft shape of his mouth, the inescapable focus of his stare - when he advances a step. There’s already hardly any space between you but he eats it up like a starved predator, crowding you with ease.

“Do you want me to be?” The bitterness of whiskey fans across your face, creeping heat over your cheek and up the delicate shell of your ear. The scent of his cologne follows - distinctly masculine and reminiscent of the sea.

“Are you answering a question with a question?” You know it isn’t what he’s looking for but you offer it anyway, paired with a taunting smile and a coquettish turn of your head.

His jaw pulls almost imperceptibly; it’s only your close proximity that gives away the thrumming muscle. Something entices you to reach out - frustration or, more likely, the bottomless champagne - and you do, the pad of your thumb soothing over the tension. You don’t expect him to lean into your touch and you nearly retreat when he does.

The flat of his own hand rises, piano-honed fingers threading easily between yours. There’s a different kind of smile presenting itself now, reckless at the edges and dressed in an unspoken challenge. He presses it wordlessly into your palm, edge of enamel catching on the baby soft underside of your hand.

You feel the livewire now. It’s a flash of lightning, searing a billion volts through every limb.

It’s a surprise that you find your voice so easily, though it comes reedy and vaguely out of breath. “That’s a yes.” You’re mimicking the motion of his mouth, dragging your own lip through the cage of your teeth. He watches, unblinking.

Crystal rim replaces the warmth of your hand as he drains the amber liquid in a single motion, nearly slamming the glass down beside you. You’d turn to make sure it’s not in a million little pieces - but you’re far too distracted by the softness of his lips, how he tastes strongly herbaceous and smokey.

The first thought to your mind is that Min Yoongi kisses nothing like Jeon Jungkook.

The second, well - that’s stolen away, disappearing into a haze of desire when he sweeps the wet muscle of his tongue across your bottom lip. He does it once then repeats the motion with an addendum of enamel, turning his polite request into a gentle demand you’re all too willing to meet.

Broad, soft palms find the shape of you beneath your dress, one gliding easily over silk to rest comfortably across the swell of your hip while the other ascends in tandem, finding a home over the column of your throat. There’s no aggression in the way he moves and claims you. He trades force for grace, threading passion where his tongue swipes and his teeth mark.

It’s a slow burn rather than a raging inferno - scorched earth following a thunderstorm.

Yoongi’s touch is deliberate, each stroke of skin over skin meant to entice you. He does it well, with practiced ease - a sweep of his thumb over the hidden lace of your bra, the press of his fingers into the sensitive softness of your neck.

Even how he devours you whole is measured, calculated. He isn’t an overeager teenager looking for a quick fuck; he wants to indulge like a king at his last feast.

“You taste good,” he hums against your lips, bitten cherry red and glossy with his spit. “Look so pretty, too.”

Praise from Yoongi doesn’t come often so you bask in it, delirium and liquor painting your smile unabashed. It pulls low and slow, spilling like stars into the darkness of your eyes, the black of your pupils that devour the iris whole.

“You haven’t even tasted the sweetest part.”

It comes crashing out of your mouth like a freight train, dressed in champagne-fueled salaciousness and paired with fluttering lashes. A part of you wonders whether you’re being too forward but at this point, you can’t bring yourself to care. Between the alcohol and his touch, you’re drunk in more ways than one.

He doesn’t seem to mind, though. Not if his grin says anything, framed in danger and delight. It’s a heady mixture - an aphrodisiac in the form of a person’s smile. “Have to fix that then, don’t we?”

You’re ready to take him up on it - ready to do a lot of things, frankly - when a voice presents itself just beyond Yoongi’s shoulder.

“Fix what?”

Of course it’d be Jungkook.

You turn your attention to him first - you can feel Yoongi’s heavy-lidded stare trained on you when you pull away, when the warmth of your body retreats just enough that you can focus on something other than the overwhelming desire that sparks between the two of you.

Your best friend is standing not three feet away, arms folded over his chest in a way that reads like a surly nightclub bouncer or a begrudging boss. It’s nothing like the sunny radiance he normally wears - a byproduct of being rich and handsome and far too charming for his own good. You’re curious whether it’s the alcohol - you can see it still, swimming in his eyes and turning them hazy - or the fact that blondie isn’t at his side. Had she left him to fend for himself and now he was taking it out on you?

He repeats himself when neither you nor Yoongi answer, an edge to his voice you don’t expect.

“Nothing.” You, again, speak first. You don’t miss the way your answer sounds more like coddling, sweeping reassurance off your tongue.

Yoongi retreats a step, turning on his heel enough to position himself partially facing both you and Jungkook. At this angle, you study his profile, trying to find the ways emotion fits among his features. It’s a lost cause, though - he’s always had an incredible poker face.

“I was just saying her belt was a bit—” You catch the mischief that pulls the corner of his mouth high, revealing pink gums. “—loose.”

A sharp inhale follows immediately after. You don’t even realize it’s you until Jungkook is speaking, expression set and muscle pumping in his jaw. You’d think it was hot if it weren’t so goddamn uncomfortable. “Yeah?”

Sweet Yoongi is utterly unbothered, nonplussed as he adjusts the timepiece on his wrist. “Yeah.”

Watching the two interact is akin to sitting front-row at Wimbledon, your gaze bouncing between the two men like they’re whipping a fluorescent yellow ball between them. It’s so unbearable you have to remind yourself that they’ve been friends for years.

“I’m heading out,” Yoongi says, rather abruptly. He sounds almost bored, training his focus back on you for these last few moments. “Call me.”

You nod dumbly, watching his retreating back with an equally dumb look on your face.

“What the hell was that?” Jungkook’s taken up his hyung’s place, dangerously close and with a sour expression on his face. You almost want to make fun of him for it - how he looks like he’s just sucked on an underripe lemon. When he levels you with that look, though, you think better of it. Time and place and all that.

You don’t meet his eyes. “Was what?”

“That.”

The same edge presents itself again. It mixes with something you can’t place, colouring his words an alarming shade of red that has your brow furrowing and mouth following suit. You don’t appreciate the tone and you say as much, finally meeting his stare with defiance burning away the residual liquor in your system. “None of your business.”

Whatever he’d been expecting, this isn’t it. Brows shoot high, tongue rounding the interior of his cheek. You’d recognize that look anywhere. It’s the look that always gets him what he wants.

Which is why, once he’s abruptly kicked all of his guests out - to a chorus of boos and what the hells! - you’re on your back in the middle of his living room. Your dress - the poor, beautiful thing - lies in a heap somewhere in the kitchen, possibly caught across the back of one of his bar stools, and his clothes act like a trail of breadcrumbs leading from the front door. Shirt, pants, socks.

All he’s left in is black Calvin Klein boxer briefs. It complements your own La Perla bra well - all delicate lace and macrame.

“Say it again,” he demands from between your legs, knees hooked over his shoulders as he coaxes you to another orgasm. One shapely forearm rests across your hip, pressure heavy on your abdomen as you clench pathetically around his fingers. He’s tapping a near brutal rhythm against your g-spot, curling two fingers within you until you’re seeing stars and too fucked-out to remember what you’re supposed to be saying.

Jungkook has no sympathy, though.

He repeats himself with gravel in his throat, pad of his thumb ghosting over the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. You tremble with each pass, seeking more friction; your back is arching with delirious need, hips rolling of their own accord. It’s almost inconsequential against the weight of him.

“Say it,” he barks - a petulant child demanding a toy.

“You’re better!” It’s more a broken shriek, a sob that wrenches forth and fits lamely with the words he so desires. It almost isn’t good enough but he thinks he’s dragged this on long enough. He hasn’t even had his fun yet and you’re already shaking with oversensitivity.

“Better than who?” The question comes in a warm breath that has you bucking toward the source - or trying to, at least. You’re so needy he can’t help but laugh - a far cry from your usual too-good-for-cuddling self - the sound muffled by the slick that coats your thighs and drips down your slit, making the sweetest mess.

“Than anyone.”

He tuts, withdraws his fingers from your obscenely wet walls, and studies the strands that connect them. Pink tongue glides over his index before he’s slotting both digits against his cheek, indulging in the taste of you. If he weren’t so focused on the conversation at hand, he’d be drinking directly from the source. “Not just anyone, baby.”

You look almost shy - or at least as shy as you can look with your throat and shoulders painted with bruises and bites, chest heaving.

“Than Yoongi.”

“Don’t you forget it, sweetheart,” he coos, so kindly you almost forget about the merciless edging he’s just done, bringing you to the precipice of bliss before ripping it away.

You seek him out - the kiss-swollen shape of his mouth, the unyielding contours of his back - like you need him, like your trembling touch might coerce him into giving you what you want. You kiss him as if you’re hoping to distract him, granting him a sexpot moan when you lose the hard fought war of tongue and teeth. He thinks you think he won’t notice when you begin rutting against him, desperately seeking relief against the hard curve of his cock.

The devilish side of him wants to call you out on it but it feels a little too good, your cunt soaking through the thin cotton of his briefs.

“Someone’s needy.” He bows above you, shoulders rounded to crowd you deeper into the couch cushions, and purrs the words directly into your ear, punctuating them with sharp, unrelenting glides of his teeth.

You snap with far less malice than you intend and far more desperation than you want. “Shut up.”

“Watch it.” This time, it’s punctuated by a sharp slap against your clit. You jolt beneath him, a long drawn out whine his reward. “Don’t you want me to let you come, baby?”

“Not if you’re going to be an asshole about it.” He’d probably believe you more if you weren’t breathless and still, perhaps subconsciously, grinding yourself up against him.

“I’m the asshole?” The way Jungkook says it makes you bristle. “You were the one making out with one of my friends.”

“I’m not your girlfriend!”

“So what? Doesn’t mean you’re allowed to do that.”

And that’s when it hits you like a ton of bricks. It crashes into your feeble rib cage, a fast ball meeting its mark with perfect precision. Your heart thumps pathetically before folding in on itself - a catcher’s mitt for his cruel words.

You don’t know what you’d expected. You know your relationship and all the things it isn’t.

(You still hadn’t asked where his latest playmate had disappeared off too - you’d been too busy with his head buried between your legs.)

So you try to ignore the tears that block your vision, how suddenly all you can taste is saltwater. The most you can do is squeeze your eyes shut, grinding your molars into a fine powder with the tension in your jaw. Now is not the time.

“Fuck you.”

He laughs, dismissive and amused. The Calvin Klein band now sits halfway down his thighs, his swollen head tapping experimentally on your equally swollen clit. He’s not even looking at you - far too interested in the way your essence coats his length.

“That’s what we’re doing, baby.”

Even when he speaks, he’s still staring down at the apex of your thighs, pressing the tip of his aching cock between your lips. You take him so well, your walls burning around the unrelenting, slow press of his hips. He’d fuck you every day if you’d let him. You’d actually tried it once, for a week, when your office had a round of layoffs and your stress was at an all-time high.

“God, you’re so fucking wet.” It’s praise he offers often, always far too pleased with the way you ruin your underwear. “Is this all for me?”

It’s hard to stay mad at him when he’s filling you up like this. Still, you try, holding hostage the sounds you know he likes to hear. You swallow them, biting down so hard on your bottom lip that it throbs.

He doesn’t like that very much - burying himself to the hilt in a single thrust to elicit some sort of response. “I asked you a question.”

You can’t deny him.

A moan bounces around in your mouth, forced out when he pulls out nearly all the way and snaps back in, balls smacking lewdly against your ass. He’s got your legs propped up over his shoulders, thighs spread wide as he watches your pussy stretch around his cock. You’re folded nearly in half and his palms span your hips - perfect for him to hold you in place and fuck into you at a relentless pace.

At this angle, his cock brushes the sensitive spot against your pelvic wall. It’d be too much on its own, but he knows this position well and grinds down against you every time he pistons in. The stimulation against your clit is otherworldly, bringing you right back to the edge like flipping a switch.

“What was that?”

“I-i-it’s all for you.” You’re stuttering either because he’s bouncing you on his dick so well or because you’re about to come. Maybe both. He likes that.

“That’s right.” He maintains a firm grip on your side with a single hand, the other reaching to palm roughly at your breast. You’re already straining against the delicate fabric of your bra - he hardly has to do anything but tweak and pinch your bud and you’re clawing at his own chest, manicured nails seeking to do the same to him.

You miss your mark once or twice - you’re having troubles keeping your attention focused on anything but the tension in your core - but when you do, you’re rewarded with a stutter of Jungkook’s hips.

“Do that again,” he pants, resuming his unrelenting pace.

You tweak his nipple sharply, soothing one then the other with a pass of your thumb. The sensation starts in his belly, an electroshock in his groin that has him growling, the sound reverberating out of his chest with great need. He shifts, reclining back on his muscular calves as he peers down at your blissed out face and pretty, messy cunt.

He’s desperate for release, your fluttering walls far too wet and warm around him. “You wanna come, sweetheart?” While he asks, he doesn’t need an answer - he’ll get you there anyway.

Subtly adjusting his position, he drags one of your legs to join the other, both now propped against his left shoulder. He keeps a commanding grip on your hip with that same hand; his right snakes between your legs, seeking out the pearl of pleasure that’s all of a sudden assaulted with far too much pressure (from his hand and your own clenching thighs and what feels like a million other things).

He can feel the tremors before they present themselves in your legs, the tightening in your pussy mimicking the way your hand fists over his heart. There’ll be angry red lines for days to come - a literal x marks the spot on his otherwise unblemished honey skin.

“Come on, baby,” he croons, encouraging as always as he thumbs your clit in gentle, repetitive motions and fucks into you so hard and deep you can hardly breathe.

Your face screws into an expression of euphoria, mouth rounding as the coil snaps and ecstasy surges through your veins. It’s like an explosion of colour - fireworks igniting you from the inside out - and you’re crying, the fourth orgasm of the night swallowing you whole. You’re squeezing him so tight it almost hurts.

It’s so utterly hot that he finds his own high effortlessly, your walls milking him for all he’s worth. He spills inside you - thank fucking god for IUDs - and fucks his cum deeper, riding out his release until he feels himself softening. He gently removes your legs from his shoulders, pressing a surprisingly chaste kiss to your ankle as he pulls out and settles beside you.

Even your little mewl of displeasure can’t deter him when he pushes two fingers past your swollen lips, gathering up the cum that’s spilling out and pushing it back in. At least he’s gentle, offering another kiss - this time to your hip bone.

“Stay the night?” He seldom asks. You always say no.

This time you don’t and he carries you to his bedroom, your face hidden against his neck. You’re left on his neatly made bed as he draws a bath - something he’s done a handful of times throughout the decade and a half friendship you’ve shared, knees pressed together and exhausted.

When he comes back and picks you up, you nearly miss what he says. It’s almost lost to the soothing scent of lavender and the sound of running water.

“Don’t do it again.”

You’re not sure what he means when he says that. You’re too afraid to ask so you say nothing. He doesn’t repeat himself either, instead leaving you on the edge of his tub with a fluffy white bathrobe and a kiss to your forehead.

Somehow, that’s even worse.

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mrsalwayswrite · 3 years

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Letters From War (Ron Speirs x reader)

Here is Part 3 of my Eye Candy series! Yes, Eye Candy was supposed to be a one-shot but I’m having too much fun with their dynamics.

And because sometimes you just need some soft!Speirs in your life.

Warnings: Speirs being a secret softy and some jealousy, a couple swear words

Words: 3500

Eye Candy series masterlist

Tag List: @happyveday @evelynshelby @sydney-m and @softspeirs (because I mentioned this earlier to you)

Sunlight filtered through the lacy curtains, casting the hotel room in a soft glow. A subtle ticking of the clock was the loudest sound in the room. Laying there in the silky sheets felt divine. No one was screaming orders outside of the barracks as they ran their platoon. One of my fellow nurses was not shuffling around inside trying to be quiet but failing as they slammed their stuff on a cot or on the hard floor. No, it was blissfully quiet. Something I had not realized how much I missed until I started my training at Camp Toccoa and was constantly surrounded by others.

I rolled over onto my side, eyes bleary from having just woken up. Peeking at the clock on the far wall, I could see the little hand pointing at the eleven. Not what I was hoping to see. My weekend pass meant I did not have to be back to base until this evening but if I did not get up now, I might go AWOL just to lounge around in these sheets with the sunlight warming me.

I groaned quietly as I sat up, the soft sheets sliding down my naked body. There was a freeing feeling with sleeping naked. Not that I did it often. Or ever. But the few times I had...I could see the appeal of it being a regular occurrence. Especially with these sheets. Were they made from cherub’s wings? Nothing could be as soft and silky as these sheets. I promised myself after the war, if I made it, I would buy myself a set. Something to look forward to.

As quietly as I could, I slid my legs over the side of the bed, ready to stand up when a deep, gravelly voice stilled my movements.

"Where you think you're goin'?"

I smiled at how perturbed he sounded. Glancing over my shoulder, he still lay on his stomach, arms tucked under his pillow, face buried in it. It was amazing he did not accidentally suffocate himself. "Ron, it's eleven already."

He grumbled, words muffled by the pillow. "So?"

"We need to get up soon."

"You said that two hours ago when we woke up."

"And yet, we're still in bed."

"Mmm…" He tipped his head to the side so one of his half-lidded eyes could glare at me. "I don't see the problem."

"Well some of us can't be lazy like...Ahhh!!" I squealed when an arm snaked around my waist and pulled me back, moving far too fast for someone who just supposedly woke up. Abruptly, I found myself with my head back on the pillow and a broody Lieutenant hovering over me. His bare chest was only inches above mine; and although I could not see it, I could feel that he had not put his Army issued skivvy back on. Just that realization alone bloomed a warmth in my belly.

"You were saying?" He said with a smug look.

"We need to get up."

"Mmm…" He slowly inched his head down, meeting my eyes until his lips trailed down my neck, leaving butterfly kisses.

Without a conscious thought, I tilted my neck to the side, giving him better access. My arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer, loving being under his touch. A small part of my brain berated me for not getting up while I still could. There were things I had planned on doing with my day. But an open mouth kiss on my collarbone caused a moan to fall from my lips and all thoughts of escaping his hold to fly away.

"You were saying?" He repeated.

Through the slowly growing, lust-fuel haze in my mind, I tried to remember why it was so important to leave the bed. "Was I?"

He chuckled, the feeling of it reverberating in my chest. With a quick peck to my lips, he laid his head on my chest, half his body weight on me and an arm wrapped around my waist possessively. I started carding my fingers through his hair, humming softly as we lay there together. The sheets were rumpled around his waist, the only thing keeping me warm was his body. A peacefulness descended. Something very rare in preparation for war. It only encouraged neither one of us to leave the bed, else that peace vanish and reality sink back in. We laid there silently for some time, the only sounds being our breathing and the ticking of the clock.

My thoughts swirled in my mind about the coming weeks. So many unknowns lay before us, like a minefield that we had to walk through. We just had to keep moving forward.

"We leave on the train tomorrow." I stated, staring up at the ceiling. My fingers continued carding through his hair. I would never tell a soul but I knew the feeling immediately relaxed him. Whenever I started doing it, he would practically go limp on me and lay there like a cat sunbathing.

"Mmm."

"Do you know where we are going?"

"Yes."

I swatted him lightly on the shoulder. Of course, he knew. He had the uncanny ability to always be where information was being shared, even if it was not directly relevant to him. It would not surprise me if he snuck into the intelligence officers' offices at night and peeked through their papers. Though I would never tell him that. Plausible deniability is a glorious thing.

When he refused to answer, I swatted him again. Immediately, he growled and nipped at the valley between my breasts, making me squeak. Before I could incite or escape his further wrath, he settled himself back on top of me. When I made no further move, he roughly grabbed my hand and placed it back on the top of his head. I smirked up at the ceiling, and followed his silent order. Perhaps in a past life he had been a cat. It would explain some of the moodiness.

"Tell me." My fingers slipped through his hair, occasionally scraping his scalp, making him hum. "Please."

"I overheard Nixon talking to Sink." He tilted his head to look at me, those dark, piercing eyes meeting mine. "New York."

I connected the dots in my head. "Europe?"

He made no reply as he continued to stare at me, rubbing his thumb along my ribs.

"Can I write to you?"

I felt him stiffen slightly. We had never defined what was between us. Obviously there was attraction and passion, the bruises on my hips and the half-moon indents on his back attested to that. Yet there was also a peaceful companionship I think neither of us expected. He would listen to me ramble about things we learned in class and different techniques to use in the field or the silly things my friends and I had done. On the rare occasion he would vent about one of his men and their stupidity. But I knew he was trying not to make attachments. There was a solid steel wall around his heart he had raised as soon as he stepped foot in Camp Toccoa. He knew his superiors would die. His men would die. He could possibly die. It would be easier to not know their hopes and dreams, their stories and fears. There was one thing we both knew but never acknowledged.

Somehow, I was the exception to his rule.

As we laid there, I tried not to let his silence bother me. I knew it was a long shot to even ask him. I would not be entirely surprised if he said no. We were not even sure that our paths would cross again. I was to be stationed as a nurse for the paratroopers but it had not been finalized for which battalion.

Finally he spoke, looking just over my head the whole time he had been thinking. "Let me think about it."

"Um, ok… well if I meet some other fella who sweeps me off my feet and writes…"

He leaned up and kissed me soundly, interrupting my potential future plan.

"You can't just kiss me to keep me from talking. That's rude." I huffed when he finally allowed me to breathe again.

"No." He stated flatly.

"No? You don't want me writing to someone else, no? I've already had a few soldiers ask if they could write to me."

"No."

"Ron, that's not how this works. If you don't want me writing to you, that tells me you're done with me. I don't do one-night stands."

He quirked an eyebrow, stupid smirk on those kissable lips.

I blushed, swatting him again. "You know what I mean." This was not our first rendezvous together where we snuck away from others while on a weekend pass.

He sighed, dropping his head back on my chest. "And if something happens to me."

"Then I'll mourn but I'll keep doing my job. Who knows? I might even miss you."

He chuckled then lay quietly. I thought he had fallen asleep until he spoke up, so softly I almost did not catch it. "No one was supposed to miss me."

"Mmm," I hummed, tracing the muscles on his back with my finger. In a spur of the moment decision, I decided to be honest, my whisper hanging in the air above us. "Too late...I don't think I can help it now."

We lay there contently for a time, just basking in our own thoughts, the warmth of the morning sun and each other's body.

"Ron, we really need to get up…. stop ignoring me."

He grumbled then suddenly rolled fully on top of me, pressing open-mouth kisses on my neck and chest. "One more."

"How do you have the energy for one more? Christ! Is it possible to die from so many orgasms?"

He froze, slowly his eyes met mine. I knew that look.

"No...no, Ron, NO! That wasn't a challenge...please, oh, shit!"

As I tried to wiggle away from him, he pinned my hips down with his arm and with that dark, seductive look which sent my heart racing, he lowered his face to where I could feel myself throbbing for him.

Needless to say, we did not leave that bed until the afternoon.

*****

The train car rattled along the track, the forests and open fields of the East Coast passed by in a blur. Honestly, at this point I had no idea what state we were even in. Somewhere on our way to New York. Then troopship. Then England.

Soon war.

It was a weird feeling. We had been training and preparing for it. Gathering all the knowledge we could and practicing saving lives until our backs cramped from being bent over pretend bodies and our fingers almost bled from the constant chafing of bandages, syringes and textbooks against them. Yet now on the cusp of war, I felt wholly unprepared.

Pushing the thought away, I rubbed my tired eyes. I picked up my pencil, continuing to try and write a letter to my folks back home before one of the girls found me. I had been sitting in a train car with Lucy, Mary and Rebecca. After a while of listening to them gossip and talk amongst themselves and with the other nurses nearby, I decided to step away. I claimed I needed the quiet to write my letter. Truthfully, I just needed some quiet. I loved those ladies but Christ could they be LOUD.

Staring at the paper in my lap, words seemed to fail. How do I tell my family about everything I was preparing for? All my fears? All my hopes? All my worries? Do I lie and pretend everything is alright?

"Keep it simple." I muttered. With a sharp inhale, my pencil met the paper.

Dear Dad and Mom,

I hope everyone is doing well. I miss everyone. Sometimes I find myself thinking about home and wonder how soon it'll be till I see it. And you guys, of course.

My friends are doing well. Mary has been showing off a picture of her newest nephew to all the nurses. I don’t know how I would have survived all this training without them. They help keep my spirits up during this time. And do not worry, dad, no one has proposed yet. Well, this week at least. There will be no ring on my finger until the war is over.

Just last week we were learning about different types--

"This spot taken?" A rough, rasping voice asked, disturbing my concentration.

I looked up to see a paratrooper standing at the end of my bench seat. I was surprised but wondered if maybe he just needed a space away from his buddies. Most of the other benches and seats were filled up with paratroopers in this train car, a good amount of them sleeping, writing their own letters or gambling. The few voices eased into the background as I sat there, making me momentarily forget I was not actually alone.

"No, it's open." I slid further down, closer to the window. Across from me was a different paratrooper I thought I recognized from Fox Company. He had been in a deep sleep even before I sat across from him, if the small puddle of drool and soft snores said anything.

"Thank you, ma'am. It's damn near impossible to find a quiet spot on this train." He dropped down onto the bench, removing his garrison cap.

I hummed, returning my eyes to the letter. Maybe I should not mention the proposals, even if they were all in jest. Though thinking about them brought up images of a pair of intense, dark eyes and strong hands that had come to know my body almost as well as I did. A blush warmed my cheeks at the thought.

It had been several weeks since we first began seeing each other. In public, we continued in our separate roles. Ron was not one for public affection, even if he always glared a hole in the head of any man he caught talking with me. I had heard through the rumor mill that word spread- I was Speirs' girl, even if no one ever saw us interact in that way. If Speirs purposefully started the rumor or my friends did after seeing the hickeys he left on my neck the first time... either way, the flirting and catcalls involving me dropped to a minimum.

In private, when we could sneak away or secretly meet up...he had no problem showering physical affection on me until I was seeing stars and melted into a puddle in his arms.

I wondered where he was on the train. Before I got on, I caught a glimpse of him directing some of his men on the platform. There were so many unknowns for us. My own feelings for him had grown like weeds since he kissed me. Part of me knew it was trouble. We were heading into war where nothing was certain. Yet the other part of me craved him. He was like no man I had ever known before. With one glimpse of him, my heart practically beat out of my chest. In his arms was quickly becoming my favorite place to be. I loved how there was never a need to fill the silence while with him.

Was this love?

I shot that thought down before it could plant anywhere. Last time I talked to Ron, he never confirmed if I could even write to him. I knew being with me was not easy for him. Although he never explicitly said it, I wondered if he thought he was going to die during the war.

That rasping voice interrupted me once again. "I'm John Billings, Private first class, Baker Company."

"Nurse Y/L/N." I nodded, glancing at him. Short, cropped blond hair, vibrant blue eyes, dimple on one cheek and broad shoulders. If he was inclined, he looked like he could bench-press me. He was attractive...but I was not interested.

"Ah, come on, you not gonna tell me your first name?"

I shrugged, still keeping my gaze on my letter, hoping he would take the hint.

Apparently not.

"Any guesses on where we're heading? One of my buddies thinks Africa. I think we're headed to Italy or something like that. Either way, Nazis are gonna regret starting this thing when we come in and fucking finish it." He laughed. When I did not respond, he slid a little closer, legs spread wide like he owned the bench seat. "Where you from? You sound kinda like my ma."

"I don't think that's your business."

"Hey, doll, no reason to get upset. I'm just making small talk."

"Well, I'm trying to write a letter."

"Alright, I get it. I'll leave ya alone." He laid his arms on the back of the bench, on either side of him, staring towards the front of the train car. His hand lay right behind my shoulders, almost touching them.

I rolled my eyes.

Several more minutes went by and finally I finished my letter. Well, at least I could not think of anything else to write home about. I folded it up, stashing it and my pencil back into my satchel to mail once we reached New York. My last letter written in America. That thought scared me more than I cared to admit.

"Letter to a sweetheart?"

"No," I replied. "Letter home."

He nodded. "I need to do that myself or my ma will find me no matter where we are and spank me with her wooden spoon."

I could not help the giggle that bubble up at the image evoked. "That sounds like my grandmother. I swear even the devil is terrified of her."

He laughed loudly, throwing his head back, eyes crinkling.

We both stilled when our sleeping companion shifted in his seat, running a hand over his face. Just as soon as he began moving, he stopped once again, snores filling the air.

I looked back out the window, watching the countryside pass. How soon would it be before I saw America again after I left? Would I ever? How much longer could this war drag on for? How different would I be when I returned home? Would my family even recognize me?

"So, you gonna tell me your name yet, beautiful?" My other companion teased, sliding slightly closer.

Before I could open my mouth, a deep, husky voice spoke, sending shivers down my spine. "That's Nurse to you, Private."

I looked over to see Ron standing in the walkway, arms crossed. His signature glare aimed at the paratrooper next to me. Death in his eyes.

My companion froze under the intense look, like prey just waiting for the predator's jaws to rip them apart. "Yes...ah, yes, sir."

"I suggest you find yourself another seat."

The Private scrambled out of his seat without a backward glance at me, mumbling something at Ron before briskly walking away and finding a seat further up the train car.

"Awww…. I think you scared him away."

Ron stared at me for a moment before glancing around and settling into the seat just vacated. "Why aren't you with the other nurses?"

"Just needed some quiet for a minute so I could write a letter home."

He raised an eyebrow. That man could carry entire conversations with just his facial expressions.

"The Private came after I was already sitting." I explained, knowing that was what he wanted to know.

He seemed to think it over before taking my hand in his. Something he had never done in public before. A small smirk teased his lips as he entwined our fingers. "Did you write home about me?"

"No. Should I have?"

He sat there quietly, rubbing his thumb on the back of my hand.

"I thought about it." I admitted, looking at our hands. Though I could feel the heavy weight of his gaze on my face, I did not meet it. "But… I did not want… they would think then…"

"I want you to write me."

My head shot up, eyes wide and lips parted. "Really? Are you sure?"

He mock-glared at me.

"Will you write me back?"

To my endless surprise, he leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to my lips, leaving me speechless. "I'll think about it." He winked before getting up and smoothing back out his impeccable Class A uniform. "I'll find you when we arrive."

"Ok." I answered meekly, my brain trying to understand what just happened.

With one more longing look, he nodded and started back down the train car, disappearing just as quickly as he appeared.

He wanted me to write him...and he would write back!

And he kissed me.

In public!

To anyone else it may seem insignificant but for me...this was monumental. He was claiming me as his girl. Not just rumors anymore. It was ridiculous how my heart swelled at the thought.

A softly spoken "damn" made my head whip round to see the Private who had been sleeping now staring at me with eyes as big as saucers and mouth hanging open slightly.

"Damn." I echoed back, touching my lips, still in shock.

I was such a goner for him. Though, I could not find it anywhere in myself to be upset about that.

#band of brothers #Band of Brothers fandom #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers imagine #ronald speirs #ron speirs #ron speirs x reader #ronald speirs x reader #fluff #soft!speirs

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watevermelon · 4 years

Text

Aot!Haikyuu | MSBY Black Jackals x Reader (Atsumu Route)

✧ Summary: (Attack on Titan x Haikyuu) In an effort to unlock the secrets behind Titans, you got injured during one of Tendou’s Scout Regiment experiments. This was nothing new, but even you were surprised at how much those boys cared about you. ➳ Warnings: Language and Attack on Titan Canon Violence ➳ Tags: Reader x MSBY Black Jackals; Slight Reader x Schweiden Adlers; Takes place before the Fall of Trost; ➳ Masterlist

Pick your route!

Introduction | Sakusa Kiyoomi | Hinata Shoyou | Bokuto Koutarou

✧ Atsumu Miya Route:

Sakusa and the rest of your squad-mates had visited you throughout your entire first week in the medic tent. Thankfully, you were told that you would be able to recover, luckily nothing was long-term damage, neither punctured nor permanently broken in your Titan encounter. Tendou told you that the weeks of physical therapy wouldn’t be easy, but you’d be back on the field within the year if you really tried.

Sakusa cursed you to your face for even thinking about it while the two sunshine's on your team told you not to rush your health.

You were worried most about what Atsumu would say.

He was always quick smiles and smirks - tended to tease and keep things light-hearted in order not to lose his sanity during the war. He flirted and had plenty of women over his shoulder, very easy to cause others to swoon over his handsome appearance. But that was all to drown out his worries, these shallow relationships filled the void from the death of his comrades.

No matter how hard you tried to reach Atsumu’s heart, it just would not budge. Not when you first joined the team and even now years later. There were small cracks here and there. Genuine smiles that he would indulge you in when your squad was in their off-hours. But otherwise, he kept people at an arm’s length.

You knew that this was Atsumu’s second team in the Scout Regiment, originally an officer under the infamous Squad Leader Kita. There were lots of rumors around his earlier life, how he and his brother were one of the best duo’s in the entire regiment. Along with Kita, they were all childhood friends, entering the training corps together and later the scouts as a trio. There were lots of stories around that squad and how they courageously acted during expeditions.

Such as when Kita boldly laid down his life at the Fall of Shiganshina, detonating a large bomb for dozens of Garrison troops to get away.

He saved over two-hundred soldiers from the clutches of abnormal Titans, suddenly let in by both the armored and colossal Titan. The stories were second and even third-hand by now, but it was all generally the same. Soldiers scrambling with their unknown enemy, paralyzed with the fear that their lives were about to end then and there.

Both civilians and soldiers alike had minimal chances of surviving that day.

Shinsuke Kita was a bold soldier through and through.

But all of that occurred before you even joined the scouts. You knew of the current effects on your teammate, now. Atsumu had closed himself off while his brother left the military entirely, opening an onigiri shop within Wall Sina. You could not blame him, your lifestyle must have been a constant reminder for what Osamu had lost. But for Atsumu to continue in the Scouts, you wondered how he had the mental fortitude to continue when his childhood best friend was taken from him.

And so it was no surprise that Atsumu hadn’t visited you your entire first week in the hospital, keeping you at a distance since he had almost lost you as well. But after another week passed you wondered if you did something else to annoy the two-toned man.

Him and Sakusa did not hold back their scalding words the first day you woke-up. And even during the mission, Atsumu had quick curses each time something unexpected happened. So why was he avoiding you now if he was there the first day? Was he trying to reinstate the distance in your friendship? You were disappointed, but by no means surprised.

However, one night three weeks into your hospital stay, as they lowered the doses of painkillers circulating in your system, you woke up to see a figure sitting silently beside you.

You called out to the familiar shadow, “Atsumu?”

It was quiet for a good minute, before he answered. “Ah, it’s me.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Just visiting’.”

“Do you usually visit when I’m asleep?”

“.... Ah.”

So Atsumu visited you when he knew you would not be conscious.

You felt your annoyance flare.

“You’re such a coward.” You bit out.

He stood at your words, his own anger rolling off his tongue. “Ya want to say that again?”

“Yes, I do!” You tried to sit-up, but felt pain shoot through your lower half. Out of relex, his arms shot out toward you to steady you, but you swatted them away and continued, “You can’t face me when I’m awake so you’d rather watch a silent corpse.”

“Don’t call yourself that.” Atsumu bit out, the stoic expression on his face enough to make you recoil in surprise.

You snapped yourself back, “And why not?! There’s obviously something else you have to say if you’re being such a dick about this.”

“You are so fucking unbelievable.” Atsumu muttered as he carded a hand through his blond hair, “I can’t believe I almost lost ya and you’re sitting here acting like life is just gonna move on.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No. It isn’t.” Atsumu stated clearly, “You’ll get out of this bed, one day, and you will never be able to fight the same again. Your leg is fucked, ya know that right?”

“Tendou said I’ll be able to walk again.”

“And that should mean everything will go back to normal, right?” Atsumu stood straight, his height twice your own as you sat in the raised cot. “You tryin’ to tell me that the next time ya see a Titan, you won’t be worried it’ll steal ya like a personal doll again? Or better yet, that you won’t rely on your right leg now that your other side has been shot to shit?”

“I - it’ll take time.” You stuttered, not liking how his words struck a bitter chord.

It took years of training in the cadet corps for anyone to get adept to balancing themselves on the 3DMG. It took even more actual live experience to get used to fighting while doing so. And here you were with a new handicap, years into the battle with all your own personal idiocincinrecies. It would be harder, but you had pushed off that factoid to the recess of your mind, more focused on your current recovery.

“No, ya weren’t thinking at all.” Atsumu stated.

But you didn’t need this asshole pointing out your new weakness.

“What’s your problem?” You asked back sharply.

“My problem? My problem is that I have such a selfish teammate that she doesn’t even care about the rest of her team!”

You turned your head in genuine confusion, “What?”

“I can’t fuckin’ stand ya sometimes!” He said instead, “Even if you can fight again, if it was up to me I’d never let your ass leave your office. I don’t give a fuck, I’ll ask Sakusa to switch ya to Tendou’s team if we have to.”

“What?!”

He leaned over your bedside and gripped your chin harshly. “You almost died. Do ya understand that? I was the last person to see ya before you disappeared into the trees.”

Now closer to his face, it was more than just his anger and annoyance that was reflecting back to you. It made you physically recoil, surprised at seeing the usually distant Atsumu shout his worries about you.

“You were willing to give everythin’ up for some stupid shit-show about a single Titan!” His pressure behind his hold increased, almost bruising the skin there.

“I.. I’m sorry.” You felt yourself apologize more than realized. This was more than just another argument, from the brutal shake of his shoulders and how Atsumu tucked his head into your shoulder. He was leaning into your body, not fully, but enough for you to feel the tenseness in his body.

Atsumu was worried about you.

It made you want to reach out to him. To curl your hands around his middle and comfort him that you were still here - still alive. And so you did - bringing a gentle touch up his back before it started to hurt from the strain. Instead, you folded your arms behind his neck, holding him for as long as Atsumu needed to assure himself that you were okay. And while it seemed redundant initially, you had to remind yourself that Atsumu had lots of demons that were still alive, but worse off because of it.

“Fuck.” You felt him murmur against the skin of your neck. “Please, I am begging ya. Do not pull that shit again.”

You trailed the hands “I’ll try not to.”

He leaned back to look at you directly in the eyes, “That’s not good enough.”

You felt a small smile crack your expression, “I promise I’ll try to stay safe.”

“Good enough for now.” Atsumu said as he frowned, before leaning forward. You felt the soft crease of his lips against your skin, lingering on your forehead before he trailed his nose down against yours.

“Atsumu?”

“Do ya understand now?” He asked, the two of you basically sharing the same breath at this point. Atsumu brought a hand up to your cheek, gently caressing as he went and tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You hung onto every bit of his actions, from the way his eyes pierced your own to the way he drew lazy circles on your skin.

“I can’t lose you too.” Atsumu continued, breathing out harshly into your shared space. “I went through this shit before and it almost killed me. But if I lost you? Fuck, I can’t…”

You brought a hand up to cup his face, your heart leaping out at you to be there for him. He was more than just another Scout soldier, more than just your fellow squad-mate and now even more than just your friend.

“I won’t let it happen again.” You reassured him, moving to place soft pecks to his cheeks as he silently cried out his worries.

This was a side of Atsumu you never got to see before. His usually coarse words were more than just shallow-deep, expressing his genuine care over your person. And while you always crave a deep relationship with the older soldier, he always kept you at an arm's-length. At least now you knew why - because Atsumu was afraid to lose those close to him again.

“I love you, ya know that right?” Atsumu murmured.

“I know that now.” You teased, but he gently poked your forehead to bring you back to his serious statement.

“You’re so stupidly headstrong.” Atsumu started listing off as he placed pecks on the side of your head, “Joining our squad was like a breath of fresh air I didn’t know I needed. So smart and yet you value yourself so little.”

You just listened to his words, surprised that he was so keenly paying attention to you in the past when it seemed like Atsumu was so carefree.

“I’m not expecting ya to answer, by the way.” Atsumu continued, “I just need ya to know that before ya make any choices.”

You smiled at him, thankful for how uncharacteristically patient he was being with you. Instead, you scooted over in the hospital bed and patted down in the empty space.

“Keep me company tonight?”

He gave you a genuine smile, pulling off to take off his jacket and throw it over his shoulder to the chair. Atsumu laid on the side, trying to take up as minimal space as possible as he threw an arm across to rest your head on.

“I’ll never leave you alone again.”

You pulled his face toward you, trying to seal a kiss but struggling as you both kept grinning. His arms trailed up and around your body, pulling you close to feel every plain of skin against his own. You relished in the love Atsumu could give you, grateful for how much of his heart he was willing to give you after having been hurt so many times.

You would treat his heart warmly and give him so much love in kind.

Introduction | Sakusa Kiyoomi | Hinata Shoyou | Bokuto Koutarou

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missfangirll · 3 years

Text

Ad astra per aspera

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Fandom: Guardian Relationship: Shen Wei/Zhao Yunlan, Da Qing/Ye Zun Tags: Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fix-it, Getting Together, First Kiss Words: 2504 Summary: The one with a lot of talking.

Read on AO3

- - -

Four days.

For four days Da Qing thought he had done a fairly decent job of hiding how he felt after their not-talk that morning. He hadn’t been to the apartment either, sleeping on the office couch as he had done with Zhao Yunlan so many times before.

His feelings were a mess he couldn’t - and didn’t want to, for that matter - untangle, and so, like too many colors mixed into one resulted in an ugly brown, all he felt was a suffocating numbness, a vague unease that filled every cell of him and made it hard to breathe. Still, he tried to uphold his usually cheeky behaviour, teasing Xiao Guo and annoying Lin Jing, hoping the hollow feeling in his chest would eventually subside.

After four days of this, however, on a lazy morning in the office, Zhao Yunlan suddenly jumped up from where he was slouched on the sofa and marched over to Da Qing’s desk. Before the cat could even think of dodging, he felt himself grabbed by the scruff of his neck, like Zhao Yunlan sometimes did when he was angry with him, only that Da Qing normally was in cat form for it.

Before he could voice any protest, Zhao Yunlan had dragged him into his office and kicked the door closed behind them, then unceremoniously dumped the cat in the visitor chair and leaned against his desk, looming threateningly over Da Qing.

“Talk,” he demanded with a stern gaze that Da Qing recognized from interviews with suspects. He couldn’t suppress a wince, stubbornly avoiding the other’s eyes.

“I have nothing to say,” he snapped back, ready to get up from the chair and flee, when he felt Zhao Yunlan’s hand on his shoulder and looked up. The other’s gaze was soft, gentle, despite the harsh demeanor earlier, and Da Qing felt the fight leave him. With a groan, he sank back into the chair, closing his eyes. Zhao Yunlan’s hand left his shoulder, but he still stayed close.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he said, more softly this time. “I know you better than anyone and I can see something is bothering you, so tell me. Please,” he added like an afterthought and Da Qing opened his eyes at that, smiling wryly.

“Please?”, he teased, but Zhao Yunlan just shrugged. Da Qing sighed. “It’s,” he began, then faltered, trying to sort through his thoughts and feelings. Zhao Yunlan stayed quiet, patiently waiting for him to continue.

“What would you have done,” he asked finally, “if the Professor hadn’t accepted your advances?”

Zhao Yunlan stilled, then levelled such a scrutinizing gaze at him that it took all of Da Qing’s self-control not to turn cat and bolt. After a moment, Zhao Yunlan huffed, then turned around to pull his office chair next to Da Qing’s, sitting down facing him.

“I don’t know,” he admitted finally, his voice quiet. “Haven’t thought about this, but I’d probably have been devastated if he had rejected me. Wait,” he turned to the cat again. “Were you…?”

Da Qing shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said slowly, “we… didn’t talk… about it.” Under the other’s stare he felt the need to defend himself. “I haven’t done this before, okay? I have no idea how this stuff works and you are not an expert in healthy relationships either.” Before Zhao Yunlan could protest, he continued. “I just, I don’t know, I asked if something meant anything and they didn’t say anything and then I said it means nothing and--”

“Wait a minute,” the other interrupted, looking confused. “Nothing means anything? What is that supposed to mean?”

The cat shrugged. “Nothing, apparently.”

Zhao Yunlan groaned, letting his face sink into his hands. “Da Qing,” he began slowly, “I may not be the best example concerning relationships and all that,” he paused to look directly at the cat, “but even I realise that you need to talk about this. With each other.” Seeing Da Qing roll his eyes, he shoved him slightly. “I mean it, cat. What’s the worst that can happen? No, don’t answer that, I know, I know, but on the other hand, what’s the best that could happen, hm?”

With a grin, he stood up from his chair, leaving a stunned cat behind in the empty office. Da Qing pulled his feet up on the chair, leaning his chin on his knees, closing his eyes. Zhao Yunlan was right, he thought. He would have to talk to Ye Zun eventually.

- - -

As soon as Ye Zun opened the apartment door, he immediately sensed another presence in the kitchen and tensed reflexively. Da Qing has come back , was his first thought, but he would have recognized the cat’s aura everywhere, even without dark powers, and that was not Da Qing sitting at the small table, even though this aura was equally familiar. With a sigh, he relaxed his tense shoulders a fraction. Shen Wei.

Strolling into the apartment, he tossed his backpack on the bed, nodding to his brother. Before he could plop down on the couch, Shen Wei wordlessly moved the opposite chair in a clear invitation, and Ye Zun noticed a steaming mug on the table. Sighing, he let himself fall down onto the chair, grabbing the large mug in front of him. Expecting it to be Shen Wei’s special occasion feel-better-soon-tea, he took a large gulp, only to pause and stare at his brother.

“Gege,” he said cautiously, “this isn’t tea.”

Shen Wei nodded.

“This is hot chocolate.”

Another nod.

“You.. That’s what you give children when they’re unhappy,” he said incredulously. “How old do you think I am, gege?”

Shen Wei looked down at the table, saying nothing. Ye Zun hastened to reassure him. “But it’s okay, gege, I’ll drink it anyway.”

Shen Wei nodded again, then looked up at him.

“Are you?”

Ye Zun raised an eyebrow. “Am I what?”

“Unhappy.”

Ye Zun choked on a mouthful of liquid. After the coughing fit, he gingerly placed the mug back on the table, his eyes watery.

“Why do you think that?”, he asked when he felt he could breathe again.

His brother sighed, then looked directly at him, his eyes kind and caring. “Didi.” Ye Zun ignored how the word still sent a happy shiver down his spine every time Shen Wei said it and hummed vaguely.

“Didi,” his brother repeated. “Don’t hide from me.”

Ye Zun’s breath caught and he reached over the table to grab Shen Wei’s hand. “I’m not,” he tried to explain, “but I… it’s complicated,” he finished lamely. Shen Wei raised an eyebrow. “What is?”

Ye Zun took a deep breath to steel himself. “Say, if Zhao Yunlan hadn’t behaved the way he..” He made a vague gesture. “You know, would you…?”

Shen Wei blinked, then slowly raised an eyebrow. “Would I have taken the initiative?” Ye Zun nodded, sinking further into his chair. This wasn’t a conversation he was fond of having, definitely not. His brother thought for a moment, then said, “I don’t think so. I didn’t know if he remembered or if he would remember in the future, and I couldn’t risk the timeline. But,” he added quietly, “I would have regretted it.”

Ye Zun looked up. “Why?”

“Because I always thought of the possibilities, of what could have been. I couldn’t risk the future, so I protected the past, but all the time I thought, what if that past is all we get?” Shen Wei trailed off, as if he had said too much already, and Ye Zun tightened his grip on his brother’s hand. Biting his bottom lip, he tried to find something to say, when Shen Wei added, “I don’t know what happened, but if I learned something from the last months,” he smiled wryly, “then that a heartfelt conversation can solve a lot of problems before they get overwhelming.” Ye Zun almost snorted, but he had to admit the truth behind that statement. “Thank you,” he said quietly, which made Shen Wei smile in return, a real smile that made his eyes crinkle, and he nudged the mug in front of Ye Zun. “I made a whole pot, do you want some more?”

Smiling back, Ye Zun nodded.

- - -

Later that evening, Shen Wei had long portalled home, Ye Zun caught himself staring at the door. He had been feeling increasingly apprehensive the later it got, and now he felt downright queasy. With a groan, he made to get up from the couch, when a dull thump from the open window startled him. Before he could move, a large black cat squeezed through the gap, paused for a moment on the windowsill, then leapt gracefully onto the table.

Ye Zun swallowed. “Hi,” he managed hoarsely, trying to hide the tension in his voice.

Da Qing tilted his head, but didn’t say anything. Ye Zun inhaled shakily. “I..,” he tried, but faltered, unsure how to start. “We-”

“We need to talk,” Da Qing said at the same moment, and Ye Zun winced, but nodded. Then, with a fit of the old, familiar anger bubbling up, he snapped at the other, “But I’m not having this conversation when you’re like this." He gestured at the cat who was still perched on the table. Da Qing raised a furry eyebrow - how he did that while in cat form Ye Zun wasn’t entirely sure - and jumped onto the sofa, transforming mid-flight. He hit the cushions with a thud, turning to Ye Zun, eyebrow still raised. I changed back, it seemed to say, now what?

Now what indeed.

Ye Zun took another deep breath, then began. “That night… when we… you know…” He trailed off, sinking into the sofa, turning away from the other’s intense gaze. This was harder than anything he had ever done and he already felt exhausted. Da Qing sighed.

“My question is still the same,” he said softly.

Ye Zun blinked at him. “What question?”

“Did it mean anything?”

Oh .

Ye Zun’s heart skipped a few beats, then proceeded to thunder in his chest, so loudly he was convinced the other would hear it.

Did it mean anything?

That night had been exhilarating, even though, objectively, nothing earth-shattering had happened. They had just slept next to each other, but to Ye Zun it was different. He had never been so close to anyone, literally and figuratively, had never trusted anyone enough to open his heart, let them in. He had never held anyone’s hand, never woken up to someone’s arm around his waist. It had felt hot and searing, blinding and numbing, but at the same time it was calming, soothing. Never had anything felt this good, and he had never been this afraid either.

It was complicated, to say the least, and he couldn’t voice any of this. How could he tell Da Qing he wanted nothing more than to curl up into his embrace, to press so close there wasn’t any space left between them, to feel the other’s hands on his skin. He wanted him close, but at the same time every fiber of his being told him to run, to hide, to hate, to fear. He had survived this long precisely because he didn’t trust anyone, but now he wanted, and the conflicting emotions inside his heart almost paralyzed him.

Clamping his mouth shut, he tried to fight back the feelings that threatened to overwhelm him: frustration, fear, desire, hope.

Da Qing turned to look at him, probably sensing Ye Zun’s turmoil. Reaching out a hand, he cupped the other’s cheek and turned his face slightly upwards. “Hey,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. “Look at me.”

Ye Zun shook his head frantically and kept staring at the other’s collarbone. Da Qing sighed again and, with his free hand, brushed an errant strand of silver hair behind Ye Zun’s ear, eliciting a full-body shudder.

“Did it mean something?”, he asked again, and this time, Ye Zun gave a tiny nod, hearing Da Qing’s breath catch.

He saw the other’s throat move as he swallowed hard, then inhaled deeply. The hand on Ye Zun’s cheek moved to weave in his hair, gently caressing his nape, the other reached around his waist, resting on his lower back. Slowly, carefully, Da Qing tightened his grip, enfolding him in an embrace.

There wasn’t that much of a height difference between them, but in that moment, Ye Zun suddenly felt overwhelmingly safe, held, and cared for. With a strangled sob, he hid his face in the other’s neck, his arms around Da Qing’s back. Tilting his head slightly, Da Qing leaned his cheek against silver hair, breathing slowly.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, barely audible, and Ye Zun’s breath hitched dangerously. He tightened his grip on the other, burying his face deeper in the crook of his neck. He felt a hand caress his back, slowly, gently, and bit his bottom lip in an attempt not to sob.

After a while, when Ye Zun felt calmed down enough to face Da Qing, he leaned back a bit, his hands stilling on the other’s waist. “I’m sorry,” he began hoarsely, but the cat just shook his head. “Don’t,” he replied, “don’t be. Not for this.”

He gave Ye Zun a shy smile, then brushed another strand of hair behind his ear. Resting his hand on Ye Zun’s cheek, he wiped at the wetness under the other’s eye.

“If you let me,” he began, his voice wavering slightly. Looking directly at Ye Zun, his gaze full of emotion, he went on, “if you let me, I’ll take care of you.”

Ye Zun’s inner voice snorted at that, he was able to take care of himself, has done so for centuries, thank you very much, but at the same time, that sentence made his heart flip. Yes, he wanted to scream, I am so tired of being alone, but the other voices almost drowned him. With a groan, he tried to raise a hand to hide his face, but Da Qing caught it.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said softly, slowly caressing the knuckles with his thumb. “Just… Let me… Let me take care of you.” He paused, his hand still enveloping Ye Zun’s fingers. “Let me love you,” he said finally, quiet and hopeful, and Ye Zun couldn’t help but look up. Their eyes met, and Ye Zun found the same emotions he had been struggling with in Da Qing’s gaze: fear, hope, desire. In a fit of courage he himself didn’t quite understand, he leaned in and pressed his lips against Da Qing’s. The other’s eyes widened, then his grip in Ye Zun’s hair tightened and he kissed back, hungry and desperate.

When they had to part for breath after a while, Da Qing leaned back a fraction to look at him, a soft smile spreading over his whole face. Ye Zun watched with bated breath as it reached his eyes, the fear and hesitation from before long gone. He couldn’t help but smile back, closing his eyes.

They would figure it out.

#镇魂 guardian #guardian #zhèn hún #da qing #ye zun #dazun #my writing #guardian fanfic #ad astra per aspera

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narutos-fat-meat · 4 years

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**Crave**

Tags: SMUT, cheating, dubious consent/(slight) non-con, angst(?), first time, voyeurism, exhibitionism, jealousy

*PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I FORGOT TO INCLUDE ANYTHING*

*SMUT BELOW THE CUT*

******

How did you end up in this situation? All you had wanted was for your first time to be special like every girl wants. You and Kageyama had talked and thought about losing your virginities to each other before. Sure it was nerve-wracking and the conversations were awkward with Kageyama being, well, himself but neither of you had much experience. Both of you had made out with people before but nothing had ever gone beyond second base. You’d been together for 11 months and you were getting antsy.

Watching him on the court was an otherworldly experience, the way his intensity radiated off of his body made you shiver and your mind often wandered to those fingers of his and what they were capable of. Long and strong, he was a setter after all. You weren’t the only one feeling like this either, you could tell. Kageyama had recently developed a habit of turning your study sessions into make-out sessions, and it was getting boring. He wasn't a bad kisser, far from it, but he always ended it before you got anywhere good. Yeah, he’d grope your tits but never under your shirt. You’d try to grind your hips onto his but he’d use his strength to keep you firm in your place, denying you any pleasure, very pg-13 by your standards. You wanted more, so much more so when it came time to talk about taking the next step you had felt unsure. Did Kageyama even want to have sex with you?

There was never any doubt in your mind that you wanted to lose your virginity to Kageyama. He was your first serious boyfriend after all and not only that, you loved him. But what if he didn’t feel the same way? What if him pushing you off his lap after your short-lived make-outs was him trying to tell you that he didn’t love you? But that didn't make sense or else why would he spend 11 months leading you on like that? Sure he was apathetic sometimes but never was he intentionally cruel. Determined to ease your mind, you set out to find out why he seemed so apprehensive to go further.

The next time you invited Kageyama over to “study” you took matters into your own hands. You sat on his lap like you always did and when he went to place his hands on your hips like usual, you gently took a hold of one of them and guided it under your shirt and placed it directly over your naked breast earning a surprised groan from the pretty setter’s mouth. He broke the kiss suddenly, a string of saliva still connecting the two of you. “Y/N what...what are you doing?” he rasped out, his face red and chest heaving slightly from the lack of oxygen. “Touch me” you pleaded, feeling him shift under your weight. The warmth of his calloused hand on your bare breast succeeding in setting your skin on fire. “Please,” you begged desperately, slowly grinding your hips down onto his growing erection. You heard him groan low in the back of his throat before his hands were off you completely and you unceremoniously slumped off his lap and landed with a soft 'oof' onto your bed.

“Kageyama what the hell?!” you asked with fresh tears pricking the sides of your eyes. “I...I’m sorry y/n." He stood at the foot of your bed, his hands trying and failing to hide his obvious hard-on. "I just never done this before okay?"

Your heart swelled at the sight of his anxiety and you felt silly for ever doubting the love your boyfriend had for you. “And neither have I Tobio baby” you reassured him, sitting up and patting the spot next to you on your bed. He hesitantly shuffled over and took the spot next to you.

“We don’t have to go further if you don’t want to-”

“ NO I want to!” he interrupts, blue eyes wide with determination. You chuckle at his enthusiasm. “Okay so how about this, we don’t do anything tonight but tomorrow after you’re done with volleyball practice, you come over and we...go from there."

All you wanted was to have slow and kind of awkward sex with the boy you loved. So how did it end up being Sugawara-san between your legs while your boyfriend sat back and watched?

“Sugawara-senpai are you sure this is ok?” you hear Kageyama ask from his seat off to the side of the bed, hesitation tinting his voice.

“Of course, it is my little kouhai, I mean you did ask for some tips didn’t you?" he chuckles darkly and your stomach drops. No, you think, this can’t be happening. Kageyama is letting Sugawara take your virginity. “I can’t show you if I can't touch her now can I?” he says as if it’s the most normal thing ever. “Please”, you start but he cuts you off. "Shhh princess, let Suga-san take care of you."

You inch back onto your bed afraid to feel Sugawara’s touch, but he’s nothing if not persistent. “Calm down princess, I'm only doing what your little boyfriend here asked me to do”, he coos sweetly extending his hand towards you. You look at it for a second dumbfounded. He’s sweet.

You think.

He sees the gears in your brain working to make sense of the situation and strokes the apple of your cheek with the pad of his thumb. The motion is oddly calming despite you not knowing him well. You lean into his touch and he smirks inching his face closer to yours. Your breath catches in your throat and then his lips are on yours. You can feel how soft they are and you can’t help but moan into his mouth. Sugawara takes the opportunity to shove his tongue in your mouth and let his hands wander. The kiss is heated, passionate, and it makes you clench your thighs in anticipation.

Sugawara breaks the kiss suddenly leaving you to chase after his lips. “I want to see you...all of you” he hums, standing to remove his clothes. You follow his lead leaving only your panties on to keep at least some of your dignity.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful” he hisses through gritted teeth, eye leering at your almost naked form. Your face flushes as he pushes you into the confines of the mattress and he's quick to position himself above you, his shadow basking over your form. As if he never left, both his hands and lips were on you again. His talented fingers tweak your nipples and his lips leave a trail of kisses down your neck until he abruptly stops just above your chest. “Oh Kageyama, look at how hard her nipples are!” Sugawara coos sickeningly as he takes one of the hardened buds into his mouth swirling his tongue and making you arch into his touch. “Surely, you’ve done this before...no?" he asks with genuine surprise tinting his tone. You feel him smirk as he moves further down, his nose caressing your abdomen.

You feel him come to an abrupt stop right as he reaches the hem of your panties, anticipation pooling in your stomach until he hooks his fingers inside and begins to slide them off. You hear him inhale sharply and all you can do is attempt to hide your embarrassment behind your hands.

"Ah ah ah princess”, he rasps. “I thought I told you I wanted to see all of you...that includes your pretty little face." He reaches up and pulls your hands away from your face, stopping to interlock his fingers with your own. It felt weirdly intimate considering he’s just taking your virginity as a favor to Kageyama. His fingers are gone in an instant and he takes his place back between your legs.

“Kageyama you call yourself a setter, right?”

Kageyama responds immediately. “Yes Suga-san”

“Okay so you should have some degree of coordination" he sneers, malice laced in his tone. It's obvious he’s getting off on teasing Kageyama, but you can’t be bothered enough to care because just as you’re about to tell him to knock it off you feel him run his fingers against your folds, collecting your arousal. You bite your lip to stifle a moan and hear him chuckle. “Oh...you’re so responsive." He continues with decorating his fingers with your arousal until after what seems like hours, he decides his fingers are wet enough and slowly he begins to push past the rings of muscle at your entrance. In response, your insides clamp down at the sudden breach.

“God you’re so fucking tight” he groans, and you feel your face flush for the thousandth time that night. Slowly he starts pumping his fingers in and out, curling them now and then stretching out your walls.

You claw at the bedsheets underneath you, back arching and mind blank with pleasure. You’re so close to the edge, you’re trying to hold off and you’re doing so well enough until Sugawara decides to add a third finger and it pushes right up against that sweet spot. “C-close” you manage to stutter out overwhelmed by the pleasure, and just as you're about to finally cum Sugawara comes to a complete stop. “Ah ah ah pretty girl," he coos. “I want you to come on my tongue."

You think you misheard him until he starts to speak again. “Kageyama my sweet little kouhai, listen closely okay? If you want to make your little girlfriend here a wet mess try doing two things at once." He waits for Kageyama to nod and he continues. "Don’t be lazy, you have a mouth and big strong hands don’t you?”

“Yes Suga-san," Kageyama answers, voice barely above a whisper, eyes locked with Sugawara’s, almost as if he’s transfixed. “Okay now pay close attention,” he says as he lowers his face down between your legs. You feel him run his tongue against your folds, his fingers still inside, and you let out an unabashed moan. “You see how she’s trembling? Yeah, you want that.” He continues his ministrations, unashamed as his nose pressed completely against your clit. You try to grind down on his face, but he uses his free hand to pin your hips to the mattress and you huff at his denial of your pleasure.

You start to beg. “P-please,” you could feel the throbbing sensation from earlier returning. At the sound of your pleas, Sugawara smirk against your pussy as he finally resumes pumping his fingers, the combination of his fingers and his tongue has you seeing stars and you think it can’t get much better until he sucks gently on your clit.

“Do it," he commands, his face still between your now shaking legs. “Fuck come on my face princess” he adds and that’s all it takes for you to come with his name falling from your lips.

Suddenly it’s as if his entire aura has changed and he removes his fingers from your entrance and angles his face so he’s staring up at you from between your legs. His gaze is predatory and a chill runs down your spine.

Chest still heaving and mind still reeling from an otherworldly orgasm you fail to notice Sugawara position his rock-hard cock at your entrance. “Aww Kageyama did you hear your little whore girlfriend cum with my name on her lips?" he spits and you’re shocked, this isn’t the same Sugawara you know, it can’t be. You feel him begin to slide his erection in and you choke on a gasp. He’s so big to the point you feel like you’re being split in half.

“S-S-Suga san,” you moan, back arching and he groans low in the back of his throat. He continues with his banter with Kageyama. "Maybe if you knew how to please her she’d be moaning your name instead of mine." It takes him a full three minutes to finally bottom out and once he does all you can do is shut your eyes tight to keep the tears now pricking your eyes from cascading down your face. He gives you a minute to adjust to his size, before he grips your hips tightly, pulls out completely, and slams back in. You choke on a scream, clawing at his forearms. You look to your side, tearful eyes landing on Kageyama, silently and desperately begging him to help you. He looks away quickly refusing to meet your eyes, your trailing down to see his erection, damn pervert.

Sugawara looks over at Kageyama and scoffs removing one of his hands from your hips to grip your face. He digs his fingers into your cheeks and forces you to look at him. He sneers, “Look at me and not at him,” before grinding his dick inside you. He starts lazily thrusting his hips, and it almost seems like he’ll keep that gentle pace until he speaks up.

“Cat got your tongue princess?” you shake your head. “Then open your mouth and make some noise. Let Kageyama know how much you appreciate that he set this up for you.” You oblige, opening your mouth and letting out a feeble whine. “Come on baby girl I know you can be louder than that, let's show Kageyama what he’s missing,” he says and then he sets a brutal and almost bruising pace, his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. Soon you feel your second orgasm of the night steadily approaching. “You know...” he says, taking his hands off your hips and maneuvering your legs so they’re on his shoulders, “I’m much older than your little boyfriend here, so call me senpai from now on.” You moan at his words, feeling yourself clench around his cock. You’re coming on another man’s cock as your boyfriend watches and somehow, you’re not the least bit phased only craving to be fucked longer, harder. Sugawara fucks you through your second orgasm truly milking you for all you’re worth.

He pulls out and your stomach drops, is it over? No, it can’t be.

“Don’t look so sad princess,” he coos flipping you onto your stomach and positioning you so your ass is up in the air and your face pressed into the mattress. “I’m far from finished with you, I’m gonna fuck you so good you’ll crave my cock for the rest of your life." He slides back in all in one go and your eyes roll to the back of your head. The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room obscenely. His thrusts are truly unforgiving, bruising, and brutal. His hand gropes your hip as the other grips your hair, so your back is flush against his body. You feel the telltale heat of a third orgasm building up within seconds and then it suddenly disappeared. No no no. You were so close.

“You think a whore like you deserves to come three times? When your senpai hasn’t even come once?" He was greeted with silence and hummed lightly. "Answer me slut” he growls in your ear as he slowly grinds up into you. “N-no."

“Ok then show me you deserve it, beg baby girl, beg me for it like the whore you are."

It’s almost as if he’s cast a spell on you with those words. “Please Suga senpai," you moan unashamed. “Let me cum, please I've been a good girl. Please!” Your begging was unbelievably loud and he’s so close. “Fuck you don’t know how many times I've stuffed my hand down my pants fantasizing about getting to fuck you just like this”, he growls.

“God this is so much better than I ever imagined, your pussy was made to take my cock" he mutters more to himself. You feel his hips stutter and sure enough, he’s coming inside you. “Fuck y/n take it, fuck take my cum, fuck take your senpai’s cum." You feel the warmth of his cum filling you, stuffing you to the brim, and ripping a scream from you as you came in tow, completely exhausted.

“I think that’s enough Sugawara san." Kageyama's voice is firm, almost murderous, breaking you out of your trance, his erection betraying his tone. This was supposed to be his first time too and he had allowed his senpai to take it from him, how could he? Your eyes fill with tears for the second time that night and you can’t bring yourself to look at your...boyfriend? Ex-boyfriend? Who even knows at this point? Suga senpai was right, you’re sure you’ll never be able to get the feel of his cock out of your mind. You’ll crave the feeling of being fucked open on it for the rest of your life. You'd had the best as your first and nothing would ever compare.

******

A/N: This is the first fanfic I’ve written in years, as well as the first one I’ve written for this fandom I really hope ya’ll enjoyed it:)

Come talk to me about it, or request a fic of your own:)

likes and reblogs appreciated

ALSO VERY SPECIAL THANKS TO BOTH @atsumuse AND @astrablossom FOR PROOFREADING:)

#haikyuu #haikyuu smut #sugawara koushi #sugawara x reader #kageyama #kageyama x reader #haikyuu x y/n #hq sin bin #hq nice spice

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tantawans · 3 years

Text

i was tagged by @zhaozi @serannes and @thanaerngs! love u all 💘💖

1. why did you choose your url? because of my beloved wife tantawan from my ambulance! also it was from a voting poll so ppl also helped me choose <3

2. any sideblogs?

yes, too many! here is a comprehensive list of all my other blogs:

iloveziont (my main blog bc i love zion.t and everyone should know this)

5purs (my football sideblog yes i support tottenham hotspur no i don’t take criticism)

1vav (a kpop sideblog for vav that i don’t use anymore)

eloaomg (a blog for the krnb artist elo who is underrated and only has like 10 fans so he doesn’t really need a fanblog on tumblr dot com but here i am)

lqziont (self explanatory)

and finally lakornladies and lakornet <3

3. how long have you been on tumblr? too long! at least 10 years lmao

4. do you have a queue tag? i don’t. i prefer to just reblog posts as and when i’m online i’m too lazy to plan out my posts ahead of time

5. why did you start your blog in the first place? no one was giffing the thai dramas i wanted to reblog. i’m grateful that now there’s a huge interest in thai dramas and lakorns so there’s always fun and interesting content!

6. why did you choose your icon/pfp? i’m obsessed with mai davika and what about it !

7. why did you choose your header? my bestie vianey made it for me because she is far more talented at making headers than me! also i love aokbab <3

8. whats your post with the most notes? probably a bl post i made back when i didn’t have taste (i checked and its this maxtul post)

9. how many mutuals do you have? i can’t keep track of my mutuals that well since this is a sideblog but i love all my moots even if i don’t realise we’re mutuals

10. how many followers do you have? 2.7k which is not reflected in my notes at all <3

11. how many people do you follow? 176 but that’s across all my blogs. i only follow very few thai drama blogs because u can’t trust anyone around here <3

12. have you ever made a shitpost? every post i make is a shitpost

13. how often do you use tumblr each day? once but continuously ajksadhsjq

14. did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? i think we all know the answer is yes. although is it really an argument if they block u before u can respond because they know they’re wrong?

15. how do you feel about 'you need to reblog this' posts? they’re usually guilt trippy and annoying if i wanted to reblog it i would bestie if u say i have to then i’m not going to <3

16. do you like tag games? yes! they’re really fun and i enjoy reading other people’s as well. but i usually take a long time to get around to them and then never post them. i also feel really awkward about tagging people so i usually never do that ajshdjaks

17. do you like ask games? yes! i like drama related ones or personal ones the most since it can be hard to know what people are really like on here so i think they’re interesting and good to get to know ppl!

18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous? sophia @yihwas is tumblr famous and twitter famous i’m guessing she will be storygraph famous next <3 she is a god among mortals

19. do you have a crush on a mutual? vianey @thanaerngs i am love u <3 she is wonderful and also makes beautiful gifs (and headers.. it’s true look at mine) but i really love all my mutuals so much they are all so lovely!!!

20. tags? as i explained i’m too shy to tag ppl directly but i’m pretty sure everyone has already done this or at least already been tagged but if u haven’t then consider this as me tagging you <3

#thank u all for tagging me i love talking about myself <3 #tagged

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kilyra · 4 years

Text

You Wanted More

Eric Northman (True Blood) One-Shot

A/N: Well, absolutely no one directly requested this, but I’m carrying on with the Eric Northman arc because...I wanna - so this is following “You Will”, “You Did, Sweetheart”, “You a Fangbanger, now?”, and “You Shouldn’t Have Come”

Training with Jason Stackhouse leaves you pretty banged up, a fact Eric is not happy about when he shows up to find you on heavy drugs for the pain.

Warnings: Racy bits kinda, bit of gore I guess, alluding to events in the show. But not out and out spoilers. (I myself am only on S3 or 4, so this is an early Eric style fic…also, please don’t send me any spoilers).

If you want to be on my tag lists, (all or just a character) just let me know! (Credit for this amazing gif goes to @bonniebird. Thank you SO much!)

The pain meds were strong. Knowing Jason got them from Lafayette, you didn't ask many questions so all you really had were the basics – don't drive and don't mix with alcohol. That, and they were guaranteed to let you breathe a little easier without the throbbing and sometimes stabbing pain shooting down your side.

It wasn't until after taking a couple and immediately being hit with a wall of unstoppable drowsiness that you realized just how strong they were. But at least you weren't in pain. You may not be forced to see a doctor after all.

Focusing was impossible, but you didn't mind staring blankly at the TV and zoning out. It was better than flinching every time you moved. As you sank into the couch, letting the waves of relaxation take over, you eventually became aware that something seemed different. A breeze maybe? Did something shift? Not that it really mattered but...

Slowly, your eyes drifted to the couch beside you and you were vaguely aware there was a set of legs. Which was odd. There wasn't usually legs beside you. With effort, you followed the legs up to see Eric Northman perched on the back of your couch, passively staring down at you.

Apparently, the pills were not only strong, but they had completely knocked you out.

“Huh, well I didn't expect that.” Smiling to yourself, you let out a soft chuckle.

Eric's eyebrows creased at your greeting before swiftly falling back into place. His eyes swept over you like he was trying to figure out what he missed, but his features stayed neutral. “Yes, well, I thought it was time to have a talk about what happened at Fangtasia.”

His velvety voice was flat and unimpressed, but your heart still fluttered as it reached your ears. Although some of your dreams have started with conversations, it was a little surprising that he wanted to talk. “Is that what you thought?”

Pulling his gaze away, he focused on his dark pants, absently picking at something that you couldn't see. To be fair, focusing on something as small as a bit of fluff was next to impossible since everything seemed to have blurred edges anyhow.

“Pam did, actually. And I got tired of arguing with her about it.”

There was something oddly sensual about how he pinched at the loose thread, his nimble fingers making short work of what irritated him. Lightly biting your lip, you suddenly wanted those fingers on your skin, skilfully giving your body the attention he was wasting on fabric.

And why not? It was your dream after all.

Lightly humming a reply, you shifted your weight so you were facing the pale vampire. Taking your time, you let your gaze wander over his body. His shirt clung to him so perfectly that you could see his muscular physique almost as clearly as if he were naked. Almost.

As your eyes floated up to his, you saw he was carefully staring at you with a sidelong glance as though he didn't want to bring too much attention to the fact he was watching you. But his ice-cold eyes were so piercing, it was impossible to not be drawn in. Were they that stunning in real life, or was your mind adding that?

Tilting his head, he studied you more obviously and pulled you from your stupor. Offering a lazy smile, you shrugged playfully. “And why would Pam insist on you talking to me, hmm?”

Sighing, he smoothed his hand over the spot he had been picking at and straightened. He broke your eye contact to stare across the room before he spoke. “According to her, ever since you defended me to your roommate I-”

You hadn't expected him to actually continue talking. Normally, in your dreams, he would have responded by sliding off the back of the couch, smoothly claiming your mouth with his as he wrapped his arms around you in an unyielding embrace. Warmth was already spreading through you at the mere thought of him holding you possessively and pressing himself against you as he eased you back onto the cushions...

But instead, he was talking. Still.

Reaching over, you set your hand on his knee and, to your surprise, his words sputtered to a stop.

Clearing his throat, he tried to continue even though you already missed half of what he said. “...And while I don't exactly agree, she mi-”

Running your tongue over your lip, you circled your fingers over the top of his leg and stared up at him through your eyelashes. You couldn't help your smirk when his words suddenly died out again and his eyes darted to your hand.

The corner of his mouth tugged downward in a faint frown as his eyebrows quickly dipped low before settling back into his usual blank expression. “What...are you doing?”

Your dreams had never had so much lead-up before and you had to admit, it was a little fun to toy with him. Using him for support, you pulled yourself forward, getting your legs under you. Easing yourself closer, you were only mildly surprised when his knees opened wider with very little coaxing. Watching you with curious eyes, he gave in to your touch without resistance. You doubted the real Eric would ever let you direct him so easily, allowing you to sit up on your knees between his legs.

Although to be fair, you'd never do anything like that with the real Eric anyhow...

“I'm listening, is what I'm doing. To what I'm sure will be a lecture that I can't seem to escape even in my dreams," you finally replied with an air of smugness as you sidestepped his question.

“A lecture? In your...dreams?” His words were only slightly hesitant as he forced his stare up from your hands to meet your eyes. You thought you saw a heavy swallow, but he gave no other indication of being caught off-guard.

As you spoke, you started massaging your fingers along his thigh, steadily moving them higher. Your fingertips dug into the fabric of his pants and you distantly wondered if he even really felt the pressure. “You know, about how I can't go to Fangtasia like I did. How it's not safe for me there.”

His eyes dropped to your hands one last time before slowly dragging up your body and finally, the ice in his eyes seemed to melt. The slight change in his gaze sent a spark through your chest and down your limbs as you gripped his leg tighter.

A smile slowly etched its way onto his lips as his moment of confusion seemed to pass. When he spoke, there was an undeniable purr to his tone. “Mmm, well I suppose part of that is true. You can't go there, not like you did.”

“Not like I did? And how should I be going there?” Your breath hitched as he seemed to finally get on the same page as you. Letting your wandering hands settle on his hips, your heart jumped as his fingers traced their way along your arms. If this was like any dream before, it would only be seconds until he stopped with the pretenses and pulled you in close. Your whole body hummed in anticipation.

Instead, his hands came to rest on the sides of your shoulders as his eyes narrowed slightly. Leaning forward, his face was inches from yours as his lips curled back in a wicked grin. With a flick of his wrist, his hand shot up from your shoulder to grip your hair, holding you in place. “As mine.”

A sharp gasp ripped from your throat as a cold rush raced through you. But it only added to the flame in your core. Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you ran your hands up, under his shirt and let your nails graze his skin as you pulled yourself closer.

Quietly, a dull pain that started swimming in from the edges of your mind protested the movement. But you were far too distracted.

With a growl, he brought his face almost close enough to kiss but paused, his eyes scanning your face as though he were looking for answers. Your hand flexed from the torture of denial, digging your nails into his skin. His grip on your hair tightened and you found yourself pressing your thighs together, trying not to squirm under his grasp. Your eyelids fluttered closed as you nodded. “Yes..y-yours.”

His growl grew deeper as he closed the gap, his lips hungrily seeking you. Within seconds, his tongue dominated yours, not that you put up a fight, your lips willingly parted for him. Moaning into his mouth, you easily gave up any false idea of control, letting yourself fall into the haze of his passionate kiss as he held you in place. Under his shirt, your hand ran up his muscled torso, resting against his solid chest. Taking your hint, he pulled away and quickly yanked his shirt over his head, tossing somewhere in the room before finding your lips again.

As your hand traced further up his body, you quickly nestled your fingers in his hair. Your pulse was racing so wildly you were glad you didn't have to try and stand as you kept your balance by tightly clinging to the Adonis in your arms.

Subtly he shifted, dancing his free hand along the small of your back as he tugged your hair, forcefully breaking the kiss. Gasping, you didn't have time to mourn the loss before he dropped his head to the crook of your neck. His teeth grazed your skin as you felt him sucking a dark mark into you. Had you been awake, you would have been terrified that he was about to bite you but...since it was just a dream...the thought was shamefully exciting. Letting your face nestle against his neck, you relished the idea that, at any second, his teeth could pierce flesh and he would truly claim you as his.

Drawing the moment out, his bites were firm but not enough to break skin, quickly followed by his tongue swirling along your neck. Burrowing your face against him, you quietly moaned, enjoying the cool woodsy scent that seemed to float up around you.

As he tucked you against him, gently devouring your neck, his hand trailed down your body seeking the bare skin of your leg. A deep throbbing turned into an ache and you desperately wanted your legs wrapped around his waist, letting you grind against him for a breath of relief. Like in so many dreams before.

But as his fingers pressed into your leg, screaming pain shot through you with such force, your stomach lurched and black stars danced across your vision.

Crying out, your body went rigid except for the instinctive flinch of your leg in an attempt to pull away. Dropping your hand, you moved to slap him back but as you wrenched yourself, more agony ripped through your torso, completely stealing your breath.

You suspected before that a rib had slipped out of place, but as you were blinded by white bursts from each breath, you realized it might be broken. And the pain meds were already apparently wearing off with the rush of adrenaline.

It didn't occur to you that dreams weren't ever so painful...

Letting your hair loose, Eric continued to cup your scalp as a deep furrow formed in his forehead.

“I'm fine...it's nothing.” It tumbled out through grit teeth before you could even question why you lied.

The muscles along his cheek popped as his jaw clenched. His nose flared slightly, the only warning you had before his hands clenched around the back of your head, holding you in place again. Hissing, you tried to slip out of his grasp, but it only brought more pain as he drew his hand along your leg, pulling up the bottom of your shorts.

It seemed impossible, but his body tensed even more as he exposed the large, deep bruise that covered most of your upper thigh. Pulling them up until they drew tight, it was obvious the bruise went higher than he could see with the shorts still on. As you grimaced from the pressure, he let the fabric slip from his fingers before grasping the edge of your top.

He was determined to see just how high it went.

As he lifted the back of your shirt with surprising gentleness, you focused on your shallow breathing. The last time you looked in the mirror, you saw the bruises that covered most of your side were almost black and accompanied by a long set of deep scrapes starting near your spine and fanning out to the side of your ribcage. And you doubted it looked any better now.

Straightening, he looked deep in your eyes, not masking the quiet fury that laid deep in his stare. “Who did this?”

“No one,” you said quietly, trying not to shrink away.

“Do not make me glamour you.” His stony expression hadn't changed, but his voice dropped dangerously low.

Swallowing heavily, you fought to keep from snapping your eyes shut. Forcing a hard exhale through your nose, you pushed out each word until it got easier. “No one, alright? Jason Stackhouse was there, but I just fell off an obstacle course and hit pretty much every piece of equipment on the way down.”

For a moment, his eyes silently studied your face as though he were trying to decide if you were lying. Finally, his eyebrow flicked upwards in faint quirk. “And what were you two doing on an obstacle course to begin with?”

Immediately, your pulse spiked and you felt heat rush to your cheeks. You didn't owe him an explanation, but you did throw Jason's name out there and that suddenly felt like a bad move. But it had to be better than what you might say if you were glamoured...right?

“You were right, you know...at Fangtasia? There are things I can do to protect myself and I had heard a bit about Jason's time in Dallas so-”

Eric's sudden scoff cut you off cold. When he spoke, there was a new hardness in his tone and you knew you crossed some invisible line. “Right. And those? Did those come from him too?”

Both his eyebrows lifted, gesturing past you and without looking back, you knew he was talking about the painkillers sitting out on the coffee table. Desperately trying to keep your breathing calm as you looked up at him, you shrugged. You didn't want to give him another name. “I don't...know where he got them.”

“I think we both know it's pretty obvious, sweetheart. But what matters is, you should have come to me with this.” He spoke with a dismissive tone as he freed his grip on you.

His mood swing threw your rush of adrenaline into confusion. The bewilderment that dropped over you was so thick, and likely still drug-ladened, that you didn’t even try to move away from him even though he had set his hand down on his knee. There was simply no desire to put space between you and being tucked between his knees somehow made you feel protected. Even if he did scare you.

“I...I should...come to you for pain meds...or...?”

There was no hint of humour on his face as he continued. "Both. I can better teach you to defend yourself against my kind, more so than Stackhouse ever could. But especially for your injuries. I can't have you walking around like this, it's embarrassing.”

“...Embarrassing?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you echoed him, trying to piece together what he was talking about.

“Yes. Since I had to publicly declare you as mine, there is a certain standard to uphold. And having my human limping around, half-broken is simply unacceptable.” His silky voice contrasted the insulting words as he brought his wrist up to his lips.

Your stomach flipped as he snarled, giving you the perfect view as his fangs dropped. Without hesitation, he bit into his own flesh and you were too stunned to back away. But you should have.

Eric's lips were glittering red as he pulled back and ran his tongue over them. Holding his wrist out to you, his speech was slightly different as he spoke through his fangs. “Drink.”

Horrified, you followed his gaze down to his arm and the blood slowly bubbling from his punctures. Finally flinching back, you felt the dull pain of your side roar to life as your heart thudded against your chest.

Before you could back off the couch, his arms were a blur as he grabbed your hair and forced your head to turn. Your repeated chorus of no, meant nothing as his arm wrapped around you and forced you to spin on your knees until you were facing away from him. Soon, you were trapped between his chest and his wrist that he pressed to your mouth.

Keeping your lips tightly closed, you felt them grow slick with his blood. Jerking away, your head met his collarbone and you had nowhere left to go as his arm pressed against you with more pressure. Whimpering a pitiful cry, your hands dug into his thighs as you tried to push yourself away. But all you did was brace your back against his chest. It was useless. He had you clamped against him, utterly immobilized.

“I'm helping you, don't waste it.” His voice carried the weariness of an exhausted parent dealing with a petulant child. As he sighed, he twisted his wrist enough to force an opening between your bruised lips.

As the copper taste flooded your mouth, your gut clenched and trying to take a breath through your nose didn't help.

You were going to vomit.

But just as the warm blood trickled down the back of your throat, something changed. On a primal level, your disgust turned to need. Squeezing Eric's thighs to brace yourself, you tried to process what was happening, but everything was moving too fast. You needed his blood like you needed air and your body greedily gulped it back. On its own, one hand lifted from his knee to clasp around his wrist as if you could hold him there.

“Good girl,” Eric cooed in your ear as he brushed your hair back from your face. A shiver ran down your spine at his praise and you found yourself writhing, trying to grind against him even though you were in too awkward of a position to be successful.

Staring out into the room, you noticed everything grow sharper as your heartbeat steadied. The fog of the painkillers dissipated as a new energy vibrated its way through your chest and yet the pain didn't return. There was a faint hint of discomfort remaining, but you could feel it recede like the tide. It was a renewal like you had never experienced. And you wanted more.

Gently resting his hand on your forehead, he kept you against his chest as he pulled his wrist away. Another whine escaped your throat and was met with a soft chuckle. “No, now trust me, that's enough.”

Twisting around to face him, you frowned, ready to protest more. Before you could, he silenced you with a fleeting smile before he wiped his fingertip along your chin. Holding up his hand, you saw the wasted blood and, without hesitation, you leaned forward and took his fingers in your mouth. His lips parted slightly as he watched you suck and eagerly sweep your tongue over his skin. Keeping your eyes glued to his, you suddenly didn't care what horror had just taken place...you just wanted to pick up where you had left off. You wanted him.

And then your phone rang.

As the loud ringtone cut through the moment, your floating sensation came crashing down around you. What was going on? What had Eric done to you?

Blinking, you retreated, leaving his clean fingers outstretched for a moment until he gripped the back of the couch. A soft frown touched his lips as his eyes darted to the screen phone.

“It seems Stackhouse at least has a conscious about the damage he's done,” Eric said flatly.

Everything was clear. Too clear. The whole evening flashed before you and a growing realization became too loud to ignore. “This...this isn't a dream, is it?”

His eyebrows faintly arched before his face fell. It was slight, but the muscles twitched around the corners of his mouth and his eyes grew dull as they looked past you to settle on the pill bottle. "A...dream. Right. It seems that Lafayette broke out the good stuff."

Pulling your hands to your chest, you didn't stop him as he swung a leg off the back of the couch. As he stood with ease, you were reminded again of just how big he was as he towered over you, but somehow it didn't scare you this time. Blinking rapidly and trying to ignore the sense of loss of that descended as he moved away, you failed to stop your eyes from trailing over his still-bare chest. His sculpted muscles were pale perfection and you couldn't help your stare as he leaned down and smoothly swiped his shirt from the floor.

Once he tugged it down over his head, he nodded towards the phone on the coffee table. “You'd better answer. You wouldn't want to keep your hero waiting.”

Although he said it lightly, as though he were cracking a joke, your stomach knotted. You knew if you didn't answer, Jason would turn up at the door and you weren't done trying to sort out what just happened. Pinching your lips together in a tight line as another shrill ring broke the silence, you finally glanced down at the phone.

And by the time you looked back up, Eric was gone.

Taglist: @foreverfaeries @flower-two @getlostinyourparadise @selfishkiddo @angelicshinigami @parkersbabey @thatchampagnebitch @mysteryoflovve @edweirdoddlepot @divadinag @crazy-fandom-girl1 @givemeabite @breanime @shondlenoodle @hermionesalvatore84 @dyingformyships @dreamers-wonderland @adriellej @sherrybaby14

#eric northman x reader #eric x reader #true blood #eric northman

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imaginethathaikyuu · 4 years

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kinktober 2020 faq // prologue

alright mothers and fuckers, kinktober is right around the corner and just like last year, we got an faq!

i’m making this post to answer some faq’s and to preface the event, that way there’s one place you can all find all of my kinktober info. (yes a lot of this is copy and pasted from kinktober 2019′s faq, cuz i am Lazy)

PSA: if you’re not into this event and don’t wanna see the posts, please blacklist the “kinktober 2020″ tag, as that’s the tag i’ll be using throughout the month for my kinktober fics!

ok now take this faq:

what is kinktober? - definition taken from fanlore: “Kinktober is a multifandom prompt based challenge that encourages the creation of erotic fanworks, mostly fanfiction and fan art, that focus on specific kinks. Taking place during the month of October.” so basically its just 31 days of smut

what prompts are you using? - these, a prompt list created by myself

can i use your prompt list for my own kinktober event? - sure thing, go for it! you can credit, or not, i don’t mind either way

what does X prompt even mean? - a lot of the prompts this year aren’t technically kinks, they’re just... prompts. it was more fun for me that way. i recommend using google for ones that seem foreign, but there will be definitions or explanations in the note on the fic for those that need them

what characters are you including? - the character list isn’t being posted, characters will be revealed as the scenarios are posted. you know, to add some suspense

is X character included? - if the character you’re wondering about is quite popular, then yea, probably. if not, then, who knows. many people have asked about specific characters, and sometimes i answer, sometimes i don’t. i like keeping things a surprise, so i tend not to answer, but sometimes i like to throw yall a treat and let you know who’s in once the event starts, i won’t be answering any of those questions. just wait and see!

why didn’t you include X character? - there are only 31 days of october, but there are more than 31 characters in haikyuu. because of that, some characters had to be left out. there was nothing i could do to change that. because of that issue, i held a kinktober roster poll a few months back, and the characters who received the most votes were picked first. after that, i chose those who i wanted to include. if you want to see a kinky scenario for someone who isn’t included, i do take requests after kinktober ends, so visit my ask box!

what time are scenarios going to be posted? - i’ll have posts scheduled (hopefully) most days, probably around 3 pm EST. for those that aren’t scheduled, honestly who knows the time i’ll post them (if they aren’t scheduled that means they aren’t finished yet.) i work a couple days a week, so that throws a wrench into times i can post - i really just recommend turning on my post notifications and being patient. please don’t ask when or if i’m posting it - even if they’re not on time, they’ll be up, don’t worry

isn’t this a bit too much smut? yep

i thought i’d include some questions i received on the kinktober poll i put out a few months back, just to spice things up and answer some concerns more directly:

- perhaps go a little further or explore each concept more? your writing is beautiful but for a lot of the fics i felt a tad underwhelmed. Or maybe i'm just really thirsty and wanted more smut lmao

- Maybe make them a little longer (?). I know it’s a lot of work. I could never do what you do so I’m not trying to demand more of you. So please don’t take it that way. I just enjoy longer reads in general. Idk please don’t be offended. I love your work so much.

- I would like it if scenarios were a lil longer but if that’s not possible that’s completely okay! That’s just me being picky bc I rlly don’t have any criticisms

- this was by far the most common comment i received (i only showed three here but there were More.) to be honest, i think i could have done a better job at wrapping up the fics last year. i think the issue was that a lot of them just ended, because i didn’t have the time or energy or ideas to end them well, and that tends to leave the reader thirsty for more unfortunately, the idea of making each fic longer in a way that adds more smut rather than just wrapping it up nicely at a good enough spot is nearly impossible because of just how much work that adds. it’s a lot less efficient to add 1k words to a fic that needs to be posted the next day, when i haven’t even started the fic that’s going up the next week yall are thirsty. there are 31 days of smut and yall still want them to be longer. THIRSTY!!!!! however there are much longer fics this year, so hopefully i can feed you all well :p

Umm there were a couple that had a one-sided kink and the other partner never got pleasured. Whether it was the reader or the character. Like the Tendō one or the Futakuchi one. Favs of mine, but they ended with the implication that more would happen but we didn’t get to see it. And I know it’s not part of the kink, but it’s be cool to include how it plays out from there if you could cos I always love seeing both sides pleased! Sorry if that’s weird

- yeah, that was kind of the point of a few of the kinks i featured last year, and again i think it’s just a matter of ending those stories better. i really hate when fics end in implications for more, it honestly is the lazy way out of a fic, but sometimes as a writer who’s posting a lot at once, i have to take the lazy way and accept that the fic could’ve been better if i had the time or energy or skill for it. i don’t like the idea of kinktober being quantity over quality, but there are rare times where i just have to make that exception in order to succeed with the event. what can ya do!

tbh i wasn't really a fan on semi's! it was great to read when it came out but it was kinda weird to reread when it wasn't halloween

- all i’ll say is i probably should’ve taken this feedback into consideration before writing semi’s fic this year ... anyway

Probably just more research on the said kink(s) you’ll write.

- not sure which fics or kinks this was in reference to, but yeah you’re right i could’ve done more research for a few of them. but sometimes mistakes happen, like with oikawa’s when i got two kinks confused and had to change his prompt last minute, and things slip through the cracks of my small brain. and as much as i can research, i’ll still never know everything about every kink i write about. i think most of last year’s fics captured their kinks well enough, though!

Make some more of the stories, one-shots, type things gender neutral if possible

- i always try my best! it can be tricky with smut but it can be done, and i do always try. i’m wondering if it would be okay or helpful for some to label some fics that don’t include pronouns/gendered language but have a “fem presenting” reader as “afab reader,” mainly because it’s tricky to write smut without mentioning body parts, however avoiding gendered language when writing is much easier. if it would be better than labeling those it applies to as “fem reader” then i would much rather go with that to make more of my fics accessible to more people! i’m not sure if that’d be helpful or correct, so please feel free to give me feedback on this if you have any insight and correct me if this wouldn’t be cool!

please be patient with me when it comes to answering asks and posting these scenarios. i’m kinda pretty stressed about failing, and i’m trying my hardest - even though i started writing these in july, it still feels like there’s not enough time to prepare.

thank you for giving me a reason to even have events like these. i love you all, dear friends, and i appreciate every bit of support you offer me. thank you so much for your excitement, the kind words you’ve left in my ask box and on the kinktober poll, and for supporting my writing at all. i hope you’ll all enjoy this next month of smut!

#kinktober 2020 #not family friendly #posting this now so i can go ahead and add the link to scheduled posts #why am i nervous to post this lmao

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yet-another-fan-girl9 · 4 years

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Inhuman (3)

Summary: All beings in the universe have a soulmate except for Midgardians. People can hear their soulmate in their heads. For almost five hundred and fifty years, Loki believed that he had no soulmate until 1513 when a Midgardian princess was born. Will fate be kind to them or will the universe tear them apart?

Warnings: violence, language, hella historical inaccuracies (I tried to do research but then got lazy), maybe some AOS season 2 spoilers(?)

Word Count: ~3800

A/N: My HS German teacher would be so disappointed to discover I used Google Translate. I also actually researched WWII med kits for this.

[New York, New York, March 2024]

You sat at your kitchen counter and admired the ruby ring on your finger. Max had gotten half of what he had pillaged from Anderson’s home, you had even let him have first choice. He also got a third of the million dollars you had earned for the death of Morano. You had also given Izzy one fourth of the million for her troubles.

“What’s next?” Max asked from your couch.

“Nothing.” You stood up and joined your friend on the couches.

“Bitch, what are you saying?” He raised an eyebrow at you. Today’s theme was gold. When he had walked into your apartment, he held up one manicured nail as a warning before you could say anything. “We just had a great haul and you wanna stop before we really get the ball rolling?”

“The Avengers got involved,” you pointed out. “I am not dealing with them.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“They’re heroes set on ridding the world of evil and we literally fucking kill people for a living.”

“Uh-huh. Are you sure you’re not just avoiding someone?” Max laughed.

“I’m sure,” you said with a glare but Max only laughed harder. “What I’m avoiding— Max, shut up. What I’m fucking avoiding is being thrown in jail or even death. You just want to be caught so that you can shoot your shot with a supersoldier.”

“Or the God of Thunder.” He gasped and looked at you with wide eyes. “What if we could be in-laws!” You rolled your eyes and suppressed a smirk. “Hmm. Imagine being dicked down by a god. Well, I doubt you have to imagine.”

“Shut.” You picked up a pillow. “The.” You smacked Max. “Fuck.” Smack! “Up.” Smack!

“How was it? Tell me everything.” He escaped to the loveseat and composed himself.

“Get your fuckin’ head out of the gutter, Max. It was back in the 1500s and I was a princess and princesses don’t just go around getting ‘dicked down’ as you so nicely put it.”

“Damn, sometimes I forget that you were literally the Queen of fucking England.” He cocked his head. “Are you sure you don’t want to see Loki again? From what you told me it sounded like you really loved him and he loved you.”

“I-I never said it, though.” It was true. You loved Loki. You still love Loki. Did he love you too? You were soulmates and you were made for each other, but it had been four hundred and eight-six shitty years since he had last seen you. “Not to mention the awkward situation of having to explain why I’m still alive.”

“Um, that’s easy,” Max said. “It’s just, ‘Oh, Loki,’” he mimicked your voice. “‘It’s me, (Y/N), the one and only love of your life. Surprise! I’m still alive.’”

“That’s not how I sound.” But you couldn’t hide your grin.

“‘I am an Inhuman whose power is to look pretty and live forever.’”

“Your power is very obviously not mimicry.”

“See? Easy,” Max smirked. “I give you full permission to plagiarize my speech.”

“Nuh uh. It’s not plagiarism if I pay you to write my speeches.”

“Honey, what speeches are you making?”

Before you could respond, your phone started ringing. Hardly anyone called you. Could it be the Avengers? It couldn’t be, no matter how good Stark’s AI was. Max was also giving your phone a strange look. Your curiosity got the best of you and you answered.

“Hello?”

“(Y/N)? Oh, my god. Listen I know you said only to call if it’s an emergency, but it’s an emergency,” the person on the other side spoke quickly.

“Wait, wait. Arthur, is that you?” Arthur was your man up in Michigan with the ability to generate light.

“Yes, it’s Arthur. I’m calling because the Avengers showed up at my last job. I barely managed to get a picture and get out. I might have blinded the Scarlet Witch!”

“She’ll be okay. Hey, man. How about you lay low for a while. Spread the word for others to do the same.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll do that.”

“Stay safe, Arthur,” you parted.

“What happened?” Max asked.

You told him everything. “We have a technokeniser nearby, don't we?”

🌹

You looked at yourself in the mirror, the night time New York skyline twinkling behind you. You wore nothing but your undergarments, but your black stealth suit was waiting for you on your bed. Your skin was smooth and unblemished thanks to your accelerated cell healing. Everything was perfect except for the single, one-inch scar directly above your left knee.

Apparently, vibranium was your weakness. It didn’t bother you because everyone had to have a weakness. Thankfully, it was a rare metal on Earth. Your cells repaired themselves slowly like a normal human when it came to injuries dealt with vibranium. You had learned that the hard way.

[Austria 1944]

You were in central Austria for two weeks while things back in New York calmed down. It turned out that the man you had strangled three days ago was a low ranking member of the local mafia. Because the man wasn’t that important, they would, hopefully, move on quickly and you could safely resume your contract killings.

It was a beautiful place, with many trees that were changing with the season and beautiful lush mountains. Just a few days after you had arrived, Captain America and the Howling Commandos rolled into town. People cheered and it almost felt like a parade.

You had heard of them of course, going around Europe dismantling the Nazi organization called Hydra. You walked through town, dress swishing around your calves and hair pinned in the latest style. You looked like the stereotypical rich American girl. Your favorite heels clicked along the cobblestone road as you windowshopped.

“Guten Tag Fräulein,” a young man winked at you as he leaned against a wall. “Du siehst wunderschön aus, aber du würdest noch besser aussehen wenn—”

His words stopped when your fist slammed into his face, your ring cutting his cheek. You were not in the fucking mood to be catcalled today. You were never in the mood to be catcalled.

“Du verdienst das,” another male voice said behind you.

You turned around and your eyes widened when you saw one of the Howling Commandos standing there. More specifically, James Buchanan Barnes, Captain America’s best friend from Brooklyn.

“Bist du in Ord-Ordnung?” he stumbled over the word.

“I didn’t know you could speak German,” you smirked and continued your stroll through town. “Not the best at it, though.”

“Oh, you’re American!” He fell into step next to you. From the twenty-some years you had lived in New York growing your business, you had lost your accent.

“I suppose,” you said vaguely.

“We kinda need to know some German if we’re going to be intercepting Nazi communications,” he explained and rubbed the back of his head. “They usually don’t ask if everyone’s alright, so I don’t really know the phrase.”

“Bist du in Ordnung?”

“Bist du in Ordung?” he tried and you chuckled.

“Ord-nung,” you drew out the syllables.

“Ordnung.”

“Bist du in Ordnung?”

“That’s better,” you smiled. “You’ll be sweeping girls off their feet with your German in no time Sergent.”

“This may be a bit forward,” he said slowly and you raised your eyebrows. “But… Do you want to see the shield? Considering you’re American and all that. Girls always want to see Captain America’s shield.”

“Bold of you to assume I’m like them.” You brought a finger up to your chin and pretended to think. “But my answer is yes. I would like to see the shield.”

He grinned and led you to the edge of the forest. You held nothing against forests, but they always reminded you of Loki. They reminded you of the days long ago when he actually was there for you. When he cared about you. When you hesitated before going under the cover of trees, Barnes gave you a strange look.

“Just a bit suspicious,” you lied. “Leadin’ a sweet little dame like me into a mysterious forest mere minutes after you met me?”

“Based on what I saw back there, you can handle yourself. If anythin’, I’m worried ‘bout myself. The rest of the Commandos are within shouting distance so don’t you try anything,” he said with a laugh.

You joined in and you two walked deeper into the forest. Sure enough, the sounds of boisterous laughter and cheers reached your ears. Captain America and the Howling Commandos sat around a small clearing. When you said ‘small clearing’ you meant small. Like a circle with a three-meter radius small.

“Who do you have there, Buck?” a tall blond asked. It took you a moment to realize that he was Captain America. You almost didn’t recognize him without his helmet.

“Fellas, this is… Do I know your name?” The Howling Commandos lived up to their names and began to howl with laughter.

“You can call me (Y/N),” you laughed. “James saw me punch a guy and invited me to check out Captain America’s shield.”

“What’s a nice American dame doin’ all the way in Austria?” a man with a prominent mustache asked. Dum Dum Dougan.

“Hiding.”

“So you wanted to see the shield?” Jim Morita asked.

“That would be nice.” A look passed around the group. “I’m not going to steal it,” you scoffed. “Even if that was my intention, I’m wearing heels.” Another look went around.

“Be careful,” the Captain handed the red, white, and blue shield to you. “Buck, can I talk to you?” He and Barnes walked away and with your enhanced hearing, you briefly heard, “-can’t just bring over any dame…”

You smirked and examined the shield. Vibranium, the metal was called. It was strange how light it actually was. Once you finished, you looked up at the remaining Commandos who were staring at you.

“Do you know any tricks?”

Gabe Jones eagerly raised his hand and you passed him the shield. The other men quickly scrambled away. Jones threw the shield like a frisbee and it rebounded off of a tree with surprising speed, the dark-skinned man barely caught it.

“That was pretty good, eh?” he asked the group.

“Au moins, cela n'a touché personne cette fois,” Jacques Dernier spoke in quick French. At least you didn’t hit anyone this time. Jones groaned and you hid your smirk.

“I have a trick,” James Montgomery Falsworth said.

He took the shield from Jones and everyone took another step backward. Falsworth noticed this and rolled his eyes. He roughly threw the shield in the air with a flick of his wrist that gave it a spin. You guessed he wanted it to bounce back to him, but the shield hit a rock and veered off course.

Instead of returning to Falsworth’s hand, it flew at you. The vibranium hit your left leg above your knee through your dress. How sharp was the shield because it actually cut your leg. You could already see some blood seep into the dress.

“Oh fuck! I mean gosh darn it!” Dougan cried and helped you stay on your feet.

“I didn’t— I’m so sorry,” Falsworth stuttered in his British accent. “Are you okay?”

If only he knew that he had hit one of his former Queens. The thought made you laugh through the stinging pain in your leg. You shifted your weight onto your right leg.

“I’m fine,” you said in between short bursts of giggles. It wasn’t that funny. Anyways, the wound would heal soon.

“What happened?” Captain America and Barnes returned to the group.

“Uh—”

“Er—”

“Um—”

“The shield hit my leg,” you said and motioned to the small bit of blood on your dress. “I’m fine though.”

“We were only gone for two minutes.” The Captain looked at the Commandos.

“They just wanted to show off for a pretty dame,” Barnes winked at you.

“I told you guys to be careful,” the Captain sighed. “Come with me, ma’am, and I can help you clean up.”

Small wounds like these would usually be healed by now so you were about to tell him that you can handle it yourself but you could still feel the sting of the cut. You nodded and accepted his invitation. You walked over to him and he put an arm around you to help you support your weight.

He brought you to a house on the edge of the forest. Rows of cots covered the ground. A table with a map stood in the back. Men’s clothes and trinkets laid around the room. The Captain led you to one cot and pulled out a small first aid kit from underneath.

You rolled your skirt up just until the wound was visible. It was about two and a half centimeters long, but it was a bit deeper than you expected. The Captain pulled out a small tin box that read ‘Iodine Swabs.’ He removed one of the swabs and began to clean around your wound.

“I don’t know how this could have happened,” he said. You realized he was trying to avoid touching you.

“You can touch me. I don’t mind.” He nodded and the process went faster. “And don’t worry about the shield.”

“It shouldn’t be able to cut skin like this.” He moved onto the hydrogen peroxide and dampened a cotton pad with the solution.

“It was spinning. Maybe that had something to do with it?” Another question, a more important question was why weren’t you healed yet?

“Maybe.” Then he began to profusely apologize when you hissed the moment the hydrogen peroxide touched your wound. “Sorry, ma’am.”

“It’s alright, Captain,” you laugh lightly. “And just call me (Y/N).”

“Alright, (Y/N).” He wrapped your injury and gave you a kind smile. “Then you can call me Steve.”

“First name basis with Captain America, huh?”

🌹

Your phone read 2:47 as your silver Porsche 911 rolled to a silent stop with its headlights off. The Avengers compound was about a mile up the road. Liam, with his technokinesis, managed to get you this close, but now you had to leave the safety of the car. You crept through the woods, Max and Liam close behind you.

Liam just wore black jeans and a black leather jacket. He also had a black bandana around his head, again, courtesy of Max. Max also wore a similar leather jacket and bandana as well as black leather pants and a cape. He had shown you his Captain America shirt underneath the jacket, you know, ‘just in case.’ You were in a fucking normal skintight stealth suit.

“What if we get lost?” Liam whispered.

“We won’t,” you said. There was a force pulling you in the right direction. You could feel the familiar aura Loki’s presence grow stronger as you neared the compound. Your heart was racing, but it wasn��t because of the current mission. Could he feel you too?

Fifteen minutes later, the Avengers compound came into view. Fortunately, Liam didn’t need a computer to do his work. Stark was so fucking tech savvy that all Liam needed was to get inside. He didn’t need any help to do that either, easily disabling the electronic locks. Honestly, you and Max were just there for protection. Max took watch outside while you stayed with Liam inside.

“You know what to do?” you asked and kept your eyes fixed on the dark hallway.

“Yeah,” he placed his hand on the wall and closed his eyes. Glowing blue lines that resembled a circuit board grew from his hand. “First delete everything they have on us. Then, if there’s time, scramble everything else.”

“How long is it going to take?”

“Not too long. Maybe ten to fifteen minutes?”

This was the closest you’ve been to Loki since 2012. Maybe the closest you’ve been to him since 1538. What was he doing right now? Was he sleeping? Would your presence wake him up? If you could just…

“Where are you going?” Liam’s words shook you out of your head.

Where were you going? To your soulmate, probably. You were five feet away from where you stood before your mind was consumed by the thought of Loki.

The distraction had consequences when Max’s shout of surprise made you look back just in time to see your friend doge a blast from Iron Man. A small sound from the end of the hall caused you to whirl back around. You ducked, barely missing being decapitated by Captain America’s shield and you knew you wouldn’t heal from that.

“Fuck.” You pulled out a gun as the shield returned to its owner. “How much time do you need?” You fired twice down the hall and saw two sets of sparks where the bullets met the vibranium shield. Your eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness and saw your opponent.

“Just give me two minutes.”

Liam opened his eyes and clenched his fist at the flying billionaire outside. The Iron Man suit’s eyes dimmed and it fell to the ground. That left Max to deal with the Black Widow who was doing well on Max’s ice-like surface.

You went to meet the Captain in the dim hallway. You landed a quick hit on him before he could react. Instead of raising his shield, he pushed it into your chest, shoving you back. He moved forward and you dodged his punch. You went to punch Steve’s head again and this time he raised his shield. When he did, you used your other hand to punch him in the stomach. Hard. He bent over slightly and you took the opportunity to sweep his feet out from under him. You noticed something…

Shit, was Loki getting closer? You could feel the link grow stronger.

Steve used his shield to sweep your feet out from under you this time. You landed on your back which knocked the breath out of you. To recover, you took a deep breath while Steve pinned you to the ground. He was about to hit your face but you managed to catch his fist. Using his momentum, you forced his fist down to the side of your face, throwing him off balance. You flipped him over and now you were on top.

“Ma’am, we can work this out,” he said. Captain America, always the diplomat.

“I thought we were on a first name basis, Steve,” you smirked and you could pinpoint the moment realization set in. Using his distracted state, you grabbed his shield and slammed it into the side of his head, effectively knocking him out.

“We’re good to go,” Liam called. Just in time because Loki was definitely coming.

You stood up and took an involuntary step in the wrong direction. In the direction Loki was. Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck. Come on, (Y/N). Go the other way. Finally, your body listened to you and you ran out the doors.

“You deleted the security footage of tonight too, right?” you asked Liam as you ran.

“Yes, I got that too.”

Max saw the two of you and joined you, leaving the Black Widow on the unnaturally smooth grass. You passed the Iron Man suit that was laying on its back. Wait, was the Stark asshole still in there? Yes, you could hear faint complaining coming from the suit.

You felt the ground under you change to feel springier like a track, no doubt Max’s doing. The three of you made it back to the car within seven minutes, all of you out of breath with you less so than the two men.

You started your car and sped down the road. Max and Liam collapsed in the back.

“Man, that was awesome what you did to Iron Man,” Max laughed.

“Nah, you were great against the Black Widow. Not everyone gets away with just a black eye and cut lip.”

“And bruised ribs and missing a cape.”

The two men laughed in the backseat as the adrenaline wore off but your tight grip on the steering wheel didn’t relax until the feeling of Loki was gone.

🌹

Bucky, Sam, Wanda, Thor, and Brunnhilde were immediately called to the conference rooms when they returned from Michigan. Steve quickly found Bucky by the hanger. The metal armed supersoldier noticed that his blond friend was in uniform and had a couple faint bruises on his face.

“What the fuck happ—”

“Do you remember being in Austria in 1944?” Steve cut him off.

“Those were pretty busy years, pal. We were all over the fuckin’ place.”

“Do you remember a girl? You said she punched some Austrian guy in the face for catcalling her. You brought her to meet the Commandos and Falsworth hit her with my shield? Her name was (Y/N).”

“Um, yeah, I think I remember. She taught me some German.” Bucky raised an eyebrow at his friend. “Why are you askin’?”

“She was here and it was like she hadn’t aged a day,” Steve said and gauged his friend’s reaction. “She was actually the one to…” he gestured at his bruised face.

“So what actually happened?” They walked into the conference room.

“Short story?” Tony asked. A blind man would have been able to tell that the billionaire was furious. “Three fucking people broke into the fucking compound and fucking deleted the files I had created for the fucking white rose assassins case.” He slammed his fist on the table each time he swore.

“What do we have?” Sam asked. “‘Cause we got nothin’ from Michigan.”

“Yeah.” Wanda put her head on the table. “Just blinded.”

“Three people,” Steve repeated. “Two men and one woman, all enhanced. against me, Nat, and Tony. Clint is still benched.”

“Where were you, brother?” Thor looked at Loki.

“I was distracted about something else,” he stated

Loki thought about what had happened during the attack. He had sensed her. But that was impossible, wasn’t it? Something had been trying to pull him somewhere. When he finally gave in, the feeling had led him to find an unconscious Captain and Stark trapped in his own suit. The tugging had faded then and the attackers were nowhere to be found.

“The woman,” Steve continued. “I think she was the same one from the cafe.”

“She has to be at the head of this thing,” Nat said.

Loki had thought the woman in the video had reminded him of (Y/N).

“I met her before.” Everyone looked at Steve.

“We both did,” Bucky added. “In Austria back during the war.”

“And she hasn’t aged a day. She referenced something she said when we met. I know it was her. I never forget anything.”

The God of Mischief’s heart missed a beat. Was it possible for the woman to be older than they thought? All signs were pointing at (Y/N). The woman’s familiarity. The strange tugging. The long life.

“What does this mean?” Clint asked.

“We don’t know.”

Tags: @kaithehero @liliannyah @andreasworlsboring101 @oatballsoffury @aberrant-annie @simplybree @adalina-perez @emage-king @yandereforyou @notactiveonmain @tvdplusriverdale

#marvel #mcu #loki x reader #loki x soulmate reader #loki #loki odinson #ocs #inhuman #steve rogers #bucky barnes #captain america #winter soldier #iron man #tony stark #black widow #natasha romanoff

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itriedandimtired · 4 years

Text

Birthday

a/n: GUESS WHOSE BIRTHDAY IT IS– I've had this in my draft since March, and the moment it became May I was like- “why don't I publish this on his birthday?”, so here we are! Happy Birthday Roman Sanders 😔❤✨ also thank you so much to @palette6 (is that the url? They're deactivated I can't tag them :( ) for helping me with parts of whatever this is! :D

AU: Human!AU

Genre: Hurt/comfort

WARNINGS: toxic mother, feeling bad, hint of s*x joke, a little crying as well. it will be fluff by the end tho, oh also a LOT of time skips, bad writing because I'm too lazy to edit-

_____________

Roman jolted up on his bed.

School.

Roman thought, he gets up quickly turning to his door. That's when he stops for a second, recalling the fact he won't be going to school today. Of course, Patton was disappointed, but that was Roman's parents decision.

His parents insisted on visiting his brother, Remus. Roman had just plan to go out with Patton today, but guess his birthday can't go as well as he wishes.

Birthday.

‘One year closer to death’, as Virgil would say.

Roman sigh as he flops back onto his bed. He glance at his bags those he had packed up last night.

He will need to get ready soon.

_____(beep boop time skoop)_____

Roman dried himself up as soon as he finished taking bath. Usual morning, usual routine.

He soon changes into his outing outfit; which includes a pastel red sweater, skinny jeans, quarter white socks and his slip-on shoes.

Ding!

His phone lights up from the notifications.

Space nerd 🌌: Happy birthday, Roman.

Padre 🐶❤: HAPPY BIRTHDAY ROMAN!! 💖💗💓💕

Emo nightmare 🕷: yo princey, happy birthday lmao

Okay, that made Roman smiled. God, he loves his friends so much.

He send replies to them, simple ones as his mother already called for him.

Roman shuts his phone then slips it into his pocket as he walks over to his bags, picking them up and walks outside his house in a fast pace.

He placed his bags inside the car, was ready to take a seat-

“You're not going to help your father? Really? ”

Those words from his mother hurts. He takes a deep breathe as he makes his way to his father and helps with what he could. He could tell this will be a tiring day, though anything barely starts.

_____(time skip brought to you by my love for Roman)_____

It was half-way through the journey when Roman had his earbuds on.

“Laying down my pride, I need to tell you how much I need you now.”

He leans against his window as he lets his mind drift off to the song. He loves the song, it reminds him of the time back then when he was mean to others, specifically Virgil.

He really wants to apologize, he really does. He just doesn't know how to. He just-

“ROMAN!”

He flinched at the call, quickly pulling off one of his earbuds as he stares at his mother. “Ye- yes?” He stuttered out.

“Jesus Christ, you're always with your earbuds! What are you even listening to?”

“I was listening to a song-”

“Well, does it have anything to do with your education?”

“No-”

“Then it's not worth it!”

Roman chew on his lower lips, he hates this. He doesn't like it when his mother keeps yelling at him for whatever interest he has.

“Roman, you're falling behind from your friends already. Quit disappointing me.”

Roman only nods at that, he only nods at every single words his mother yelled.

“How do you want it? How do I say it? How do I let you know that I'm sorry? ” the song played.

What a perfect timing.

_____(another time skip I'm so sorry-)_____

“Roman, pass me the tissue.”

Roman woke up from his sleep, barely awake. He passes his mother the tissue box – that's what she wanted, right? – weakly, haven't gaining his energy yet.

He swear he felt the tissue box was lift up, he swear someone had taken the tissue box from his hand. So why had it fallen when he let it go?

“Roman! God, can't you do a single thing right?!” his mother started yelling.

Roman is fully awake now, shrinking himself. He glance out of the window as his mother is still yelling, noticing how they're in front of the hotel they'll be staying at.

Only God knows how grateful he is for that.

Soon, but not soon enough, his mother stopped yelling. “Whatever, just go help your father with the bags.” Roman nods, getting out of the car to his father.

“Here, bring these. I'll bring the others.” His father said as he hands the younger male a bunch of bags. Roman takes them carefully, balancing himself and he makes his way to the hotel's main door.

“Hey, son?”

Roman stops, turning to his father.

“Happy birthday,” his father smiled.

Roman froze, before he returns the smile and whispers a soft “thank you”.

_____(last time skip I swear-)_____

Roman lies on the bed as he stares at the ceiling. He doesn't share the same room with his parents, which he thinks is a very good idea. Not only can he avoid his mother, but he could gives his parents some space if they're into.. something.

Roman chuckled at the thought, Remus had rub off on him. Then he remembered what happened that day. It's not that he's not used to is, because he is. He doesn't even know why his heart broke so much that day whenever his mother yells at him.

Could it be because it's his birthday? He doesn't know either. He never really feels like anyone care, so why is today any different? Why is his heart so sensitive specifically that day? Why are his emotions so messed up? Why-

Then he broke down. Roman burst into tears, he doesn't stop for quite a while. He doesn't know how long has he been crying, but it sure as hell feels really long.

His phone's ringing is what stopped his crying. He looks at his phone, realizing it was his friends who are calling him, and he's not in the mood for that. So he waits, until the ringing stops.

And when it does, he sighs of relief. The notification, however, changed his mind.

Space Nerd 🌌: Roman, I believe you do not want to upset Patton. I suggest you answer the phone next time.

Emo Nightmare 🕷: Dude, answer ur phone tf

Padre 🐶❤: answer the phone plsss :(

Roman stares at his phone, if Logan and Virgil agree on a thing; he knows for a fact that he should be doing whatever that is. But doesn't mean he can't disagree. Patton saying it, however–

Whatever, it was too late for that anyway.

Riiiingggg!

Or not. He sprinted to the bathroom, splashing water to his face. He messily wipes the water away before he answer the phone.

“Roman!!” Patton speaks happily, as Virgil only shows his ceiling leaving Logan to formally greet Roman.

“Hey guys! What's up?” Roman greets through the phone, Virgil then lifts up his phone revealing his eyes and eyeshadows under them. “What's up? It's your birthday, duh!” Virgil says.

“Yep! Oh, we prepared something!” Patton informed, getting up from the chair he was sitting on and sprinted to somewhere else. Roman is shocked, to say the least. This is his first birthday to celebrate with his friends, even if it's through the phone. He clearly hadn't expected anything more than a “Happy Birthday”.

However, here he is; laying on a hotel bed while he's face timing his friends, confused to why had his friends prepared something for his birthday.

Then Patton is back, with a paper in his hands. “We were planning to give it to you today, but you didn't come to school. But that's alright! I will read it out to you, alright?” Patton says cheerfully.

“Alright??” Roman answers- well, more like questioning.

“I will start with mine first! May I?”

“Of course, Patton. Go ahead.” Logan speaks, for the first time since his greet.

Patton takes a deep breath, before he starts reading the paper.

“Hola, Roman!” Roman quickly recognized the usage of Spanish, and he must admit; he's impressed that his friends even remember that he could speaks in Spanish. “If you're reading this – well more like listening now – happy birthday kiddo! I know you're going through some stuff, especially with your self-esteem–” Roman quickly teared up at the words “–but you stayed strong, and that honestly impressed me. I've always said this but, I'll always be here for you. You don't have to be afraid, because I'll fight for you just like how you Fight For Me.” Roman chuckled at the Heathers reference as he rubs his watery eyes. “Thank you, Puffball,” Roman muttered, luckily loud enough for the others to hear.

“You are very welcome! Logan, do you want to read yours by your own?” Patton asks directly at the logical male among the four. “That would be,, nice, Patton. Ahem- Roman, I'd like to wish you a happy birthday.”

It was quiet for a while, to the point Roman questioned if Logan is done. That was, until Logan speaks again.

“I also would like to let you know, you might as well be one of the greatest things that's ever happened to me. Having you as my best friend is an honor, admittedly. Though you could be loud and obnoxious at times, you still stick with me until now. I always thought friends will never be my main priority but, you proved me wrong–” Logan takes a deep breath “–I started my journey alone, until you came along. From that, the four of us got along. I am never great with emotions, so I hope you get what I mean.”

Roman was stunned, he never thought Logan out of all people would be the one who said such a thing.

“What I'm trying to say is, thank you Roman. For everything you've sacrificed, though it might looks silly, I know it means a lot to you.” Logan spoken again, which froze Roman even more. The tears he had wipe away are just coming back again threatening to fall off his eyes.

“Virgil? Would you like to read it by yourself or-”

“God- please read it for me, I don't think I have the courage.”

“Certainly,” Logan flips the paper he was holding. “Oh- I don't think me reading this would be a great option, so uh- Patton, if you'd like?” Logan phrased unsurely.

“Of course!” Patton flips his own paper before reading Virgil's letter.

“Yo, Princey. Happy birthday. So uh, y'know I'm not good with expressing feelings with words and cliches bs like this–” Patton had look confused when he reads the word ‘bs’, however let it go “–but just to let you know, I appreciate your efforts. I know you've been trying to improve yourself and trying to be less mean to me, and you're doing great. Yeah, you were a jerk and all but hey, past is the past and let's get over it. I know you feel guilty, and you're allowed to. But just know, you don't have to. And oh, another thing;” Patton smiled excitedly, before he reads out the last sentence.

“Thank you for willing to accept me, and now I'd do the same to you.”

Roman was crying, at that point. Sure, he was crying as well before they were video chatting but this time.

This time, he feels happy. He feels loved, accepted and content.

Breathlessly, he whispered “Thank you so much, for everything.”

#roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #platonic lamp #crying #ts remus #roman angst #like- at the start- that's it. only a little #hurt/comfort #lamp hurt/comfort #toxic mother tw #toxic mother #toxic parent #toxic parent tw

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bastillewolf · 4 years

Text

Midnight In Sheffield (I)

Pairing: Alex Turner/Reader

Summary: When a soon-to-be-wedded insomniac author heads back home to visit her parents, she comes across the likes of a mysterious musician on her sleepless escapade in the AM.

Notes: Not sure if this is going to work out, but I’ve made the creative decision to write a series of Alex Turner fanfics, going down each album and all most likely lightly based off movies. Like the Grand Tranquility Hotel from the Grand Budapest Hotel, this one is based off Midnight In Paris. No need to have seen either movies to read these fics. It won’t take place around the same time, as Sheffield has been through some stuff in the early 1900s. I will keep it all a bit old-school themed, but just won’t name a specific era, so you can take your own spin on it. I’m not familiar with Sheffield at all, never been there, so I’ll keep locations vague and add the Paris theme a bit in there. Hope you tag along for the ride, and let’s have one for the road.

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list!

Chapter I - AM

“I don’t see how this could be more important to you than meeting my parents,” she grumbled, her voice muffled by the pillow she had planted her face in. The sheets of the bed were soft and had a pristine white colour, much to her dismay. The entire hotel room was much too extravagant to her liking, but it was Mark who insisted on paying extra to make their stay most comfortable.

“Please don’t be difficult now, sweetheart,” her fiancée replied, as he set one of his neatly folded trousers in the dresser on the shelf next to where his ironed shirts hung. “You know how much it means to me to be able to see James and Rachel again after all these years. I’m sure your parents will understand. If not, I’ll beg for their forgiveness.” He dramatically bent down to his knee, as if to gallantly portray his apology, making her roll her eyes.

“That wouldn’t be the first thing you’d have to apologize for. First of all, you’re going to have to tell my dad why you didn’t ask for his permission to marry me-“

“You already said yes!”

She shot him a look. “And secondly, you’re going to have to explain to my mum why you didn’t want to stay at their home. I think she would’ve been very happy to play hostess to the man who’s going to marry her daughter in a few.”

He crawled on top of the bed, his curly brown hair hanging over his face as he hovered above her and kissed her forehead. “I’ll be sure to make up for it. Now, please get changed. We’re having lunch.”

“Please don’t tell me it’s going to be at that ritzy restaurant we went to last time. I’m still not over the way that waiter felt the need to explain everything to me like a five-year-old whilst pointing everything out with his little finger.”

“Well, you can’t speak French, darling. I think he tried his best at explaining the menu to you.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Just, please stop drooling on the pillow and put on something nice. For me?”

Seeing the convincing puppy look on his face, she gave in with a sigh and a very loud slurping noise as she lifted her head from the pillow, making Mark huff.

Meeting with James and Rachel wasn’t the worst thing in the world, because she didn’t see them very often and they were overall nice people. At least, if you didn’t count every time James tried to be the smartass of the group by giving some random fact about anything and everything they came across, or if you ignored the way Rachel was evidently very flirty and touchy with Mark, or if you turned your head away every time the couple made those wretched kissing noises as they shared what should be an intimate moment.

What Mark had with Rachel was something she could never come between, something she also shared with many good friends of her own. They were the type who would always share that bond with you, no matter how long you hadn’t seen each other, and she could only be happy that Mark still had friends like that.

His work as a lawyer didn’t allow for him to make all that many mates, as most try to stab him in the back just to be able to get that promotion they wanted. He’d often come home with his head hung low after days like that, when loneliness took over the pride he had of his usually exhilarating job.

And thus, as she watched Rachel hug him extra tight, she kept her mouth shut. It was for the best, and it was only one afternoon she had to endure.

But she vowed to herself to not let it happen at her wedding. That was her day. Fuck Mark and fuck Rachel. She wasn’t going to be left alone dancing with James, who seemed to be known for having two left feet, by her own husband. But that was something she’d have to worry about in the future.

Her worries now were trying to translate a French menu without asking a waiter, deciding which fork to use, and refraining from telling James to shut up about the painting that hung behind him, of which he was giving an entirely unnecessarily intricate description.

“As you can see, the painter made sure the flag of the boat is standing diagonal to the man in the front, to make the artwork a treat for the eye with this interesting form of composition. It makes the scene all the more dramatic, wouldn’t you agree?”

Mark and Rachel hummed thoughtfully, but both were looking at the painting as if it was some Professor Layton puzzle they had yet to solve.

“What do you think?” James turned to her directly, catching her off guard. James usually wasn’t one to ask others for their opinion, so she could only guess it was an attempt to test her bare knowledge on the subject to make himself look like the smarter one.

“I think you said it all, James,” she decided to answer with, “I’m afraid I haven’t thought about art in that way since my classes in school. As of now, I have more important things to worry about than what the composition in a painting is like.”

It was low of her, she knew that, but someone needed to teach him a lesson.

“Ah,” James said, seemingly unfazed by her subtle insult, “Now that you mention it, how’s your book coming along?”

She sighed. Of course, he was going to play that card. She could’ve seen it coming.

Being a published writer of a few mediocre novels she’d written back in school, she was still in search for her new muse, and things were getting a bit desperate, to say the least. She had absolutely no idea what her next story was going to be about, finding everything in her life to be inexplicably boring and explicitly dull.

Not so much to say she wasn’t happy. No, she liked being with Mark. But she couldn’t say her life was a real adventure with him, or anyone for that matter. They lived in an apartment in the big city, where Mark had his day job and she her comfortable bed. He’d come home and she would’ve cooked – whatever attempt it was each time – and cleaned, and perhaps even written down a page or two only to never look at it again.

“Oh, you know. It’s getting there,” she lied, “Inspiration is lacking a bit these days, unfortunately.”

“I’ve always found inspiration to be a bit of a myth,” James said thoughtfully, “Why is it exactly that one particular thing that’s so inexplicable yet so necessary to create something? It seems a bit… I don’t know, like an excuse for some writers. I’ve heard many talk about it seriously, and many call it pure laziness. But then again, I wouldn’t really know much of the matter.”

There was the comeback.

She smiled tightly. “No, you wouldn’t. I can agree that some writers use it as an excuse to hide their laziness, as I find that a lot of characters write their own stories as soon as you sit down and start typing. However, inspiration is indeed something vague, and could be considered a writer’s virtue or downfall. It’s however you approach the subject, and however you try to deal with it or rationalize it as an artist.”

“You’re right, I shouldn’t have even mentioned it. I wouldn’t know much about it, since I’m only an art consultant, after all.” He threw his hands up degradingly.

Fucker.

“Oh, come on, let’s not be so childish. All of our work is equally as important, as long as we’re happy doing it,” Rachel intervened, before raising her glass, “Here’s a toast to inspiration and art!”

Though she was relieved the argument was over and the attention drawn away from her, she couldn’t help but feel that familiar itch from the downgrading undertone in Rachel’s voice. Call it jealousy if you might, but she wasn’t one to let something like that slip from her mind, however many years may pass.

“So, if I may be so bold to ask,” Rachel continued, and the writer had almost collected her guts to blatantly reply with a ‘no’ when the woman was already speaking again, “What are your plans after the wedding? Are you moving? Already thinking about having kids? No pressure, of course.” She laughed with a pitch so high it nearly shattered the wineglass she was bringing to her lips to pieces.

“Oh, she always gets a bit icky talking about having kids,” Mark chuckled, “But if it were up to her, we’d be moving to some remote village in the outskirts of France, living in a tiny apartment until we grow old and turn to dust.”

She shrugged at her fiancée, “Doesn’t sound all that bad to me.”

“That’s because you came up with it.”

“Don’t you want to be closer to your friends?” Rachel asked, “Why move to the middle of nowhere, when you have everything out here?”

“I don’t know. I guess because of the peace and quiet. A simple life, with the bare necessities.”

“I wouldn’t have protested if it wasn’t for my job,” Mark added, which was a blatant lie. She’d heard him cut off her dream many times over for many different reasons. “Unfortunately, my French isn’t good enough to be a lawyer, and certainly not in the outskirts somewhere.”

“I thought you barely spoke a word of French, anyway?” James asked her.

“I know, but I would learn it there. It would be a part of the adventure.”

He snorted, “I’m sorry darling, but adventure is for children. It’s time to grow out of that. Perhaps you should find something you like in a proper job.”

She’d prompted to walk back to the hotel, through the rain, as Mark, James and Rachel – mostly Mark – had tried to convince her to share a cab with them. But no way in hell would she spend another unnecessary moment with that couple, and Mark knew better than to follow her out, for she would only be walking too quickly for him, and he would have quietly trailed after her the whole way back.

So, when she finally reached the building, he allowed her to soak in the tub for a few hours before finally approaching her.

“He has a point, you know.”

The look she gave him was an evident warning, yet he still had the guts to continue. “I’m not saying you should stop writing. I know that’s your passion. But, I’m asking you to maybe find something that could come close to that in the meantime, at least until you find something to write about. And perhaps, after we get married-“ he kissed her wrinkly palm, “-we could afford ourselves a nice vacation cot somewhere in the outskirts of France, and we could visit it as often as we’d like.”

She pursed her lips, turning her eyes away from his pensively. “I’m not sure your job would allow that. Your vacation days would be limited, and my desires to go on a holiday always growing.”

He smiled gently. “I’m sure we could work it out after I get that promotion.”

She looked at him, her eyes slightly glossy. “I just don’t want to feel like I’m giving up.”

“You’re not giving up, sweetheart. You’re only taking measures to be able to do the things you like, and when things are going well you can set your priorities straight. It’s the better thing to do.”

Her mind might be relieved to hear this solution, but her gut remained ridden with unease.

“Mark? Are you coming?” she called out, her hand hovering over the doorknob of their room.

“I’ll be right after you!” she heard him say, “Work is phoning me, you go ahead. I’ll take the next cab.”

“Alright, but don’t be too long!”

They were supposed to meet with their parents that evening to share the big news, but after hugs were shared and multiple cups of tea were had, Mark still hadn’t shown. She was beginning to grow worried when he didn’t pick up his phone, and even went as far as to step outside to frantically see if the connection was better.

After eight missed calls, she finally reached him.

“Can you believe it?” she heard him slur, “I stepped into the same cab as James! We’re at the pub, you should come join!”

Hearing faint noises of protest from others on the other end of the line, she quickly grew more and more bothered. “Mark, we were supposed to see my parents tonight.”

“Oh, we can see them again tomorrow! I figured you needed some catching up to do.”

“You could’ve joined in on that catching up, as they’ve barely seen you three times over the past four years we’ve been together.”

“Please don’t be like that sweetheart, you know I adore your parents. In fact, I’ll come over right now if that’s what you-“

“No,” she quickly cut him off, not being able to stand the mental sight of her parents having to deal with her drunk fiancée. “You know what, have fun. I’ll stay at my parents’ for the night.”

“Sounds like fun! Call me-“

She’d hung up the phone before he could finish his sentence, and had dropped to her knees as she felt her bottom lip tremble. Not wanting to alert the neighbours, she quickly forced her numb legs to work again and strode in the direction of town, a walking route she usually took whenever she was upset when she was young. She sent a quick text to her mum, telling her she’d meet again with them tomorrow and explain what happened. She really couldn’t be bothered right now.

Tears streamed down her face at the thought that her feet were so unwilling to go back to face her parents, who she’d have to disappoint yet again with a disappearing soon-to-be son-in-law. It wasn’t that she couldn’t tell her parents about her problems, it was the thought of disappointing them once again with a mistake she was making.

A horrible, horrible mistake.

She was no longer aware of which way she’d gone, as all shops around her seemed unfamiliar, yet she could’ve sworn she hadn’t messed up any turns in her route.

Wherever she was though, was a beautifully quaint, with antique streetlights and a cobbled road. Shop windows held curtains made from white lace, and showed off vintage clothes and items for a real bargain.

Must be one of those vintage sales, she figured, as her eyes grazed along cars with brands that were so old she couldn’t remember the names of them. Stores like these must attract the more interesting people with vehicles like those.

It was when she saw a polished and brand-new-looking typewriter in one of the windows, she paused. Above it, she saw her own reflection; a puffy reddened face stained with an ongoing array of tears.

“I really hope you’re not crying because you want that typewriter so awfully bad,” a voice spoke.

She whipped around, coming face to face with a man who was giving her a kind look. His eyes were hazel, matching the brown suit he wore, and his head shaved to a buzzcut. He had sharp features, and still looked awfully British.

“I- Uh… No, I’m not,” she stuttered, trying to wipe the waterworks away with her sleeve.

The man then held out a folded cotton handkerchief to her, along with a smile as an attempt to cheer her up. She gratefully accepted both.

“Not any bloke I’d need to beat up, is there?”

She laughed blubberingly, “I don’t think that would be the solution to my problems, but thank you.”

“Thank god,” he huffed, “Because to be quite honest, I can’t throw a punch for the life of me. I would’ve had to ask one of my mates to do it for me, and cheer him on as he’d won my own fight.”

“I don’t think that would count as your fight,” she chuckled.

“Defending a lady’s honour is always my fight,” he replied. He shook his head, “Apologies for the rudeness, miss. Haven’t even properly introduced myself. I’m Miles.”

She gave him her own name, “and it’s nice to meet you, Miles. May I ask what you’re doing about this late?”

He gave her a strange look, “Why, it’s the perfect hour, why wouldn’t I be about? The night has only just started, and one of my close mates is preforming in the pub nearby. Want to join?”

She only took a moment to hesitate, before wilfully agreeing. “Sure.”

#Arctic Monkeys #Alex Turner #Alex Turner x Reader #Matt Helders #Miles Kane #TLSP #The Last Shadow Puppets #Nick O'Malley #AM #TBHC #Jamie Cook #Wpsiatwin #Humbug #Suck It And See #Fanfiction

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demivampirew · 4 years

Text

Keep Calm and Go to London chapter 11

Synopsis: This is the story of (y/n), a successful actress, musician, musical producer and songwriter. After battling depression and breaking up a long relationship, she seeks for a change of air, escaping LA for a while going to visit some friends in London and there she meets Henry. -Disclaimer: some chapters are mostly smut.

Previous Chapters:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Triggers: crying.

Tag list: Here’s the incredible people who showed me support (thank you so much for that) and people who asked me to tag them too ☺️ (I think I will write a few chapters of this story, if you want me to tag you, tell me ☺️ ) @cavillanche @mary-ann84 @henry-owns-these-tatas @yespolkadotkitty @dancingwendigo constip8merm8 penwieldingdreamer iloveyouyen littlefreya wondersofdreaming alyxkbrl solariumss sweetybuzz25 @thethirstyarchive @agniavateira @honeyloverogers @hell1129-blog @lunedelorient @michelle-1185

-So, how did the audition go?- Henry asked you. You video-called him as soon as you woke up as you promised to do every day that you spend apart. You also agreed that he'd do the same before going to sleep. You had your audition the day before in the afternoon, but by the time it ended, he was already sleeping because he needed to be awake at 3 am to get ready to be on the set of the show, so he just left you a sweet good night text and went to bed. He was once again on Geralt's makeup but you were starting to get used to it. - Great! - you said, happy but not overexcited. He studied your expression. - Are you sure? You don't seem that excited. - Yes, I'm sure. I just don't want to get my expectations too high so it won't hurt so bad if I don't get it. - you admitted shrugging. - You'll get it. You're amazing! - he encouraged you - I know...and so are the other actresses up for the role. The casting director told me I did an amazing job, but he, the director and the producers needed to have a chat to see who of all the potentials candidates was the most fitting for the role, but he assured me that I was on that list. It's a good thing, but until they tell me "you got it", I won't celebrate anything. Ok, maybe the fact that it felt really good to be back on the acting game. It's been a while and until now I haven't realized how much I missed it. - I have not doubts you'll get it, but if you don't, you'll get other chances to work with Meryl Streep and there are thousands of movies ready for you to be on them if you want to and you know that.- he said proudly and made you smile. -You're right. Thank you.- How's Kal? - He's great. Kal! - Henry screamed at Kal to see if the puppy came to say hi to you but he showed you that the puppy was lazily resting on a couch. Both of you laughed. - Hi Kal! I missed you!- You could see him moving his tail, probably because he recognized your voice, but he continued sitting on his spot. - He's lazy today, but he's missed you too. We both do. - And I missed both of you too. - Do you by any chance know when you are coming back? - he asked - Not yet. They told me that by tomorrow the should have a decision made and then they let us know because they need to sign the contracts. So for sure, I have to wait another day and if I get it I have to stay until I signing. - I see. - he sighed- Well, it could be just a few more days hopefully. - Yes, let's hope so. - What are you going to do today? - I... I'm going to Jared's house -you said sighing in a sign of displeasing - You're going to your ex's house?- he repeated in an inquisitive tone, he clearly wasn't pleased with that. - Yes. When I moved out I didn't take everything with me, just some essentials. I have clothes, my awards, a few instruments and some other things that I still have to pick up. - Is he gonna be in there? - No, as far as I know. I haven't been talking to him. I only talk to his assistant Shayla, we're cool and she actually took the time to put most of my belongings into boxes to save me time. I just have to go and grab them and see if there's anything else mine that she might have forgotten to pack. We spoke yesterday and she told me that he agreed to leave the house for the day so I could take all my stuff and leave. He'll just give the key to her and she'll let me in and help me with everything. Are you jealous? - you questioned amused. - It's not that...It's just... you suffer a lot with him and in that house. I'm just not happy about the idea of you being in the place that caused you all that pain. - I know. It's not exactly happy for me either. I hate that house. But, I want my possessions back so I've got to go. I'll be alright, I promise. - I hope so. I'll call you tonight, ok? I have to be back on set right now. Bye baby- he said waving you. - Ok. Bye baby! - you replied blowing a kiss.

The house hadn't changed a bit since you left. The only difference is that for the first time in a long time was practically empty, except for Shayla, Beth - who went with you to help you and for moral support- and two men from a moving company waiting outside by the truck; Jared gave the day to all the employees that are always around the house so you could be alone as you picked up your stuff. You always begged him to do that, but of course, he had to wait for you to broke up to do it, but still, it was a nice gesture. Shayla's done a pretty good job boxing all your stuff. There were just a few minor things, like a pair of shoes, one of your guitars that she thought that belonged to Jared and a few books. You went to the closet to see if she missed any piece of clothing and you didn't find anything yours, but to your surprise, you found a woman's clothes where yours used to be. It didn't take you a long time to recognize some of those clothes and you knew that those belong to her; the woman he slept with right after you broke up with him, the woman he told you for a long time that "was just a friend". You looked at Shayla raising your eyebrow in a sign of annoyment. She didn't need you to say a word to know what was going on in your head. "She's been staying in here for the last couple weeks," she told you and you rolled you eyes and replied "whatever". After taking all the things that were yours, you hugged Shayla a thanked her for her help. She's always been so nice to you. She was one of the few people that you were going to miss now that things between you and her boss and friend were over. You decided to leave the unboxing part for another moment. Moving this was already exhausting. You went to take a shower and went to bed early. As soon as your head touched the pillow, all the feelings hit you hard and you started to cry, trying hard not to make a sound so your friend wouldn't hear you. True to be told, you didn't love Jared anymore, but he was important and meaningful to you and you were hoping that it'd be the same for him when it came to you. You have the feeling that he was never really in love with you, but you thought that you were important to him somehow. But now it didn't seem like it. He not only slept with that woman the same day of your break up, but he allowed her to move in with him after you moved. It doesn't hurt that he moved on. It doesn't even hurt that is with her. It hurts that he's saying "I don't care, you're replaceable". Because that's the truth, for him, neither Valery nor you are irreplaceable. You are just a woman and he could always find a new one. After a long cry, you felt better. You needed to let those negative feelings leave your body and don't let them bother you anymore. You left him in the past for a reason. And you made a promise to Henry. "Henry!" you said and gasp. He called you as promised before going to bed, but it was the afternoon in LA and you were still in your ex's house and you just had found out about the woman living there so you were a little distracted when he called you. You told him you were fine, but he saw your face and notice that something was off but you continued to avoid talking about it. You grabbed your phone, that you hadn't touched in all day and after seeing notifications from twitter, due to a paparazzo that took photos of you moving your stuff from Jared's house and ignoring it, you went directly to read the messages. You had one from Henry that said " I don't know what happened to you today, but I know you were not feeling ok. You're not forced to tell me anything, but I want you to know that I'm always there to listen when you need, no matter the time, the phone is on if you need a call. I hope you feel better. Talk to you, tomorrow baby." Once again you had tears on your eyes, but this time were tears of joy. You smiled and open your gallery and saw a few selfies that you two took together, several pictures of him cooking for you, pictures of him and Kal and pictures of Kal and you. You grabbed your phone and decided to text him the truth. You apologized to him because you failed your promise, but you assured him that you felt much better now. You left your phone on the nightstand and closed your eyes to sleep. A few minutes went by and your phone started ringing and you saw that it was Henry. -Hi- you answered is a low tone - You should be sleeping. - I was - he replied and you notice by the sound of his voice that he was telling the truth- and I will be asleep again shortly, I just wanted to say that you're irreplaceable to me. You're not just another woman, you're special. You're extraordinary and I'm sorry if he failed to let you know that. You're incredible - he assured you. As he was saying this last words you heard him yawn. -Thanks, baby. Now, go back to sleep, we'll talk better tomorrow. - Ok. Sleep well!- he told you as you were pretty sure he fell asleep as soon as he finished saying those words. - You too, baby! - you replied and hung up.

#henry cavill #fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #demivampirew

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my-arlington-academia · 4 years

Note

Hello! Could I get headcanons for the main 10 with a Scholar who likes to leave love letters around for them to find?

Yes! 💗 and thank you for the request ✊ I'm not sure if they're already dating or not? I'm gonna assume they are. (This turned out to be so long! I'm gonna flood the tags again...)

Alistair

- first time you gave him one, it was on his desk

- he tried to read as swiftly as he could, but as he was reading through it, he started getting weird looks from the other students

- not surprising, he was grinning the whole time

- Raquel tried to look over his shoulder

- "Oooohhh~ what's that? A love letter? You're so popular with the ladies haha."

- he immediately hides it and stuffs it in his bag

- "Psh. N-no? It was just uhhh... homework!"

- poor boy sucks at lying

- "Of course, I'm sure everyone smiles like that at homework."

- Alistair keeps on giving you glances during class

- he didn't have the time to read all of it but he did see that you signed it and your handwriting is really recognizable

- afterwards, he quietly reads it in his room

- his heart races at each word

- comes to your room as soon as he finishes reading it

- "Y/N I came here to th- than- uhhh? Yeah! To thank you! Haha..."

- for a hot second he forgot how words work

- is laughing out of nervousness

- after that, you keep giving him more and more letters

- he starts consciously expecting to find one on his desk when he walks in

- is really sad when there's nothing on the desk...

Axel

- he already receives a lot of love letters ("fanmail") so how can you give it to him while making sure that he knows it's yours right away?

- you thought of a silly trick to throw him off guard

- When he's walking through the hallways you call out his name and give him the letter, you tell him that "he dropped this"

- he's surprised so he automatically grabs the letter

- "Oh! Thank you for picking it up for- Wait. I don't think this is mine. Uh...?"

- too late! You ran away immediately

- it takes him a few seconds to understand what you just did

- he's excited! But of course he's not going to read it in the middle of the hallway

- skips the beginning of next class to read it carefully in the cafeteria

- he blushes furiously at how passionate the letter is

- he's persuaded that you could write a beautiful love song

- comes in class 20 minutes late and gets detention from Tadashi but to be honest, he doesn't even care anymore

- When he walks in, he gives you a subtle look but you know what that look means

- you're so embarrassed that you try to ignore him the whole period... until he stealthly throws a paperball on your desk

- you open it, it says "look my way"

- even though you're mortified, you do so anyway

- he waves at you and smirks all knowingly

- ohhhh boy, you look away again

- you hear a stifled laugh, he probably thinks your reaction was really cute

Claire

- she often lends you pretty little boxes with cookies in them

- but when you have to give the box back to her, you get an idea

- you put a love letter in the empty box and give it back to Claire

- she discovers it in the evening when she opens the box, expecting to only find crumbs you left behind

- blinks a few times and closes the box

- opens it again and the letter is still inside

- she thinks "it wasn't a hallucination!"

- reads it really slowly because she has to stop at each sentence to calm herself down

- the next day she gives you the box again with the new cookies she baked yesterday

- runs away as soon as you take the box

- you open it and there's a letter on top of the cookies, it's a response to your letter!

- seems like she was too shy to tell you in person

- to fit the theme of the letter: the cookies are heart-shaped

- you guys keep on exchanging letters through the box and it becomes a habit between the two of you

Ellie

- since she doesn't have a roommate, you slide the letter through the small space under her door

- finds it on the floor when she gets back to her room

- OwO whats dis?

- opens it and reads it super quickly

- she's so giddy that she reads over it multiple times

- sends you text messages with lots of emojis in them

- "Thank youuu 💖💕💗 you sweetheart!!! 💘💝😍😊😘"

- builds a robot to deliver letters between the two of you

- it knocks on the door and if you don't open it to take the letter, it goes back to Ellie

- she teaches you how to use the robot!

- "Don't worry! If someone else snatches the letter away from the robot it'll activate an alarm on my phone! And it's not like we need to sign the letters, we can use codenames!"

- You remind her that she's the only one in the pure and applied sciences department to create cute robots like those

- "Ah whoops... well uh, to be fair everyone already knows that we're dating so... no need to hide it!"

Karolina

- she probably doesn't care much about love letters

- she always thought that it's childish and extremely ridiculous

- that is until you gave her one

- the really first time you gave the letter to her directly or else she wouldn't read it, not knowing that it was from you

- she's all proud of herself while reading it

- she agrees with each statement but still blushes

- "Of course I'm gorgeous! You didn't have to write that part..."

- she's actually a sucker for books, especially from the romance genre

- you make her feel like a heroine from one of those books and she's secretly really happy about it

- but she'll never admit that of course

- after a while she gets inspired and tries to write one herself

- she thinks "I'll show you how it's done!"

- ends up getting really embarrassed at the thought of you reading the letter and doesn't give it to you until the end of the year

Neha

- after multiple attempts you somehow managed to sneak the letter in one of her sketchbooks

- too bad you couldn't see the surprise on her face when she found your letter

- she wanted to work for a few hours and brainstorm ideas for some new outfits

- but her plans went out of the window

- she read it. Put it on the side and started thinking about you during a solid 20 minutes

- wants to thank you but doesn't know how to do it without sounding like a little kid

- decides to send you a text for now, but she'll also write you a letter later

- "Thank you a lot for the letter. I really appreciate it."

- thinks that maybe it's a little bit too cold so she adds a heart emoji at the end

- cringes to herself while sending it

- gets back to work but sometimes she draws your face on the side

- scribbles all over it when she realizes what she's doing

- "This is not professional! If I have to show my sketchbook to someone and they see this, they won't take me seriously..."

- decides to write you a letter first or else she won't be able to focus

Raquel

- This is a hard one

- Raquel always moves from place to place without stop so it's hard to be sneaky with her

- eventually you slip the letter in her bag but you don't know how much time it'll take for her to find it

- like you thought it took her a few days

- when she did, she was very vocal about it

- she ran to you and almost jumped on you

- hugs you and thanks you hundreds of times

- "I love you too!!! You're so sweet Y/N..."

- becomes much more flirty, she was already confident but now it's even worse (or better? 😌)

- puts the letter on the wall of her room and shows it off to Claire

- "Look at that Claire! It seems like my godly charm cannot be stopped."

- Raquel starts carefully checking her bag everyday in hopes of finding another letter from you

- and even when she doesn't find anything, it gets her into a working mood

- "Might as well do my homework I guess..."

- becomes much more responsible with homework now that she checks her bag everyday

- your love literally helped her to get better grades

Tadashi

- This was a risky mission

- you had to sneak into the student council room and leave it on his desk

- they had a meeting this afternoon and Tadashi has been in a bad mood lately

- Well, to be fair he's always done with everybody's BS but this time it was worse than usual

- he finds the letter and gets confused right away

- wants to read it but he's having a meeting

- he's really fidgety the whole time, for some reason he has a feeling that it's from you though he can't explain why

- once everyone leaves the room he opens the letter

- all of his stress dies down, he falls back on his chair and sighs

- goes to find you and brings you to the council room, he makes you sit on his chair

- you tell him that you can't be here but he smiles and answers "Oh? You say that now even though you snuck in earlier to give me a secret love letter of all things?"

- he teases you with endearment and massages your back to thank you

- asks you if you'll write more (because he loved it) and you promise to do so if he promises to take more breaks

Tegan

- Tegan often invites you to play videos games with him (or to marathon some shows/anime/movies/whatever)

- you left the letter behind for him but he didn't catch the drift

- goes to your room to give it back

- "Um... you forgot this, I think..."

- you tell him that it's for him

- "Wait, really? You can just text me, you know? It's quicker and way easier than writing letters."

- oooohhhh boy. He really doesn't get it, you have to spell it out

- "A l-love letter? For me!?"

- "Tegan. We're dating."

- "Oh right! Sorry... I always forget that, it seems like I'm in a dream..."

- reads it in front of you while you're paying close attention to his reactions

- and to no surprise: he's a blushing mess

- you're fully satisfied, all that time was worth it

- he says that he'll repay you with a "love text message" which sounds like he's being lazy, but really knowing how... "unique" his handwriting is, you're glad...

- but it was not just a text message.

- "Sorry, I went a bit overboard 🙏🙏"

- his text has a 23 pages long file attached to it

- he wrote a really really long essay explaining in details why you're "so awesome" and "the best person in the world"

Tyler

- after classes are over, when he's working on a new painting he spends almost all of his time in the art room

- that's when you strike!

- you know he has a habit of sitting in the corner of the room so that's where you leave the letter

- honestly, he was in a slump lately because he felt like he was doing a really half-assed job with his new art piece

- but your letter gave him so much motivation that he finished the painting in a day

- "This is crazy Y/N! Reading your letter gave me the same rush as drinking 5 monster drinks in the span of 2 hours!"

- "Uhhh... Please don't do that?"

- laughs at how worried you look and asks you to write more to give him strength

- you say no at first but he pulls out your letter out of his pocket and starts reading it out loud in the middle of the hallway

- "Ssshhh! People might hear!"

- "Yeah, so? That's kinda the point but if you promise to write me more I'll stop~"

- you know he's just teasing you but it's still so embarrassing...

- in the end you give in out of shame however you have no idea just how much this letter helped him

- whenever he feels down or like he's not good enough he pulls out one of your letters and reads it

- he keeps all of them safe in a box, they're his treasures

#sweet elite #se #main 10 #headcanons #requests #asks #hope you guys like it!

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