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cluelessatthispoint · 1 year

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HI ITS PLATONIC YANDERE ANOM HERE AGAIN IM SO SORRY FOR COMING IN YOUR ASKS AGAIN BUT I NEEDED TO GET THE IDEA OUT OF MY SYSTEM BEFORE I COMPLETELY FORGET ABOUT IT IM SORRY!!!!

I keep thinking of a platonic Yandere!RED Pyro with either a BLU Engineer!Reader or BLU Spy!Reader. The idea of Pyro, an absolute menace of a human, a danger to everything and everyone to some degree, a complete pyromaniac and ABSOLUTELY NOT sane in the head caring so deeply for someone who they are supposed to kill just fills my lil heart with joy.

Yes, they did force you to join their tea party with their "friends"(who are a bunch of dead parts of your teammates), they also broke all of your weapons and MAYBE went a little overboard by "begging you to stay just a little longer"(pointing their axe at you while starting directly at your soul) but like- c'mon! You two are besties!! It's normal!!!

They just want to spend their time with you out of battle! And your corpse after a battle or your severed head that Medic was experimenting on simply doesn't hit the same spot as talking to you while you are alive and "well"! Even if that means that they will have to tie you to a chair with a "lovely red and blue ribbon"(literally the tightest and itchy rope ever known to man) and "put a do not disturb sign on the door"(locking and barricading the door so nobody can leave or enter). They just want to spend time with you!! Is it so wrong to have you by their side on work days just for a few hours?? I'm sure your team won't even notice!! Just stay calm and let your good friend Pyro help you relax and forget about the outside world :D

(SORRY THIS IS SO LONG :()

To make this easier I'm going to write the reader as the BLU Spy. I really love the idea! Pyro is such a little crazy guy and I love him, not as much as engie. But it's pretty darn close. :) No worries about the long request, the more detailed the better!!!

warnings: platonic yandere, blood, mild gore and kidnapping.

~~~~~~~~

Being hired as the new BLU Spy for the BLU team was a surreal dream come true. The opportunity to go to new places and to see new things and experience different cultures while getting paid was really a great deal. Being under the tutelage of the former BLU Spy for years now you felt more ready for this job, than at any other job. The sights, the sounds, the comradery! It was perfect. Well, almost perfect.

Having worked for the team for a little over three months you began to notice right away that there was something up with the RED Pyro. That crazy arsonist seemed to target you every time in battle. No matter if you were cloaked or in disguise, he would somehow always know that you were there. It was so humiliating!

The time you disguised yourself as the RED Sniper he seemed to know right away. Remembering how you made it as far as the door to the intel room before he rounded the corner and hacked you to pieces with an axe. It was horrible. The feeling of white-hot pain and warm blood pooling out of you was one of the feelings that you would not have repeated. That damned RED Pyro, well. he has another thing coming to him that's for sure! Today for the match you made a plan. Before the RED Pyro could find you, you would find him!

The thought made you smile. With fifteen minutes till the battle started you set to finalizing every detail. Instead of cloaking and running to the RED Sniper's nest you would track around the RED base and disguise yourself as the RED Spy. Grabbing your tools and your invis watch you made your way over to the respawn room and waited. Before too long you were joined by your fellow teammates. The noisy din echoing off the tiled walls served as a comfortable distraction.

The memories of previous battles only fueled your determination. The disturbing memory of watching the previous battle's clean up flashed briefly across your mind. How from a distance you could see the enemy Pyro go digging around in the pile of corpses looking for something. You don't know why you stayed, why you watched him from afar. Maybe it was just morbid curiosity, or maybe it was just to simply be nosy. You weren't quite sure. But when the Pyro pulled your severed head from the pile you felt your knees wobble. The way he held your corpse in his arms seemed almost tender-like.

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts you readied your disguise. The voice of the Administrator signaling the start of the battle rang out loud across the field. Steeling your nerves, you cloaked yourself and headed out the door. Walking around the field, dodging bullets aimed for your fellow teammates you had only one objective in mind: to kill the RED Pyro.

Walking around the battlefield you noticed one thing that was odd. There were only eight RED's on the field. The Pyro was missing. Feeling a pit of dread well up in your abdomen you continued cautiously onwards. Finally making it inside the RED base you put on your disguise and walked freely through the halls. Every once in a while, the sound of soft footfalls from somewhere behind you made you put up your cloak in defense. Looking this way and that, there were no signs of anybody being nearby as far as you could tell.

"My nerves must be shot." Your soft voice sounded so quiet and yet so loud in the empty base.

Walking around, you couldn't find any signs of the RED arsonist anywhere. And it was really ticking you off.

Rounding a corner, you stopped dead in your tracks. There right in front of you, starring you down; like a mountain lion staring down its prey was the Pyro. Bringing a hand up to your face you adjusted your disguise, softly exhaling as you felt the paper between your gloved fingers.

"Ah, Bonsoir mon ami. I am just in here for a relaxing smoke."

Beads of sweat rolled down your masked face. Something wasn't right. The way he stared at you; something was wrong. Something here was very, very wrong. Trying to quell your rising panic you didn't notice how he took a small step forward. Then another, followed by another. Feeling your breaths increasing, you closed your eyes. Fight, flight or freeze. Three of the things that a spy should overcome if they ever wanted a chance to be successful in their career. Stopping in front of you the Pyro looked down at your disguised face. Being only a few inches shorter than him he still seemed to tower over you.

To Pyro, you looked so cute trying to disguise yourself as his friend. But he would always know who you disguised yourself as. After all you are his bestest friend. The way that you looked for him today seemed to prove that. Placing a heavy hand on your shoulder he pulled you into a hug. To you however, his hand pulled you into a chokehold. Feeling your mask slip off you flailed your arms and legs every way you could think of. Slipping free from his arms you ducked down and ran further into the base.

Feeling a smile rising to his lips he watched as you disappear as you rounded the corner. What a great friend you were; trying to find him first, then initiating a game of hide and seek. Oh boy! what fun! From the amount of time that passed from you searching him out to him choking you the battle was long over. The doors to the outside battle grounds were sealed shut. Finally happy to have his best friend over for a game of hide and seek and a sleep over he chuckled happily to himself. Oh, what a great time the two of you were going to have. Especially since the next scheduled battle would take place in a week. The idea of having a friend over for a whole week put some pep in his step.

You both were going to have a great time. Whether you liked it or not.

~~~~~~

Playing hide and seek with Pyro would be absolutely terrifying and so much fun at the same time!

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athenodora-sulpicia-writer · 1 year

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HERE IT IS!! MY VANESSA X ANGEL! READER FIC!! HOPE YOU ENJOY!! :D "WINGS" Vanessa has always found your wings fascinating. They're soft, beautiful, and fun to run your fingers through your feathers. When you stretch your back, your wings stretch too. when you feel sleepy, your wings are droopy and you tend to drag it around. When harm strikes, your wings shield her. Not letting danger come in no matter the damage. When you move in your sleep, it moves and stays at random places. When you're shy, your wings either cover your face or cover you like a cocoon. When you are being tickled, it either flaps, twitches or covers the spot being tickled.

Your wings can also show what emotion you are feeling. Similar to a dog with its tail. Like when you feel shock, scared or surprised, your wings pop out of its hiding place. Ripping your clothes in the process. The first time it happened was quite a funny yet troublesome event.

Wings are more useful than Vanessa ever thought of.

On hot days, it provides shade and a cool breeze with a single flap. In winter, It provides warmth. Not even the finest coats and blankets could rival it nor will you feel the freezing air, the coldest of winter. On rainy days, It provides shelter like a huge umbrella. On days where Vanessa has free time, you tend to soar high into the clouds with her. Showing the beauty of the world below, touching the clouds, watching the sunrise or sunset, talking about whatever comes to mind or simply enjoying each other's presence. In Vanessa's darkest days, it provides comfort and security.

Yes there were some inconveniences here and there. Y/n accidentally broke a vase once cuz she forgot how big her wings are. And then there were times where y/n got stuck in a tree on multiple occasions. Even broke a wing or two sometimes.

Can you imagine An angel , guardian of human beings, stuck on a tree? Well you would understandably think that angels are heavenly, divine and perfect. Vanessa also thought of that as well....but then there is y/n who changed her perspective as she pulls out the twigs and gives medical attention to her wings. y/n obviously won't be flying until recovery.

But the most common is when your wings tend to shed feathers. But Vanessa doesn't mind the mess. She finds it endearing to have something that's a part of you. Even finds it amusing to find your feathers in the most random areas in the mansion from time to time.

Truly magnificent.... and adorable.

She once asked if they were heavy to carry it around to which you replied no. She simply assumes you were used to it.

One day Vanessa found a trail of feathers that leads to your room. Once she reached her destination she saw you sitting on your bed brushing your wings. All the feathers that scattered in your room were more than enough to fill a king sized bed and many more pillows. You felt someone staring and locked eyes with the woman standing a few feet away from you.

"Oh! I'm sorry -I didn't mean to make a mess." You blurted out. You then noticed some of your feathers that went outside the door and stopped brushing your wings. "I was trying to groom my wings so you don't have a mess to clean up." you confessed. Too guilty to make eye contact with her.

Vanessa smiled. "Don't worry about it. I'll get someone to clean it up." She gently assured you. This woman was so kind even after everything she has been through. How could she deserve such a horrible fate? It's unfair!

"No please. Let me clean it up. It's seen as shameful for a high class such as yourself to have untidiness in your manor." You try to convince her with reason. Vanessa continued smiling. Amused at your concern, she started picking up your feathers.

"I don't mind. Really. I don't get visitors all the time." She spoke softly and closed the door behind when finished picking up your feathers. She then sat on the bed with you.

"I always find myself smiling whenever I find your feathers in whatever places. It reminds me that I am not alone anymore." Vanessa answered truthfully. You were one of the few people that she opened up to. Words can't describe how much it made you feel special.

Today seems a bit different. She was staring at your wings longer than usual. She was mesmerized. She just can't stop staring at your wings. She can't stop staring at you.

You look so ethereal sitting beside her. So Relaxed. Too focused on the book you were reading, you didn't notice her staring at you. The sunlight from the windows made your wings look like they were glowing.

Thankfully it's just Vanessa and her beloved Y/n sitting on the couch. Both are reading a book or at least one of them. You were grateful to have the opportunity to no longer hide your wings. Any longer than your limit would give you back pains for a week.

Without thinking, Vanessa got up and stood behind you. Soon her lips met your wings. Giving each a gentle kiss. "Your wings are very beautiful. You are very beautiful" she mutters.

"O-oh! thank you!" you gave a flustered reply. Vanessa's kisses send shivers down your spine, you blushed. Quite unexpected but you're not complaining.

what do you think? :D I also got more ideas about vanessa x angel! reader btw. :3

This was so cute 🥰, I’m in love with it, such a beautiful concept. Now I definitely have to write something with Vanessa x angel, if that’s alright with you of course.

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lgbtqiadnf · 2 years

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The years end! (A DTQK ff)

Hello!! Im back! This is a DTQK dabble for the NEW YEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OMGGG!! I CANNOT BELIVE IT :DD HOPE EVERYONE HAS A GOOD NEW YEAR FILLED W/ AMAZING THINGS!!!!!:D NOW WE MUST BEGIN! (only like 1000 bc im too lazy)

11:21PM

This was the first ever time Dream Team was all together to celebrate the coming of a new year! This was going to be the “most Insane new years ever,” quote by GeorgeNotFound.

“George, to say this was the worst idea ever, is an understatement,” Quackity said, as George put up lights around the house, “What?” George stood on an unbalanced stool,

“what if Dreams tall ass gets choked out because you put the lights too low?” Quackity created a fake scenario, “Thats on Dream, its not my fault I put them low! You’re not helping me so,” George rolled his eyes,

“this was your idea! I dont need to help you,” Quackity argued back, “Why are you here then?” George got off the stool, “I don’t wanna hang out with Dream and cook, that would be horrible to not only have to be with him but cook to? Ew no,” Quackity joked, “How about Karl or Sapnap,” “They already are partners,” “Partners?” George giggled, titling his head as if Quackity said he was something odd,

“Yeah, partners... so you’re the only one left,” Quackity grossly admitted, “Ok, go get me more lights, I’m almost done!” “Where else do we need to do?” “Your room! We’re almost done Dreams,” Dreams room was massive, so it took a couple extra minutes for George to put all the lights up, “Isn’t this your room too?” Quackity joked, “No...” George blushed, glaring at Quackity.

11:33PM

“NO! You’re the biggest idiot!” Karl lightly pushed Sapnap out the way, “You’re doing it wrong!” Sapnap and Karl bickered back and forth,

Sapnap and Karl were decorating cookies, Sapnap was trying to write to draw a “New years” hat but Karl said it looked more like a birthday hat rather than whatever Sapnap said a ‘new years’ hat was,

“Karl, those types of hats exist!” Sapnap defended, “I know they exist! but your cookie makes it look like you’re going to celebrate a 3 year olds birthday!” Karl rolled his eyes, “Its fine Karl! Shut up- I’ve done it,” Sapnap put the cookie to aside,

“Thats horrible,” Karl muttered, loud enough for sapnap to hear but quiet enough for Dream not to hear, who was a couple feet away making cookies, “I’m going to leave, I’ll go to fucking- I’ll go hang out with Quackity,” Sapnap rolled his eye, “no, no, no- fine, it looks good,” Karl smiled, kissing Sapnap on the cheek,

“Stop-” Sapnap blushed, cleaning the spot where Karl kissed him, making Karl giggled, grabbing another cookie,

“Can you pass me- uhm... Orange,” Karl asked, “Here,” Sapnap looked at what Karl type of cookie he had, it was a heart shaped one, which already had purple on it, “Pfft-” Sapnap let out,

Karl put orange on the other side of the heart, making one half of cookie purple with an orange, “S” for sapnap and the other, orange, with a purple “K” for Karl. Karl smiled at the cookie, “Its the karlnap cookie!” Karl showed the cookie to Sapnap, making him laugh,

11:39PM

“Are you done with the lights?” Dream smiled, as George and Quackity joined him in the kitchen,

George sighed, “Yeah,” looking in the fridge, “Whats wrong?” Dream turned around hugging George, “I’m tired,” George groaned, “Last night when we stayed up you were fine?” Quackity added, “Yeah, but I had a nap yesterday, I’ve been up ALL day,” George closed the fridge, turning around to look at Dreams new batch of cookies, “these smell nice,” George smiled,

“GEORGE!” Quackity yelled from upstairs, “YOU MISSED MY ROOM! COME UP!” George rolled his eyes, “I’ll be up...” George groaned, “Why doesnt he do it? Make him do it! Stay with me,” Dream lightly grabbed George’s sweater, “Uhm...” George blushed, “I’ll ask him,” George pulled out his phone message Quackity,

“Thanks, I was lonely,” Dream smiled, “uhm...Now- well, I’m here!” George smiled, blushing, “Do you want to make a cookie?” Dream picked up an Among Us cookie, knowing George would love the cookie, “I made this one for you!” Dream gave George the cookie, “thank you! Can you give red?” George points at the food colouring,

Dream gave his blue instead of red, “This blue?” George stared at Dream but all dream did was laugh, “Blue looks better,” Dream smiled, “Sureee,” George didn't necessarily care that it wasnt red but it was better.

11:46 PM

Quackity was left alone with patches and Tiger who seemed to be getting along now, “Where is George?” Quackity asked the cat duo, but they payed no mind to him and is question,

Quackity pulled out his phone to message George just to see a notification from George saying, “can u put the lights up on ur own!! Im busy rn :]”

Quackity almost screamed, “Fuck...” Quackity rolled his eyes, looking at the box of lights, “Nah, no... fuck that,”

Instead Quackity joined the cat duo on the floor, and messed around with the two.

11:52PM

Everyone was now in the living room, talking about what they were looking forward to the New Years, “I’m excited... to be in the US for new years!” George could quite think of something,

“My turn! I’m looking forward to beat George in subs,” Sapnap joked, “Thats what I’m looking forward to too!” Quackity cooed, “ok- stop... Lets go do fireworks its ‘56″ George got up, getting firework “56?!” Sapnap shoot up heading for the door,

11:56PM

Sapnap placed a firework done and George grabbed the lighter from Dream and lit up the firework, running away from firework and running into Dream and hugging him.

The firework shot up and exploded in millions with a red colour, than another one this time blue, and another which is green, making Dream and George scoff lightly,

“Wait, that was Dream Team colours!” Karl smiled, patting Sapnap on the chest excitedly, “Oh my god!”

Sapnap then sat down this small one and George lit it, instead of it going in a million pieces it went shot up a bunch of flares, Quackity ran up behind George, shaking him, “OH MY GOD! QUACKITY!” George yelled getting Quackity off George, “You bitch!” George rolled his eyes, “GUYS! Its 11:59!” Dream interrupted,

11:59PM

“5-4-3-2-1!” The 5 said in unison, yelling, “YEAH!” “WOOO!” “YES!” The five smiled, hugging,

“Happy new years guys!” Karl smiled, hugging both Sapnap and Quackity at the same time, “Happy new year!” Dream put his arm around George,

The five smiled, finally together for the new years, it was a perfect night to spend with all together.

THE END!!!!!!!

HAPPY NEW YEAR LOVE YOU LOTS <33 STAY SAFE C:

#dtqk #dtkq #dteam fic #karlnapity #karlnap fanfic #qnf #dnf #dreamwastaken #georgenotfound #quackity #karl jacobs #sapnap

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valerie-is-in-the-cupboard · 1 month

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The ABCs of Alastor - Aftercare

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

Hello! This is the first "chapter" of my new series, which will mostly consist of drabbles. While the series is intended to be NSFW overall, some entries may be less explicit than others. Also, sorry for the angsty chapter. I hope you enjoy it <3

Words: ~1790 TW: angst, mentions of sex, established relationship

Sex with Alastor was… overwhelming, to say the least. It was like every time he tried to outdo himself, making sure that after he was done, you were nothing but a trembling mess.

So, there you were each time, lying on the bed, looking at the ceiling, trying so hard to catch your breath, the waves of pleasure slowly leaving your body.

At first, sex with Alastor seemed like it was just a chore—he had to fuck you and then get back to business. And, much to your dismay, aftercare was no better. It was minimal to nonexistent sometimes.

He would look at you with that usual smile as he placed a clean towel next to you and made his way to the door. At first, you tried to understand: that he was not used to showing his true feelings. You tried to get used to it, but each time, you couldn't shake the horrible feeling that would settle over you—embarrassment. Those horrible nights you spent alone made you feel small and insignificant. They made you feel like you were nothing to him but a piece of meat he could use.

One night in particular, after he finished, you watched him get dressed, humming as he was putting his vest on.

“You don’t stay here tonight?” you asked as the eerie, familiar feeling of loneliness slowly engulfed you.

“Sorry, dear. I have responsibilities at the hotel,” he said, his tone still smooth but lacking its usual warmth. The words seemed to carry an edge, a hint of the burden he bore.

“But… what is there to take care of? Everyone’s sleeping. I don’t think it’d hurt if you stayed here for a bit…” Alastor stopped in his tracks and looked at you with a hint of annoyance in his eyes.

“Darling, the hotel is a business venture. And businesses require my attention all the time,” he explained, a slight hint of irritation in his voice. He finished buttoning his shirt, running his hands through his hair to fix it. He took a deep breath, his smile never leaving his face. “You’ve been quite clingy lately.”

“Maybe if you didn’t treat me like a piece of meat, I wouldn’t feel this way!” you retorted, your voice sharper than intended. The frustration in your tone made it clear how deeply hurt you were. Alastor’s smile faltered momentarily at your harsh words. He turned to face you, his demeanour shifting from casual to deliberate. His steps toward the bed were measured, the weight of your accusation palpable in the air.

“If you’re dissatisfied with my busy schedule, perhaps you should seek someone who is more… attentive,” he suggested, his voice taking on a frigid tone. The coldness in his words betrayed an effort to mask his own discomfort. You could feel tears in your eyes as you got up and quickly got dressed. You hoped he would stop you, but he didn’t. Alastor watched silently as you left the room, his expression unreadable.

A wave of guilt washed over him, but he pushed it away quickly, refusing to acknowledge it. He was the Radio Demon; he shouldn’t care about some girl whining about his behaviour. But still, a small part of him couldn’t ignore the hurt look in your eyes as you walked away.

Alastor expected you to come knocking on his door again the next night, as usual. But to his surprise, days turned into weeks, and you didn’t return. He tried to push away the twinge of worry he felt, telling himself that you were probably just sulking. He convinced himself that you would come running back to him eventually.

But deep inside, a small voice nagged at him, telling him that he had pushed you away too far this time. So, in a matter of seconds, you found yourself on his bed, a gasp escaping your mouth as the portal closed behind you. Before you had a chance to react, he was already looming over you, a frown on his face.

“And where do you think you’ve been, darling?” he asked, his voice low and stern.

“I thought you had more important things to do!” you said through your teeth. Alastor’s expression darkened slightly at your tone. His eyes narrowed as he leaned closer to you, his face just inches away from yours.

“Don’t use that tone with me, darling,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of warning. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

“I fucked Vox. At least he knows how to treat me after sex,” you spat at him, a smirk on your face. It was a lie of course, but you knew it would get under his skin.

Alastor’s eyes widened at your claim, his heart tightening with a mixture of disbelief and pain. The facade of control slipped as his smile twisted into a snarl. He seized your wrists, pinning you against the bed, his anger barely contained. “You’re lying,” he growled, his grip on your wrists tightening with a fierce intensity. “You wouldn’t do that.” The conviction in his voice was tinged with a desperation to cling to his disbelief.

“Oh, you have no idea, Al… He even wanted to broadcast it so the entire Pentagram City would see,” the smile on your face never faded. You loved seeing him worked up like this. It gave you some reassurance that he did care a bit about you after all.

Alastor’s mind was racing. The thought of you with Vox sent a pang of dread through his chest. He clenched his jaw, his eyes darkened.

“Are you enjoying this, darling?” he asked, his voice dripping with anger. “You’re enjoying seeing me like this, aren’t you?”

“Maybe now you know how I felt on all those nights when I was here alone,” you said, your voice less aggressive. “Remember what you said to me? That I should find someone else? What if I did?”

Alastor’s grip on your wrists loosened slightly at your words. The anger in his eyes faded, replaced by guilt and regret. He remembered that night when he had sent you away with those cold words. “You’re… you’ve been with him?” he asked, his voice strained.

You pushed him off you, getting up on the bed. “No, asshole… I didn’t do anything with that idiot… or anyone, for that matter,” you admitted, your eyes never leaving his red orbs.

Alastor’s heart raced, a profound relief sweeping over him. The realization of how deeply the thought of you with another had affected him hit hard. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, his eyes never leaving yours. “You didn’t?” he repeated, his voice laced with disbelief.

“No, Al…” you said, looking away from him. “But I can’t do this if you’ll continue to treat me like I’m the least of your priorities…”

He sat up slowly, making his way to your side of the bed, his gaze fixed on you. He had never actually thought about it. Not even in his human days when he would have a very rare one-night stand. He never stayed. His detachment had once been a matter of indifference, but now, things were different.

“Darling, I… didn’t realize,” he said, his voice trembling with genuine remorse as he knelt before you. “You’ve never been the least of my priorities. I just… I don’t know how to show it…”

“Perhaps start by staying with me instead of leaving every night?”

Alastor let out a sigh, his expression pained. “Darling, the hotel is a business—”

“One that is already up and running,” you interrupted him. “It doesn’t need you twenty-four hours a day,” you added, your voice filled with frustration. He flinched at your words, knowing that you were right. He had been using the hotel as an excuse to avoid getting closer to you, to avoid opening himself up to emotions he had locked away for a long time.

“You… you’re right,” he mumbled, looking down at his hands. “I guess I… I’ve been avoiding dealing with… us.”

You gently placed your hand over his, a soft smile on your face. “I’m not asking you to give me the world… I know it’s hard for you. All I want is for you to actually show me you care about me…” You said, pausing for a moment. “If you care…”

Alastor’s heart ached at your words. He cared about you more than he cared to admit. But even after all these months, he couldn’t bring himself to fully open up to you, to fully let you in. But seeing you sitting there in front of him, your hand on top of his, begging for a little bit of care, he couldn’t help but feel ashamed of himself.

“I… do care about you, darling,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “More than I’ve cared about anyone in a very long time.”

You smiled at his words, gently squeezing his hand. “In that case… what is your plan for tonight?”

He chuckled, a mixture of relief and amusement washing over him. “Oh, I had no plans at all,” he answered, leaning in a little closer to you. “Except making up for lost time…”

To be frank, you thought Alastor would go back to his old habits, leaving you once again all alone. But he didn't.

At first, he seemed hesitant, not really knowing what to do, so he would just lie there next to you, the sound of your breathing disturbing the silence. But you knew he was trying to improve, for you.

“You alright, dear?” you eventually heard him say.

“Yes, Alastor, I’m fine. Are you alright?” He didn’t answer, mostly because he didn’t know if he was alright. He felt restless and vulnerable. He didn’t want to get so close to you, but here he was. Engulfed in a feeling that he didn’t exactly hate, afraid that one day this would be taken away from him too.

He didn’t answer, but he just wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer to him. “Will you ever leave me again?” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, the static that usually coloured it gone. The vulnerability in his question was almost palpable.

“Will you ever leave again?” you asked back. Once again, no answer came, but his grip grew tighter on you as you rested your head on his chest. His heart was beating fast, the heart that he always claimed was gone. It was beating so hard now. It was beating so hard, and you were the reason for it.

Tags: @ratsematary @littlebluefishtail

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bw-ventblog · 2 years

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This is literally just for me to vent and diary about so here I go

Just got out of massive depressive episode and haven't had an alcoholic drink in a week, which is a big deal for me. I'm usually drunk or high to get through the day. I know its not healthy but like? I cant afford to see a doctor or get medicine to help me. That costs hundreds or thousands or dollars. A bottle of vodka is like $15

I dont wanna be dependent on these things but there are days I wake up and just sob because I feel so pathetic and hopeless about the future. My disability prevents me from movimg away but I desperately want to get out of this house

My mom touched me when I was 4. It was like a weirdly repressed memory until recently, and now that it's back it's like it's been laser engraved into my brain. Every time I see her I get phantom pains. It flashes theough my head every SINGLE time. I think about how it was the worst pain I've ever endured, having her finger shoved inside of me as I kicked and screamed and begged her to stop. On top of that theres just so much else. She's called me slurs before, calling me a "half-breed n*gger d*yke" and a "r*tarded cripple". She made fun of my developing body, mocked the size of my aerolas to the point I'm still self conscious about it as a 24 y/o. She was always making comments about how fat bodies are disgusting and she hated "cows"; I was so afraid of her thinking of me like that I developed anorexia and battled it for 3 long years.

When I was little and struggling with mental illness, she had our police officer neighbor come over and tell me that my parents were going to send me away because I was such a horrible kid. She threatened to send me to a group home or give me away to foster care if I didn't listen to her and perform as expected. She used to grab me in a chokehold and force tabasco sauce into my mouth when I was like 7, and the taste and pain was so much I'd vomit. She'd smack me across the face or shove me into the wall kr refrigerator, then make me clean up the puke before sending me to my room. Once she even dragged me by my hair to the bathroom, bodily threw me into the tub, and hosed me down with freezing cold water after I threw up on my clothes.

It wasn't until recently that I realized that that's NOT NORMAL. That all of those things were incredibly abusive and traumatizing. And this woman has the gall to say she loves me and always did her best to care for me. I am terrified to be at home. I had to move back in with my parents during covid due to my worsening health putting me in a wheelchair. I can't work so I can't move out, I feel constantly trapped and afraid. She randomly threatens to throw me out once every few months, and constantly guilt trips and belittles me about the slightest thing. I just stay locked in my room most of the time because I'm scared to be around her

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hoodiewithhorns · 3 years

Text

━ using your safe word scenarios ★

characters : hajime iwaizumi, tetsuro kuroo, keiji akaashi.

there will be a part 2 & 3 coming soon!

edit : p.2 is out <3

m.sterlist + requests box

▲ cw : not proof read, angst, use of safeword, “red” used as the safeword, clit spanking, mean!doms, hurt/comfort, established relationship, forced orgasm, jealousy, oral m! receiving, facefucking, foreplay f! receiving, degradation, slight punishment if you squint, aftercare/reassurance , all characters are 18+, MDNI ▼

Kuroo

- you weren’t necessarily in a good mood to be fucked roughly by him

- you just wanted some soft passionate sex with kuroo

- You assumed he’d figure out what you wanted due to him knowing you better than yourself.

- But you were wrong..very wrong.

-Not wanting to disappoint your boyfriend you played along.

- biggest mistake.

〜 ☆

you bobbed your head on his cock while he groaned at the slow pace. you were taking your time today since you weren’t in the best mood to be shoving him down your throat. you thought he take this as a sign of you wanting things slow soft and sweet, instead he took this as a sign of you being bratty, a brat who deserves punishment in his eyes.

“you little brat.” he forcefully shoved his cock down your throat. You gagged in response feeling your eyes become glossy, tears promising to spill at any given minute, looking up at him with pleading eyes hoping he’d show some form of mercy. but of course, he didn’t. tightening the grip on your hair he moved you back and forth on his cock causing you to gag and your breathing becoming heavy.

you heart ached in your chest as you tried to push him off, but to no avail. a dark chuckle leaving his throat as he watched you struggle, a sight he would commonly enjoy. “such a bad girl today huh? maybe i should go find another goodgirl. one that’ll actually listen.” you tried to shake your head as fat tears streamed down your face, the thought of him replacing you being one your biggest fears. did he mean that? just cause you weren’t in a good mood he was gonna replace you? you thought to yourself noticing the grip he had on you loosened a little. you could move away now and so you did. pulling away from his cock trying to catch your breath only causing him to get angrier. “why are you being so bad today? why cant you be a goodgirl and-“

“Red!” you choked out a sob as more tears fell from your face staining the bed sheets beneath you. sitting up, your palms resting on your thighs as you sobbed. the room went silent with the only sound present being your soft cries alongside with your occasional sniffles. confused he lifted your chin up, you pathetically looked up at him like a helpless little puppy. he finally understood what was wrong, mumbling a few curses as he got closer to you, sitting you on his lap as you cried into his chest.

“easy now baby. i’m so sorry...” he whispered thanking whatever was above that he hadn’t lost you, feeling horrible for not picking up the obvious signs you weren’t in the mood for any of this.

“d-do you really wanna l-leave me?” your voice was hoarse from one getting your throat fucked and two crying. hugging you tighter and feeling nothing but regret. each cry you let out tugged at his heartstrings. he never wanted this how could he have been so blind? you were his little baby he wanted to protect every chance he got. now you were here. sobbing into his chest all because he didn’t realize you weren’t in the right mood today.

“never prettygirl. i’d be devastated without you in my life... I didn’t mean that I promise.” he pulled you away from his chest to face you. kissing the few tears you had left on you. even with tears pampered all over your face, to him you still managed to be pretty. even if it hurt him since he was the reason for all this, you could tell he was on the brink of tears too. he couldn’t imagine a life without you without his precious girlfriend in his life he’d be a train wreck.

“i-i...i just wanted us to go nice and gentle tonight..i didn’t have a good day today..but i didn’t want you to be mad since you like it when its rough so..”

he let out a chuckle at your last sentence causing you to look at him in confusion. “yeah being rough is nice and all but its only nice when you’re in the right mindset for it. you should’ve told me you weren’t feeling it tonight baby. If you wanna get fucked nice and gently by me you should’ve just said so my love.” he says planting a kiss on your forehead.

you smiled, reverting back to your previously cheery self making kuroo more than happy. he rested his head on top your shoulder “if you want, we can try again baby. this time i’ll give it to you nice and sweet..you’d like that wouldn’t you my pretty baby?” he whispers into your ear planting kisses down your neck as you let out a whimper feeling him smirk against your neck.

“mm-mhm please tetsu...”

he wastes no time wrapping his arms around your waist as your cunt feels him hardening again. “whatever my baby wants who am i to deny?”

akaashi

- the thought of using your safeword never occurred to you when you were with akaashi

- in fact he suggested it just in case things took a turn you didn’t like

- tonight was different though you were his innocent girlfriend who just wanted to treat him the way he treats you so lovingly

- wearing nothing but his shirt accompanied by a cute pair of panties feeling confident about your plan to please your boyfriend.

- though it doesn’t go according to plan,

you saw him sitting on the bed reading a novel still in his formal clothing. You were feeling particularly needy tonight learning a few new things you read from the internet a week ago on how to please your boyfriend sexually. you did however feel a bundle of nerves fill you up, but you just assumed it was because this was something you’ve never done before to anyone.

akaashi was not only your first, but he was your first boyfriend your first everything when it came to romance. now, putting all your insecurities aside, you were going to try out what you learned tonight on your beloved boyfriend!

walking towards him, you crawled on top of his lap, arms wrapped around his neck to pull him in for a sweet kiss. he smirked setting his book down on the nightstand while taking his glasses off as well.

“Can I help you pretty girl?” he questioned placing his hands on your hips. “oh nothing...i just want you tonight..is that okay?” you asked, your innocent voice making akaashi smile. you were just so cute and pure in his eyes. you jump in excitement ready to initiate your plan to please your boyfriend. you started kissing him slowly yet passionately, grinding your wet cunt against his slowly hardening cock through his pants.

he opened his eyes to clearly understand what you were doing. to his shock what he assumed was correct. His innocent girlfriend who had no knowledge on how to please her boyfriend grinding up against him. maybe you were just being extra needy? he told himself. not longer after he snapped back to reality as he felt you pull away from him only to kiss down his jaw leaving a trail of soft kisses.

His cheeks becoming red as your soft lips traced down to unbutton his shirt. “so handsome..” You said kissing his chest as you went down to his abdomen. he would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying this, but.... Your not gonna do what he thinks you are right?? his own girlfriend who was too shy who cried at the first attempt to sucking him off?? no he must be getting ahead of himself.

looking down once more to check up on you, he finds you unbuckling his pants letting his cock spring free. his mouth agape seeing your head already lick his precum nice and clean, pumping him a few times to get all his precum out. he shudders as your wet tongue touches his cock, giving him kitten licks here and there. taking a deep breath, shoving him down your throat all in one go, a small gag escaping from you, squeezing your eyes tightly trying your best not to cry.

humming, you bobbing back and forth making him grunt at the waves of pleasure you were giving him. Still, he felt uneasy. who taught you this?? he was always the one guiding you, teaching you how to do things yet here you were sucking him down your pretty little throat. head thrown back his groans mixed with his thoughts, he kept overthinking the reasons as to how you picked up on this.

did Bokuto teach you?? you two always got along so well..sometimes leaving akaashi to third wheel, but why was he thinking about that now??

“shit..” he grunted as he felt his high approaching. He tried to pull your head back so he wouldn’t end up cumming in your mouth, but you stayed on his cock till he came.

smiling at him, you licked your lips, swallowing his cum. leaving him surprised at everything you’ve just done. you’ve never did any of this nor tried to. It hurt the first time you tried to give him head now here you are taking him down your throat? He couldn’t believe it.

he wanted to get to the bottomed of this quickly.

“dirty girl.” he spits out flipping you to the other side of the bed, pushing your head down to the pillow putting your ass up with your cunt in full display for him. you winced at the sudden aggressive force.

“who taught you all those things you little slut?”hooking his finger onto your soaked panties to push them aside, he shoved two fingers deep inside of your dripping hole making you whimper at the painful stretch, not giving you enough time to adjust as he pumped into you.

“k-keiji w-wait!!” you whined screwing your eyes shut to fight back your tears, while he started pumping his fingers at an inhuman pace, he hovered over you, your back to his chest while his head rested on your shoulder.

“i asked you a question, so I expect an answer.” his voice was cold and stern without a sound of love or worry. the stretch of his fingers were painful especially with how he was practically scissoring you open. your eyes rolled at to the back of your head feeling your climax approaching, but it hurt so much you weren’t used to such a rough pace.

akaashi always took his time with you. Going slow and easy, praising you, calling you his angel or goodgirl for taking him in so well. but now he was none of these things.this felt like a completely different person to what you were use to.

“mm’ n-no one! keiji- p-please s-slow down it hurts!!” you sobbed only making him click his tongue at you, your heart sank feeling foggy and uneasy.“you probably like that it hurts huh? you’re dripping around my fingers you filthy slut.” he never used a tone as harsh as this before. never calling you names or degrading you in general. the pain in your chest overlapping the pleasure as more tears fall.

“n-no not a s-slut!! p-please stop! it hurts please keiji please-“ you begged feeling your stomach tighten as he kept fingering you till you screamed, squirting all over the bed sheets. “dirty slut.” He pulled out abruptly from you causing you to choke out another sob. your body trembling at this point as you pant out in desperation to form words scared of what he might do next. “N-no more please I’ll be good i p-promise just please..” you begged him once again, hoping he’d notice the pain you were in...he didn’t.

“no. sluts like you don’t get to make decisions like that.” He was about to pull your shirt off until you screamed and kicked “red! red! r-red!!” he moved away only to watch you curl in on yourself, hugging your knees for comfort, refusing to look him in the eyes. “baby..?” he said softly trying to move you to face him to his horror you flinched shrinking in on yourself.

“keiji... why were you s-so...mean to me i only wanted to make you feel good..you always make me feel good so why did you..” immediately, he scooped you into his arms rocking you back and forth as if you were a toddler. you cuddled up against his chest as he felt your tears fall on his chest.he didn’t mind of course. “shh its okay..its okay..” the voice he commonly spoke to you coming back, soft, reassuring, just how you liked it.

“baby..im sorry i.. I didn’t mean to be so mean..i just got scared you were maybe..well someone might’ve been teaching you these things..” you froze pulling away to look at him.

“w-what? I didn’t learn that from anyone..id never let anyone teach me or touch me but you keiji! i just..read some stuff about it online...and I wanted to test it out..” you admitted through sniffles still rubbing your tears away. He sighed as he hugged you again running his fingers through your hair.

all you wanted was to please your boyfriend from just that, his heart skipped a beat at how sweet you were being, but the feeling was overshadowed by feeling so stupid for letting his insecurities take the best of him.

“I’m sorry baby.. I promise to never speak to you like that ever again..you’re my sweet girl and I love you so so much.. you were just trying to do something nice for me..thank you i appreciate it my love..it felt really nice you did good.” He cupped your face in his hands, peppering soft kisses around your face.

he smiled as you giggled at the ticklish feeling, sighing in relief.

“ i love you, my sweetgirl. ”

Iwaizumi

- he got home pissed off since he saw you chatting and giggling with mattsun.

- he needed to blow off some steam

- he didn’t mean to be so mean he really didn’t

-he was usually a soft dom but today..he was everything but soft to you.

“ filthy fucking whore. what were you doing talking to mattsun huh?” his thrusts were sharp, painful, not being prepped well enough by him making the stretch of his cock burn through your gummy walls. feeling the air in your lungs start to leave you slowly as tears streamed down your face at iwaizumis cold , heartless, tone. there was not a single trace of him, not a sign of his love. you weren't trying to make him jealous, you just spend sometime to get to know mattsun just a little more since he was friends with your boyfriend never expecting him to react like this.

snapping back to your current situation, you arched your back letting out a loud cry as he slapped your puffy clit. “didn’t i ask you a fucking question? or did your dumb slutty brain already get fucked out of you huh?” he wrapped his hands around your throat thrusting harder and deeper in you.

his tip painfully hitting your cervix with each thrust making you cry at the pain. you tried pushing him off with the little strength you had in you, sobbing out an apology making him roll his eyes.

“tch, what? you think a little apology is gonna change the fact you were all “buddy buddy” with mattsun? did you forget who fucking owns you little slut?” landing another harsh slap at your clit causing you cry in discomfort. everything around you made you feel light as if you were gonna pass out from the cruel words iwaizumi spoke to you. feeling helpless as there was no sign of your once loving boyfriend.

“maybe i should’ve invited him over, let him have a turn at ruining your slutty little cunt.”

Finally, having enough you cried out “r-red..” it was soft, gentle, easily could’ve been unheard if it wasn’t for how closely iwaizumi payed attention to you. he halted his thrusts pulling out of you completely, eyes draining of all lust and jealousy converting to concern mixed with regret. he rushed to put back his boxers on, cuddling you against his chest.

you didn’t push him away, no you could never. he was the man you loved and treasured more than anything. you were hurt obviously, but still wanted to seek his comfort.

“i-i dont like m-mattsun haji..i only like you..only you..” your voice sounding broken. he let out a deep sigh pulling you closer to kiss your head.

“i know baby i know... i was just jealous..you get along so well with mattsun i..went too far on you..i’m sorry you didn’t deserve that baby” his voice sounding faint but full of comfort.

“i just wanted to get t-to know him...i didn’t mean to make you mad haji..”

“i know baby shhh its okay now..i’m not mad anymore.”he cooed kissing you softly. you nodded letting your last set of tears fall onto his chest.

slowly shutting your eyes and falling asleep in the warmth of his chest.

him on the other hand was completely mortified at your sobbing accompanied with your sniffles it echoed through his ears replaying like a broken record each time the memory got to you saying your safeword.

“r-red..”

he never thought he’d reach that point for you to have to tell him that. he let out a few tears that night hating himself for hurting you. you forgave that very second he apologized but him on the other hand? he didn't..no he couldn’t.

let’s just say, he didn't get much sleep that weekend.

akaashis is long asf (im sorry i just love him sm) and iwaiuzmis is short but i love these boys sm.

i still am taking requests all links are above and down here. remember to drink water. oh and heres the m.sterlist in case you missed it <3♡

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colorseeingchick · 3 years

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Period Pains (Iwa, Suna, Bokuto)

Periods still stuck. Nothing has changed since part one. But these boys continue to comfort me when I feel like my heart, head, and stomach are going to explode :D. I hope they comfort you too!

A/N: It’s been rough homies. It really do be your own body that tries to attack you -_-.

Warnings: EMETOPHOBIA (in Suna’s there’s a semi detailed description of vomiting); swearing; foot massage in Bokuto’s (Ik that makes some people uncomfy); gym bros.

Iwaizumi Hajime

It was common knowledge that you and Iwaizumi were two halves of one insane power couple.

No questions asked, you both were generally independent when it came to taking care of your own matters, and you were both were pretty independent.

But there were exceptions- moments where you would both lean on each other, using the other as an anchor and a crutch to get back up and stay on your feet.

Your period was one of those times when times you needed your beloved boyfriend to play that role.

Today was one of those days.

You and Iwaizumi head over to the gym at around 6 am to get your early morning workout in before you go through with the rest of your day.

You had told Iwaizumi the night before, and he asked if you still wanted to “go gym” the next morning.

You said yes, hoping that a solid workout would help with some of the cramps.

And once you had got there, you had your hopes up.

The first half of your workout was going really well, and you hadn’t thought of your cramps at all.

But then it hit you while you were walking over to get your water bottle.

You didn’t know why, but the cramps hit you hard. Instantly you went to the bathroom to try and compose yourself, but that wasn’t really helping either.

You didn’t wanna bother Iwaizumi mid workout, so you tried to carry on.

Unfortunately, that didn’t work out too well.

As you tried to keep going, the cramps in your stomach got worse and worse, until you were pressing your stomach with your hands, curled over yourself on your yoga mat.

Taking deep breaths, you tried to relieve the only worsening cramps.

It wasn’t until a warm, firm hand caressed your back did you look up from your curled up form.

“1 to 10.” Iwaizumi asks you with a soft voice.

“4.” You say as you curl into yourself once more.

It was the pain ranking system that you’d both been using since early on in your relationship. You knew exactly what he meant, and you were honestly thankful that he understood you were in pain by just looking at you.

“Lying to me doesn’t do any good, ya know.” His words are harsh, yet the concern in his voice kills any intimidation that was supposed to come across.

“7.”

“Sounds right.” Iwa’s one arm wraps around you, digging into your side, his thumb massaging circles into the spot right above your left hip, while the other hand rubbed softer circles onto your lower belly.

You felt your muscles untense as his hands worked away at your cramping stomach with deep pressure only he had the strength to apply.

“What’s wrong with her?''

Both of you look up to see some guy (he seemed like a newbie, neither of you had seen him before) talking to your boyfriend.

“What.” Iwa’s voice is dry, in shock at the fact that this dude was in your business.

“Did she injure herself working out or something?” He asks, as if you were incapable of speaking for yourself. “Not being careful in the gym can be really dangerous, especially if you’re not trained.” He speaks in your direction this time.

Iwaizumi Hajime (27) ATHLETIC TRAINER, now looked like he was ready to commit murder.

Some of the regulars had now turned to watch, most giving the guy dirty looks.

A couple of you and Iwa’s closer gym bros step towards you both, making some preparations for Iwaizumi to swing.

But before anyone can really say anything, your voice cuts through.

“That’s real rich coming from you. The only thing that’s gonna cause an injury is your horrendous deadlift form.”

Your boyfriend goes from a state of shock into a fit of snickers, the guys on the side also amused. The guy in front of you goes completely red.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about you bi-”

“I actually think she’s right. I was a bit worried, too.” One of Iwa’s (very buff) friends stepped forward, smiling at you two before putting a hand a on the newbie’s shoulder. “Let’s go check it out.”

As you sigh out, your boyfriend stares at you with pride and amusement both bright in his eyes. “All that pain and you’re still able to come up with snarky comments.”

As his hand returns to soothing circular motions, you dig your face into his chest.

The soft touches from Iwa were enough to ease your pains, and allowed you to embrace your moment of vulnerability with your sweet boyfriend.

“Let’s dip and get food, okay? And you can just rest at home. You deserve a break.”

“Weren’t you saying something about how the grind doesn’t stop-”

“It stops when your health is on the line. Let’s go.”

Suna Rintarou

When it comes to you being on your period, Suna is by far the most hands off while simultaneously being the most attentive.

Suna wasn’t necessarily the biggest on PDA. But when it was just you two? He had no problem being all up against you.

The only situation Suna does not know how to navigate is when he can’t read someone’s moods or behaviors. Luckily for him, you were overly clear with his emotions and needs when you were on your period, even if those moods and needs were all over the place.

Early on, when you got together, he was a bit surprised to see how bad your period could get.

He’d walked in to your room one day to see you in a fetal position, rolling around on the floor.

He’d seen you go a full day of eating only junk food, upset and trying to satiate all your cravings.

He’d also seen you go without sleep because of how bad your cramps were.

Essentially, he’d learned you’d go through really bad health habits, and he’d assigned himself the roll of trying to make sure you maintained some regularity while on your period.

He was ready for anything, so ready that he made it look effortless.

When Suna came back from practice one day, he couldn't find you anywhere in your shared home. Which isn’t a problem, but he doesn’t recall you saying you were going anywhere....

It’s not till he lazily stalks over to the hallway and hears a horrible retching sound that he realizes you are still home.

Swinging the door open, he finds you perched over the toilet, vomiting in what looks to be a super painful manner.

“Rin...ta...r-oh fuck” you can barely get his name out before you start throwing up again.

Your boyfriend takes a step into the bathroom, but you toss an intense ‘no’ his way with your hand.

“It smells disgusting… and… I don’t want to be smothered right now…” you sigh as you breathe between your bouts of vomiting.

He takes a deep breath, recomposing himself. He knows your period can get pretty bad, but he hasn’t seen it get this bad in a while. He obliges, but he doesn’t move from the doorway.

As you start your next fit, Suna’s face remains blank, but his heart twists.

He slowly approaches you, kneeling beside you.

“I said to not.. To smother me....” your protest is weakened by your body inhibiting your ability to speak.

Suna keeps a bit of space between you two, but he gently grabs your hair, pulling strand by strand, until its completely out of your face

(alternatively, if you have short hair), Suna keeps a bit of space between you two, but he lets his hand gently rest on your back, rubbing in soothing circles .

Your hand goes up to push him away, but he grabs your fist with his larger hand, weaving his fingers with yours, rubbing his thumb into the back of your hand.

“I won’t smother, don’t worry. But I’m gonna be here.” He’s soft in his tone, unfazed despite the relative unpleasantness of the situation.

As you finally stop, you fall back, your hands covering your eyes.

As you lean back, your body giving out, your head finds its way onto the plush chest of your green eyed boyfriend. He doesn’t touch you, but just acts as a makeshift couch for you to lean on.

“Rintarou.” “

Yeah?”

“I need your touch.”

Your words are blunt but effortlessly received as your boyfriend instinctively wraps his arms around you, languidly stroking your thigh with one hand and holding your stomach with the other. He adjusts you so that you’re pressed up against him.

“Better, babe?” he asks as he backs up into the wall, loosening up as you relax against him.

“Mmm.” You croon, sinking down against him. “I should brush my teeth, I’m sorry you came back to this.”

“It’s fine. Get cleaned up. Wanna watch movies? I got Chinese takeout.”

“I don’t want Chinese,” you comment.

“What do you want?”

“Pizza.”

“...”

He sighs. “I’ll be back in 20.”

“I love you.” you smile at him as you tell him what he already knows.

He presses his nose into your hair, letting your conditioner’s scent fill his nose. “Mmm… and I love you.”

“How much?” You ask.

“How much do I what?”

“How much do you love me?”

“Enough to get you pizza at 10 pm in the pouring rain.”

“It’s raining??”

“Yeah.”

“...Nevermind I don’t want pizza anymore.”

“Well I want pizza now so I’m going.” He pulls himself up and out of the bathroom despite the way you tried to cling to his leg to keep him from leaving.

“Rin!”

Bokuto Koutarou

Bokuto is honestly the ideal boyfriend, especially when you are on your period.

Early in your relationship, when you got on your period, you didn’t tell Bo. But he ended up learning the hard way.

He’d come back from practice a bit later than usual and didn’t text you. Usually he didn’t, especially if he knew he’d only be a little late. But when he walked through the doors, instead of finding his usually happy, bubbly girlfriend who usually showered him with love, he was greeted with you crying.

“W-why didn’t-t you text me, Kou? Do you-u not care about me?”

He had nooo idea what was going on, and he was very panicked and sad.

He felt like the rug was pulled out from under him when you proceeded to snuggle into his chest 2 minutes later, cries completely stopped. His little owl eyes were wide open and very confused.

2 days later, he asked about the situation again, scared to bring it up.

But you were really embarrassed as you explained how you were on your period and could get extreme mood swings. You apologized and promised that you’d never do something wild like that again.

But Bo wasn’t content with your answer.

He went and asked Akaashi if he knew anything about what periods were like (he was shy to ask you).

Akaashi found the lovely statistic of “period pain being of equal pain levels of a heart attack” and Bokuto lost his shit. “

I’ve never had a heart attack, but they kill people! And they go for the hospital for those! And she apologized for being a little emotional… that doesn’t seem right, right Kaashi?”

Akaashi agrees, of course. And sends Bokuto off with the advice of “she’s always there for you. All you have to do is be there for her.”

When the next time you had your period rolled around, and you found yourself a little emotional, you did your best to control it. But Bokuto was having none of it.

“Baby, you don’t have to hide it! You can be emotional!! I don’t mind. You always help me when I’m emotional! I can do the same for you. I’ll take the best care of you, I promise!”

You would honestly call it a turning point in your relationship, cause this was when you learned to start really depending on Bo. And you realized just how dependable he could really be.

When Bokuto comes back from practice today, he finds you splayed out on the couch, koala-hugging a pillow, whimpering a “welcome home” between grunts of pain.

Bokuto stays quiet as he walks up to the couch, dipping down to place a kiss on your cheek before stripping his sweaty t-shirt off as he walks off to take a shower.

Once he comes out, fresh and clean, he throws on a comfortable t-shirt and shorts before coming back to find you on the couch.

He grabs your legs, pulls them up, sits down, and then places them in his lap. “Baby, do you want a massage? I can press your legs.”

“You don’t have to, Kou, it’s okay.”

“I want to!” He cheers back as he starts to knead at your calves, moving down to your feet and slowly pressing over your socks.

You sigh and huff, slowly relaxing as the soothing feeling of the pressure applied to your feet counteracts the pain you felt in your lower abdomen.

While Bokuto concentrates intensely on massaging your calves again, he perks up at the sound of a sniffle.

Swinging his head, he sees you slowly dissolving into sobs.

Panicked, he slides your legs onto the couch and comes by your face.

“Baby, did I press too hard? Did I hurt you? Please tell me.”

“No, no, Kou, you’re fine. I’m just- I’m so lucky and blessed to have such a loving amazing boyfriend~” you get the words out as tears stream down your face, turning to look him in his big, gorgeous, gold eyes. “I don’t deserve you, my love.”

Now, for reasons unknown, Bokuto finds himself crying as well.

“Why are you crying!” You cry and laugh out at the same time.

“Because I have such a sweet girlfriend who always showers me in love! Don’t say I don’t deserve you. You’re perfect for me.”

Cheesy as the exchange was, it was really soft for you. Because you knew Bokuto, and you knew he meant every word exactly as is from the bottom of his heart.

Crying while your laughs got lighter, you pull him in and kiss him all over his face.

He laughs too, and holds your face as he pulls away, swiping the tears from under your eyes. “Your turn!!”

After smothering you with kisses, he picks you up and carries you to your shared bedroom, so he can love on you more, with enough space for both of you to lay next each other and peacefully drift off to sleep.

A/N: Gym guys who don’t mind their business seriously bother me. I hope you all enjoyed! Requests and commentary are greatly appreciated :D

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chocosvt · 4 years

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⚬ pairing: joshua x reader ⚬ word count: 5040 ⚬ warnings: mentions of alcohol ⚬ genres: FLUFF, shallow angst, guitarist/bandmate!joshua, some annoying neighbour tropes, a little bit of pining, wintery pizzazz, joshua is a hopeless romantic :(

✧✎ synopsis: somebody new just moved into the upstairs apartment. they’re loud, irritatingly sweet, and unfortunately, very pretty. but you’re not looking for a new relationship, even if it comes in the form of joshua hong.

✧✎ a/n: oooUUooouu YES! this is a gift to my lovely secret santa, @luvshuas !! ♡ in my first ask, i learned that dani liked using paint by numbers, AND I THOUGHT THAT WAS ADORABLE so i helped use it to create this fic! dani, you are such a joy to talk to AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS XOXOXO !! :D

Last week, someone new had moved into the empty apartment one floor above yours. You didn’t know who. Not their name, not their face, just that they occupied the once vacant space of room 24D. Supposedly, their next-door neighbours had already brought them some housewarming gifts. A watering can filled with flowers, a wreath of white candles, and an old sewing tin now converted into a container for oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.

All closely resembling the gifts you received during your first week at the apartment complex. It made sense though, considering most rooms were home to very elderly couples. At first, you planned a brief gap in your day to visit this stranger and welcome them to such a small complex. Find out if they were old or young, endearing or irritable, sensible or flat out crazy. But you never visited room 24D, because you were currently in a moat about your ex-partner.

An extremely deep, inescapable moat.

Not only had they broken up with you on the day you planned to introduce them to your parents, they decided it would be most efficient to do so through a stupid text message. From Monday to Friday, you’d been moping in a curled-up ball on the couch, blowing into tissues and flicking through the holiday romcoms even though they were all so cookie-cutter and dull. To make matters worse, it had been snowing all week, shutting you indoors as a draft built up outside the windowsills.

You had completely forgot about the newbie who’d just moved in upstairs. Until one day, when they decided to make their presence known in the most jarring way possible.

That particular morning, you were finally feeling stable enough to not eat dry, stale cereal straight from the box. You were feeling well enough to avoid another twelve hours moulding into the couch. While a cold wind blew against the windows and rattled the glass, you poured yourself some tea with the new teapot your mother parceled as an early present. And that’s when you heard it: an eruption of electric sound from the floor directly above yours. It sounded like a guitar, if that guitar were plugged into a massive amp and its chords were being plucked by one thousand fingers.

Coincidentally, you spilt tea, scalding and runny, all over the countertop. It started dribbling down your cupboards and creating blotches on the tiled flooring. At random, the sound stopped.

By lunchtime you were unwinding in the shower, your eyes shut as the water poured onto your face and streamed toward the drain. When you squeezed out some shampoo onto your fingers, you heard the chord progression again. This time louder, if that was even possible. The bottle flung from your wet hands and crashed against the floor, startling you half to death, a trail of wasted shampoo then painted to the wall. But the sound didn’t stop immediately. Unlike last time, the stranger railed on their guitar for half an hour at least.

Yet the last straw didn’t come until evening.

Sitting at the kitchen table with a water jar next to your elbow, you were using your new paint by numbers kit. You had been waiting all day to try it, brushing in the mesmerizing colours of a watery-purple landscape. For the last time that day, you were jolted by the riff of an electric guitar, causing you to jerk a huge, thick streak of black paint right across the paper, effectively ruining it. How horrible. How Terrible.

And you were not going to let the incident slide.

Room 24D.

The room directly above yours. After banging your fist rather inhospitably against the door, you couldn’t lie that the face which greeted you was a definite shock. A young man probably in his early twenties, with curly, brown hair styled neatly yet in disarray, and these wide, glass-like eyes that felt so penetrating you were afraid to glare him down. In fact, you were a bit nervous.

“I don’t know where you stayed at last, b-but at this complex, people don’t usually slam on their electric guitars.”

But so what if you were nervous? You had grown accustomed to sharing this complex with seniors. The thought of someone this young (and admittedly – quite beautiful) had somewhat stunted your brain. The stranger looked at you as though he had nothing to say. He started bobbing his head and shrugged.

“Yeah, well, I’m guessing it doesn’t happen ‘cause everyone here is over seventy and crochets scarves until bedtime. It’s not my fault you’re the only one who’s still got decent hearing.”

Your eyes narrowed; your brow heavily creased.

“What’s your name?” You asked.

He hesitated at first, then replied, “Joshua.”

“Okay, Joshua, I’d rather have everyone in this building crocheting scarves out the damn window if it meant not listening to a stupid electric guitar all day. You ruined my paint by numbers kit.”

Joshua laughed. “Your what?” He then flashed a grin which suggested he was holding back a satirical comment.

“My paint by numbers kit!” You repeated, feeling your nervousness dissolve into irritation. “It’s ruined, and I’m blaming it on you because it’s your fault. My whole week has been awful and you just made it even worse. So there. I hope you’re happy.”

For some reason, Joshua leaned his shoulder against the doorframe like someone who had all the time in the world. He appeared way too comfortable. Something about it irked you while simultaneously pulling this weird, fuzzy string in your chest. The boy folded his arms and raised a curious eyebrow.

“Why was your week awful?” He questioned.

There was a sweetness to his voice which hadn’t been there before, and you absolutely weren’t going to fall for it, even if it sounded like he ate a spoonful of honey and might taste just as good.

“No. Forget it,” you sighed, waving a dismissive hand, “I said what I had to say. Just be quieter, please.”

You turned around sharply, making your way toward the elevator based at the end of the corridor. Those magnetic eyes of his seemed to be glued to your backside, an almost palpable feeling.

“Okay!” He called out. “Great chat! Nice to meet you too!”

The boy was being wholly sarcastic of course. After returning to your apartment, you cleaned up the kitchen table, sweeping away your paint by numbers kit into a drawer just in case you were one day struck with the motivation to fix it up. Probably not.

“Uh—excuse me? You called me, remember? So don’t go shifting the fault like always. I just can’t believe how immature you are! And, you know what, I’m hanging up now! Don’t call back!”

Smashing your finger against the phone screen, you ended the call, silencing the aggravated voice that had pounded through the line just a second before. An unfortunate misdial resulted in your ex phoning you at the supermarket. The interaction immediately turned south, prompting you to hurry outside into the snow, wedging the brown paper bag of produce underneath your arm and against your chest, all while you barked into the phone with the other hand.

Snowflakes were brimming the edge of your wool hat; your fingertips numb and stiff. Your pacing, impatient footsteps were stamped across the white ground. Things had been difficult enough without your ex invading even the most boring parts of your life, and now a mundane stop at the market had left you intensely unsettled.

As you huffed a web of your breath into the air, you spotted something unexpected: Joshua helping Mrs. Akané load the groceries into her small silver-bullet car. She lived alone on the bottom floor of the apartment complex, one of the kindest old ladies in the whole building. Every winter she had knitted you a pink pair of mittens. When Joshua opened the car door for her, she gave him a gentle pat on his shoulder and her patented rosy-cheeked smile.

Since you scorned him for his abrasive guitar playing, it only happened less often, though it was never any quieter. You realized that he belonged in a band. From time to time they would take the stage at the downtown bar, engendering a space so packed it was nearly impossible to wriggle to the counter for a quick drink. Joshua invited you to his Friday night gig – which was tonight – and while you had contemplated the decision to attend, the disheartening encounter with your ex had officially soiled the mood.

Joshua noticed you, probably looking cold and mad.

“So,” he began, “are you coming tonight?”

Adjusting the groceries underneath your arm, you shrugged, meanwhile the hollow nature of your eyes screamed a blatant no. If anything, you wanted to be back on that living room couch, eating an entire tray of frosted shortbread cookies and dabbing at your tears.

“Seriously?” Joshua frowned. “You’re gonna pass? It is ‘cause you’re still mad about the guitar playing? I’m sorry, okay.”

“No,” you shook your head, “no, no. It’s not because of your disruptive, loud guitar playing. I’m just not having a good day.”

Bits of snow began to powder Joshua’s brown hair. His cheeks were blushed and his nose rosy.

“No offense,” the boy laughed, “but it seems like you’re never having a good day.” He then shook his head, scattering the snowflakes from between the fibres of his hair. “How about you come to our little concert shindig thing, listen to our set – which is great, I promise – then we can talk about it, back at my place.”

For a moment, you paused, and this perplexed expression briefly eclipsed your features. Did he just subtly attempt to persuade you into some sort of… Date? No, it was too soon for anything like that. He was probably joking anyways (despite his straight face).

“I don’t know… I’m tired. Maybe another time.”

You started carrying the brown bag of produce to your car, parked just down the street. Joshua chuckled and tagged along at your side, the snow crunching softly under your feet.

“When’s another time?” He asked.

Throwing open the car door and sliding the bag inside, you sighed. “Another time is another time. It’s self-explanatory.”

“So you’re not coming?” Joshua questioned in finality.

“No.” You replied, rubbing your cold fingers together, attempting to spark some warmth. “I’m not.”

It was then that Joshua took your hands in his, a gesture that completely flicked you off your axis, and started to squeeze them, kneading your skin with his thumbs until you felt the uncomfortable stiffness gradually wear off. He brought your hands close to his face, pursed his pink, very pretty lips, and started to blow on them. A sensation fizzled to life in your lower tummy. Not only were you heating up significantly, but you felt too hot. Scary hot.

“That’s a shame.” Joshua said, releasing your hands carefully, like he’d just touched gold. “But I can wait for another time.”

You couldn’t sleep that night.

Most likely because you were regretting the decision to not attend Joshua’s gig at the bar. The fact that no matter how hard you pushed, memories of your past relationship would still linger like a heavy mist, preventing you from being happy, from detaching, from forming new connections. Wet drops of snow tapped against your window. And then, at around one in the morning, you heard a knock at your apartment door.

Joshua. Evidently intoxicated. His guitar case slung over his back. A foggy sort of look disrupting his usual countenance.

“Hey there,” he mumbled, rubbing at his eye, “couldn’t get into my room. Think I could crash—” the boy stopped midsentence to yawn and hiccup, his face flushed pink, “crash here?”

“Did you walk home from the bar?” You asked, disregarding his inquiry.

“No, Jihoon drove me.” Joshua answered, bracing his hand against the threshold. “Pretty please? Can I stay?”

“Fine.”

You took the dark green guitar case from Joshua’s back, stamped with numerous luggage stickers that made it seem as though he’d flown all over the globe. After settling the case beside the couch, you helped Joshua lie down, though he flopped rather ungracefully with his face squished into a pillow.

For an awkward moment, you were just standing there, twiddling your thumbs as Joshua squirmed onto his back.

“Do you want a glass of water?” You proposed.

Joshua carded a hand through his brown locks and further dishevelled them. His face seemed to glow and the manner in which his eyes softly shut had you feeling oddly sympathetic. Like you needed to take care of him.

Rather than answering your question, Joshua sighed.

“I can’t believe you flaked on me.” He said. “I looked forward to seeing you there all week. I told my friends about you.”

Your toes dug into the carpet; teeth fastened into your bottom lip. You couldn’t tell if he was rambling drunken nonsense or being wholly truthful. Joshua titled his head to the side, nestling his cheek comfortably against the pillow.

“Like I said, there’ll be another time.”

“Can I have a blanket?” He mumbled sleepily.

Disappearing into your bedroom for a moment, you grabbed Joshua a spare blanket which often lied next to you on the bed, just in case it got a little too cold at night. Your heating was fairly shabby.

“Here you go.” You said, dropping it on him.

After pulling the fabric up to his chin and spending a minute getting comfy, Joshua started smiling, lashes long against his cheeks.

“Appreciate it.” He replied. ”Kick me out early if you want.”

When Joshua scheduled his next gig at the bar, you made sure to be there, settled near the back at the cocktail counter. As you anticipated, the space filled up quickly, and you kept tucking in your legs whenever someone scooted by to use the washroom or find a better vantage point. You didn’t mention that you were coming. It was supposed to be a surprise which had oddly excited you. Like you were someone important to him, even though you probably weren’t.

You enjoyed his band’s performance. While sipping at something syrupy and a little too cherry flavoured, you couldn’t help but smile behind the glass, shake your foot even, as Joshua strummed down on the electric guitar. There was a pink-haired drummer seated behind him, and a bassist with a dashing, heavenly smile. Eventually, the tone of their music shifted near the end of the set. Joshua exchanged his electric guitar for the acoustic one kept in that dark green, stickered case. And when he started to sing a slower, more sentimental song, you felt something cotton-like in your chest.

How could his voice be this soft? How could it turn so sweet? How could his eyes switch from a powerful ripple to calm water? And why were you heating up all over? The glass hit your knee as you continued to watch Joshua sing, as though you’d fallen into a trance, like a sailor caught by the lullaby of a siren.

But then, as your eyes scanned the crowd for a brief moment, they attached to some who looked awfully familiar.

Goddammit. Of course.

Why did your stupid ex have to be everywhere?

Why did they have to invade every aspect of your life? Especially the enjoyable parts? Once the stage ended and Joshua began thanking the crowd for an energetic reaction, they turned around and grabbed their friend excitedly. Yet, the thrill on their face disappeared the second they noticed you, glaring bitterly, angrily, still clearly hurt. That’s when you decided to leave.

You were halfway down the block when you heard your name being shouted. Pausing beneath a street lamp, you attempted to peer through the heavy flurries sweeping down from the night sky. A silhouette began to take shape. Joshua finally pressed through into the light, without his jacket, his equipment, or even a damn sweater.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” You questioned him, wondering how cold he must be feeling in that white t-shirt.

Joshua took a few more steps forward. “I saw you there,” he replied, still trying to catch his breath, “but then you just stormed out. I nearly threw myself down the back entrance trying to catch up with you, y’know. How do you walk that damn fast?”

“I just—I wanted to beat the crowd home.” You lied.

Joshua took in another big breath, then nodded his head. “So, what did you think? You like the music?”

“It’s cool… Why did you leave without a jacket? I mean, it’s snowing like crazy. You’re gonna get hypothermia or something.”

“Well, I didn’t want to let you get away.” The boy laughed, brushing off some flurries compiling on his shoulder. “It was great to see you there. But, why didn’t you tell me? Why the secrecy.”

You shrugged. “Why should I tell you?”

At that, you weren’t expecting Joshua to have a response. Maybe he’d be a little puzzled and have to think about it. Instead, he seemed to be formulating a surprise of his own.

“Because I have a song for you,” Joshua revealed, “I wrote it with Jihoon. It’s an acoustic thing. But I could turn it hard rock too.”

It felt like someone had turned the table. Ironically, you were the one struggling to reply, your brow furrowing in the dim light as you stared at this boy with his glowing cheeks and his hair disrupted by the flakes of snow. You sniffled, cold air hitting your lungs.

“Why would you write a song about me?”

No one had ever done such a gesture for you before. Not that you had been acquainted with many musicians or lyricists. You felt strange, but also warm, and heart-fluttery, and like you were possibly falling for someone harder than ever before. Joshua approached you tentatively and grabbed your hand, his eyes soft.

“Probably because I like you.” Joshua murmured. “A lot.”

Your heart started to pound, and it felt like someone was banging their fists against your chest. Even if you had denied it in the beginning, the truth was that you liked Joshua too. And yet, those reciprocating words somehow fell to the bottom of your feet. Because as much as you wanted it, you still weren’t ready for someone new.

“Joshua…” you squeezed his hand and looked into those endearing eyes of his, “I-I can’t right now. I was in a relationship not too long ago, and now that’s over, but I’m still trying to get over it. I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

The boy shook his head. “You don’t have to be sorry.” Joshua answered, running his thumb between your knuckles. “You’re not ready, I get it.”

Breathing out slowly, you smiled at him.

You were yanking open all the drawers in the kitchen, trying to remember where exactly you had stuck that little metal whisk. A bowl of unmixed cupcake batter was waiting to be stirred. Each year that it was open, you signed up for the Complex Gift Exchange, and it just so happened that sixty-five-year-old Miss Dupont really liked vanilla cupcakes. You pulled out the drawer that had been hiding the ruined, stained paper courtesy of your paint by numbers kit.

Rolling your eyes, you slammed it shut, only to realize you’d left the whisk sitting behind the big bag of flour on the counter.

Even though you had turned down Joshua that one night in the snow, he didn’t act spiteful or weird about it. And somehow, you two had grown closer since. Joshua was very easy to talk to. He was a good listener. No matter how many times you ran into each other on the elevator, or at the supermarket, the letter boxes in the lobby or at the car lot, Joshua always made time to listen to whatever mishap had bothered you that day. He still railed on his electric guitar every now and then, though you were beginning to accept it. Baby steps.

Apparently, one of his bandmates was visiting today.

You knew exactly when he’d arrived too, because as soon as you pulled the cupcakes out from the oven to cool, this wave of intense sound; drumming, symbols, guitar, everything, exploded from the floor above, like someone had just thrown a clump of instruments into a hurricane. You stared up at the ceiling winsomely and sighed.

Dressed in a long, thick winter coat, you went outside the complex to visit the garden, now blanketed by snow and sparkling white. You brushed off the bench that had once sat before a fiery pink row of petunias and took a seat. It was much quieter.

“Hey!”

Or so you thought.

Turning around, you gazed up at the apartment complex, spotting two familiar faces hanging out from a fourth story window.

“What?!” You shouted back.

Joshua grinned, then cupped his hands around his mouth as an amplifier. “Were we being too loud?!” He asked.

“Yeah!” His friend yelled. “Were we too loud?!” You had learned the other face was Jihoon, the band drummer, his hair now a rusty shade of crimson. He helped write most of their music.

“No, I’m just sitting out here in the wind and snow and below zero temperatures because I want to!” You replied at the top of your lungs.

Waving at you apologetically, Joshua kept smiling. “Sorry! I’m gonna kick him out soon!” He pointed at Jihoon. “If you want, you can come up here and listen to our last rehearsal!”

Jihoon shoved Joshua’s head out of the way.

“Don’t come up here!” The drummer exclaimed. “It’s not even close to ready yet. He’s just saying that because he’s in—”

A hand clamped swiftly to the boy’s mouth, muffling the remainder of his sentence like it was top secret. Joshua then dragged him away from the open window. Quirking an eyebrow in confusion, you stared at the vacant space until Joshua reappeared a moment later, scratching the back of his head and looking sheepish.

“Sorry about that!” Joshua called. “We’re almost done!”

“I’m in no rush!” You answered, turning back around.

It was true. There weren’t too many pressing things you needed to get done today, besides making the buttercream frosting for Miss Dupont’s cupcakes. The weather wasn’t even as terrible as you made it seem. The wind was light, and the shining sun helped mitigate the usual bitterness of winter. It was quite nice out.

Until about ten minutes later, when Joshua threw a snowball at your back. You spun around quickly, glaring at the boy who was dusting his hands clean of snow, standing near the complex doorway. In that moment, you wanted to be angry at him. But, to be honest, you felt like laughing instead.

“Shouldn’t I be the one throwing snowballs at you?”

Joshua shrugged. “If you could even hit me.”

“Keep your eyes open tonight, Joshua Hong.” You comically threatened him. “Where are you going, anyways?”

“I have to get my person a gift for the exchange thing.” He said, pulling a hat over his hair. “And a new guitar pick.”

“Have fun with that.”

Then, waiting for him to turn around, you hastily packed together a snowball and threw it against the back of his coat.

Miss Dupont somehow figured out who was responsible for her gift. She asked you to give her the cupcakes early, because she swore, she was had been able to smell them baking through the air ducts. Maybe you added too much vanilla. Everyone was supposed to exchange their gifts tomorrow, leaving them by the door or delivering them in person. You didn’t have a clue as to who could be preparing your gift. As long as it wasn’t another candle wreath to collect dust in your closet, you figured you’d be fine with it.

Tonight would be your last opportunity in a long while to watch Joshua’s band perform at the downtown bar. You’d missed their last show, ruminating over the possibility of encountering your ex again; feeling those horrible emotions which were nothing more than poison in disguise. After the New Year, Joshua was planning to visit South Korea with his bandmates for a few weeks. It would be awfully strange to not hear another symphony from his electric guitar, or Jihoon’s drumkit. Jeonghan never really stopped by much.

It was at least an hour or so before Joshua was scheduled to perform. So, you decided to walk down the street to the lane of trees now wrapped and curled with lights. There were small, twinkling white lights. Large, blue lights shaped like hanging icicles. Some blinked in a specific pattern while others morphed colours. At night, it made quite the spectacle. Many people had stopped, much like yourself, to admire the aurora and pull their significant other a little bit closer. You huffed, hating this lonesomeness inside you.

But then you felt a quick pair of fingers dance up your back, and immediately recognized his eyes shining like stars.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you at the lights.” Joshua remarked, zipping up his jacket. “They’ve been up for a while now.”

“It’s always a magnet for couples.” You told him, glancing around at all the handholding and heads leaned adoringly on shoulders. “And I am—well, I was, standing here alone.” Inside your coat pocket, you played with a piece of lint, realizing that perhaps you finally felt ready and significantly healed to consider another relationship.

Looking at you from the corner of his eye, Joshua nodded.

It seemed as though the lights were a place he visited frequently, even amongst all the couples. To you, Joshua seemed like someone who was inspired by love. The not so subtle nature of awkward yet enamored eye contact which made people giggly. Holding onto the very tips of someone’s fingers because you couldn’t let go of their hand even for a second. Pressing an ear to a comfortable chest, listening for a rhythmic, thumping heartbeat. You bet he liked kisses too. Quick kisses on cheeks and gentle kisses on noses and slow, warm kisses to the mouth which could set a fire in your belly.

Out of the blue, you asked him something personal.

“How fast do you usually fall for someone?”

Joshua’s eyes traced the twinkling lights of the tree, all the way to the very top.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I’ve never thought about it.”

Kicking at a lump of hard snow, you sighed. “I think I fall too quickly. Maybe that’s why my last relationship ended the way it did. I just… I don’t know, it could be that I jumped in without knowing what’s beneath me. I don’t want that to happen again.”

The boy glanced at you, snowflakes already beginning to stick in his hair. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with taking things slow. I mean, there’s always going to be some chance in a relationship. You don’t know until you’re in it.”

“I guess so.” You replied. “When I think about it, anything’s better than getting text message-dumped right before a family dinner.” Joshua wasn’t a stranger to the humiliating affairs of your past relationship. One night, after one too many beverages at the bar, you introduced him to the entire story.

“Bad luck.” The boy said.

“Bad taste, more like.” You sighed. “I mean, what was I thinking?”

Joshua shook his head, his hand rubbing your shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up. Seriously, the right person will come along.”

Short laughter burst through your nose, and you looked at him with a knowing, lighthearted grin. “Are you supposed to be that person, Joshua Hong?”

“I’d like to think I am.” He chuckled, his cheeks getting rosier. “But I know you’re not ready. I can be patient, though.”

“So, you’re going to wait for me?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Joshua nodded. “For you, and you only? Of course.”

At that, something deep in your chest began to stir. The feeling robbed you of your words and left you breathless. Afraid of what you might do in the silence between you, quickly, you changed the subject.

“Am I going to hear that special song you wrote? Or have you scrapped it already?”

“You’ll hear it.” Joshua said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out an ivory guitar pick. “Save your applause for the very end, though. I know you might be tempted to start cheering, come up on stage in front of everyone and try to kiss me or something.”

Rolling your eyes, you started to laugh, your breath becoming a thin cloud in the still coldness of winter.

“You wish, Joshua Hong.”

He sighed, a faint smirk on his lips. “You’re right. I do.”

At approximately five o’clock in the morning, you were awakened by a fist banging at your front door. For a moment, you believed it was nothing more than part of a fuzzy dream, and simply tossed over in bed as your arms dug further under the pillow. However, the banging resumed almost instantly, and though it was very muffled, someone was calling your name.

Groaning, you dragged yourself from between the sheets and into the washroom, taking a quick sip of water before splashing some to your face. In a loose pair of shorts and a poorly adjusted tank-top, you stumbled to the front door, throwing it open while yawning.

“J-Joshua?” You mumbled, rubbing circles to your eye.

He stood on the opposite side of the threshold with a glimmery-red gift bag in his hand. For some reason, he was dressed in his jacket, those dark brown locks of his seeming damp or partly soaking as they were brushed back from his forehead. His cheeks and mouth were rosy, eyes glistering, and he was breathing deep.

You thought he looked gorgeous.

“Hey!” He exclaimed a little too loudly, as though he’d forgotten how early it was. “So, uh, weird news. Turns out we’re leaving for South Korea today, and we have to catch this seven-am flight. We’re kinda pressed for time. Jeonghan’s been helping me throw all my shit into these suitcases and—anyways, besides the point.” Taking in another breath, Joshua then held up the pretty red gift bag. “I got you for the Gift Exchange. Well—not really. But I made Mrs. Akané switch with me. This is for you.”

The sudden splurge of information had for feeling even more disorientated than when you first awakened. Joshua had to leave already? Had he been packing ever since you walked home together from his show? He pulled strings to get you for the Gift Exchange?

Reaching into the bag and pushing around some tissue paper, you pulled out a rectangular-shaped kit. It felt fairly heavy.

And then you realized just what he’d gotten you.

“Really?” You smiled, letting the bag drop to the floor because all you cared about was the project in your hands. “Another paint by numbers kit? I didn’t even know they sold these here!”

Joshua nodded, brushing some melted drops of snow off his cheek. “It wouldn’t have arrived on time if I ordered it online. Trust me, it was a process. I had to get Jeonghan’s grandma to make some calls because she’s friends with this craft store lady.” He half-sighed, half-laughed. “I just remembered you were so upset about it when I met you. About a lot of things. And I never stopped feeling sorry. I know I laughed at it and everything, but I thought it was cute.”

You brought the project to sit on the dinner table. Looking outside into the street light, you were shocked at how heavily it was snowing. Huge, fluffy clumps. No wonder Joshua’s hair was so damp and his skin so flushed. You couldn’t believe that just a few hours ago, you were sitting on that barstool near the back of the dim room, listening to him sing and feeling like you were starting to love all over again. Now, Joshua was being whisked away.

“I should really get going.” Joshua said, rubbing his pink nose, “Jeonghan and Jihoon are waiting for me down there.”

“W-Wait!” You exclaimed before the boy could disappear.

Joshua paused, though you could read the look of urgence coloured to his face. It was merely a few seconds you stood in that spot, fiddling anxiously with your fingers and struggling to take another step, yet it felt as though time had stretched itself out like plasticine.

And even though it was slightly terrifying, you had never felt so warm and full of thrill until you had crossed the space to kiss him. Your hands pushed against Joshua’s chest, searching for stability, as you experienced the soft sensation of your lips pressed so desperately to his. Joshua grabbed your cheek in his cold hand to tilt your head a little more left. He stared at you with a hazy, sort of dreamlike look, just for a moment, before kissing you again.

“Am I making you late?” You laughed breathily in between the heated breadth of another kiss.

Joshua shook his head, taking your face in both his hands, moulding his mouth against yours in a smile.

“They can wait just a minute longer,” he answered, “I can’t believe you’re doing this right when I have to leave. You’re really screwing me over, here.”

“Then finish it when you get back.” You smirked.

This time, you were certain of something: you hadn’t jumped too soon. You weren’t going to crash. You were falling in love.

✧✎ a/n: the end the end!! happy holidays !! <3 honestly think it’s kind of the dream to get joshua as ur apartment neighbour xoxo. HOPE U LIKED THIS DANI AND THAT IT GAVE YOU SOME SMILES heheh. i actually haven’t written for joshua in quite a while so i rly appreciated getting to experiment with this. i also love the idea of joshua in a band and being a sappy romantic who always writes abt his future muse ;_; i’m not a huge fluff person BUT I WILL GLADLY GIVE UP EVERYTHING FOR THAT!

#caratwritersclub #joshua scenarios #seventeen scenarios #svt fanfic #joshua fanfic #joshua hong #seventeen fanfic #svt fluff #joshua fluff #svt x reader #joshua x reader

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it-was-summer · 4 years

Text

Video Killed The Radio Star - Chapter 2 (Spencer Reid x Reader)

A/N: I’ve gotten so much positive feedback and a lot of people seem to like so I am so happy to share another chapter with you all! In this chapter I will put Asterisks (***) before anything that might seem triggering to some viewers just to give you all a heads up! I would also like to add that virginity is a concept made by man and if you are/aren’t one that is valid as hell!- much love, Em❤️

Warnings: torture, blood, cursing, distributing individual / content, sex talk, sensitive material ahead.

Plot: The team works to find you before the situation escalates, you spend time in a less fiery version of hell.

Word Count: 2.2k

“This girl made my job easier,” Garcia was logging into your computer with a smile “, It was never difficult, but now I get to skip a few tiny steps.” She was searching through your emails, looking for any messages that could have been from your stalker, there was nothing so far. So she moved to your phone records, unknown calls, texts, anything that could help.

She did find one call from an unknown number that had left a voicemail a few minutes before two in the morning on the night of your abduction, but the only thing that she could get from it was the sounds of sobs before the line goes dead.

The rest of the team was combing your apartment in Richmond. The most impressive thing about this whole case was how you knew something was going to happen and the evidence you left behind for them. Sticky notes decorated your desk, labeling everything from your passwords to the gifts your stalker had left you. Another thing that shocked the team was seeing photos of almost all of them, you didn’t get one of Garcia, with little sticky notes next to them.

The sticky notes contained little comments like “Fine as hell,” that one was for Reid, Morgan teased him about it before he looked at his own picture that had the note of “Arms?? Yes?”

It seemed like you had a sense of humor that you didn’t let on in your videos. It made Prentiss laugh, but as soon as she did her eyes looked down at the carpet, seeing a single rose petal near your nightstand. Instead of being red like all of the others, it was the pale color of pink. “It looks like the Unsub is in love with her,” she bent down to pick up the petal with a glove “, or whatever their demented version of love is.”

Reid was focusing on the books, you had a tiny library growing at your house filled with classics, some fiction, others nonfiction. He took note that you already had copies of the Brontë sister collection in your library, and they looked slightly worn down. He couldn’t help but wonder why the Unsub would give you books you already owned. Was it just for their notes? Why couldn’t they use the copies you already own?

Hotch tore Spencer away from his thoughts “The bed was neatly made and there are no signs of struggle, indicating that our Unsub probably made the bed and had time to clean up.”

“Or that she was too afraid to sleep, either way, they probably drugged her and got her out of here as fast as they could,” Prentiss added as she searched the bed for any other evidence.

Reid hummed as he watched Prentiss flip pillows over “It could have been someone she knew, a friend maybe?”

“We can’t rule out anything.” Hotch said as he looked at his wrist for the time “Ried, go with Morgan to the library. Prentiss and I will visit the family.”

***

March 6, 20XX

The night of your abduction you were sitting on your couch, holding one of the decorative pillows close to your chest as you watched the black screen of your television. You felt numb, after you recorded your video you broke down. It started off as crying and then slowly developed into a panic attack, but now you were on your couch trying to think about anything but this horrible situation. You glanced over at the time seeing it was nearing two in the morning, you had already called your mother. She told you to come home and you said you would in the morning.

You couldn’t think about her right now, you started to cry, finding it surprising that you still had enough water in your body to cry again. Sobs escaped your mouth, then something pricked your neck and the world was gone.

When you woke up it all felt so soft. You felt like you were laying on the softest bed ever created, your eyes fought against you, opening slowly in fluttering moments. The room was illuminated in a wondrous pink light, you smiled in your drugged state before it all registered. You suddenly felt hot, on fire, everything was on fire. You attempted to sit up on the bed, slipping back down with a yell, red rose petals flying up around you as you collided with the bed. You carefully sat up, looking down at the bed, if you hadn’t just been kidnapped you would think was romantic.

You tried to pull your legs up to your chest, but you screamed out in pain. Your eyes darted around the bed, in a terrified attempt to stay calm as you looked down at your leg. Bile found its way into your throat, burning in your esophagus as you looked down at your snapped ankle. You vomited off the side of the bed, your body shaking vigorously.

“Catherine,” A terribly sweet female voice spoke, “ My sweet Catherine, you’re awake.”

You coughed lightly before spitting the rest of the vomit out of your mouth, turning your head to look towards the sound of the voice seeing a familiar and beautiful brunette woman smiling over at you. “My name isn’t Catherine,”

“Yes, it is. You’re Catherine Earnshaw, Jane Eyre,” she walked closer, her hair swaying to and fro gently “ Hell, You’re Emma Woodhouse and I am,”

“Crazy, you’re fucking crazy!” you screamed.

“I’m Heathcliff! I am Mr. Rochester! I am Mr. Knightley!” She screamed back at you, her happy demeanor changing in a second, rage decorating her face for a simple second before she let out a calming sigh and smiled once again. “I’m sorry, my sweet, I didn’t mean to scream at you like that. I love you.”

Tears were streaming down your face as you nodded, slowly “You love me,” too afraid to speak out against her again, you nodded through your tears.

She sat on the edge of the bed, that you were slowly realizing was indeed heart-shaped. She reached her hand out, you flinched feeling it land on your head, her hand petting your hair gently.

March 8, 20XX

Morgan was smiling a considerate smile across the table at one of your coworkers, Noelle. She was a pretty blonde, had a sweet smile. The only thing they got out of her was that you were single, her eyes stayed on Reid when she said that, and that you were nice to everyone. Baked for people on their birthdays, or days they were struggling, you were… you are considerate.

Reid hated to admit that the nicest people always seemed to capture the attention of the most dangerous people. Unwanted, cruel, attention.

Spencer excused himself, stepping away to take a look around the vast library. There was a small cafe in the corner of the library, it was possible that the unsub first met you here, checking out a book or something of that kind. He went back to Noelle, “Would you say that Y/N had admirers?”

“Not really, but there was something in December,” she let out a soft sound as she gathered her memories “,this woman came in, beautiful, said she knew Y/N from college or something. It was a weekend so she wasn’t working, but uh she was nice, wanted to buy Y/N a Christmas gift, and asked what she would like. Y/N likes roses, she likes romantic stuff so that’s what I told her.”

Morgan’s eyes widen, holding back his comments as he thanked Noelle for her time before turning back to Reid “A Woman?”

Spencer nodded, trying to make connections in his head. The books and the roses made sense, why the blood-soaked panties? The roses because of what Noelle said, Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre were classic romance books. He had read them both, but he wanted to see your new copies of the books, your annotated versions.

As for the blood-soaked pair of panties, his mind went to one thing, innocence. Assuming that you weren’t a virgin anymore the blood covering them would mean that your innocence was already taken from you. The unsub might’ve given them to you to remind you what you’d lost or to make the threat that you should have stayed a virgin, that you should’ve stayed innocent. However, despite your so-called ‘ruin’, it seems that she still loves you, hence the gifts.

Spencer assumed that the unsub thought that the two of you were connected through romance, maybe even a taboo type of romance. The romanticism of Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre made that fairly obvious to him, as well as the rest of the team. Red roses symbolized romance, while the pink rose symbolized admiration and grace, indicating that your relationship with the unsub could have been anything but new.

“Can we get a map of all of the florists in the area?”

***

You pressed your face into the cushions, it was a weekday and she had yet to come in. Heather, after a day or two you finally remembered who she was, Heather Alexander, she lived on your floor your freshman year of college. She was quiet, sweet, and, apparently, crazy. In college, she seemed less glamorous, wore glasses, had quirky hair, complete with a babyface. You used to invite her over whenever you would bake something sweet, till one day she was gone. Dropped out.

Now, almost seven years later, she seemed so broken. Living in a delusion, thinking that she was some hero or romantic interest of yours. The two of you were destined to be together, well that is until you live out the fate of Catherine Earnshaw and die.

You found it painful to cry at this point, you were so dehydrated and tired that you didn’t even try to force the tears out. It wasn’t that you were too tired to fight, well that was to be debated, you still had plenty of fight left in you. You were playing it safe, the thing that was holding you back from fighting was your mother. You couldn’t bring yourself to put yourself in danger, you needed to hold on to her, you needed to see her again and you knew she needed to see you again. So, you did what you thought was best, for now, lie in bed and feel numb.

It wasn’t that hard to feel numb, given that Heather had you hooked up to a morphine drip. You learned that whenever she was mad at you she would call you Emma, sometimes Jane, but for the most part you were Catherine. When you were Catherine, she would give you all the morphine you wanted for your broken ankle and when you were Emma or Jane she would ween you off till she saw fit. So if you were Catherine, you would feel numb, feel okay at least for now.

You were staring up at the ceiling, feeling especially stoic, when you heard keys jingle at the door. It opened, showing a glimpse of a regularly lighted room, fluorescent as ever, before leaving you and Heather in this disgustingly pink room. “Catherine,” she threw her keys off towards the counter in the corner of the room. You were too drugged up to think about an escape plan, too drugged up to do anything but stare up at the ceiling. It felt so desperately good to be numb, you barely noticed when she touched you, but as soon as you did her touch felt like fire. “Catherine,” she leaned in close, her lips meeting yours in a second. Heather kissed you with her eyes closed, you always kept your eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling waiting for her harassment to be over. You never kissed back and she didn’t seem to mind so long as she was enjoying herself.

Heather pulled away with a childlike grin “Did you enjoy yourself today? I wish I could have stayed with you, but duty called!” Your eyes traveled down to the name on her uniform, it was the name of a floral shop near your work, the roses.

Your speech was slow and slurred, causing Heather to reach over to the morphine drip, fixing it so you would get lower levels of the drug, but that wouldn’t start working for a couple of hours. Heather seemed to know that so she simply got up, walked away, grabbed her keys, and went towards the door “You can answer in a few hours. Till then, my Catherine.”

***

Prentiss watched your mother as she played with her hands, her mouth trembling as she spoke “Y/N called me when it all started,” she looked up, her eyes shifting between Prentiss and Hotch “I should have listened, oh I should have listened!”

“Mrs. L/N, you didn’t know this would happen. You can’t blame yourself here.” Prentiss offered comfort towards your mother only for her to let out a heartbreaking wail of pain.

“She’s all I have.”

Hotch and Prentiss were walking down the porch steps with a tin of chocolate chip cookies, a habit of her’s that you had picked up on. Prentiss looked over at Hotch, whose eyes betrayed him, she didn’t say anything about the look in his eyes. She knew that he probably didn’t want her to ask. She blew out a sigh as they got into the car

“Need a cookie?”

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barbenheimer-core · 3 years

Text

AUDERE EST FACERE !

하나. chanel : part four — 3k words

Wangja crossed the street with a bag of two steaming bowls of ramyeon and red ginseng, speeding up his pace to prevent the noodles from getting too soggy while he walked the path over to his shop where he had left Ahyeong at, sighing as he thought about the new addition to the cast.

When he had walked into his store last night, he was not expecting a stage to commence immediately upon entering the lounge.

Thank the writer (this was the first and last time he was going to say that) that their conversation and actions had already been written out, or else the shop owner would've been gawking at the new girl for the entirety of the stage.

He had been immensely startled back then; it was unusual for him to not know the timing and plot of every stage because he always made sure to check the comic that permanently resided in a small, hidden corner of his shop every single day.

But when he had browsed the comic as soon as Ahyeong had left, he had been bewildered at the sudden shift in the book's contents.

The cast page had been altered to feature four main characters instead of the original trio, and as he had turned the pages, he had noticed the new stages being inked with interactions that had never been present as of before.

To think that an already complicated web of troubling relationships had not been enough for the writer, they had proceeded to add a love square to the mix.

Wangja grimaced at his creator's choices in life. They had definitely been influenced by someone to do so if it had been so last minute.

But one thing was for sure; out of all the stories that the writer had put him in, this was by far the most interesting.

"Ahyeong-ah! I'm back!" he yelled into the air as he stepped in, his voice echoing in the shop.

The silence was his only response.

Confused, he stepped through the streamers that decorated the lounge's archway, eyes searching for the girl while he set the food down on the coffee table next to the abandoned copy of Shiver.

"Ahyeong, are you here-"

He stopped abruptly, gaze finding the peach cover of True Beauty toppled upside down on the floor in front of a shelf he swore no one would notice.

With dread in his mind, he picked it up, turning it around, only to be faced by the drawn version of the person he was looking for.

Oh no. She'd seen it.

If Gilyeong had to describe his sister at that moment, he would've said she looked like she'd risen from a grave in a zombie apocalypse movie.

She looked dead. Alive, yes, but dead.

Like someone had told her whole life was a lie.

When Ahyeong had arrived back home from wherever she had dashed off to during the morning, she had looked like she'd gone through the five stages of grief, questioned the meaning of life, and ran a marathon through the streets of Seoul by how hard she was breathing.

He had almost asked her if she was okay, but that would've come off as him being "concerned for his dear sister," as Eunjung had so uselessly put it, and he hated proving people right. And besides, Ahyeong was clearly not okay.

"Oye, grinch," he called out across the table after seeing her actions.

She looked as if she hadn't even heard him. No annoyed flinch, no irritated twitching of her eyebrow; no reaction at all. Just her mindlessly trying to eat soup with chopsticks.

Eunjung looked at her with an extreme amount of concern.

Gilyeong almost puked at the feeling of worry in his gut.

Ahyeong was functioning on auto-pilot, her consciousness having taken a backseat as the only thing that moved her was sheer muscle memory.

She couldn't even remember how she had come back to her house, however, the stinging in her legs informed her of how she had deserted the shop and ran all the way back home, much to Driver Kwon's horror.

Her head felt empty.

Being in a comic? As a bully? That had to be the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard, or read, about herself.

It did not make sense. She was quite literally a model student, with a record as clean as glass. Being reduced to the likes of a bully? Impossible.

And then the derealisation came in.

This probably wasn't real after all. Maybe it was just one big practical joke blown out of proportion.

Yeah, that was it, she concluded as she finally became aware of her surroundings, dropping the chopsticks in her hands with a confused look and picking up a spoon to continue eating her soup, unaware of the small breath of relief from across the table.

That weird paralysis thing hadn't happened since the other day anyway, so she was probably going to be okay.

TURN.

What a fucking lie, you're kidding—

The doors to the house banged open, harshly knocking against the walls and startling the occupants of the dining room.

Song Hwayoung came inside the house, immediately making Eunjung receive her in a hurry and assist her with taking off her coat and setting her a pair of slippers.

Ahyeong was panicking. Why now? The universe was being unnecessarily cruel. Her body felt like a rock, cemented into the ground. The air got colder, the lights felt different, brighter somehow, as if someone was shining a spotlight down on her family, as if a grim situation was about to ensue.

Ahyeong almost got up to greet her mother, but sat back down after seeing the subtle shake of Gilyeong's head, who hastily looked down at his empty plate after Hwayoung came to sit at the head of the table.

Her mother looked like she had been trying to bottle up her anger the whole day, and the cap was finally about to burst.

Ahyeong felt unsettled at the sudden change in demeanor. Her mother had never gotten this furious before, ever. She attempted to stand, but she was glued to her seat and could only watch as Hwayoung glared daggers at Gilyeong.

She threw a stack of papers in front of Gilyeong, who shrunk into his seat when he saw its contents.

"What is this?" Hwayoung inquired, trying her best to appear calm.

The young boy mumbled a reply in a voice so small that it was barely audible.

Hwayoung flared her nostrils, "Say it louder!"

Both siblings flinched at the volume. "My report card," the youngest said shakily.

Why was her mum flipping over a simple report card? It's not like grades mattered—

"Even I know that it's a fucking report card. What I want to know is why your grades dropped to C's and D's and why the hell you're failing in math?"

Ahyeong's eyes widened, either involuntarily or of her own free will, she didn't know. Hwayoung cursing at her brother and raging over his academic report? That was quite literally the opposite of how her mother was. Hwayoung was supposed to be the sweetest person she'd ever known, understanding and supportive through every endeavor.

For a moment she considered if her mother had been replaced by a clone of a crueler version of her. With the bullshit that was happening to her right now, the theory did not even feel that far-fetched.

At Gilyeong's silence, Hwayoung scoffed, "All of this was happening and you didn't even bother telling me? I was in a phone call with your friend's mother who told me her son had scored first place but when she mentioned how you weren't even in the top ten do you know how humiliated I felt?"

She stood up abruptly, throwing her chair back, which was immediately caught by Eunjung, and scowled at the boy, not a single trace of warmth in her eyes that her daughter was familiar with, "What an embarrassment to the Song name. At least your sister fares better than you."

With that, she stalked away, heels clicking against the marble floors as she retreated to her room.

TURN .

Ahyeong got up as soon as she could control her movements, rushing over to Gilyeong whose eyes had become red and puffy as he sniffled.

She pulled him in between her arms, and he shook uncontrollably, Eunjung watching the ordeal with downtrodden eyes, wishing she could help.

This was far beyond what she thought would happen. No, that woman could not have been their mother.

As she put her brother to sleep that night, she came to a solution.

Stepping into the elevator to reach Cloud9 Officetel's terrace the next day, her resolve strengthened.

This nightmare was ending, one way or the other.

Jugyeong was quite possibly living the worst nightmare she'd ever had.

The world was too cruel. Beauty was only on the inside, they said. What a horrible lie.

She had been humiliated beyond measure. All she tried to do was convey her honest feelings to quite possibly the only person who had ever been genuinely kind to her. She would've been fine if Wang Hyunbin had simply rejected her and decided to stay as friends. But for him and Semi to destroy her pride and self-worth like that? Because of how she looked?

She felt her eyes burning with warm tears before they cascaded down her cheeks, the cold wind at the top of the building harshly biting at her skin and rattling her bones.

She shivered.

Cold, it was too cold. What a day to die.

Jugyeong's hands hovered over her phone's screen as she stared at her mother's contact. Would her family even mourn her? Good riddance, they would probably think.

But she had to tell someone, and even if her mother was harsh with her words, she still loved her. She had to tell her the reason why she was about to jump off of a building.

Just as her finger leaned down to press the call button, the door to the rooftop opened, and Jugyeong jumped in shock, turning around to see who had come in.

She did a double-take.

Was God personally consenting to her taking her own life? Because she was pretty sure he had sent down an angel to escort her soul into heaven.

Her glasses had been abandoned on the bench she'd been sitting on from when she had been trying to wipe her tears, so she couldn't really see the person properly, but even with bad eyesight, the stranger looked almost ethereal.

They were dressed in a black dress and heels, as if they had gone to a funeral, or were planning to go to one.

They stopped upon seeing Jugyeong's disheveled self.

Was God finally being kind to her in her final moments?

Mind in a haze and not thinking straight, Jugyeong broke down yet again.

Ahyeong was startled at the girl crying in front of her. She didn't think there was going to be someone else up there other than herself.

When she looked closer at the girl who was sobbing uncontrollably in front of her, she noticed who it was, immediately taking a few steps back on instinct.

Moon Gayoung? Why was she in a school uniform— oh.

You've got to be kidding me.

What luck she had, walking right into the girl this world literally revolved around.

She felt something pulling away at her in the back of her mind, sending warning bells down her spine, saying she wasn't supposed to be there. But why?

Ahyeong's heart almost burst out of her ribcage when Jugyeong threw herself at her, clutching almost painfully at her waist and sobbing into her dress.

She froze at the sudden contact, arms awkwardly hovering over the girl's shoulders.

Jugyeong had probably not recognized her yet, because there was no way she was hugging her future tormentor just like that.

"Th-thank y-y-you for c-coming," the girl said between choked breaths, "F-for being- for being here in my—" she struggled to say the words, "—my final moments."

Ahyeong stilled at that.

By the time her words had registered, she already knew what was happening.

This was the scene from the drama, she remembered, when Jugyeong had tried to kill herself because of the incident at school.

How ironic. Ahyeong almost laughed at her situation, they were here for the same fate for almost the same reason. Both didn't like the world that they lived in.

But for the Song girl, this was a test, really. A theory she came up with in the dead of the night.

The sensation of falling, that knee-jerk reaction, and the feeling of finally waking up from your dream. That was what she was hoping for. She wasn't here to die, she was here to go back to living her own life.

But the girl who clung to her was dead set on ending things, and frankly, that was a dreadful thought.

Ahyeong had no intention of leaving her as she was, be this a fictional world or not, Im Jugyeong was a human being who deserved a lot more than she got.

"Were you going to jump?"

Jugyeong's thoughts came to a halt as the Angel asked a question, the oddly familiar lilt of her voice bringing a strange mix of foreboding and warmth in her gut.

Still shaking, she only nodded against her shoulder.

"Why?"

"Because-" she sniffled, tightening her arms around them, "because everyone hates me," her voice faded at the end, and her wobbly knees gave in, making her sink into the hard floor and dragging the person along with her.

This time, the Angel wrapped her arms around her, rubbing soothing circles into her back.

"Jugyeong, things may seem horrible for you at the moment, and you have every right to be upset over what was said and done, but it is impossible to know answers to such questions when you're so overwhelmed."

The words cut through her haziness, her cries slowly stopping as what they said registered in Jugyeong's mind.

"You don't really want to die, do you?"

It felt weird, being told such things by a stranger.

Maybe deep down she had already known, but her despair had overtaken her senses and disregarded her common sense.

"Why were you really about to call your mother?"

Because she was hoping someone would stop her. To make sure someone really did care about her despite appearances.

The Angel patted her back, and slowly pulled away, only to firmly place their hands on Jugyeong's shoulders.

"Your family's waiting."

She didn't need to be told twice.

Maybe God was kinder than she thought.

It was getting dark now.

The cold evening air nipped at her skin as Ahyeong stood on the edge, heels digging into the concrete as she gazed down below.

What a hypocrite she was, telling all those things to Jugyeong.

She'd sent her home with a taxi after their ordeal, and Jugyeong had not even looked at her once through the whole thing.

She didn't know why.

The road was buzzing with activity, cars zooming past on asphalt, people walking home on the footpaths, vendors selling seasonal goods by the side.

It seemed to be a normal day.

She wondered how the rest of their day would go if her body suddenly flopped down there.

Gooseflesh rose on her arms. All of this was too real.

She slapped herself, the stinging spreading through her numb skin and making her wince in pain.

What was she doing? Was she really about to jump off a building just to test a theory out?

What if it failed? The pain in her cheek would pale in comparison to what would happen should she fall.

And the people waiting for her back home, thinking she was off paying her respects to an old friend. Gilyeong and Eunjung would be destroyed.

Ahyeong stepped back. No, she couldn't do this. She wasn't planning on dying today. Or anytime soon really.

She'd just have to get used to living here—

TURN.

Song Ahyeong stepped closer to the edge of the building, awaiting her doom.

What the fuck!? She didn't want to die, shit, shit, shit—

The LED screen behind her lit up in hues of pink and purple, colorful shadows falling on her dress that did nothing against the frigid wind.

Jung Seyeon's face graced the billboard in the distance, an ode from the people to celebrate the day he was born, and an apology for being the reason he died.

One more step and she would fall. No, no, one more step and she'd fall—

Ahyeong leaned forward closing her eyes for the last time.

NO!

And so, she fell backward.

Wait, backward?

TURN.

Ahyeong barely registered the iron grip on her wrist before it was tugged hard, her stiletto losing its balance and twisting her foot at an unnatural angle.

She widened her eyes as her vision blurred, surroundings moving too fast, and braced herself for the impact on the rough concrete.

It never came.

Instead, she fell on the person who had taken the liberty of pulling her back, and subsequently saving her. Groaning, she raised her head, squinting against the bright light of the advertisement.

"What a relief," Suho breathed out.

The ColorBeauty commercial cast the glow of its neon colors over their faces, and as the faint melody of Seyeon's voice filled the silence in the air, Song Ahyeong knew that somehow, she had fucked up.

masterlist

#true beauty #cha eunwoo #hwang inyeop #moon gayoung #lee suho #han seojun #im jugyeong #kang sujin #extraordinary you #lee suho x reader #lee suho x oc #korean drama #kdrama fanfic #kdrama imagine #kdrama scenarios #webtoon

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feeling-uncomfy · 3 years

Text

Am I spamming? Yes. Do I care? Not really, I'm having fun so- sorry you're at the brute end of my restlessness.

This was definitely inspired by "paranoia party" by Frances Forever. Its a bop.

There are some warnings-

Alcohol mentions (aka Hawks gets drunk and makes bad decisions.

There's some implications of sexual assault, please be cautions while reading

There's also a blood warning

Don't know why my brain did this it just started typing so- hah

Anyways enjoy :D

Shigaraki sat up at a desk full of monitors. Kurogiri stood stiff at his side. "This is a horrible idea, pull him out." Kurogiri said, speaking with a tone he rarely used on Shigaraki. Shigaraki shrugged, watching Compress weave through the crowd as he declined his third offering of champagne that night. At this point, he was the only sober one in the room. "He's not a damsel, he'll live, Kurogiri."

Kurogiri bit back his first response. "You know as well as I do as much as he enjoys partying, this is beyond anyone's limit. People are blackout drunk in there." Shigaraki nodded, and he caught up on what Kurogiri was trying to explain when Compress pulled someone's hand off of his shoulder. "If anyone tries anything like that, we have Twice, Dabi and Magne ready to pull him out," Shigaraki pointed to Hawks on another monitor. "And we have the bird." Kurogiri shook his head, not enjoying this in the slightest.

Atsuhiro felt the same.

He enjoyed partying, he used to do it all the time in his youth. Though, after one particular night, he couldn't bring himself to even smell alcohol. He refused to go near it. Or leave his apartment, but that's his story. Now that he's surrounded by either tipsy or flat-out drunk people, Atsuhiro was ready to call it a night and go take a shower to try wash the alcohol away. He tried his best to swallow around the lump in his throat whenever someone's hand brushed up against his arm.

He thought he was safe when someone grabbed him from behind. Atsuhiro turned sharply, and stopped mid-punch. It was Hawks. "Ah, it's just you." Atsuhiro breathed a sigh of relief. "I doubt I'm going to be able to find our target like this, we should go-" Atsuhiro's breath hitched when he felt Hawks's grip tighten on his wrist. "Hawks." He hissed, turning back. One look at his face and Atsuhiro knew he was in trouble. Hawks was drunk. How did that even happen? Atsuhiro pulled back, freeing his wrist only to have his waist grabbed.

"Hawks." Atsuhiro tried again, grabbing his wrist. "Let go." Hawks didn't seem to want to, and pulled Atsuhiro to the dance floor, where there were people dancing. Atsuhiro was spun around almost like a doll. Hawks was laughing, and pulled him so they were chest to chest. If Atsuhiro wasn't aware that they were being watched, he might have actually stabbed Hawks. He was spun again, and let out a shriek as he was picked up this time. "Put me down-! Hawks!" Atsuhiro's cry was ignored as Hawks brought them back off the centre of the dance floor.

"Very funny." Atsuhiro said sarcastically. "Can you let go now?" Atsuhiro winced once again as Hawks dug his nails into Atsuhiro's waist. Hawks grinned, positively out of it, and pushed his whole weight onto Atsuhiro. They fell back, Atsuhiro's back hitting a wall. In one quick movement, Atsuhiro was caged by a pair of arms. Atsuhiro was vaguely aware of Hawks saying his name, his face buried into his neck.

Atsuhiro barely suppressed a wince when he felt teeth digging into his neck. This was too familiar, Atsuhiro barely remembered what happened that night but Hawks's weight on him brought a cold reminder of the whole thing to him, and Atsuhiro felt like he was going to get sick. "Hawks-" Atsuhiro froze when he saw Hawks's hand start to move. Atsuhiro wasn't going to give it a chance to go anywhere.

Atsuhiro shoved Hawks off of him roughly, sufficiently terrified for the night.

Backing into the crowd, Atsuhiro realised he was bleeding. He clutched where Hawks had bit down and looked around for the camera. Which one was he supposed to signal at again? Atsuhiro forced himself not to flinch at Hawks calling him again. Atsuhiro took off into the crowd, caution thrown to the wind. He didn't bother checking if the door he went through was the right door, he just needed to get away from the stench, from the people, from Hawks.

"What's happening down there?!"

Shigaraki yelled into the walkie talkie, Kurogiri glaring at the feather covering the camera. "Don't know, Magne went in." Shigaraki sighed, scratching at his neck harshly. "Good." He said simply. Dabi put the walkie talkie away, looking at Twice, who was peeking into the room. "I can't see her! She's right there!" Dabi looked in, and saw Magne dragging Hawks out, his feathers following. "What about Mr.?" Dabi glared at Hawks as Magne shook her head.

"Boss, Magne didn't find Mr." Dabi's voice crackled over the walkie talkie. Shigaraki leaned in. "Send Hawks back to the van." Dabi grinned at the clear threat in his bosses voice. He grabbed Hawks and started walking as Kurogiri's patience ran thin, and he left as well. Magne and Twice stayed at the door, peeking in to catch wind of Compress. Kurogiri looked through the building, thankfully blending in well as he looked.

Kurogiri heard Atsuhiro before he found him.

Kurogiri turned down to the right when he heard a hitched sob, then silence. Turning around sharply, Kurogiri saw Atsuhiro pressed up against a wall, covering his mouth and neck. "Atsuhiro-? Atsuhiro, it's Kurogiri." Kurogiri spoke as gently as he could, surprisingly able to surpress his anger. Atsuhiro didn't answer, wiping his tears away sufficiently and grinning weakly up at him. "Kurogiri, I-" Kurogiri waited as Atsuhiro took a shaky breath. "I didn't see you there."

"Are you hurt? What happened down there?" Kurogiri stood over Atsuhiro, watching him curl into himself as he got closer. "Nothing, it was just a little hiccup." Atsuhiro laughed weakly as more tears fell down his cheeks. Kurogiri wiped them away, and saw blood trickle down Atsuhiro's hand. Kurogiri stared for a second, and then registered what he was looking at. "Atsuhiro, what happened to your neck?" Atsuhiro didn't answer, and Kurogiri gently moved his hand. He saw the teeth marks.

"Who did this?" Kurogiri's voice turned cold.

Atsuhiro stared firmly at the floor. "Could we just go home?" His voice was barely above a whisper. Kurogiri shook his head. "Atsuhiro. Who did this." Atsuhiro forced himself to breathe, forced himself to keep his composure, or what was left of it. Atsuhiro muttered as Kurogiri wrapped his arms around him loosely. "What was that, love?" Kurogiri asked, and neither noticed the nickname. "Hawks. It was Hawks. He didn't- he was drunk." Atsuhiro's words were choked as he spoke into Kurogiri's chest, his grip tightening on his shirt.

Kurogiri took a deep breath, both to hide the will to hold Compress tighter in fear of scaring him more, and anger at Hawks. He was going to rip that man to shreds. "Okay, let's get you out of here, alright? We'll go back to the van." Atsuhiro nodded, face hidden as Kurogiri warped them back to the van.

Dabi looked over, and hid the relief he felt when he saw Atsuhiro. "Boss, Kurogiri has Mr." Atsuhiro looked over, and Kurogiri would've been impressed by his ability to seem fine if not for the rage flowing through him. "I'm not dead, no need to be concerned." Atsuhiro laughed, then winced, his hand flying to the bloody mark on his neck. Dabi frowned. "Did a dog attack you or something?" Kurogiri gestured to Hawks, and Dabi's shoulders raising was the only indication that he was surprised.

"Hawks-?" Dabi asked, voice sharp. Kurogiri nodded as Hawks stumbled out of the van, and Atsuhiro took an instinctive step back when they made eye contact. Hawks garbled speaking was interrupted by Dabi kneeing him in the gut. Atsuhiro let out a startled laugh, not expecting that at all. Toga ran out of the van, wrapping her arms around Atsuhiro and swinging off of him. "Twice was worried about you! You want me to cut up the guy who hurt you?" Toga grinned and pulled a knife out of god knows where. Atsuhiro laughed again, shaking his head.

"That's not necessary, but thank you." Toga didn't respond, and dragged him over to Spinner. As soon as Shigaraki joined them outside with Magne and Twice, they were off. Atsuhiro sat up front with Spinner, and thankfully, there was no issue getting back. Shigaraki sent the others on their way, and Dabi managed to convince him to wait until Hawks was sober to kill him, somehow. Kurogiri led Atsuhiro off to shower and away from Hawks.

Atsuhiro cleaned himself off until all he could smell was soap, and his skin was scrubbed raw, he got out only because Kurogiri called him. Atsuhiro was freshly clothed, dried and ready to drop dead. Kurogiri snorted a little when Atsuhiro faceplanted on the bed. "Atsuhiro." Kurogiri called softly, and Atsuhiro looked over. Kurogiri reapplied a bandage to the wound. "There, now you can rest, love." Atsuhiro nodded, eyes already shut. Kurogiri gently eased Atsuhiro back into the pillows, watching him curls around the blankets.

Kurogiri waited until he was sure Atsuhiro was asleep before leaving. He walked down the hall and tried not to yell when he caught Toga and Twice breaking into Atsuhiro's room. He held back a sigh and let them go. He had more important things to tend to. Like the murder of the number two hero.

Atsuhiro woke the next day to arms wrapped around every limb. At first, he panicked. Then he saw who was there. Twice and Toga were clinging to his arms, and Spinner was the reason he couldn't feel his legs. He was draped over both of them, sleeping soundly. Atsuhiro knew he wasn't moving any time soon, so he decided to lean back and wait for rescue. Unfortunately, he fell asleep before said rescue showed up.

Twice and Spinner were woken abruptly to Hawks screaming. Spinner was about to ask what the hell was happening, but was shoved off the bed by Toga, who proceeded to scream. "They're killing him without us! C'mon!" Twice started to shush her as Atsuhiro shifted around. The three of them froze until Atsuhiro settled again, comfortable. Spinner snuck out, holding the door open for the other two as the fled the room. As soon as Spinner eased the door shut, they were off.

Shigaraki was chasing Hawks through the halls, Dabi hot on his heels, literally.

Twice made a clone, and followed Dabi through the door. Toga threw one of her knives to Spinner and the two followed. Kurogiri enjoyed watching them, already deciding when and how he was going to kill Hawks. So he sat back and watched the others chase Hawks out into the streets. He enjoyed the panic over the media, it was entertaining to watch other heroes try get in their way. Kurogiri simply sat back and waited for Atsuhiro to get up.

[Something I feel I should explain is Hawks's behaviour- because I am aware of how different I'm writing him-

Hawks to me is the kind of guy who treats everyone aside from his chosen few people like shit. Like- if he doesn't like or if he doesn't have to respect you, he doesn't care about you. At all.

Tokoyami, Miruko and Endeavour, people like them that he likes he protects, he treats well and he adores them. People like Dabi, Shigaraki and Kurogiri? He has to respect them, it's the only reason he tolerates them.

His relationship with Twice is a little like his and Tokoyami's, Tokoyami and Twice treat him like a human, so he wants to make sure they're happy, that they're well fed and other stuff like that.

I dont think Hawks feels that way about Compress, therefore he doesn't treat him like that, simple as. The only reason he'd like Compress is because of his drive to do work and be productive instead of sleeping.

Which is also why I dont think his relationship with Dabi is great either, because Dabi and Hawks dont trust each other and all that.

Yeah idk- I just think it's pretty cool to explore Hawks's duality as a spy and how differently he'd treat people he sees as "good" and "bad"]

#boku no hero academia #bnha hawks #bnha mr compress #bnha spinner #bnha twice #bnha dabi #bnha shigaraki #bnha kurogiri #kuropress #i am in love with (1) magician #so as an excuse to give him cuddles im gonna make him suffer

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incorrectbandofbrothersquotes · 3 years

Text

Dear Heart - Chapter 10

Dick Winters x Melanie Davis

Summary: Melanie Davis is a nurse from North Carolina who has lived a sheltered life since her father died. Her father’s best friend, Colonel Sink, invites her to experience more as a regimental nurse for the 506th PIR of the 101st Airborne. She embarks on the adventure of a lifetime.

Tag list: @thoughpoppiesblow @primusk If you’d like to be added, let me know!

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: First of all, sorry this update took so long! I’ve got a new OC to introduce here and I wanted to get her right. I hope you guys enjoy Juliet as much as I do :) Thank you again to @mercurygray for being a wonderful beta reader, as always <3

Warning(s): None for this one :)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

Chapter 10 here we go!!!

Haguenau, with its slushy streets and unpredictable explosions, was a welcome reprieve from the hellish woods of the Bois Jacques. The improvements were small, but they had roofs over their heads, food in their bellies, and rumor had it that later there would be showers. Unfortunately, danger still lingered close by - right across the river.

Melanie slipped and slid all the way to the company CP to check on Lipton. She was keeping an eye on his pneumonia so he wouldn’t have to go to the hospital. Dick had objected to this at first, but she assured him she could manage. Lip was too valuable to leave the company now, and Dick couldn’t argue with that.

When she arrived, she saw Webster - clean and fresh from the replacement depot. She nearly did a double take when she spotted him. Holland felt like years ago now. Though he looked much the same as he did then - a handsome young Harvard man.

“Oh! Hello, David,” she said pleasantly. “Glad you could join us.”

“Thank you,” he returned earnestly, for he knew she was the only person who said that without any sarcasm behind it. “How are you, Melanie?”

“Oh, just fine,” she said. “How’s the leg?”

“Good, thanks,” he replied.

Melanie had tended to him herself. It was a flesh wound, so she didn’t need a doctor. Just disinfectant, stitches, and a bandage, and he was good as new. She offered to cover for him if he wanted to get back to the line, but he refused. Now that she had seen combat first hand, she couldn’t say she blamed him.

She turned her attention back to Lipton. “Now, Lip, can I ask you to set those papers down at least long enough for me to take your temperature?”

Lip nodded and let the papers in his hand fall into his lap. Luz pulled up a chair for her. She thanked him and took a seat while the thermometer did its work. She leaned closer to feel Lip’s forehead, which was still burning up.

The temperature climbed and she frowned. “Still a fever. How’s the cough?”

“It’s okay,” he said, but then lost himself in another fit.

While she waited, another new face entered the room. A lieutenant she did not recognize. He introduced himself as Jones, and explained he was looking for Captain Speirs. As if summoned by the mention of him, the new Easy CO appeared. Melanie wasn’t quite sure how she felt about Speirs yet. There was no denying he was successful, but there was something frightening about him. He was so...intense. And she’d heard the rumors about what he did on D-Day, though she didn’t know if she believed them. Even having spent more time around him, she couldn’t make up her mind about whether he was capable of it or not.

Lip began to introduce Jones, but Speirs cut across him. “Listen, for Christ’s sakes, will you go back in the back and sack out? Lieutenant, tell him he needs to be in bed.”

One thing Melanie appreciated about Speirs was his indifference to her presence in regard to her gender. Ever the practical leader, he seemed to just appreciate that she was there. Man or woman, if there was help, he took it. She did wish he would call her Melanie, but that sort of familiarity took time.

“I can’t order him around, Captain, but I do agree with you,” she said, casting a stern look at Lip.

“I will, sir,” Lip said to Speirs. “I was just trying to make myself useful, sir.”

“You can do that by listening to the nurse,” Speirs replied.

“And you won’t be useful to anybody unless you get better,” she added. “Do try and get some rest.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said tiredly.

“Very good,” she said, patting his arm. “I’ll come back by and check on you later.”

With Lip seen to, Melanie headed back to her billet. Now that they weren’t cut off, she had a stack of letters from her mother to sort through. She had only made it through about half of them so far, and though their contents steered more and more toward questions about her and Dick, she was eager to hear the news from home. She also had a few letters from her friend Rose, so when her mother’s letters got to be too much, she had something to fall back on.

When the first letter from her unread stack from Lilian began with a question about Dick and his intentions, Melanie gave up. She could never make her mother understand what was between her and Dick, and so there was no use trying to explain it. She picked up Rose’s letter and began to read. She made a face at its contents.

“Bad news?”

Melanie looked up to see Dick in the doorway. For a fleeting second, she took absurd notice of the bit of scruff on his face and admired it. He looked rather devil-may-care. So much so that for a moment she forgot her distress entirely. She shook her head to clear it, set the letter down, and nodded sadly.

“I’m afraid so,” she said. “My friend, Rose...her husband is missing somewhere in the Pacific.”

“This is your high school friend?” he asked.

Melanie so rarely spoke about her loved ones back home, but she had mentioned Rose more than once. Rose was married to Patrick, a Marine. They had a little boy, Jonathan, and Melanie was his godmother. She nodded again.

“Yes,” she said. “Oh, how awful…Poor Rose…”

“I’m sure he’ll turn up,” Dick said, trying to sound convincing. “Could be captured.” That was certainly wishful thinking. He’d heard that the Japanese rarely, if ever, took prisoners. But he wouldn’t poison Melanie’s mind with that information.

She didn’t reply for a long moment, her eyes fixed on the letter, deep in thought. Then she sat back against her chair and sighed. Almost dreamily. His brow furrowed as he watched her. She turned her face to look out the window, and the light illuminated the bruises that still faintly clung to her skin.

“This might sound like a horrible thing to say,” she said. "But you know, I sort of envy her. Husband, baby. Everything is...decided, it’s there. I know deep down that it worries her, having Patrick gone, but I...I envy that she had those things to lose." She looked at Dick. "Does that make sense?"

He knew exactly what she meant. Dick listened to the way some of the other men talked about their wives, and he did sometimes feel a little jealous that they had someone who was so counting on their return. True, it made the stakes higher - his frequent reasoning for not admitting his feelings to Melanie - but there was a certain beauty about that risk.

“It makes sense,” he told her. “And I think it’s only human. She may envy you that you get to be part of the action, while she has to stay behind. Or that you don’t have something so heavy to worry about.”

Melanie considered arguing this. If anything happened to Dick, she’d be devastated. But of course, that was not something she could say. And besides, he was not her husband. Losing him would not put her in the same position as Rose socially. She would only have comparable heartbreak. She decided to change the subject, distraught at the very idea.

“Did you need something?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “There’s a patrol tonight. Sink wants you and Roe on standby in case of any casualties.”

“A patrol?” she questioned.

He nodded, his own displeasure at the idea clear in the slight downturn of his mouth. She wished there was something she could say to comfort him, but unfortunately, they both knew it was no good.

He explained the basics. Fifteen men from Easy Company would cross the river and try to capture a few Germans they knew to be residing in one of the buildings near the shore. Hopefully, they would have information to help the Allies push further into Germany. Melanie didn’t think the risk was worth it, but she didn’t have to say so. She knew Dick felt the same. But orders were orders.

“Alright, I’ll try and have some things prepared,” she said with a sigh. If she had time, she might have gone to Colonel Sink to ask him about this patrol and if it was really necessary, but it seemed decided. “Would you like me to come to the briefing?”

“Up to you,” he said. “I was just going to tell you to get some sleep while you can. Patrol sets off at 0100 hours.”

She expected him to go then, but he lingered, looking at her as if there was something on the tip of his tongue. She searched his face for what it might be.

“Is there anything else, Dick?” she asked.

There was, but he wouldn’t say it. Truthfully, he felt he related to Rose. After almost losing Melanie to a crumbling building, and wondering what she’d been through before those five days in the woods (which he still wondered), fearing that whatever it was had cost him his closeness to her, he realized he had done a lot more worrying about her lately. He was at the relative safety of battalion, while she had taken a position much closer to danger. The tables had certainly turned since D-Day.

He shook his head. “No, that’s it. Get some rest. I’ll see you later.”

He turned to leave, but was blocked by the appearance of a striking blonde woman. He stopped just before colliding with her, his surprise evident on his face.

“Crikey, sorry!” she gasped. She was English, based on the accent. “My fault!”

Melanie’s brow furrowed with confusion as Dick shuffled out of the way of the newcomer and her face came into view. She was beautiful with thick, wavy blonde hair, eyes the color of rain, and an enchanting smile. She clearly wasn’t military since she was in civilian clothes. Her presence was all charm and warmth, from the second she entered the room.

“Juliet Fletcher,” she said, extending her hand. “You’ll have to excuse the sweat, I walked all the way through town. You wouldn’t believe how difficult it is to get a cab out here.”

Melanie and Dick both chuckled and shook the woman’s hand. “I’m Melanie Davis, and this is Captain Dick Winters.”

“I see I’ve made it to the right place,” Juliet said. “I’m a reporter with the London Pursuit, and Colonel Sink said I can bunk with you while I cover the regiment.”

Melanie blinked, surprised by Colonel Sink allowing a war correspondent - especially one who was both female and English.

“Most of my colleagues went to cover our own lads, but I thought I’d see what the Yanks are up to,” Juliet continued. “I hate to be unoriginal.”

Melanie and Dick exchanged an amused glance as Juliet stepped further into the room and set her bags down.

“I promise you’ll be glad of the company,” she said.

“Why do you say that?” Melanie asked, curious.

“Well, there can’t be too many other women out here,” Juliet said. “With all the whistles I got on my way here, I’m quite certain we stand out.”

Melanie smiled again, feeling seen. Though the men knew better than to whistle at her. She thought it was out of respect for Colonel Sink, but really most of the men understood Melanie to be Dick’s girl, whether Dick and Melanie were aware of it or not.

“I’ll let you get settled,” Dick said, then he turned to put his hand on Melanie’s shoulder. “I’ll see you later.”

“Of course,” Melanie replied, her gaze lingering on him just a moment longer. Her eyes flicked down to the stubble on his chin again for one last look at it.

“Nice to meet you, Juliet,” he said, and then he was gone.

Juliet glanced between where Dick disappeared and Melanie’s face. “You two seem rather smitten, is he your boyfriend?”

Melanie flushed. “Oh, no, nothing like that.”

“Would you like him to be?” Juliet asked.

The pink in Melanie’s cheeks deepened. “Well - I mean, I care for him, but -”

“What’s the matter?” Juliet pressed. “Family doesn’t approve?”

“We’ve never met each other’s families, so -”

“Oh, is he married?”

“No, he’s -”

Juliet’s nose wrinkled as she interrupted again. “Does he want you to do unusual things in the bedroom?”

The color drained from Melanie’s face and her eyes went wide as an owl’s. “No!”

“These are just routine questions,” Juliet said.

“Are they?” Melanie wondered, shocked.

“Of course,” Juliet answered, appearing completely earnest. Until she burst out laughing, which put Melanie at ease. “I’m joking, Melanie. We only just met, I’d never ask what your boyfriend likes in the bedroom. Unless of course you need to talk about it, in which case, I’m all ears.”

Melanie blinked. She hadn’t met many reporters so she wondered if they were all as fast-paced as Juliet, whose mind seemed to run a hundred miles a second. She felt like she should be offended by the remarks, but she wasn’t. She found it all a bit silly. Which she appreciated after the news from Rose and the impending patrol. Juliet was like sunshine in this bleak and gray winter. She retrieved a cigarette from the box in her pocket, struck a match, and lit it, taking a long drag, and looking very graceful in Melanie’s opinion.

“Dick and I are strictly platonic,” she said. “But I appreciate the offer for a confidant.”

“Anytime,” Juliet said with a puff of smoke around the word. “I hope we can be friends.”

“Me too,” Melanie agreed.

“Seriously, I don’t have any friends,” Juliet said. “People hate reporters.”

Melanie softened. Juliet was not teasing now, she was being honest. Melanie saw it in her eyes, the loneliness.

“I assure you, I have no such prejudice,” Melanie said. “Now, what can I do to help you settle in?”

Juliet had packed light, which was to be expected. But she had brought along her typewriter, which Melanie was surprised Juliet was able to carry at all. It was heavier than lead, and would have had Melanie tipping over if she tried to travel with it. As they got Juliet set up, they got to know each other more. Melanie did enjoy being in the company of a woman again, and the friendship she felt reminded her of her time with Renee and Anna, who she missed a great deal. Juliet explained that she had met some of the 101st before while they were in Aldbourne, which was part of what drew her to covering their unit now.

“You didn’t make any friends?” Melanie asked. “I’ve found our boys to be rather friendly, especially with beautiful women.”

Juliet smiled. “Oh, they were perfectly kind. But it is hard to keep up once they’ve shipped out.”

“I understand,” Melanie said. “Why, my friend back home - her husband is in the Pacific and she gets so impatient for his letters. Of course now, he…” she trailed off, reminded once more of Patrick’s danger and Rose’s heartache.

“Was he killed?” Juliet asked.

Melanie shook her head. “Missing.”

“Crikey, I don’t know which is worse,” Juliet said. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“That’s not the only bad news,” Melanie confessed, and explained about the patrol. Juliet listened carefully, brow knitting over her eyes as she took it in.

“It’s quite risky,” she remarked. “From what I’ve read, the war’s supposedly almost over.”

Melanie bit back a scoff. “Not quite. I wish it were, though. These men have been through enough.”

“You have too, I expect,” Juliet said. “Were you with them in Bastogne?”

“I was for the last week or so,” Melanie told her. “And I barely made it through that little.”

Melanie shuddered to recall those days. Not only because of the grueling nature of the battle, but also her distance from Dick. Things were beginning to get back to normal between them, but she could feel that he was still curious. She appreciated that he wouldn’t push her, but it made her feel guilty to keep something from him.

“I’d love to get your story, if you’re up to sharing,” Juliet said. “I’m sure you’ve got a unique perspective.”

“I’m sorry, but I’d rather not,” Melanie told her. “If anyone’s voice deserves to be heard, it’s the men who were out there for weeks.”

Juliet shrugged. “I understand. I hope you know your voice matters too, though.” When Melanie didn’t reply, she continued. “Besides, I’m more interested in this patrol you mentioned. D’you think I’d be allowed at the briefing at least?”

Melanie pondered this, grateful for the change of subject. “We can certainly ask Dick. Or Easy’s CO, since that company will be executing the operation.”

“Great! When can I meet him?” Juliet wondered.

Melanie admired Juliet’s eagerness. “I’ll be going by the company CP this afternoon to check up on Sergeant Lipton. Come with me, and I’m sure we can find out.”

“Perfect!”

The girls set out for something to eat. And Juliet was constantly making Melanie laugh. Not because Juliet was necessarily trying to be funny, but her remarks were unusual and amusing. Melanie felt like she’d been sent a sweet blessing - she couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed this much. This winter had been the hardest of her life, and not only because of the weather. So much had happened to her. But now she felt like spring was right around the corner.

Neither Dick nor Speirs were at the CP when Melanie and Juliet stopped by, and Lipton was about the same as far as his illness went. Melanie introduced her new friend, and Lip was welcoming to her. Melanie once again stressed his need for rest, and he promised her he would sleep within the hour.

“I think Winters and Speirs are out by the river,” he told them. “They’re checking things out for the patrol.”

“Thank you, Lip,” Melanie replied. “We’ll go find them.”

She turned to go, but quickly realized that Juliet was not following her. The reporter was glued to her spot, and some of the color had drained from her face. She looked...rather frightened.

“Did you say...Speirs?” she asked Lipton.

He nodded. “Yeah. Captain Speirs has been our CO since Foy.”

She swallowed. Melanie’s brow furrowed. She guessed that perhaps Speirs was one of the people from the regiment Juliet met in Aldbourne, but judging by her face, it would not be a glad reunion. Juliet looked as if she were braced for impact. Melanie grew concerned.

“I understand if you’re a little afraid of Speirs,” she said. “He’s -”

“Hey, I ain’t afraid of nothin’ except spiders, which is completely normal,” Juliet interjected, somehow both defensive and joking. She took a breath. “Okay...okay, you may see some things…”

Melanie immediately formed a hundred questions about that, but Juliet marched out of the building and into the street. Evidently, there would be no explanation of what Melanie might see upon finding Speirs. Melanie eagerly followed Juliet outside. She tried to strike up conversation again, but Juliet remained silent. Her eyes looked straight ahead, and yet, they were unfocused. Melanie gave up trying to talk before they finally reached the river bank, where Dick did in fact stand with Speirs, looking out at the water and the enemy on the other side. Melanie cleared her throat, and both men turned their heads.

As soon as Speirs’ eyes landed on Juliet, the already thin air suddenly became colder and sparser. Melanie cast Dick a sideways glance and saw on his face that he felt it too. The tension was like a dam about to break. Juliet shifted uncomfortably under Speirs’ icy glare.

“Hi, Ron,” she said quietly. “You look - you look good. I know you probably don’t think so, since - well, you know. Not that you were ever terribly concerned about things like that - I mean, that’s not to say you aren’t nice looking - I was just - you know what? I’m gonna stop now. You look well. War suits you.”

Juliet bit her lip, clearly regretting the last remark, but she didn’t try to correct herself again. Speirs did not reply. He only stared at her, his gaze alone seeming to order her away. Melanie stepped closer to Dick, for a shiver had gone up her spine. Beats passed in strained silence.

“I wrote to you,” Juliet went on. “Several letters. Did you -”

“I didn’t read them,” he cut across her. His tone and expression were alarmingly blank.

She swallowed the sting of it. “That’s alright. I understand completely.” He continued to look at her in stony silence so she changed the subject again. “So, you’re a captain, now, are you? That’s nice! Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” he said hollowly.

“You deserve it,” she said. “Really.”

Speirs did not answer that. He only scowled.

Dick leaned over to whisper in Melanie’s ear. “What is going on?”

“No idea,” she breathed back. “They’ve got some sort of history, but I don’t know what.”

Dick only nodded and looked back at Juliet, who was becoming more and more despondent by the second. He decided to rescue her.

“Did you two need something?” he asked, so the group could hear.

“Juliet was wondering if she could be present at the briefing in order to cover the patrol tonight,” Melanie said, eyes darting between Speirs and Dick.

“No,” Speirs said shortly.

“Please don’t make this personal, Ron,” Juliet sighed. “My editor is really counting on me getting a story out here, and -”

“Well, she fucked up, Jules, she trusted you!” he snapped.

Juliet blinked, taken aback and wounded by the biting reply. Melanie got the distinct feeling Speirs was not talking about the story when it came to a breach of trust. Her mind was swirling with questions now. How did Juliet and Speirs know each other? What had happened to make him hate her so much? And could it be fixed?

Speirs took a deep breath and let it go slowly, his shoulders relaxing as he exhaled. He looked at Juliet again. “Your mother, is she feeling alright?”

“Mhm,” Juliet said with a nod. “Yeah, much better.”

“Good,” he replied.

With that, he walked off. Melanie was completely bewildered. Speirs seemed like he was about ready to spit at Juliet, but then he asked about her mother? It was all so odd and complex. Dick watched Speirs’ disappearing form.

Melanie had a horrifying thought as she watched Speirs depart and Juliet’s expression sink. When two people miscommunicated, and things shifted between them, the relationship could easily come to a devastating and tragic end. Melanie examined the change in her and Dick’s relationship since Terry assaulted her. If she couldn’t find the courage to share with him, would they become like Juliet and Speirs? All hurt feelings and unsaid intentions? What would happen to them if she gave into her fears and didn’t trust him with her heart?

#band of brothers #dick winters #dick winters x ofc #melanie jo davis #dear heart series #hbo war #hbo war fic #band of brothers fic

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kaminobiwan · 4 years

Text

in sickness and health

pairing: obi-wan kenobi x jedi!reader

summary: Confined to a day in bed, Obi-Wan is enlisted to keep you company. Featuring mild spoonfeeding I make no apologies

a/n: First off, THANK YOU FOR 300 FOLLOWERS! WOW oh my goodness that happened so fast. I’m still working through the prompts from my 175/200 follower celebration (of which this is a part of), and I can’t wait to figure out a way to celebrate this milestone as well! I’m so grateful to all of the support and love I’ve gotten so far; your kindness and readership means the world to me, and I’m so glad to share my stories with you :-) Without any further ado, here is the return of Padawan!Obi....and if you’d like to join his fanclub, might I direct you to my co-president @highlycommendable lovely dove

Before I forget, taglist masterlist all that shite. Enjoy my bubs

On his way back to the dormitories after an early morning meditation session, Obi-Wan hears arguing.

Though it’s not uncommon to hear discord in the wing of the temple where the Padawans make their residence, it isn’t the usual ruckus of Quin and Kit wrestling, or Shaak Ti demanding to know who had taken her Akul-tooth headdress again.

This time, it’s the voice of a Master filling the halls, berating his student with fond persistence.

“Padawan, my word is final.” Obi-Wan turns the corner as Plo Koon raises a talon at a figure huddled in blankets in the doorway. “You are too ill to travel.”

“But I’m almost better! And Shaak’s told me so much about the Togruta, and I want to see how big of an Akul she’s killed!” He recognizes the protests coming from your distinct yet muddled voice, and his vision confirms his guess as you come into sight, fabric draping across your body like a spirit. “I promise I’m fine, Master, please!”

Despite his mouth being completely covered by his breathing mask, Obi-Wan can almost detect the makings of a smile across the Jedi’s features. “The healers were adamant, my student. You’re to rest one more day. Perhaps, instead of stories of Akul, you can detail our sightings of the neebray mantas to your peers. I assure you, they are much bigger than any Akul you hope to see.” Abruptly, he turns to Obi-Wan in a way that makes him think the Master had sensed his presence long before he’d approached. “Padawan Kenobi, if you’re not terribly occupied, I have a favor to ask of you.”

Obi-Wan comes to a stop in front of the pair of you, your eyes dragging to his frame after shooting a disgruntled glance at your Master. “Master Koon?”

“I’m set to depart for Shili within the hour, and unfortunately, this one,” he gestures a robe-covered hand towards you, “is recovering from a mild case of Balmorra Flu and will be unable to accompany me. I would appreciate it immensely if you’d monitor my student to ensure that she does, in fact, fulfill her last day of bed rest.” Obi-Wan notices as you bristle at the notion of being babysat like a child, but says nothing as Plo continues. “The healers have been kind enough to deliver medicine and food. You’d need only to stay within the room.” Before Obi-Wan can reply that he’d have to seek the approval of his own Master, Koon finishes for him. “I’d be happy to request an excuse from the rest of your duties, but if I’m being quite honest, I’m aware that most of your training for the day has already been completed.”

Obi-Wan schools his own features in haste from revealing how impressed he is. Though, he really shouldn’t be surprised. Plo Koon was legendary amongst the younger generations for both his intuition and skill with a lightsaber. Still, he pauses.

“There’s no cause for worry, young one, she’s not contagious any longer. The sickness is in its last stages.” The Kel Dor assures him, somewhat humorously, but that’s not why Obi-Wan is hesitating.

He’s nervous — he’s never spent much time alone with you. It’s not that you’re unlikable, or intimidating — okay, maybe you are a little — but actually, you’re quite popular with the rest of his crèchemates. He’s only had the opportunity to spend time with you in the midst of his other friends, and the times you have had conversations by yourselves, he gets an uncomfortable twist in his stomach that he’s not sure he likes.

But Obi-Wan is a good Padawan. Trying to be, at least. And Master Koon is close friends with Qui-Gon.

“Certainly, Master.” He gives a slight bow at the middle of his waist. “I would gladly be of service.”

The Jedi nods at him gracefully, and bids a soft farewell to you as he departs the conversation and the dormitory wing. You mutter a goodbye of your own moments after, followed by what Obi-Wan thinks is a variation of be safe. Then, you turn haughtily into your bedroom, retreating with your nose high in the air. He follows with a smirk of amusement.

“Sorry you’ve been sidelined.” He offers, as you face plant dramatically onto the bed. You bounce head-first into the pillows, and he can feel the irritation radiating off of you. “I know it that goes.”

You lift your body enough to place your chin in your hands, and regard him with a softening quirk. “It’s okay. I was just excited to get out on a mission again after my last one got cut short. This wretched flu.”

You flop onto your back, but Obi-Wan can sense your resentment quickly fading as you pull up the sheets to your chest. He notes that you already seem to be complying with your Master’s orders, grateful at the thought of not having to force you into bed. Another thought passes through his head, reminding him of the specific name Plo Koon had mentioned earlier.

“Balmorra flu? Weren’t you on Dantooine?”

“We were. Unfortunately, the illness is not limited to the planet for which it is named. But how it made its way to Dantooine, the middle of nowhere, I’ve no idea.” You sniff harshly. “It’s a shame, too. I wanted to take some time to admire the grasslands, but Master Koon wanted to get us back to the temple before I got worse.” The pout on your face morphs into a far-off look, and while you’re daydreaming, he takes the time to admire you. “It was majestic, Obi-Wan, the rolling plains, the rivers — you’d have loved it, I think.”

To himself, he smiles warmly. Here you are, sinuses stuffed to the brim and wallowing in the discomfort of sickness, yet you still found it within yourself to think of him. He can see why you’d been spoken so highly of by the others before he’d had the courage to befriend you.

You had a good heart.

“I know what you mean.” He presents you with a new tissue as you toss a used one into the wastebasket by your bed, and you watch him speak intently. “Once, on a mission to Alderaan, my Master told me he’d save time to hike one of the mountains if we finished early. A meditation retreat, of sorts. We did, but just as we were prepared to go, I came down with nerf-pox. A youngling sneezed on me in the middle of the assignment.” Disdain paints his appearance, and you cough out a laugh at him behind your fist as you reach for something off your bedside table, where a steaming bowl and cup of water sits.

“To the experiences that disease took from us,” you raise the cup in the air as if you’re making a toast, and although he’s not holding one of his own, he mimes the action with a grin. “Here’s to hoping we’ll get to do them someday.”

As you raise the drink to your mouth, Obi-Wan can’t help but notice the way it trembles in your hand. Eyes narrowing, he takes in the slight shake of your arm. “You’re quite weak,” he moves closer to take the cup from you and set it back on the table. “I think I should feed you.”

Your eyebrows knit in defiance, but he’s already holding the bowl of soup, stirring the spoon in its depths. Immediately, his nose wrinkles in distaste.

“This smells horrible.”

You sigh in agreement, leaning your head back against the pillows. “Rootleaf stew. Master Yoda’s personal recipe.” As he lifts the utensil to your still-moving mouth, you add, “Thankfully, it doesn’t taste as bad as it stinks.”

He snickers quietly as you drink the liquid down with a small noise of disgust. Your face seems to relax after a minute, however, and he hopes the warm broth is soothing your throat. He offers you a bit more, but this time, you stare straight at him as your lips close around the spoon, and his wrist falters when you peer at him from beneath your lashes.

Soup dribbles down your chin and neck as you squeal in surprise, the heat of it making you jerk back. Obi-Wan drops the bowl onto the table as he frantically snatches up tissues to offer you between panicked apologies, not trusting himself to dab the droplets on your skin away himself.

“Sorry! I’m so sorry, I —” he stammers as you clean up what you can, blinking at him in amused surprise. You don’t look angry at him, but stars, does he feel bad. “Ah, I didn’t mean to. So much for helping you.” From the shoulders up, he burns bright with remorse, but you shake your head amusedly with bright eyes.

“It’s okay. I probably would have done the same to myself. You were right, I am too weak to carry anything.”

Sheepishly, Obi-Wan picks up the stew again, but places it in his lap for a moment as he waits for his body to stop freaking out, for lack of a better term. It’s good timing, too, because you promptly break into a hacking fit, coughing violently as he winces in his seat. After you blow your nose loudly, you seem to notice his expression, because you suddenly turn self-consciously away from him.

“I’m sorry, too. I can’t imagine I’m a pretty sight to see as of right now.”

He disagrees. Surprisingly, your physical state hasn’t been too affected. And even in spite of your slightly ruffled exterior, you’re still exuding the same liveliness that he can’t help but find attractive. In his mindlessness, Obi-Wan’s mouth acts before his brain as he responds. “I think you’re always pretty.”

You both freeze, eyes meeting in shocked gazes as he attempts to backtrack. “I — I mean, you’re a pretty sight to see —” Nope, that’s worse, kill me, Maker, kill me now —

“Obi — it’s okay,” you cut him off from embarrassing himself further, though your own voice is shrill. “I appreciate the compliment.”

His face flushes again, this time at the nickname more than his stupidity. He stares resolutely into the swirling broth as he fiddles with the spoon, and deafening silence fills the air between you as you both look anywhere but each other. Soon enough, though, you’re brave enough to break the quiet. With an even braver comment of your own.

“You know, you’re not too bad-looking either,” he peers at you cautiously, and your eyes are kind, offering comfort. He breathes out a long sigh, but manages a weak smile in return.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, and you nod at him easily. He’s jealous of the way you’re expressive, yet so effortlessly at ease in any scenario — someday, he swears, he’ll nail down his composure. He’ll be in complete control of his every emotion and have the coolest demeanor of all the Jedi.

Just, not today.

Obi-Wan forces himself to steel the muscles in his arms as he brings another spoonful of soup to your waiting mouth, and exhales in relief when he successfully avoids causing another mess. Unfortunately, it seems that you’re intent on making one, because as soon as you swallow, you’ve got another remark that you deliver all too casually for Obi-Wan’s liking.

“In fact, I’d say you’re the prettiest Padawan in the Order.”

He spills the entire bowl across your sheets.

#AND HE MAKES HIS RETURN!#rini writes #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi imagine #obi wan x reader #PADAWAN!OBI NATION RISE UPPP #sweet boy he is so cute #here is fluff for you guys before I release a really sad piece tomorrow #but until then ENJOY #rini reaches 175!#THANKS AGAIN FOR 300 I'LL HAVE A CELEBRATION SOON

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theshylittleelfgirl · 4 years

Text

Whew! this idea has been in my noggin for a while now and i finally had the brain power to actually write it! Horaaay for BIG BRAIN! If you liked this story please be sure to leave a comment to let me know if i should continue it or if you liked it, There's going to be some spelling errors i pray that you forgive that! It is awfully late here and my brain is fried right now lol

I added a little bit more to the story not much, It was really bothering me so i fixed it! Part 2 will be coming soon :D

Enjoy!❤

×××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

I was sitting in Levi's office reading a book on his couch, I have finished my daily routine, I decided to spend my free time with levi.

But that short fucker was To busy doing paperwork.

We haven't had sex in like a year....A Year!

I was always trying to get him in the mood, running my fingers up his sides in the morning trying to make my intentions clearer, but apparently he got all huffy and said 'Quit pestering me brat, I'm trying to sleep here.' and then he would roll back on his side facing away from me.

'What a rude shithead' i huffed.

Then an idea popped in my head, it was getting pretty late maybe just maybe we can have sex and fall asleep cuddling, It would usually help the both of us relax after a long day.

"Hey levi?" i said in an innocent voice.

"What?" he said irritated he looked up at me briefly then back down at his paperwork.

I strutted over to him standing behind his chair massaging his shoulders unbuttoning the top of his shirt ghosting my fingers over his collarbone. "I'm going to get ready for bed, why don't you join me?" i whispered seductively into his ear. "Maybe i can show you how flexible i've become." i nipped his earlobe.

"No, I can't leave this paperwork you go ahead and lay down." his face remained stoic not phased in the slightest.

I growled and stood in front of his desk slamming my hands down but not getting his attention what so ever "All you ever do is paperwork levi! i get its part of your job but fuck! we haven't had sex in a year, A Fucking Year Levi! i've tried everything to get your attention but you continuously refuse my advances, What do i have to do? Write "Fuck Me" on my forehead to get your attention?" i panted after my rant my face red with anger.

He finally looked at me for the first time this night his icy glare pierced through me like a dagger. "If all you want to do is spread your legs then your not fit to be in the scouts, You want to be fucked so bad? then go find someone else to do the job, I got priorities to attend to and you aren't one of them, Now shut the fuck up and leave me the hell alone!" he snarls when he was met with silence only then did he realize he fucked up, "Y/n, I-i.." he couldn't muster up the courage to apologize for his shitty words.

Hair fell in front of my eyes "If that's what you really think of me then i think our relationship is officially over Captain, I won't bother you ever again." i went into 'our' room grabbing a bag i began stuffing my belongings toiletries,clothes,drawings into said bag. He heard the dresser jores being opened and closed 'Shit! she's going to leave! do something moron!' he jumped out of his chair rushing into the room and saw me packing my things. "Y/n, baby, Wait please i didn't mean what i said i swear, I'm just stressed that's all." he tried placing a hand on my shoulder i shrugged it off. "Don't." i said darkly "Don't fucking touch me." once my things were packed i swung my bag on my shoulder walking right past him not sparing him a glance.

I reached the door i felt him grab my arm i halted my movements. "Please don't do this." he begged.

I ripped my arm out of his grip "I hope your paperwork can keep you warm at night, Captain, because i won't be anymore, Asshole." i opened the door slowly shutting it not wanting to wake up the other soldiers.

I walked the dark halls trying to find hanji's room 'I should of brought a lantern with me.' once i knew i was far enough away from levi's room i slid down a wall it was only then that his words started to sink in 'Asshole...what a fuckin asshole! Mikasa warned me about him why didn't i listen to her? god i'm so stupid.' i laid my bag beside me hugging my knee's to my chest i sighed 'I tried so hard to see his side on things, To understand his pain what he went through, Understanding how he was about as romantic as a cactus, His cleaning obsession's, I tried so hard for him.' I buried my face in my knee's silent tears fell down my face.

I began to sob 'Why would he say something so fucking cruel?!' hugging my knee's tighter i began to shake.

"Y/n?" he deep masculine voice echoed in the halls.

I looked up to see a bright orange light illuminate a tall manly figure then i looked up to their face.

"Erwin?" my voice cracked

"Y/n, What happened? your eyes are almost swollen shut." he kneeled in front of me.

"Levi he....he." tears began to pour from my eyes. "He hates me, He thinks i'm some kind of whore who will spread her legs openly for any man, He told me i wasn't fit for the scouts, that i'm basically a burden on him." i sobbed into my hands shaking even harder.

Erwin sighs "Levi has always had a sharp tongue sometimes he doesn't think things through clearly." he looked to your side and noticed a bag. "You have no where to sleep, Why don't you come into my office and you can take my bed i'll take the couch, How does that sound?" he gently placed a hand on your shoulder.

I looked up at him tears still falling from my eyes. "I'm not going to kick you out of your own room Erwin, i wouldn't feel right doing that to you." you looked away embarrassed that the commander saw you in this state, but he's seen me like this countless times he and i were friends after all we would share our burdens over a glass of whiskey once in a while.

He took my small hands into his calloused ones and squeezed them reassuringly "I have no problem with sleeping on the couch, I hardly ever use the bed anyways, So you wouldn't be taking anything away from me." he smiled gently.

I looked into his calm ocean eyes i hesitated for a minute but nodded "Okay, i will if it's truly no problem." sighing knowing there was no arguing with him.

"Its settled then, Lets get you to bed, You must be exhausted." He let go of my hands and stood up he lent his hand to me, I took it and he helped me stand noticing my tear stained cheeks he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a handkerchief he offered it to me.

I took it from him and gently began dabbing the soft fabric on my eyes and cheeks, I offered it back to him and he held up his hand "Keep it, You need it more then i do, Besides i have a million of those things in my dresser." he chuckled picking up the lantern.

A small smile formed on my lips i nodded stuffing the handkerchief into my pocket.

"Shall we then? you'll catch your death in this cold hallway." he inclined his head in the direction of his room/office.

I reached down and grabbed my bag off of the floor slinging it over my shoulder once more.

"Lets go." i simply said erwin began walking down the dark hallways if it wasn't for his lantern lighting the way i would of been lost forever in these damnable stone hallways.

"If you don't mind me asking, Why was he being so harsh this time? not that i'm excusing those awful untrue things he said." eyes glued to the steps in front of him.

I looked away from his back my voice deeply saddens. "I just wanted him to come to bed and relax with me, I'm sorry if this is to much info but we always made love and then we would cuddle afterwards whenever he was stressed and he was extremely stressed tonight, so i offered to help him relax and that's when he..." i choked down my sob breathing rapidly.

"E-erwin do you think he's...?" i couldn't finish the words 'Would he stoop so low that he would cheat on me? Am i not enough for him anymore? does he take me for a woman who would sleep around with other men? Why would he say those horrible things to me? What have i done wrong other then try to love him flaws and all?' a million thoughts ran through my mind, i felt a weight on my head i looked up to see erwin looking at me sadly he ruffled my hair.

"No, Levi is definitely not the type to run around, He really loves you y/n, I bet he feels absolutely awful for what he said and i imagine he's beating himself up over it, Levi is a tough person to get along with but you have dedicated your heart and soul to him, He wouldn't throw that away just for some random woman, Not only are you the bravest most loyal soldier your the most kindest caring person as well, That's a rare thing in these times, He's lucky to have someone like you y/n." he took his hand away so he could look into my eyes.

I began to tear up again. "His words cut me deep erwin, I don't know when or if i'll ever forgive him, his hurtful words are still fresh in my mind, But i do appreciate what you said to me, That's probably the nicest thing i have heard in a while." i smiled through the tears.

He nods. "Its going to take some time for you to heal and that's completely understandable, You are more then welcome to stay in my room for as long as you want to, But if you ever feel uncomfortable, Hanji isn't that far from where i am, She would more then welcome you to stay, Just be prepared to be interrogated she doesn't give up easily." he sighs

"I'm fully aware." I giggled a little taking the handkerchief dabbing my eyes again.

He smiled and began walking again i followed him looking back into the dark hallway wondering what he's doing right now, i sighed directing my head towards the back of the commander.

Unbeknownst to you, Levi lingered behind one of the archways (is that what they call it? its 3am give me a break lol) listening in on yours and erwins chat.

He clenched his hands into a tight fist knuckles whitening. "I fucked up, Now eyebrows is going to take her away from me, I'm such a fool." he ran his fingers through his hair.

"I have to fix this, No, I Need to fix this, But how? i'm clearly shit at my words." he sighed

"Maybe hanji can help?" he started to feel hopeful, he was either desperate or crazy to even consider help from the mad scientist, Definitely crazy.

With his mind made up, He pushed off the archway(?) looking at that orange light fade away into the darkness once more he turned away and began walking back to his room.

"Please don't give up on me y/n." he pleaded.

To Be Continued.

#levi ackerman #levi x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #levi attack on titan #angst #romance #comfort #jealousy

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