#they’re just constantly one-upping each other and then they never speak of it again

[ike-mcswains-mortician]

everything about the pyramid in dndads season 1 is so fucking funny, cause it’s basically just

Anthony: hey guys here’s a neat magical item! :D

the party: you walked into the WRONG ROOM, MOTHERFUCKER! *drops the pyramid and completely destroys his plans for the neverwinter arc, then dips*

Anthony: you walked into the WRONG ROOM, MOTHERFUCKER! *kills their wives*

the party: you walked into the WRONG ROOM, MOTHERFUCKER! *turns the pyramid into a Fry’s Electronics and steals a drone to completely obviate the ravenloft siege*

Anthony: you walked into the WRONG ROOM, MOTHERFUCKER! *kills doug and then they NEVER GO BACK TO THE PYRAMID*

[bewarethecircles]

After a vacation in Alpha Centauri, Gabriel and Beelzebub come back to earth and move in together. They proceed to be the worst and most baffling neighbors anyone in the neighborhood has ever experienced. 

They introduced themselves as Bee and Jim, but immediately started laughing about it, so people are pretty sure those aren't their real names. 

Neither of them seem to have jobs, but they must be rich, because their house is massive and they're always wearing fancy clothes, and their wallets are bursting with money. Maybe they’re in the mafia?

Speaking of fancy clothes, “Jim” is always wearing designer suits. There is an ongoing game where people attempt to take a picture of him in any other clothes. One time, an enterprising teenager went so far as to sneak over in the middle of the night to look into his bedroom (hoping he’d be in pajamas), and saw him still in a suit, Standing on Top of the Bed, eyes wide open and Smiling Brightly. (Gabriel has not gotten the hang of sleeping yet.) (The teenager refuses to go near the house ever again.)

The short one, “Bee,” is consistently trailed by flies. This is alarming to everyone. They say that they're a “fly-keeper,” but people are pretty sure that's not a thing. Do they carry rotting meat around or something?

Bee also seems to be constantly changing appearances. One day they have a buzz cut, the next day their hair goes to their mid-back. Their eyes are a different colour every time you see them. People have set up cameras to take pictures of them on different days, and upon comparing them they are Definitely almost 6 inches taller this week. Even their facial features shift. 

It gets to the point where people decide Jim must just have multiple partners, and be lying about it. (“Multiple partners that all look similar and are never seen together?” the opposition will point out. When asked if they have a better theory, they can never answer.)

The two of them will have romantic moments Anywhere, including standing in the middle of the highway staring into each others eyes. By all rights they should have been run over, but in a bizarre coincidence every car in the area ran out of fuel and stopped moving at that exact moment. People want to blame Jim for it (he did make a strange hand movement, after all), but that would just be absurd.

They use the absolute worst pet names for each other. A list of overheard ones is being recorded. “My rotten cabbage?” “My hell-bringer?” “Dearest packet of crisps??” 

You cannot let them notice that you're disgusted by their lovey-doveyness. They will either get exponentially more cringey, or straight up insult you until you run away crying. Or both. 

“Everyday” by Buddy Holly will be audible to the whole block at all times. Do they know other songs exist? Don't they get bored of this one?? Why is it so loud???

There’s a statue of Jim in the front yard. Its 20 feet tall and definitely a HOA violation, but people are too scared to mention it. Both Bee and Jim will come out at different times and spend hours staring at it dreamily. 

People would hate them, but ever since they moved in the weather has been perfect, crime is at an all time low, and there’s little trucks that go around selling hot chocolate, and those things Probably cant be because of them, but still...

Plus, Jim doesn’t understand how money works at all, so he’ll give you $300 for a bag of chips. It's endearing, even if he is sometimes a jerk.

Bee does seem to know how money works, but they’ll frequently pay even more than Jim, especially if the person seems overworked and the place is under-staffed. They say they have experience with it.

After a month of them living there, most of the neighborhood is in a group chat created to discuss the two of them. Beelzebub is secretly in the chat, and reads their favourite theories to Gabriel. 

A rumour starts going around that they're an angel and a demon in disguise, but no one can agree which one is which. 

Beelzebub is the one who started the rumour. 

If anyone writes a fic with any of this by all means tag me I'd love to see it!!

[foggyfrogss]

「 OXIDIZE 」 ˎˊ

tf! Sukuna x f! Reader | Warnings: MDNI, sexual content

Discord 21+

Summary: You and Sukuna indulge in each other for the night.

He was not a gentleman, but you could say he was a gentle man.

With the way his large hands softly move over your body, it resonates throughout you intensely. As if he’d left bruises. His touch lights your skin ablaze, leaving you hot. Yet, he touches you like a freshly bloomed wildflower, gently picking it to avoid bruising.

Perhaps he understands just how big the difference is in your sizes; a fear of hurting you. No matter how many times you explain to him he can’t hurt you, the same tenderness remains.

Pink hair tickles at your exposed skin, dancing softly as he kisses the valley between your breasts. His nose drags into your skin while his silkened lips demonstrate his hunger. You can feel the way his heavy breaths puff into your skin, it’s warm and feeds the eager butterflies inside of you.

They swarm excitedly around your core.

Four arms seem a bit excessive, but the thought slips when you feel them hold you as they do. The top pair hold your wrists in place beside your head while the bottom find places on your body that crave attention. In the curve or your waist one hand rests as the other holds himself up. Again, he doesn’t want to put too much pressure into your wrists; scared of hurting you.

From above, you see the concentrated look of his face, twisted into his famous resting scowl. His eyes are closed, but they open to gaze up at you. He probably sensed your attention.

Red; it’s deep and rousing. They’re discernibly hungry.

Hungry for you.

All four gaze up, his left side hooded by the blanket of pink, full eyelashes. Eyelashes you grew to be jealous of. A faint, but evident crimson blush decorates his cheeks. Not because he is embarrassed, but because he is on fire. Inflamed, he is pressing into your core. His hardened cock is making itself known. You return his amorous gestures as you buck up into him.

Yet, as he presses into you, he’s moved his head up further. Hot kisses trail from your chest to your collar bone, spreading slowly to the curve of your neck. You’re tilting your head to the side, giving him more access; more control.

His sharp teeth lightly graze across your skin. Though it’s already littered with love marks, he plants more, claiming his territory.

Tongue following, it runs a stripe up to the start of your jawline below your ear. His breathing is still heavy next to your ear. It’s hot. A heavy grunt, from deep within his chest, could be heard as you continue to press up into him. Any distance between the two of you needed to be closed.

He’s kissing down your jawline, worshipping your skin like it was the finest meal brought to him. Ironically enough, his favorite meal was women.

He just would rather devour you in this way. It allowed him to have you as many times as he pleased.

“You are the most intoxicating and dangerous woman I have ever met,” he tells you. His lips press a light kiss to the corner of your mouth, causing your lips to burn with anticipation.

Ryomen Sukuna had called you dangerous. You wondered how to take that… Though stunned, you realize just how shocking it was for this man to even admit that… It was a compliment, a kind you were sure he’d never admit. He was a proud man, sure of himself and his abilities.

“I think of ripping your flesh from your body constantly, just to see how you taste…” He’s looking down at you with his heavy eyes. Your chest raises as you take in a deep breath, breathless from his words. “I bet you’re sweet, like a forbidden fruit.”

“Yet, the very fact that I couldn’t have you again after that irks me,” he’s muttering out huskily. “I would go mad.”

For someone who touches you so gently, he speaks with strong vehement. His brutish, aggressive vocabulary and behavior completely unparalleled to the actions in which he presents to you.

The man is a killer, eating humans for pure enjoyment and pleasure. A selfish man who is exceptionally sadistic. Cold-hearted but not for you. His heart warms you in ways no other being could. Nothing could compare.

You allow him to devour you in the way he does now, even knowing he’d never let you go.

A prisoner to Ryomen Sukuna.

From below, you admire the darkness of his tattoos that embellish his striking face. His fair skin glows from the lanterns in the room, but the pink of his cheeks remains prominent. Your eyes flicker around, following the lines on his jaw to his chin then back to his eyes.

Pink eyebrows furrow together while he studies you from above. It was as if he casted a curtain of pure lust by the way he gazed down.

His jaw clenches.

“I am yours,” you finally say in your hushed voice. The words pass easily through your lips, only because you were certain you meant it.

Eager to say it.

He seems to enjoy your words. Lips raise into a proud smirk as a deep, but quiet chuckle erupts from him. His blush seems to have grown darker, which causes your lips to turn up a bit. It thrills you to see such a beast crested in a rosy hue that you’d caused.

It makes you proud.

“I am yours,” you repeat again, reaching a hand towards his face. His skin is on fire, lighting your fingertips ablaze as you’re caressing his cheek. It’s soft, forming into the palm of your hand as you cup his face. Your fingertips just barely reach the edge of his hairline past his ear.

“So have me.”

Your words push him over the edge, causing a low growl to erupt from his throat. He’s moving his hips up a bit, positioning himself to fit you.

With an airy gasp, you’re feeling the bottom side of his shaft slide up against your clit, gathering your wetness. His size could be felt even from the minuscule movements. Though you’ve had him many times before, it always felt new. The pure excitement and intimidation never left.

You watch as he leans his hips back, only to bring them forward, placing his tip against your needy entrance. You’re taking in a shaking breath, eager to feel him… He’s sliding in without issue, thanks to your wetness.

Instantly you are taking hold of his arms, releasing his face. Your fingers latching into his tattoos biceps that cage you in.

His cock stretches you, pushing deep into you and kissing your cervix with his large tip. “God,” you whimper out, clenching your teeth as he slides his hips further into you, bottoming out completely. Even now, you’re amazed you’re able to take all of him.

Sukuna’s body is fully pressed into you, stomach against yours. His elbows dig into the fabric of the futon as he supports himself. His other pair of arms do the same, unable to do anything else as he presses into you. It’s just enough, you realize. He would not crush you.

When he begins to slowly drag out a bit, you feel a puff of warm air spread over your face. You realize how close his face is to yours, feeling the softness of his lips just barely touching your cheek.

“You are so tight,” he’s murmuring into your cheek as he presses a kiss. He’s bucking into you once more, grunting into your skin.

Your clit is suddenly stimulated, feeling a warmness as if he’d placed a hand down there… You’re moaning, biting your lip.

It’s his second cock, probably the one closer to his stomach. The top one. It’s sliding against your swollen cunt as he drags himself in and out of you.

His top right hand moves to cup your face, angling your head to your left so he can access your neck. Lips finding your sensitive skin, you’re panting as he quickens his pace, pressing his body into you a bit harder. You realize he’s attempting to stimulate his other cock this way.

It lights you on fire, feeling him use you this way.

You’re moving your left hand between the gap between his two arms, placing a hand on his back. He nips at the skin of your neck, grunting in rhythm with his thrusts. You take your other hand and find the hair on the back of his head, holding onto it.

With a light tug, he’s growling again, directly into your ear now.

His thrusts are a good pace, not slow but not fast, they’re just right. It’s hitting the sweet spot within you each time. His top cock helping you reach your climax with each slide.

You can feel every inch of him pump in and out of you.

Yet, you feel a devious idea come to mind, which makes you remove your hand from his back.

Between your bodies your hand moves, traveling low enough to find what you are looking for. His tip thrusts up, peeking between your stomachs and you wrap your eager hand around it, finding his shaft further down. It makes him halt his movements. Curiously, he’s looking at you now. “Keep going,” you plead, sighing. “I am close.”

He continues with no issue, thrusting into the cage of your fingers. The added tightness is good, you note. Only due to the fact that you could feel the way his hands tighten in the fabric of the futon below you. You were scared he may rip it.

In one thrust, you’re crying out, feeling the sudden harshness of it. It wasn’t painful, but you weren’t prepared for it. “Ryo…” you’re mumbling out in a whimper, dragging your nails through his hair as he fucks into you. His cock inside of you throbs, just like the one in your hand. You could only imagine how good it felt for him in this moment.

Your hand is placed just above your clit, so his dick is still sliding against your folds. Each thrust brings you closer. Vision growing hazy and bright as it builds up in your core.

At this point you’re closing your eyes, whimpering uncontrollably. “I-I’m…” you’re stuttering, clenching your hand tighter around his cock as you feel the orgasm begin to blossom. “You’re so good,” you hear him praise you.

A silent gasp comes from your lips as you throw your head back. Body exploding from the intensity of your orgasm. It has your clenching your cunt around his cock, which makes him hiss in return.

As the waves of pleasure cascade around you, he’s still relentlessly thrusting into you. In your ears you can feel and hear your heartbeat; it’s erratic. You keep hold of him in your hand, wanting to help as much as you can.

Soon enough, you feel him press his lips to yours, taking in your parted lips. His tongue finds yours instantly. Thrusts become uneven, bucking into you in a broken pattern. You know he’s close, which makes you moan.

He groan into your mouth and you feel an added wet heat between your bodies. Inside, you feel him release, filling you completely. Sukuna always came a lot… So you’d have to bathe again you were sure.

“Shit,” you hear him curse after he pulls his lips from yours. You’re looking up at him in a dazed trance, completely exhausted. Though the two of you had done much more in a session, this time wore you out anyways.

He’s slowly pulling out of you, leaning back and sitting on his knees. You’re sighing as you take in the sight before you, watching him do the same to you.

“What a lovely sight,” you hear Sukuna chuckle out.

You’re covered in his cum. It’s pooled up on your stomach and running down the sides of your body. You were sure it was running out of your cunt as well.

“I can bathe again,” you tell him, knowing he won’t sleep soiled. Yet, he’s reaching a hand between your legs, sticking two digits into your pussy. “Ah!” You jolt, feeling the overstimulation from it. His two large fingers pump in and out of you a couple times before pulling back out.

“I had to make sure it all stayed in there,” he says, leaning back down to hover over you. Sukuna presses a soft kiss to your lips before bringing his fingers to them. “Clean them,” he orders. Your stomach does a flip, but you follow his orders, feeling his fingers slide between your swollen lips.

You taste yourself and him, mixed together into one salty and sweet taste. It just about riles you back up.

One of your hands holds his wrist as you lick his fingers clean, pulling them out once you’re done.

“I’ll wash you,” Sukuna is finally saying, crawling off of you to stand. As he stands you take in all that he is, four arms and everything. A beast.

You ignore the fact that he’s about to walk around his shrine fully nude, but you realize he doesn’t care. It’s his shrine. It’s also yours, you note, as he picking you up from the futon. His bottom pair of arms holds you bridal style against him, top pair hiding your nude body the best they can.

“Toys last longer if you take care of them,” is all Sukuna mumbles to you while he exits the room towards the bathing area.

[dilfl0v3rss]

ony is the best baby daddy like he just has that energyyy 😫

rightttttt like he gets the kids on time and if he’s late he will always let you know. he knows how to do his daughters hair and always makes sure his son has a haircut. his kids are always dressed nice and he always makes sure they’re taking care of each other as well as taking care of their beautiful mother.

he still finds himself looking out for you too, always telling the kids to “order sum for mommy” when he takes them out to eat or to “always make sure mommy’s not working too hard”. even on days he isn’t supposed to have them he’d gladly take them if you were feeling overwhelmed. if you’re feeling sick he’ll literally sleep at your house, soup and medicine sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch as he slept just incase you were to wake up in the middle of the night.

he’d constantly “forget” money at your house after he leaves too, telling you to “just get yourself sum nice”. if you give the money back anyways he’d give it to his oldest child, telling them to put it in your wallet for him.

when it’s his weekend with the kids he’d call you every couple of hours to let you know he has everything under control since he knows how worried you could get when you haven’t heard from him i awhile.

he always speaks highly of you to the kids, telling his daughters stories of when the two of you were young and in love and telling his sons stories of how strong you were for him when he couldn’t be strong for himself. your kids would honestly be what got the two of you back together. they’d constantly tell you the stories their father would tell them, reminding you of how happy the two of you used to be and making you realize that you didn’t even know why the two of you called it quits in the first place.

as soon as you called ony he’d answer on the first ring, throwing millions of questions at you since you never really called unless he had the kids. you’d shut him up by asking if he could come over to talk for a little in which he replied almost instantly with a yes. he’d be over there in less than fifteen minutes letting you lead him to your bedroom to talk just incase your kids came downstairs for some water or a late night snack.

of course the two of you didn’t get to talk for more than ten minutes, his dick shoved deep into you as he held his hand over your mouth. “shhh mama you gotta be quiet. ion want you t’wake the kids” he’d whisper, fucking into you deeper as he watched your teary eyes roll to the back of your skull. you’d mumble back a muffled “mhm” as you felt the pad of his thumb begin to circle your clit. you’d whine and moan for him loader and loader, turning him on to the point where his grunts and groans began to come out at a higher volume as well. soon enough the both of you were deep in bliss, fucking on each other just like you used to. you’d tell him how much you missed him and how you’ve never stopped loving him and he’d gladly say it back, deepening his stroke as he left passionate kisses on your lips.

as the two of you finished ony would lay you back down, letting sleep claim you as he moved towards the door to check on his little angels. as soon as he turned the doorknob loud shuffles could he heard from the hallway, the sound of a bunch of feet running towards one of the bedrooms and little whispers of “sh sh shh” and “be quiet” coming from it as he made his way down the hall to check on his “sleeping” children. he couldn’t help but smile when he seen them cuddled up together on a large blanket of the floor, some of the smaller ones in bed with the oldest. they had different rooms, but chose to sleep together often since they were all so close.

ony couldn’t help but notice the small smiles on each of their faces, nothing but excitement and joy rushing through them as they thought about how happy much happier their parents will be now that they’re together again.

i didn’t even mean to write this i just let my brain leak all over the place…

[gotham--fc]

Rivals - A Jessie Fleming Imagine

Request: Jessie and R both play at UCLA but R plays for the US national team and the media invents a rivalry between them, both Jessie and R get annoyed at being constantly asked about their 'rivalry', they both talk to each other about it and confess their feelings

A/N: I will probably even less active than I am now (if that's possible) I just started school again and I'm very stressed and booked n busy

“So Jessie,” The reporter began. Jessie looked over to where she heard him speak. “You’re about to start at UCLA after these Olympics, and I’m sure you know, but American player Y/N Y/L/N committed to UCLA as well. Do you think your rivalry with her will effect team dynamics at UCLA?”

Jessie really hated media. She was an introvert at heart and if she had it her way, the media wouldn’t be allowed with 500 feet of the team after a game. They weren’t even scheduled to play the US this tournament unless they both made the finals. Still, all they want to ask is about Jessie’s ‘rivalry’ with Y/N. Jessie doesn’t have a rivalry with anyone, and she hasn’t met Y/N off the field even once. They don’t even really interact on the field when they do play, so Jessie has no idea where the ‘rivalry’ theory came from. Except that they’re both the youngest members of their teams, the same age, both midfielders.

“I don’t think that’s going to effect the team at all,” Jessie says, “I have nothing but respect for her as a player and I think she’s a really strong midfielder and she’s very skilled, so I’m confident that we’re both going to play important roles at UCLA and I’m just excited to get started.”

“You might end up facing the US in the finals, the US obviously are the reigning gold medalists, is that something you and the team are thinking about?”

“Not really,” Jessie said honestly, “That’s not our focus right now because nothing is guaranteed, so our focus right now is on our next game. We put ourselves in a good spot coming out of the group stage, uh, in first place, so we’re just focused on the quarterfinal games.”

***

“Y/N, your focus is obviously on winning gold, but can I ask how you’re feeling about joining UCLA this fall?”

“Yeah,” Y/N says, “I’m thrilled to be joining UCLA and I’m excited to further my development as a player and hopefully help the team win a championship.”

Y/N doesn’t really understand why they always ask her to do media. She doesn’t believe anyone really wants to hear from her over some of the vets. But still, here she is, trying not to pull her hair out at these stupid questions.

“Jessie Fleming is also joining UCLA this year, have you spoken to her at all? We know you two have a sort of on field rivalry, have you spoken to her about the both of you joining UCLA?”

“No, we’ve never really crossed paths outside the field, so I haven’t spoken to her. She’s a great player, though, and I think she’ll be an important part of the team at UCLA.”

***

A lot of the players at UCLA are roommates. Even the freshman in their dorms tend to get paired up with someone from the team.  Jessie ends up rooming with Teagan Micah, a keeper from Australia. Jessie likes her, she’s funny, and she’s pretty outgoing, so she drags Jessie along to frosh week activities and Jessie knows if she was left alone she would’ve spent the entirety of her first weeks at school either in class, at practice, or at home.

They have their first practice pretty soon after they move in, since the season starts up right away. The first practice is mostly getting to know each other and the coaches and the style of play they want. It’s different than how Canada plays, so it takes Jessie a second to adjust.

After practice, one of the senior girls calls the team over. She invites everyone to a team bonding night at her place that night.

Jessie gets ready in her dorm with Teagan. Jessie wants to leave so they’ll arrive a bit early, but Teagan just laughs at her, and tells her if a party starts at 8pm, people won’t arrive until 9pm. Jessie wants to say it’s not a party, it’s just for the team to get to know each other, but she doesn’t.

Turns out, it’s a party.

Not only is the soccer team there, but so is the basketball team, the football team, teams that Jessie can’t recognize. She stays near Teagan most of the night, not feeling the most comfortable with the loud music, the drinking, the number of people crammed in a tiny living room. Jessie loses track of Teagan after someone bumps into her, then someone steps in between her and Teagan. Instead of continuing to struggle through people to find Teagan, Jessie goes into the kitchen which is mercifully less full.

Jessie grabs a clean cup and fills it with water from the sink. She hears a commotion and turns, seeing Y/N with a small group enter the kitchen. They make eye contact, and Jessie waves. Y/N nods in acknowledgement. The group begins yelling about shots, and Jessie takes that as her cue to leave. She tries to find Teagan, but it’s impossible, and instead she finds Hallie Mace.

“Hallie!” Jessie yells over the music, “Can you tell Teagan I left? In case she wonders where I went?”

“Yeah, sure Jessie,” Hallie says, “Are you having fun?”

Jessie smiles and nods, and she knows it looks forced, but it satisfies Hallie, who Jessie figures is a little tipsy.

Jessie makes her way outside and walks home, the cool air a relief after how hot it was inside.

Jessie is asleep by the time Teagan comes home, and either Teagan was really quiet, or Jessie was really asleep, because Jessie didn’t hear her come in. The only sign that Teagan did come home is Teagan sleeping in her bed in the clothes she wore last night, hair sticking up in all directions. Jessie sets some Gatorade and Advil on the nightstand for her before she leaves for class.

***

It’s not that Y/N is intentionally avoiding Jessie.

There is truly no bad blood or actual rivalry or whatever people want to believe. It’s just that there’s not much overlap between them except on the field. They’re not in the same program, so they don’t share classes together, they don’t really share the same friends, outside the team. Y/N is friends with the people in her class, other student athletes, and Jessie is friends with people from her classes, and the soccer team. Y/N doesn’t even really notice it, until the online comments start.

It starts with a clip from one of their games. Jessie and Y/N were both on the bench, after being subbed out, and Jessie sat after grabbing water and her pinny, and Y/N stayed standing.

omg they haaate each other

they won’t even sit together its so over

LMAO Y/N really can’t stand Canadians there’s miles of space on that bench to sit and she STANDS???

Y/N frowns when she sees it. It wasn’t intentional, she wasn’t not sitting because she didn’t want to sit with Jessie. She prefers standing for a bit after she’s subbed out. It’s a mini cool down, and she likes bringing her heartrate down before she sits and fully relaxes.

Then it’s the clip from the Olympics, when Y/N said she doesn’t talk to Jessie. All Y/N meant by that is that they hadn’t crossed paths, through no fault of theirs, it’s just how things happened. Of course, everyone decided she meant that she refuses to talk to Jessie.

There’s rumours on campus about a bad fight the two had, about how they played against each other with their national teams and after they got into it off the field. Another lie, because they’ve truly never encountered each other after a game. Still, some of Y/N’s new friends ask her about it, ask her what Jessie did, what really went down. Y/N tells them the same thing each time, nothing happened, there’s no hatred or rivalry, they’re simply two people whose lives don’t really overlap and that’s all there is.

***

USA and Canada don’t even play each other at the next FIFA window. The US plays in the SheBelieves Cup and Canada plays in the Algarve Cup. All Jessie wants to do is focus on the games. She can’t, however, because the first media appearance she does, the first question is about Y/N.

“She’s a great player,” Jessie says, “She brings a lot to the team and I’m happy that for most of the time she’s on my team and not playing against me.”

It doesn’t help that her teammates bother her about it too.

“How is it really?” Janine asks, “Does the team have to build a barrier between you guys?”

“Janine,” Jessie sighs, “We don’t hate each other. We’re literally normal teammates.”

“Oh, come on, you won’t even tell me the juicy details?” Janine whines, “I’m your best friend!”

“Beckie, leave her alone,” Sophie Schmidt says. Jessie almost thanks Sophie, then Sophie keeps talking. “Jessie doesn’t want to spend her rare time away from her enemy thinking about her.”

“She’s not my enemy!” Jessie snaps, “You guys suck.”

***

“Sooooo…” Kelley slides in next to Y/N at the lunch table. “How are things at school?”

“Good?” Y/N says, “Why?”

“I’m just wondering!” Kelley says, “I want to make sure you’re handling things, you know, balancing school with soccer, all those things.”

“Yeah, it’s good. I’m good.”

“Aaand the team is good?”

“Why are you being so weird?” Y/N says.

“I’m not! Alex, am I being weird?” Kelley yells over at Alex across the room.

“You usually are,” Alex comes over and joins them at the table, “What are you being weird about now Kel?”

“I’m just asking her how school is!” Kelley insists. Alex rolls her eyes.

“Kelley wants to ask how Jessie Fleming is, but she’s trying to be subtle about it.”

“Alex!”

“Jessie is fine,” Y/N interrupts before the two can start bickering.

“Do you guys get along?” Kelley asks.

“Yeah, we’re fine,” Y/N sighs, “Are you seriously talking about that stupid rivalry thing? That’s just a bunch of BS.”

“Do you guys hang out? Are you friends?”

“Oh my god,” Y/N groans, “Can’t I eat without everyone bringing up Jessie? They’re not even in the same tournament as us, can I not get a fucking break?”

Kelley and Alex share a look.

***

It only gets worse from there. As Canada and the US start playing each other more, and the longer Jessie and Y/N play together at UCLA, and seemingly don’t get along, the more they get asked about it, the more comments are made online, the more frustrated Y/N gets.

Y/N sludges through the mud on her way to practice. It’s been unexpectedly rainy the past few days. Y/N thought LA was supposed to be hot and sunny all year round, and she thought she would spend her days basking in the sun, wearing suntan lotion and getting tan, not stepping in mud and puddles. When she gets to the field, she’s surprised the only other person there is Jessie.

“Am I really late or really early?” Y/N asks.

“I was asking myself the same thing,” Jessie says, “I’m always early but usually the coaches are already here.”

Y/N sets her bag down on the least muddy spot, and shakes her head.

“I thought LA was supposed to be sunny,” Y/N says. Jessie laughs.

“The rain is actually a relief for me,” Jessie says, “There’s not this much sun in Canada, I’m not used to it.”

Y/N laughs. Of course the Canadian likes the rain.

“I’m not surprised no one else showed up,” Y/N says, “The field is a bit waterlogged.” Y/N points down at her feet, her cleats sunk an inch into the mud.

“You can leave if you want,” Jessie says, “I’m gonna stay and run around for a bit, but you don’t have to stay if you’d rather get out of the mud.”

Y/N considers it. She would really like to go back to her dorm and take a hot shower. But she thinks of Jessie, here all alone, and she can’t leave.

“No, I’ll stay, might as well get some work in for the game this weekend.”

Y/N thinks Jessie means she’s going to stay and run drills, so Y/N waits for her to be ready to warm up. She’s too focused on the way her cleats are getting caked in mud to notice the mischievous smile on Jessie’s face. Y/N gasps and jumps back as a wad of mud hits her chest. She looks at Jessie who’s laughing.

“Oh, it’s on.”

Y/N pounces before Jessie can run, tackling her into the mud. They roll around until they’re both covered in mud and laughing so hard their sides hurt. They run around, trying to push each other into puddles. After a bit, Y/N suggests they play 1 on 1 against each other to ‘see who’s really the better midfielder’. They go back and forth a bit, and the score remains even, both equally matched. It goes until Jessie’s up by one, having stripped the ball from Y/N on defense. Jessie dribbles up to Y/N and Y/N knows immediately that she made a mistake, committing too far one way and Jessie easily goes the other. She does it without thinking, one second watching Jessie cut the other way and the next she has her arms around Jessie’s waist, pulling her back until the two of them are tripping backwards into the mud.

Jessie sputters, mouth gaping open.

“That’s a foul! That’s a red!”

“There’s no refs!” Y/N says, “No refs, no rules! We’re tied again, you didn’t get past me.”

“We are not tied! That doesn’t count!” Jessie says, “I had you beat! I fooled you so bad you had to foul me to stop me!”

“What foul? I didn’t hear a foul call,” Y/N knows she’s being annoying, but she refuses to concede the point. “The rules were you had to get past me, and you didn’t get past me. You lost the ball, therefore, my point.”

“You little…”

Before Y/N can react, Jessie is up and running to the ball. She starts dribbling it away from Y/N.

“There! I recovered the ball and got past you! My point!”

“Get back here!” Y/N chases after her.

Y/N runs after Jessie, yelling the whole time, with Jessie yelling back at her. Y/N almost has her, has her fingers in Jessie’s jersey, ready to give it a tug back, and she startles to a stop when a voice rings out.

“You know practice was canceled today, right?” Teagan stands on the edge of the field.

“We sort of figured that,” Y/N says, out of breath.

“Are the two of you going to clean up before team dinner, or is being covered in the mud the new style?”

“I forgot about dinner,” Jessie says, “We should go shower. It’s going to take a while to get all this mud off.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Y/N yells after them as they walk away.

***

They don’t necessarily start hanging out after that. They still exist in different circles, but it’s more like they partner up in practice, or sit together at team meals, or Y/N plops into the seat behind Jessie on the bus.

Comments start to swirl again after one of their games against USC. USC is one of their biggest rivals and the stands are always packed, each team fighting for a win. UCLA pulled out the win, thanks to a goal from Jessie. Jessie gets pulled into an on field interview after the game and Y/N sneaks up behind her and dumps her almost full Gatorade on Jessie’s head.

“I’ll get you back for that!” Jessie yells, before clearly remembering she’s in the middle of an interview. “Sorry,” Jessie says, “What was the question?”

The clip circulates, people asking if they’ve squashed their beef, if it’s all for show, or if they’re really friends. Y/N rolls her eyes at all the comments.

They end up playing against each other with their national teams in a friendly. While in the tunnel waiting to head out on the field, Y/N finds where Jessie’s standing in line.

“Psst, Fleming,” Y/N gets her attention, “Can I get your jersey after the game?”

“Sure,” Jessie says, “But I don’t want yours. I’d rather die than wear American colours.”

Y/N sticks her tongue out at Jessie, but smiles when Jessie has to turn away to keep from laughing. She catches Kelley staring at her, raising her eyebrows. What? Y/N mouths at her. Kelley raises her arms in surrender and focuses back at the front.

After the game Y/N and Jessie meet in the middle of the field. Y/N already has her jersey off. She holds it out to Jessie.

“The whole point of a jersey swap is the swapping of jerseys, now give.”

Jessie rolls her eyes and pulls off her jersey, handing it to Y/N. They put on the others jersey and Jessie makes a face.

“This feels illegal.”

“Let’s take a photo,” Y/N drags Jessie over to the nearest photographer. She’s more than happy to get one of the two of them in each other’s jerseys and promises to send it to both of them.

***

After the game, a lot of the teams plan to meet up since a lot of them are friends and teammates on their club teams. Jessie isn’t 21 yet, and she really doesn’t know anyone on the US team very well, so she stays behind. She should probably do some homework anyway.

Jessie’s finished showering and doing her post game routine and about to pull out her textbooks, when there’s a knock at the door.

“Hey,” Y/N says when Jessie opens the door, “Everyone’s out drinking, except us it seems. Wanna hang?”

Y/N doesn’t wait for an answer before she pushes into the room and flops on the closest bed.

“That’s Janine’s bed,” Jessie says as she closes the door. Y/N groans and moves to the other bed.

“It’s so lame being under 21,” Y/N says, “Everyone ditches us to go to bars and stuff.”

“I don’t like bars anyway,” Jessie says, “I’d rather stay in.”

“I don’t mind staying in, I guess, I like hanging out with you, I’ll skip the bar if you’re here.”

Jessie doesn’t answer, looking away before Y/N can see how her cheeks grow red.

“Did you see this?” Y/N turns her phone to Jessie, “People are going crazy over the picture of us from the game. They’re trying to prove it’s a PR stunt since we tooootally hate each other.”

“All that rivalry stuff is pretty stupid. There was never anything to it.”

“You know everyone wants to create drama when there isn’t any.”

“I never…” Jessie turns to look at the wall, talking quietly, “I never had any problem with you, even before we became friends. I hated the rivalry crap. I always thought… I thought you were cool and I wanted to talk to you, but I thought you might’ve really hated me.”

“I didn’t hate you,” Y/N says, “Jess.” Jessie hears Y/N shifting on the bed and Y/N gently grabs Jessie’s shoulder and turns Jessie to face her. “I didn’t hate you, I thought you were cool too. You’re such a good player and everyone liked you so much. I didn’t know what to say to you.”

“I don’t think I’m that cool,” Jessie mutters.

“You’re way cool!” Y/N says, “You’re one of the best midfielders in the world and you’re still in college! And your photography stuff is really good, and everyone likes you, and, I think you’re really awesome Jess.”

Jessie feels like she might cry, and she doesn’t want to. She doesn’t want Y/N to see her cry, she doesn’t want to try to explain why a few nice words from Y/N are making her cry. She panics, because she can feel the tears coming and she doesn’t know how to stop it. Y/N is looking at her intently, and Jessie stops thinking. Before she knows it, her lips are on Y/N’s. She pulls back almost as quickly as she leaned in.

“I’m so sorry,” Jessie says. She feels like she might cry even more now.

“Oh,” Y/N breathes, “Oh. I didn’t realize…”

“I’m so sorry. I get it if you don’t want hang out with me anymore. I’m so sorry.”

Jessie keeps apologizing, not able to do anything else. She’s expecting Y/N to slap her, or to just walk out of the room and never talk to her again. She wonders how easy it is to transfer schools, she doesn’t want to leave UCLA, but she doesn’t know if she can face Y/N again. Lost in her thoughts, she freezes when Y/N kisses her again.

“Sorry,” Y/N says, “But I didn’t know how else to get to you to stop apologizing. I’m not mad, I like you too. I didn’t think you liked me back, so I didn’t say anything. I like you, Jess.”

“Really?” Jessie asks, “You… you like me?” Y/N nods. “I-I like you too,” Jessie says shyly.

Jessie covers her face and falls back on the bed. Y/N laughs and follows her. When Jessie uncovers her face, Y/N is facing her, looking at her with a soft smile on her face. Jessie takes a deep breath and works up her nerve. She reaches a hand out and slides her hand over Y/N’s. Y/N grins and laces their fingers together. Hours later, they fall asleep like that, hands clasped between them, and Jessie wakes up to the sound of a camera shutter.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” Janine whispers, “I felt like we needed photo evidence of this moment.”

“Please don’t post that anywhere,” Jessie says, and she rolls over and falls back asleep.

[i2ycat]

two wrongs don’t make one right

pairing lee heeseung x fem!reader synopsis mistakes always happen, whether you mean to make them or not. but it’s not a question of ‘do you like heeseung?’ anymore, it’s more so: ‘why do you like heeseung?’. or in which, two wrongs just don’t make one right genre college!au, slight fluff, angst, established relationship word count 3k+ warnings cursing, crying, toxic relationship between heeseung and reader, implications of a professor x student relationship, heeseung is implied to have possibly cheated, reader cheats w sunghoon, everyone is of age, bitchy & manipulative characters, reader is insecure, small mention of smoking weed, lmk if i missed anything else lyn speaking it’s been 2 months since i last posted anything oh my…. erm! here’s a little fic before i disappear again lol <//3 i don’t condone anything that happens in this fic or any of their decisions!!!! main masterlist

reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!

The weekend had rolled by faster than you could blink. One second, you’re rotting away in your room and the next, you’re hopping on one foot in front of your mirror, hastily getting ready for the day because you’re running 30 minutes late to your 10am coding class. You’re usually the type to wake up earlier than your alarm, but you were staying up way later than you usually would’ve the night before— staying up late to talk to your boyfriend of 7 months, Lee Heeseung.

Known to be the academy’s most influential guy, Lee Heeseung was, and still is, quite the character. Simply calling him influential would be a grave understatement though, because he descended from a family of powerful politicians and businessmen, even having the biggest corporation in all of South Korea— Lee Tech— as part of his familial pedigree.

It’s no secret that he has the entire world at his fingertips, and at any given moment, he could burn it if he wanted to.

But like how everything else in this world is unfair, Lee Heeseung wasn’t just disgustingly rich, he also inherited his mother’s celebrity looks— evident in his sharp features and overly charming personality. He has girls constantly eyeing him left and right, up and down, even when you’re around.

You went into this relationship knowing full well the certain costs it had to your own happiness and well-being. In the 7 months you’ve been seeing each other, you’ve never felt so insecure in your entire life. And despite his constant reassurances, you know that he couldn’t even begin to imagine half of the battlefield you were facing.

No matter how much you try to deny it, you were subconsciously fighting for his attention against people who were born to be at the same status as he is— in terms of wealth, power, and looks. You always hated being born into a grassroots-level family, but you knew that being salty about your birth-given circumstances would change absolutely nothing. So you worked hard as fuck to be able to get into such a prestigious university. You threw the entirety of your youth away to be able to be the first in your family to go to college, and here you are, barely hanging onto your scholarship because of some boy you met at a party almost half a year earlier. 

They’re only admirers, he said. It was just you and him, he said. You just needed to trust him, he said, but that’s something easier said than done, especially for you.

“Running late again?” The security guard monotonously inquires. He’s seen this exact scene about a thousand times and more with other students before you, so he’s chopping the late slip and handing it back to you like clockwork, but this time with a small smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. It was as if he had a good day but not good enough to warrant the toiling of doing such a challenging task.

Not that it mattered to you anyways.

You ducked your head in an informal ‘thank you’ before hurriedly leaving the stale office and into the hallways.

The hallways always seemed unending whenever you were running late, the rows of windows you ran past would multiply tenfold and the clock’s hands would run faster than it usually would— it felt as if time was warping everything within its reach.

Finally, the running reached its stop. You bent on your knees to catch your breath, the late slip crumpling in between your fingers in the process.

One.

Two.

You counted.

There was no reason to panic. Just walk in, hand the slip and sit your ass down. The visual in your head was clear and it somewhat helped to calm down your nerves. So with one last deep breath, you turn the brass handle and walk in.

You’re so damn dramatic.

The doors creaking reverberates in the small auditorium, easily catching everyone’s attention. You gulp down the lump in your throat as you watch your professor pass you a look of disapproval. It made your heart drop, because you were his best student and you hate disappointing people who expect great things from you. Your let your gaze angle towards the carpeted floors, making your way to the seat closest to the door.

When you feel as if you’ve disappeared into your seat, it was as if you could breathe again. You were finally away from the spotlight and people’s unnervingly curious eyes ceased trailing your every move. You should really start sleeping earlier or you’d have to get used to this.

“Hey,” Erin, your seatmate, whispers. Her voice tried to be as discreet as it could in a whisper… it didn’t really work. The professor gave her a stern stare as a form of warning, though you could tell it had an entirely different undertone, even from a mile away. It left a bad taste in your mouth, having to bear witness to such unprofessional exchanges of looks in an academic setting of all places. Erin, who bites her lip, scribbles whatever she was going to say to you on a torn piece of paper.

“Wanna know a secret?” It read with two boxes just right underneath it: yes or no. You look at her with a dumbfounded look plastered all over your face. You knew she was childish to a certain extent, but was she really that childish? Nevertheless, you tick the box on the left and send it back to her.

Cause you know, curiosity killed the cat.

You should’ve seen the conniving smirk plastered on her lips but you were too focused on your thoughts to notice anything else around you. She scribbles once more then folds it, dropping it into your hands with the hastily written warning facing you: “read it when you get home. preferably alone lol ;)”.

Then, class is dismissed.

You watch her get up from her seat and blend in with everybody else rushing out of the room, not missing the heavy glance she passes at the professor. You didn’t even want to stay any longer to see what happened next, so you started haphazardly shoving things into your bag instead, remembering to pocket the small note into the depths of your jacket.

When you leave the room, Lee Heeseung is already standing there, in all his lazy-fitted glory— messy bed hair hiding under a hood, donning the black hoodie you both bought as a couple’s set for valentines last week and the black sweatpants you bought for him to match.

“Hello, beautiful.” He coos, engulfing you in a tight one-armed hug. It gave you the opportunity to take in his woody yet elegant-smelling perfume, the same Jo Malone one he wore everyday.

Your heart swelled in its place, appreciating how, without fail, Heeseung would wait for you outside your classes whenever he could, even if they ended really late— late enough that he should be at home resting, but instead, he would spend that time waiting for you like the good boyfriend he is.

“Hey,” you smile into his chest. “Ugh, I woke up late again today thanks to a certain someone.”

“Wonder who that is? Maybe I should give them a word or two about keeping my princess up so late.” He pulls you from his chest to cup your face, coaxing you to fall deeper with that sweet smile of his. It never fails to make you feel like you’re the only girl in his world, like he’s got your back no matter what.

It was dangerous for such a smile to have the ability to make you forget about all your problems, even ones pertaining to him.

“You’re such a dork,” you roll your eyes at him as you push him away.

“At least I’m your dork, so naturally… it cancels out.” A boyish grin spreads across his face so innocently that you can’t help but press a kiss on his nose, immediately prompting him to blush a crimson red at your sudden display of affection. “What was that for?”

“You looked cute,” you shrug.

At this, Heeseung turns an impossibly darker shade of red. “You can’t just say things like that so casually and expect me to be okay.” The way he attempts to cover the blush in his face behind his hands makes you laugh, completely and utterly endeared by him.

“I’m sorry. Next time, I’ll give you a heads up, yeah?”

“You’re so mean.” He pouts.

When you got yourself entangled with the Lee Heeseung all those months ago, you didn’t think that he would have such a boyish and cute side to him. His public persona had always been this untouchable, charismatic guy who could get anything he wanted with a snap of his finger, so you could imagine the whiplash you experienced when the first time you ever kissed him, he blushed so deeply you thought he was drunk.

It made you feel special, being the only one to have ever brought out this side of him, like you had him wrapped around your finger.

“Yeah, but you can’t ever bring yourself to hate me.”

“That… is very true, I’m afraid.” Heeseung sighs, catching your hand in his. “I’m kinda hungry, right now. Sushi?”

“Sure.”

—

Over the course of your entire life, there’ve only been a handful of times where you’ve been betrayed by people you trusted: first when you were twelve, being wrongly accused of having cheated on a test by your then best friend; second when you were the only one to have been thrown under the bus by people you thought were your close group of friends for smoking weed in your highschool’s bathroom cubicle; and third when you found out that Heeseung had been with Erin during the one-week break in your relationship.

The note passed to you by Erin from earlier in the month stays ripped into pieces in the palm of your hand. You’d forgotten all about it until a few hours ago, and you wished it had stayed that way. But you know by now that things never go your way.

You and Heeseung were on break for about a week, citing that you were not in the mental headspace to be dealing with a relationship at that moment in time because of your slipping grades, and he understandably obliged, even kissing your forehead goodbye as you left his apartment.

Erin’s written confession, if you could even call it that, echoes in your mind like a blaring alarm.

from girlie to girlie, your boyfriend came onto me while you guys were on your little break. must say, your boyfriend is talented at making people cry ;).

All you needed was a week to heal and sort your shit out before you went back into his arms, and he couldn’t even wait that long?

You felt sick to your stomach and you wanted nothing more than to scream your aching heart away, to be left with nothing more than a void. At least then, you would no longer feel the hurt and betrayal Heeseung inflicted upon you with his actions, and the months of torment you’d endured just to seem worthy to stay by his side.

Did he even ever truly love you like he said he did?

The more you dwell on these thoughts, the more you could feel yourself physically slipping into a state of mental numbness as you stayed motionless on your spot on the carpeted floor.

It wouldn’t be until a few more hours later that Heeseung would enter your dorm, tired as ever from his basketball practice. It was routine for him to crash at your dorm on Tuesdays and Fridays—whenever he had basketball practices— because it was more convenient for him to get to his 9am class the next day from your in-campus dorm, compared to his condo that was 20 minutes away. Adding that you gave him the energy he needed for the days ahead, but now you’re contemplating whether that part was even true or not.

“Sweetheart,” he calls out to you from the entrance. “I’ve got to tell you about what happened to Jay at practice today-” he cuts himself short as he spots your leaning figure, head tucked into your knees, surrounded by torn pieces of paper.

“Y/n?” He quickly runs to your side.

“Seungie,” you meekly whisper as you lift your head, tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes finally coming into clear view.

“Did something happen? What happened?” His hands make quick work to caress your face, tucking stray pieces of hair behind your ears and wiping tears away with his thumb.

Even after knowing what he had allegedly done behind your back, you couldn’t help but feel your heart pounding. This was the sweet, caring Heeseung you knew and loved. And so the thought that Erin could’ve been lying to you, flitters across your mind and nestles itself there.

“You wouldn’t lie to me, right?” Your voice sounds hoarse and quiet, yet the silent pleading rings deafeningly in your ears. You felt so pathetic crying in your living room about a boy who might’ve technically cheated on you, then finding yourself putty in his hands the moment he shows you the version of truth you’re familiar with.

Why are making up excuses for his behaviour?

Gosh, your roommate would kill you if she knew how much of a loser you’ve become in Heeseung’s presence.

“Of course not, baby,” he pulls you into an embrace. “There’s nothing I could ever lie to you about.” Did this ease your trust issues in any way? No. But it did assure you that Erin was still nothing but a serial liar, wanting nothing more than to see other people’s relationships fall apart for her own selfish entertainment… you think.

You hum into Heeseung’s tweed pullover.

It was always like this. You don’t know how many times you’ve gone through the same thing, and you don’t know how many more times you can go through without fully losing your sanity. But you can’t seem to find it in yourself to pull away, no matter how exhausted your heart and soul becomes.

—

“Can’t believe you stayed with him, even after knowing what he did behind your back.” Erin sneers from beside you, clearly amused by your course of actions these past few weeks.

“Whatever I do is none of your business,” you bite back through your teeth. You’ve never liked Erin, but even more so after the stunt she did that almost cost you your entire relationship with Heeseung. You should’ve known that she never had good intentions to begin with, constantly lying through her teeth. “I know you lied about it.”

She raises an eyebrow at this, “You think I’m lying? Oh baby, you’re really so fucking gullible.” Erin could practically see the cogs turning in your brain, if the furrowing of your brows were anything to go by. “I’m saying that Heeseung has you completely under his thumb, and you’re dumb enough to believe anything and everything he says,” she plays with her pen, swirling it around her finger as she eyes you. “It’s whatever though, Heeseung likes good girls anyways.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, I think we both know very well.” She smirks, tapping the pen on her temple once then twice, before shifting in her seat back towards the front of the lecture hall.

Just what was her fucking deal?

It leaves you with more questions than answers, as you watch her diligently jot down notes from beside you. After today, you were for sure going to switch seats because there was just no fucking way you could survive the rest of the year this way.

—

You don’t know how you ended up here. The first minute you were being dumped by Heeseung, and the next you’re waking up with a raging hangover in his best friend's bed.

Heeseung technically didn’t dump you, telling you that he wanted a break the same you did all those months before. And you technically didn't end up in his best friend’s bed by complete choice. You were drunk out of your mind at a party last night, one that your roommate had dragged you to after seeing you in your depressed state for the past week. But no matter the excuse you try to conjure, it still doesn’t excuse the fact that you cheated on your boyfriend.

Your heart beats sporadically at the sight of Sunghoon’s bare back facing you, not because you’re flustered but because you’re instantly hit with the gravity of your own drunken choices.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

With heavy feet, you stumble out of his bed and start navigating through the mess of discarded clothes, and soon after, Sunghoon eventually stirs awake from the ruckus you were unintentionally causing in his shared dorm room. “Y/n?” He groggily calls out to you.

Fuck.

It didn’t take Sunghoon very long to figure out why the fuck you were in his room half-naked, piecing together the clues that lay around the expanse of his dorm. He clearly didn’t need to be a genius like Einstein to figure out that you and him had a drunken one-night stand. You—Heeseung’s girlfriend—and him—Heeseung’s best friend—had spent the night together. Intimately.

Right around the three-second mark, the same level of anxiety sank into his stomach. 

Fuck, indeed.

“I made a mistake.” Your voice trembled, tears starting to blur your vision as hot panic courses through you.

“Hey, we were both drunk,” Sunghoon says, sitting up at the sight of you still half-dressed and starting to break down at the foot of his bed. “Heeseung doesn’t have to know about this. We both made a mistake, and don’t blame yourself because you weren’t the only one, okay?”

“But, fuck, it doesn’t change the fact that I cheated on my boyfriend. What the fuck was I thinking?” Your fingers fly to tousle with your hair, pulling at the roots to try and ease the pounding in your head.

You weren’t any better than all the people you were disgusted by, seeing as you’ve stopped as low. Memories from last night flash through your mind, as if to haunt you; the party, the flashing lights, the drinks, the kissing, the skin against skin. You felt so fucking sick to your stomach.

“We didn’t mean to sleep with each other. We were just drunk.” Sunghoon reasons, but no amount of gaslighting could change what’s already been done.

You were either going to live with this aching thorn by your side forever, or own up to your mistakes like a normal human being with a moral compass. With how deep you’ve fallen for Heeseung, you couldn’t bear losing him, yet both options entailed losing him one way or another.

It’s best not knowing what could potentially hurt, right?

Right.

© i2ycat 2024

[ninyard]

The monsters and their ability to pick up languages is so interesting to me so here’s some random HCs about monsters + languages that are definitely not original at all:

- Neil learned French in Europe before him and Mary found their way to French-speaking Canada. He essentially had to semi-adopt the language discrepancies while he was there, and even though his fluency is in French from France, sometimes he messes up and pronounces things weirdly or differently (and Kevin frequently makes fun of him for it)

- Kevin has some rusty Japanese that he was forced to learn growing up. He can understand it pretty well, and can somewhat speak it to a lower level, but he can’t read or write it. He’s not fluent, and probably couldn’t hold a conversation with a native speaker, but he could understand his Japanese counterparts in the Nest when he needed to.

- In turn Kevin isn’t able to order in Japanese at a restaurant, but he could explain the rules of Exy to someone fairly coherently if he had to.

- This isn’t an original thought by any means but Neil and Kevin definitely speak in French when they’re by themselves just to make sure they don’t lose it.

- They sometimes make calls to each other on the court in French, and because of this, most of the team picks up very basic calls in French. None of them can actually speak it, but Andrew picks up a little more than the rest, having spent so much time with Kevin. Again, couldn’t hold a conversation, but every now and again he recognises certain words in their conversations.

- Neil is like a walking version of those White Guy Speaks Chinese And Stuns Waitress (he can understand her?!?) polyglot youTube videos. It becomes more of a hobby for him once he’s settled and the FBI are off his back, but the foxes are constantly shocked by how many languages he can speak. He is fluent in English, French, and German of course, with some conversational Spanish, but he can pretty much have a basic interaction in most of the languages of countries he’d been in. His Dutch is the worst, because he could never quite grasp the proper pronunciation of things, but one time he speaks to a waiter in Italian and Andrew can’t believe it.

- (RIP Neil Josten, you would’ve loved duolingo)

- When he goes to the Olympics he’s like a kid in a candy store. It’s like a subconscious bingo game for him to speak to someone from every country at least once.

- Aaron loves listening to music in German. He would definitely drag Nicky to a rave if they ever found themselves in Berlin.

- Katelyn asks him whenever they have their kid if he wants to raise them bilingual, but he decides not to because he only really learned German for Nicky and his brother, and doesn’t really speak it at all after he graduates.

- Neil and Nicky study Spanish together sometimes. It helps Nicky stay close to his roots now that his immediate family is pretty much out of the picture. It means way more to him than Neil even knows.

- Another unoriginal one but Andrew and Neil definitely do learn sign language in the future. I could talk about this one forever.

- When Kevin gets frustrated, he finds it hard to speak ANY language. He messes up words in English, forgets how to say things, and occasionally is the butt of the joke when he combines a French and English word accidentally.

- Kevin watches anime when nobody is around. He thinks dubbed anime is a crime.

- Andrew thinks he’s pretty good at German until he tries to have a conversation with Erik and realises wow native speakers talk a lot faster than we do. You wouldn’t know, because even if he just understands half of a sentence, he can usually piece together what is being said 90% of the time, and he would never admit out loud that he needs Erik to slow down when he’s talking so he can understand him.

- He is, however, REALLY good at accents. He has a talent for speaking gibberish but sounding as if he’s speaking fluent French. It drives Kevin up the wall when he does it, but he also hates when he can’t understand what Kevin and Neil are saying to each other.

And Bonus:

- Jeremy is really bad at accents. He is initially frustrated by Jean and his French, but once he understands that it is Jean’s first language (that the Moriyama’s took from him), he makes an effort to try and learn. He’s just really, really bad at it. Jean cringes every time he tries, because he speaks with a heavy American accent. Jean is not pretentious about his language, but he is, at the end of the day, French. So when Jeremy says bonjour in that hideous so-Cal accent, it’s in part endearing that he’s trying, but mostly like nails on a chalkboard.

[ugotcooneycrossed]

girlfriend or girl thats a friend? • kyra cooney-cross

w/c: ~1k

you and kyra are something- you just dont exactly know what yet. thankfully nobody knows how to mind their own business

------------------------------------------------------------

It feels a bit unreal right now- you’re at you’re first world cup, basecamp is just as cool as you imagined and you take a second, to take it all in.

In reality it’s not that impressive- it’s just a hotel after all, but you’ve never been more nervous, or, excited about anything.

Well- except for the Olympics.

You remember Kyra waking you up at midnight- convincing you to sneak out with her to explore Yokohama before training.

You walked hand-in-hand for hours in the city- eventually sitting on some random bench watching the city lights together.

You both fell asleep in training the next day.

You feel a shoulder bump yours- and your taken out of your daydream, Kyra smiling softly at you.

“You okay?”

She asks you- almost whispering, as if it’s just a little secret between you two, and you smile back at her.

“Yeah- of course.”

She nods her head in approval, and holds out her hand to you- palm up, silently asking for you hand.

You lace your fingers together- and let her tug you to the elevator.

“Roomies?”

“Of course- wouldn’t dream of anyone else.”

-

“Hey- (y/n), you awake?”

It’s dark in the room- and definitely way past your bedtime.

You can hear Kyra’s sheets rustling though- and can blearily make out her turning to face you in the dark.

You reach over to flick on the bedside light- and she flinches at the sudden brightness.

“Yeah- you alright?”

She’s quiet for a while- just staring down and playing with her hands, and you frown at that. You go to speak, but Kyra gets out of bed suddenly and slips into yours- pulling you close to her and resting her head on your chest.

“I missed you.”

You want to joke with her that you’ve been together for weeks now to prepare for the world cup. But, you know what she means- something has changed between you two, and you’ve both been avoiding it.

“I missed you too.”

You wrap your arms around her and hold her close to you, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of her head.

“You should sleep though- trainings tomorrow, and I don’t want you to fall sleep in training again.”

“Hey! You fell asleep too- so, why don’t we both go to sleep now.”

“Kyra- babe, you woke me up.”

“Babe huh?”

“Shut it.”

You fall asleep like that- together, in each other’s arms.

-

You wake up well before Kyra does- and you watch her as she continues to sleep, she’s resting practically on top of you, her arms wrapped around you tightly and her head on you chest.

Her head rises and falls rhythmically with your breathing- and you lean down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead.

It’s not an uncommon sight to see you both together- in fact most of the girl’s seem to think you’re attached at the hip. You’re always touching in some way- whether it be arms linked walking to the pitch, or knees touching as you sit side-by-side, you’re always together on days off- constantly featured in each-others instgrams, and are always mixing up clothes- you coming to training in shorts with 23 on it, or Kyra rummaging through your suitcase to steal one of your hoodies. Which, no one would’ve noticed if it weren’t for Charli calling Kyra out.

You hear hushed voices outside your door- and a group of girls come crashing in seconds later. You shut your eyes quickly and sink further down into bed, pretending to be asleep- Kyra still on top of you.

“Awee look at them- they’re sleeping.”

“Let’s wake them up.”

“Mary!”

“What! They’re gonna miss breakfast.”

“But aren’t they so cute though?”

“Yeah, yeah- so, like- are they dating? Or what? Cause I’ve got a bet going on with Ellie.”

“I don’t know actually- I think they are.”

“Really? I thought you would know.”

“Well­- last time I talked to Kyra she told me she-“

Charli’s voice gets cut off and you want to scream.

“What are you all doing in here?”

Mini walks into the room and takes one look around- hitting Charli in the arm.

“Out! Both of you.”

You wait until you hear the door close to wake Kyra up, brushing her hair back and rubbing her cheeks softly.

You feel her cheeks pull up into a smile and you squeeze her face in your hands softly, admiring the way her face scratches up- already forgetting about what Charli was going to say

“Come on sleepy- we’re going to be late again.”

-

You’re resting your head on Kyra’s stomach- both of you laying off on your own during a small break in training.

You have your eyes closed- soaking in the sun that finally decided to show itself. You don’t notice Kyra staring at you smiling though.

You feel Kyra shift slightly and you crack an eye open to look at her.

“You okay?”

“Perfect.”

-

You go out for dinner that night- and when Kyra’s burger gets to the table she plucks off the pickles and drops them into your waiting hand.

“Thanks.”

She smiles at you.

“Of course.”

You smile back at her- knocking your knees together under the table and grinning at her.

Mary waves her hand to get both of your attention.

“So- are you guys like dating?”

“What?”

You both reply in unison- moving away from each other slightly.

“What makes you say that?"

You asks- face heating up, you glance over at Kyra but she’s looking anywhere but you.

“Okayy- never mind, forget I said anything.”

-

You haven’t spoken to Kyra since dinner- and it’s killing you.

You’re getting ready for bed in silence- occasionally glancing at each other when the other isn’t.

When you finally get under the covers, you see Kyra hover in-between both beds, and you sigh, opening your blanket up for her, and she climbs in next to you without a word. Her head coming to rest on your chest once again.

But you can’t wait anymore- asking her quietly, nearing a whisper, afraid someone will hear even if you’re alone in the hotel room.

“Kyra- what are we?”

Still- she stays quiet.

You sigh- trying to move your arm from around her, but her hand grips your bicep and you stop.

“We’re just us- I don’t know, I just- I like us.”

“I do too.”

-

You’re both late to breakfast again- and it gives Mary enough time to hatch a plan with the girls to get you together.

“Lock ‘em in a closet.”

“Sam no!”

[pagannatural]

1.13

-Route 666

-Sam’s hackles are up the minute Dean says they’re dropping everything to help a woman he knows. Sam is alternately irritated and amused by Dean’s trysts but he draws the line at someone else actually being important to Dean.

Sam acts exactly like a jealous wife. He says “so by old friend you mean…?” And then he crosses his arms and accuses “you never mentioned her” and “you mean you dated someone. For more than one night.”

-Sam is even angrier to find out Dean told Cassie he’s a hunter.

He looks like a scorned wife. He never told Jess, who he wanted to marry, the truth about his life shared with Dean. In the pilot, before she died, Dean challenged Sam by asking, Does she know the truth about you? She didn’t, she couldn’t know this part of Sam that Dean knows. Now Sam finds out that there is someone else in Dean’s life who knows their secrets. He’s threatened.

-Cassie is ridiculously beautiful and likable. Sam is too sweet to hold anything against her.

-Sam is paying very close attention to Cassie and Dean. He’s studying them, which means it’s really important to him to figure out what’s going on between them. He observes to Dean that she’s fearless and wouldn’t take his shit. He notices that they don’t look at each other at the same time, that they have unfinished business.

-Sam and Cassie are a lot alike. She’s educated, she stands up for herself and speaks her mind, and she’s the type to call Dean out. Dean specifically told Sam he admired the fact that Sam stands up for himself and goes after what he wants, and we know Sam challenges Dean all the time. Reporters also tend to do quite a bit of research, which is Sam’s thing. She was even in college at the same time Sam was, when she and Dean dated.

Dean met her and had the most serious relationship of his life during that first year Sam was away at college. John wrote in his journal something about Dean talking to a woman who is a reporter about Sam on Sam’s 20th birthday as they leave Athens, Ohio. Dean probably sought comfort from Cassie about missing Sam and definitely told her about him. Dean tried to fill the Sam-shaped hole in his life with Cassie.

-Dean can either have Sam or he can have a girlfriend (or he can have neither) but he can’t have both.

-Sam won’t let this go. He’s kind of teasing Dean about it but then he gets serious when he says “you loved her.” His vibe changes again when he guesses that she was the one who dumped him. He looks hurt. He probably thought he was the only one who had ever dumped Dean.

It makes him so insecure.

-Did Sam just think that Dean would never fall in love or get into a relationship? Is this the first time he’s considering that possibility?

-Sam reflects that when he was at college his life was so simple. Something about this particular case makes Sam miss when his life was less complicated, and the only thing different about this case is that Dean has feelings for someone. It would fit with Sam running away from his feelings for Dean.

-Sam coughs loudly when Dean and Cassie kiss and tells Dean to admit he’s still in love with her. Dean doesn’t. Imagine Sam’s face if he had.

-Sam watches Cassie and Dean kiss goodbye and then looks away with this expression on his face

-He asks Dean if a girl like Cassie ever makes Dean question if what they’re doing (hunting) is worth it. He also says he likes her, like he’s giving his approval. He’s doing the same thing Dean did in Hook Man, seeing if his brother wants to stay behind for a love interest.

They’re testing each other. They’re pushing to see who will leave first. Sam’s abandonment issues come from not feeling chosen and feeling left out, left on his own constantly while Dean and their dad hunted, the odd one out. It’s part of why he left in the first place. He thinks Dean needs his help, but he doubts that Dean would truly choose him when it came down to it. Before this he thought that Dean was choosing hunting over him, but now the possibility arises that he could choose another person. He thinks now that this is what Dean truly wants.

-Dean doesn’t answer Sam’s question outright. He just looks at Sam with so much love and tenderness and tells him to wake him up when it’s his turn to drive. There was never any contest.

[potatogratins]

— where the stars shine brightest

꒰ summary ꒱ after a day with friends, yuki ishikawa comes home to you cooking dinner. He's not open to the idea of you taking in the excess of the food he has to eat and believes you're forced to do all that—or so he thinks.

꒰ genre ꒱ fluff ꒰ pairing ꒱ | ishikawa yuki/gender-neutral reader ꒰ w.c. ꒱ 1,354 ꒰ published ꒱ august 18, 2024

꒰ a/n ꒱ wrote a very quick yuki one shot :) in reality, i think i would be extremely weirded out by his meal choices LOL but I love that little (he's literally tall!!) idiot...

“Tadaima,” a voice speaks by the door.

In the volume of his voice, you know that the day was well-spent with friends. Its tone, a pitch higher than it usually is, comes as a sign of cheerfulness. In these mere three syllables, you know that even if the day was partially cherished, there is an implication of excitement; the day for him can only be fully cherished when he has loved and adored you in the flesh.

“My sweet,” you greet Yuki, as he walks behind you and kisses the top of your head.

“Oh, please don’t smell my head—it’s full of sweat and pollution,” you tell him, but he kisses your head again nonetheless. He stands beside you, as he observes you cooking.

“What’s that?” he asks with such naivety.

To which you reply, “Your usual meal, your majesty.”

“You don’t have to cook for me, you know. I’ve been doing it on my own for more than ten years,” he says as he tries to hide his frown. You may be slow in other things, but when it comes to Yuki, you’re quick enough to figure him out.

“Let’s not talk about this. The moon is shining half as bright, and even if the clouds are hiding the stars, I know they’re shining twice as bright. It’s a beautiful night, so let’s cherish it,” you tell him. He playfully nods and puts his hands up in defeat against your poetic, dramatic little ass, and you place each food onto a plate before Yuki brings it to the table.

When the both of you finally get to sit down, he takes in the food he has always taken in in the same way. But when he sees you, eating what he would call scraps—the excess of his meal, mixed with extra condiments and leftovers–he is left sighing at every instance you put a piece of your meal into your mouth.

He has to do something about it… and so he says, “I still don’t feel comfortable about this.”

“About what?”

“The food.”

You look down at your food, and then at him again. To you, there’s nothing wrong with what you’re eating. You begin to understand that tonight is a night that will be filled with sighs—well, not the kind both of you are hoping for.

“Yuki, again. At the very beginning, I said I wanted to be in charge of the meals. You had no objections. You said I could make any meal that I wanted—your words, not mine,” you tell him calmly and slowly, “I have spent a majority of my life making decisions for myself without the help of anyone else. If I loved you any less, I would have walked right out that door.”

He simply nods to your words. He’s taking the information in, just as much as the both of you are eating. When both of you finish eating, you begin to take the plates and utensils–as well as the pans, pots, cutting boards, and whatnot–to the sink to get them washed. Yuki stays still in his seat, watching your every move.

“I didn’t know you love me that much,” Yuki confesses.

You laugh, “Silly. You think too much. I’m wildly devoted to you that I’d clean your rice paddles—and all of these I do because it’s my choice, I hope you understand that.”

“I’m beginning to.”

He approaches you from behind, his fingers constantly moving, never in the same place it once was. He then wraps his arms around you and places his face on your head.

“I thought I told you—”

“I don’t care,” he interrupts.

“My head—”

“Blah blah blah—”

“It stinks—”

“Blah blah—”

“It smells—”

“Like love and hard work.”

For a moment, you place one of the white plates down and turn your head to him—bewildered, amazed, astonished. Your eyes widen and eyebrows raise.

“I didn’t know you love me that much,” you then confess. Oh, how the tables have turned. He looks at you and smiles. When you turn back to washing everything that was left on the sink, he plays with your hair, which looks and smells of love and hard work.

After washing the dishes, you and Yuki form a separate routine. As you shower, he begins brushing up his Italian and does his stretches. An everything shower, as you call it, gives him an opportunity to take as much time as he can to catch up with whatever he has not done for the day.

When you finish your shower and step out the bathroom door, you see Yuki by the living room, going through his phone just to pass the time. He looks up and sees you, pajamas crinkled and hair dried. He smiles and pats your tiny, tiny head and showers next.

You sit on the left side of the bed, turning on the lampshade. In silence, you grab your copy of Ogden Nash’s I Wouldn’t Have Missed It and the pen that sits in between the pages. You begin to go through the poem To My Valentine, annotating a word or a phrase or a line or a stanza. There are intervals in the scratching of the tip of the blue ballpen against the surface of the page. You revel in this kind of silence, where you sit and do what you love while the love of your life is just a few meters away from you. It’s comfortable. It’s a reminder that love persists in every space you both occupy. It’s a routine you will never get tired of.

By the time Yuki finishes his shower, he checks on you by peeking through the bedroom door. You are asleep with a book in one hand and a pen in the other—which he is grateful that you haven’t accidentally written on the bed sheets at some point—snoring the night away. It's surprising for him to find you already asleep, for on the most normal of days, if he finished showering, you would have surely greeted him outside the bathroom door, asking him to get to bed in an instant. He tiptoes to your side and takes away the book and the pen, lightly placing them on the bedside table and turns off the lampshade. He then goes to his side of the bed and lies down.

Not wanting you to sleep in a terrible posture, he nudges you a little. There’s a soft sigh that comes out of your mouth before you see his shadow, as you're half-awake.

“Whatisit?” you ask.

“You fell asleep reading again.”

You fix your posture, fully lying down.

“Youshouldn’thavewokenmeuppp,” you scold him.

“Why?”

“Ialways…needto…getaheadstartbeforeyoustartsnoring.”

He laughs. He combs your soft hair and says, “I’ll stay awake till you get to sleep.”

For the next few minutes, he places his hand on you and feels your chest rise and fall less and less and your breathing turn quiet. Then, there’s a little snore that comes out of you. He smiles. He has no right to complain about you snoring, it’s not as loud as his snores anyway.

He brushes your hair and kisses your temple. Then again. Then again. He lies on his side of the bed, allowing the darkness to seep through his eyes. In his head, he begins his plans to spend a day with you tomorrow. Or maybe two days. Or three. Though your love for each other is infinite, life is not; Yuki will hold you dear for as much as he can, for as long as he can. He'll do anything to express his gratitude besides what has already been expressed in the days since you have been together.

Then at long last, you are both asleep.

By then, the night had fallen halfway. The clouds have finally cleared, where the stars begin to show their shine. Just know that whatever nature throws, the stars are still bound to you and Yuki—at the height of adoration and tenderness between the both of you, there is love in a sky where the stars shine brightest. 

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

"After the condom under the coffee table incident, you’re surprised Noah even speaks to you at all." GIRL WHAT?! HAHAHAHAHHAHAHA I need to know what happened here.

oh girl, this was a fun little something i mentioned when brain dumping with @youunravelme and had to include it in a fic! i’ll pop the details in a headcanon post bc it’s not really enough for a full fic 😂

so mat and squeaks are like horny freaks in love

they’re genuinely so annoying because they constantly have to be touching each other

i feel like it’s been established that they have sex whenever and wherever

and as noted in the fic, their couch gets a lot of action lmao

so sometimes they just get too in the moment and have no idea what’s going on

they “forget” condoms more often than they actually remember or legitimately forget them

and the Incident happened when they were throwing a party or a get together (some event where the whole team was invited)

maybe a super bowl party or whatever

but with everything all set up and ready to go mat and squeaks start to get touchy and end up rolling around on the couch, both pants less

the condom comes out, is ripped open and crumpled in squeaks’s hand because mat pushes into her, “just the tip, baby”, before she get roll it on him

they get lost in the moment and they’re fucking five ways from sunday on the couch, so the condom gets lost to the floor and somehow kicked under the coffee table

they manage to clean everything up before everyone arrives and no one is the wiser that mat had squeaks bent in half with her knees by her ears just fifteen minutes ago

until

poor noah

drops his phone on the floor and bends down to pick it up

he spots the condom under the coffee table and it’s all crumpled up (clean!! but he doesn’t know that!!) and looks used

he’s immediately horrified and refuses to look squeaks in the eye for the rest of the night

he mutters to mat about the condom, annoyed that he has to know anything about their sex life

mat’s like whoops our bad and never actually corrects the assumption that it’s a used condom

he tells squeaks the story later, when they’re tangled up in bed and he has to get up to get rid of the (actually used) condom

she’s mortified of course

and somehow the story gets around the locker room and mat’s like “that’s not even close to the only place we’ve done it”

and “it’s our house why shouldn’t we fuck on all the surfaces”

the wags hear about it and squeaks is like “we clean omg!!!! we don’t let you guys come over and like touch our mess!!!”

but the damage is done

and that’s why mat and squeaks never host team events or parties again

and poor noah finally can have a normal conversation with squeaks again, until of course he catches a glimpse of the nude polaroids she gives mat

mat’s like stop looking!

noah’s like she’s like a big sister to me i don’t wanna look!!!!

again, they’re madly in love and match each other’s freak, especially when it comes to having sex all over their house

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

super duper congratulations on 5k, you absolutely deserve each and every one lovely ! i’m sure you’ve got a ton already, but at the suspiciously low number of soap requests, may i ask for an enemies to lovers ? perhaps in a ‘constantly-butting-heads-to-the-point-where-everyone-around-them-is-bashing-their-skull-in-from-annoyance’ to lovers sense. and maybe a dash of forced proximity? i know he’s a literal ball of sunshine, but i will enemies to lovers-fy any character i can get my hands on and you do the trope justice every! time!! of course, only if you would like to, sending love! <3 xx

—A Song of Gnashing Teeth

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [There was never a day where the two of you weren't butting heads - everyone was at their wit's end. Of course, you would both be forced to cooperate at some point.] ❞

“Stop moving,” the command comes in from your right ear, fizzling in and out as the connection pops. The comms were spotty in the higher altitudes, and even as the sweat stuck to your skin and the bugs buzzed, it still tried its best to come through. 

Just as you were trying your best not to snap.

“I’m not moving, Captain MacTavish,” you ease out. “I’m lined up.” 

Sniping in South America was the mission for the next two months—targets lined up with terrorist connections that needed to be six feet under per Shepherd’s orders ASAP. Two teams had been sent out, but only to work together for this instance. Yours, obviously, and the second belonging to a man you’d not seen in years.

The taste was still bitter in your mouth when you were around him, though.

“Don’t lie to me, Dearie—scope’s shakin’ more than a drunk after his sixth bottle.” Your eyes glare ahead, a sneer building slowly over your lips.

“You’re one to talk?” You scoff, dense foliage swaying as you focus on the head of one of your targets. Your men listen intently over the line as the two Captains bicker—all in the town below waiting to do a snatch-and-grab of one of the individuals you would need to interrogate. “Moscow, Russia, five years ago,” you speak in clipped sentences. “Target in her penthouse. White curtains swaying in the breeze. What do you do, Soap? Oh, that’s right,” you growl, “you shoot the damn marble statue thinking it was her after two bottles of shit wine.”

There’s a click of a tongue over the line. A smirk easily heard that leaves you fuming.“I remember I happened to be a bit distracted that day, Hen. Not as much as you, though, aye?”

“Only thing I was distracted by,” you flick off your sniper rifle’s safety, undisturbed by the blatant insinuation. “Was your ability to not fucking see clearly.” 

A low grumble wafts out, cutting the line a few times. 

Your joined unit all seem to try and stop their hands from slapping their faces in annoyance—the connection heavy with tension and anticipation. Whoever decided it was smart to put the two of you together either thought it would be funny, or they hoped you could both get past your own egos for the sake of the mission. 

As if. 

“I’m taking the shot,” you sigh. “Team One—get ready to intercept the second target on my go.” 

For once, the Scot seems to agree with you, voice coming back to that serious gruff bark. “Two, keep the area locked down; no need to let the others get too excited and pop off shots. Save our arses the trouble.”

You let your finger slip down to the trigger, eye open and stance relaxed—taking into account distance and wind as you level to notch three. 

“On my go,” you say again, the comms lighting up with affirmatives. “Three…two…” Your finger squeezes just as, “Go,” is muttered into the air. 

In the scope, you watch the head of your target explode into a mess of blood in black and white, the spray flying into the air like rain only to fall once more as the body drops. 

The conjoined teams do as they’re told, moving in the middle of chaos to grab at the second mark—one needle to the neck later, and it’s a limp form that they drag into the back of an awaiting van. 

“Mission success. Pack it up and let's get goin’.” John’s voice breaks you out of your focus, letting you blink at the disappearing van before you shift your head away entirely, taking a low breath. “Shepherd’ll have new orders.”

“‘Course he will,” you grunt, moving to push up into your knees and crack your back. 

It’s only after a moderate hike back into the woods that you see him waiting, having trekked back from his perch as well, through bugs and branches. The rifle is slung over your back, just as his is loosely held in front of him. 

“John,” you mutter in greeting, slapping away a mosquito. Blue eyes glance your way, scar moving as a smirk meets your eyes. He never changed—even that mohawk is still the same. A disheveled dog down to the bone in his mouth.

“Dearie,” a firm nod is leveled. “Nice shot, then.”

“Ironic,” your head tilts, slowing as you meet him a few feet separated. A silence settles like steel to the hard floor, the long pause that draws on tension as a tight cord. 

John clears his throat, watching you as your eyes narrow, brow twitching. 

He steps once more towards you with one foot, leaning in.

“I suppose this is where I wait for you to slap me,” he tilts his head, still smirking. 

“I’m thinking about it,” you draw, blinking slowly. “Don’t tempt me, MacTavish. I don’t need disorderly conduct and assault on my record.” 

“Done worse.” You scowl.

“You’re acting like you want me to do it, damn freak.”

“I’m just saying I’d be expecting it, is all.” Smooth chuckles waft out as your hand waves in exasperation, walking forward. It’s only after you’re about to move into the trees and disappear from view that he calls once more to you. 

Your feet slow, but don’t stop.

“I really did miss you.” Eyelids moving just a tiny bit wider, your lips thinned out. Boots shuffle in the grass from behind you. “Thought you’d come back eventually, aye?” 

You stay silent, body still near the sentinels of old tree trunks. 

The parting of the two of you could have gone better—there were some things that couldn’t be fixed. You’d always be at each other’s throats, needless of missions or personal matters. 

You look over your shoulder to lock with digging blues—the structure of John’s face always seared into your mind so much so you could draw it even if years had passed.

“You never gave me a reason to stay.” 

He blinks in surprise, but you’ve already shifted away, heart pinched. 

“Good working with you, Captain,”  you say, already gone. Memories linger in the air, suffocating you. Your eyes close tightly, and you grit your teeth. “Call me if you need me.”

A shout echoes above the yells from the town far into the distance, meeting your ears. 

“I plan on it!”

You huff under your breath, but your skipping heart betrays you.

[merrybloomwrites]

I Hear Them Calling (Chapter 3)

Story Summary: Alpha Harry Styles and omega Y/N Y/L/N meet under less than ideal circumstances. Overtime their paths will cross and they will be drawn to one another in ways they never expected.

Chapter Summary: Y/N & Harry reconnect at MSG night 12

Previous Chapters: Prologue ; Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2

Word Count: 2.4k

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next three weeks pass in a similar fashion for you. Work, chores, and hanging out with your best friends fills most of your time. You try not to depend on Harry’s scent, but the days where you don’t have your reminders of his smell around you turn out to be terrible days. The nightmares come back, and you’re restless all day. Plus, you feel way colder than you should in late August, so it just makes sense for you to be constantly drinking hot chocolate.

September 10th finally rolls around, and the first thing you do when you wake up is reread the email from Jada for the hundredth time. You still can’t believe what will happen that night, but there it is clearly written out for you.

Not only will you, Amelia, Violet, and Rachel be going to Harry’s concert, you have your own VIP section and you’re invited backstage before the show starts.

The girls all come over to get ready together. You all have some pizza and play Harry’s music while helping each other with your hair and makeup. After getting dressed you take some pictures together, wanting to document this night.

You spray on extra scent blockers, slipping the bottle into your purse so you can reapply later if needed. Rachel sees you do this and checks in with you, asking, “You okay? Are you nervous to go back there?”

“I’m good,” you reply. “I’m excited actually. It’s different this time. I’m more prepared, and I have you three with me. Plus, I’m pretty sure Amelia will rip the knot off any alpha who tries to mess with us.”

“I heard that!” Amelia shouts from the next room. “And yes. I absolutely will.”

You all laugh and grab your purses before heading to the car. Violet drives you all into the city, and you’re grateful for her fearlessness. No matter how experienced you are, you’ll never drive in New York unless you absolutely have to.

Once you get there, you follow the directions from Jada’s email, walking past the line of people waiting outside and heading straight for a side door. You speak with a security guard who checks your names on a list. He nods and calls over another security guard who leads you into the building.

You look at your friends and can tell they’re as amazed and excited as you are. Sure, you had the emails telling you that all of this would happen, that you’d be hanging out backstage before watching the concert from a private box, but it’s so surreal now that it’s actually happening.

Someone calls your name from the end of the hallway, and you smile when you see Jada walking towards your group.

“So glad you girls could make it!” she says, handing you all the badges you’ll need to wear that evening.

“We’re super excited to be here,” you reply.

She leads you all to a room filled with food and drinks and a number of other VIP guests.

“They’re still working on soundcheck so please enjoy some snacks and I’ll grab you guys to say hi to Harry in a bit,” Jada says quickly before walking back out of the room.

The four of you stand shocked for a moment.

“We’re meeting Harry?” Rachel asks incredulously.

“I guess so,” you answer.

“Like, all of us?” Violet questions.

“Seems that way,” you reply.

“He probably just wants to see his little omega again,” Amelia teases, earning an eye roll from Violet and a head shake from Rachel.

You laugh along, trying to cover your true reaction to hearing that. Because they have no idea how much you want that or how right it feels to be called his omega, even if you know that will never happen.

“Come on, I could use a water,” Violet says and the four of you grab some refreshments. After a little while Jada comes back and has the four of you follow her through the halls.

“We’re gonna make a quick stop first. Harry is finishing up on something but in the meantime you guys can meet the band,” Jada explains.

Entering the band dressing room is as overwhelming as it is thrilling. In the weeks since the last show you attended, you’ve watched numerous clips from the concerts. Most of the time you were focused on Harry, but you spent plenty of time admiring the talent of his band members as well.

They’re all incredibly welcoming, taking the time to talk to all of you. After a few minutes Sarah pulls you aside.

“I just wanted to check in and see how you’ve been the last few weeks,” she says.

You almost just give her a cheerful lie, saying you’ve been totally fine. But you can tell she isn’t simply asking to be polite. She cares. She truly wants to know how you’ve been.

“I’ve been okay. Not great, but I mean, not terrible,” you finally reply.

“What’s been going on?” she continues.

“Well, I’ve been having some pretty bad nightmares. You know, bad dreams about that alpha, and what happened, and what could have happened. And I’ve just been feeling a bit off, like, shaky and cold and restless. I think it’s probably the stress from that night. But I’ve found some ways to cope and they’re working so it’s not too bad.”

Sarah gives you a calculating look. You expect her to ask more questions, press you for more details, but instead she says, “We’re here for you, you know that right? Anything you need. We care about you.”

You’re almost thrown by the genuine compassion from a practical stranger. Sure, she saved you from a dangerous situation, but that still doesn’t explain why this big-time musician cared so deeply for you, just a regular person. And then you put yourself in her shoes for a second, imagining what she went through that night. Alphas, or at least good alphas, have an innate desire to help and protect omegas. Hearing your distress, seeing you cornered and nearly unconscious could not have been easy for her. But she stayed calm the whole time, handling the situation perfectly.

Before your emotions can get the better of you, you smile and say, “Thank you, so much. For everything you did that night and for being there for me now. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course, love. Would it be alright if I gave you a hug?”

You nod and she pulls you in. There’s a faint trace of her tea and ocean scent, and you repress your omega nature telling you to take a deep breath of the alpha smell.

As you pull away, Jada walks back into the room. She collects you and your friends and leads you down the hall. You recognize where you are now and start to grow more anxious and excited knowing that you’ll see Harry again soon.

You have no idea what to expect with this reunion. Will he still seem to care about you as much as he did last time? Will his alpha remember your omega and the connection that seemed to exist between the two? Or will it become glaringly obvious that everything was in your head, and he was just being nice and taking care of a fan in trouble? You figure it will probably be that last choice, that he’ll treat you just the same as he treats Violet, Amelia, and Rachel.

Finally, you reach the room, and Jada knocks, waiting to hear Harry’s response before opening the door and ushering your group inside. Suddenly feeling very shy, you stay behind your friends, like you’re trying to disappear. Harry introduces himself to the others and then he’s standing right in front of you.

Not wanting to be rude, you lift your face to greet him. He reaches out to shake your hand, saying, “Hello, Y/N, it’s good to see you again.”

You stutter out, “Nice to see you too,” while actively focusing on keeping your omega at bay. This simple touch is both electrifying and comforting, and it leaves you wishing for more. You bite back a whine and take a deep breath to center yourself.

This backfires, because now you can pick up Harry’s scent around you. He’s definitely wearing scent blockers again, but the smell has permeated some objects in the room. You know your beta friends are completely unaware of it, but it’s all you can focus on.

Harry invites you all to sit down and get comfortable. He spends time with your group, getting to know everyone, joking around, answering questions about himself and his music.

After a little while Jada comes back to lead you all to your seats since the opening act is about to start.

“It was lovely meeting you all. Jada, could you bring Rachel, Violet, and Ameila to the lounge and come back for Y/N? I wanted to speak with her for a minute. That is, if you’re comfortable with that,” Harry says.

The last part is directed at you, and everyone pauses to see your reaction.

“Yea, that’s fine with me,” you reply after a moment. Truthfully you’re nervous to be alone with him. Not because you’re uncomfortable or scared, but because you’re worried that you’ll somehow make a fool of yourself.

Everyone else leaves the room and Harry wordlessly motions to the couch. The two of you sit side by side, angled to face each other. It’s silent for a minute as you wait for him to say whatever is on his mind.

“I wanted to ask how you’ve been. I know what happened must have been pretty traumatizing for you. I almost got your number from Jada to text you, but I didn’t want to be pushy or nosey or anything,” he finally says.

You can’t help but smile as he rambles, completely endeared by this bashful alpha.

“First, you’re more than welcome to text me if you’d like.” You pause, surprised at how forward you just were. “And uhm, it’s been rough, but manageable. Some bad dreams. Some shakiness. Things like that.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Douse some clothes in your scent so I can surround myself with it at all times, you think to yourself but somehow manage not to say it out loud.

What you reply instead is, “No, I think I have it under control.”

“Alright, if you’re sure. But please let me know if you need something. I know the idea that omegas need an alpha taking care of them is antiquated but I can’t help it when it comes to you.”

“Me?” you ask. “Like specifically? Or all omegas?”

He chuckles shyly and says, “To be fair I know very few omegas. But I’ve never really felt this protective over someone before. I couldn’t help but think about you the last few weeks. Worry about you, really.”

“Because I got hurt at one of your shows?”

“That’s part of it. But, ah, there’s more than that, I think.” You try not to get your hopes up, try not to think that maybe he likes you the way you like him. How could he? He’s a world-famous popstar and you literally sit at a computer and organize data all day. You don’t even have any fun hobbies. Literally nothing about you is interesting. You’re nothing like the girls he’s dated in the past.

He takes in your silence and continues, saying, “I feel connected to you. And I’d like to get to know you better. What I’d really like is to consider you a friend, rather than just an acquaintance.”

“I would like that too,” you reply calmly.

“In that case, would I be able to get your phone number?”

You bite back the squeal of excitement trying to escape and say, “Yes, of course you can.”

The two of you exchange numbers, and you take note of the coy smile on Harry’s face as you do so.

There’s a knock at the door and Jada pops in, letting you know she’ll be waiting in the hallway to show you to your seat. You and Harry both stand, and he says, “Y/N, it’s been wonderful seeing you again. I hope you enjoy the show.”

“Thank you again for the tickets, and for getting us backstage tonight.”

“My pleasure.” He opens his arms, inviting you in for a hug. It’s a new line you’re crossing, having only touched hands before, but you don’t even hesitate. His arms wrap around your shoulders as yours go to his waist. Your nose is dangerously close to his scent gland. You turn your head away from his neck in order to resist the temptation to take a deep breath searching for his delicious smell.

You force yourself to pull away before you get too comfortable in his embrace. The two of you share another shy smile before you grab your purse and head out to follow Jada.

The second you get to the private lounge your friends start asking questions, wanting to know every detail of your time alone with Harry. You tell them that he checked how you were doing, and that he wants to be friends. You also mention that you now have each other’s phone numbers.

“Oh my God, girl! That’s insane!” Rachel says.

“You can text Harry Styles. You can pick up your phone and call him, whenever you want,” Violet adds.

You laugh at their reactions and look at Amelia, surprised by her uncharacteristic silence. You laugh ever harder when you realize she’s literally stunned into silence.

Suddenly everyone in the venue starts screaming and you all redirect your attention to the stage as the show begins. It’s an amazing experience as you and your friends sing and dance along. More than once you think Harry is actually looking for you. He glances up to where you are as though searching the crowd to find you. He’s probably not, but you can’t help but hope that he is.

Violet drops you off at your home after the concert. You’re about to get into bed when your phone dings. A huge smile spreads across your face when you see a text from Harry saying, “Hope you enjoyed the show and got home safe! Sleep well.”

You think for a moment before replying, “You were fantastic! Thank you again. Good night!”

For the first time in weeks, you sleep peacefully through the night without any reminders of Harry’s scent in the room.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@theekyliepage@numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry@ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess@houseofdilfs@shaquille-0atmeal-1@kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye@n0vaj3an@snwells@drunk-teens-doing-drugs ; @fdl305@creativelyeva@daphnesutton@selluequestrian@lovingfurypanda @stardream14 @tbsloneely@eversincehs1 @boomitsallie1 @rose-garden-dreamz

[hqbaby]

twenty-four — get it now

fuck ur instincts — suna x reader & atsumu x reader

you and suna are just fooling around—so why does he care so much when you start falling in love with someone else?

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 2.1k content. swearing, big feelings, not much rly?

You wouldn’t say you’ve ever been a violent person. Sure, there were the occasional punches you threw at Oikawa and the slap wars with Yachi and that one time you and Yukie decided to box each other in the gym… but those times don’t count. They’re your friends and you only fight them because you love them.

The point is that you’ve never wanted to punch a stranger. Not until now at least.

It’s the weekend after midterms and you and a few of your friends have managed to pool some money together (mostly Sakusa) to rent a villa near the beach. Granted, it’s basically winter and none of you have any intentions of swimming, but you’re all usually caught up with training in the spring and summer so this is your only real chance to do this.

So here you are, gathered with your friends in the living room over mountains of food, talking over some reality dating show… meeting Suna’s girlfriend.

“This is Ayame,” he tells the group, his arm around her waist. “She’s my girlfriend.”

Everyone is stunned. And rightfully so. They all know that Suna and the word “girlfriend” just don’t mix. At least, they’ve never seen it happen before. They never thought they would.

It’s your boyfriend who speaks up first.

“Well I’ll be damned!” he says, smiling widely. Like he’s just won a prize. “Yer the girl he’s been seein’ for a while now, aren’t ya?”

The girl blushes a little at that, offering a soft smile.

She’s pretty. You’ll give her that. And, honestly, in any other context, you would actually want to get to know her, to be her friend.

Maybe if Suna’s arm wasn’t around her waist—holding her the same way he used to hold you—you wouldn’t feel the urge to tackle her. Right now, you’re about ready to jump up from the couch and grab her hair.

“It’s so nice to meet you all,” she says, tamping your violent intentions. “I hope you don’t mind me crashing your weekend together.”

Atsumu speaks again. “We don’t mind at all! We’d love to have our Sunarin’s girlfriend with us.”

Suna glares at him. “Whatever,” he says, picking up her bags and leading her to the stairs. “I’m gonna help her get settled.”

The two of them walk up to the second floor and, when everyone hears the door upstairs open and close, the room erupts into chaos.

“Who the fuck was that?” Aran.

“That man’s a mystery!” Hinata.

“I wonder what’s wrong with her.” Osamu.

“Did she take off her shoes?” Sakusa.

“She has a pretty smile!” Bokuto.

“Did we all see the same thing?” Kita.

"Okay, I think she took off her shoes." Sakusa.

“I think it’s great!” Atsumu.

You glance over at your boyfriend sitting beside you, brows furrowed as you catch his beaming smile and bright eyes. “You think it’s great?”

He turns to you and nods. “I mean, he finally has someone. That’s cool, right?”

There’s an edge to his tone that you’ve only picked up on now. What is it?

“Right,” you say, smiling awkwardly. “It is—it’s good for him.”

The truth is that Atsumu hasn’t brought up your relationship with Suna since you first talked about it. You have a feeling he’s been avoiding the subject entirely. You haven’t been too keen on discussing it either so you just never mentioned it.

You don’t know how he actually feels about the whole thing. And, if you’re being honest, you’re a little scared to find out.

The boys eventually head down the basement to mess with the pool table while you, Kaori, and Yachi grab a bottle of wine and play a game of Monopoly. You’re all cheating and the rules are entirely lost on account of you constantly distracting each other with new topics to talk about, but you’re having fun.

Until you’re not.

“Hey,” Suna greets the three of you—well, it’s more like he greets Yachi and Kaori with how much he’s avoiding your eyes, but it’s the thought that counts. His girlfriend is right behind him. “Where are the guys?”

“Basement. They’ve been waiting for you,” Kaori answers, she rolls the dice and waves at the girl behind him. “You wanna join us?”

Your eyes flick over to Kaori’s across the coffee table, but all she does is give you a look like “What are we supposed to do? Ignore her?” and you know she’s right. You can't be rude.

You look up at the girlfriend and smile. “Yeah, join us!” you say cheerily. “The boys are lame anyway.”

She starts at your sudden attention but hides it well. She’s clearly had some practice. “Oh, sure,” she says. “Thank you.”

Suna makes a face like he’s about to say something but decides against it. With a short nod and a quick glance at you, he says he’ll see you all later and walks out of the room.

“So who’s winning?” the girlfriend asks, sitting down on the carpet at the empty side of the table—beside you.

“Oh, no one really,” you tell her. “We’ve mostly been talking.”

She smiles. “I get that,” she says. “I can’t even watch movies with my friends anymore. We just talk over them.”

“We do too!” Yachi says, rolling the dice and taking her turn. “Y/N’s the worst of us though.”

You stick your tongue out at her. “Says the person that talked through Barbie.”

“I had to pee and no one was catching me up!”

You and Kaori laugh, taking your turns at the game.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch your name earlier,” you tell the girl as you pay Yachi.

“Oh!” she says. “It’s Ayame.”

You nod at her, smiling so sweetly you almost make yourself sick. “I’m Y/N,” you say before looking over at your friends, “and that’s Kaori and Yachi.”

“It’s so nice to meet you all.”

Highly doubt that.

“What’s your major?” Yachi asks. “Shoot, Kao, I rolled the die under the couch.”

“I’m an econ major,” Ayame says, laughing a little as Kaori struggles to grab the die. “Need help?”

Kaori shakes her head, pulling her arm from under the couch and holding the die up for all to see. “Tada!” she says before turning her attention back to Ayame. “Why econ?”

The girl shrugs. “Parents.”

“Same.” Kaori sighs. “They made me go into marketing.”

“I’m in marketing too,” Yachi says. “That’s how Kaori and I met.”

Ayame nods before turning to look at you. “Y/N, you’re taking chem, right?”

You focus on the board in front of you, keeping your eyes away from her when you answer. “Yeah, how’d you know?”

She giggles and you can’t help but feel your blood boil at the sound. It just sounds so light and airy and sweet, no one should be able to laugh that way. “Everyone kinda knows you,” she says. “You’re the campus dream girl.”

“Ah,” you say, letting out a chuckle. You sound so fake. “Right.”

The four of you continue exchanging the regular pleasantries. Where are you from? What highschool did you go to? How were your midterms?

The more she talks, the more you start to hate Ayame even more... because there's absolutely nothing wrong with her. She’s so perfect it makes you wish you could just spontaneously combust.

“So you and Suna, huh?” Kaori eventually says. “That’s interesting.”

You narrow your eyes at her slightly, hoping Ayame doesn’t catch on. “Yeah, we were all wondering about that, Kao.”

The girl seems oblivious to your tone. Or at least she doesn’t care enough to react to it. “Oh, well, you know,” she says, placing her hands on the carpet behind her and leaning back. “He’s not exactly the commitment type.”

Yachi nods. “Yeah, we wouldn't necessarily peg him as that.”

You clear your throat. “So how did you guys get together?” you ask, trying to sound as natural as possible.

Ayame seems to shrink a little at that. You wonder why. “We were kinda seeing each other casually for a while,” she explains. “About two weeks ago, we decided to make it official.”

Kaori stills, having the same realization as you. “Two weeks?”

“Yup. Before midterms season.”

Two weeks ago, you had just gotten home from your trip visiting family. Two weeks ago, Suna told Atsumu something about what happened between the two of you. Two weeks ago, you came clean to your boyfriend about what had happened. 

For two whole weeks you’ve been wondering what Suna told him.

For two whole weeks, he’s been with this girl. This girl who looks too good, too kind, too sweet to deserve anything less than the best. The complete opposite of you, the complete opposite of Suna, the complete opposite of what anyone deserves.

You don’t even realize you’re standing up until Kaori asks if you’re okay.

“Yeah, I am,” you reassure her, trying your best to keep the smile from slipping off your face. “I just need some air. I’ll be right back.”

You slip out of the room, putting on a stray sweater from a nearby couch, and stepping out into the backyard of the rental. You sit on one of the benches outside, the whole place dark save for a few lampposts and the stars in the night sky.

You find your phone in your pocket and tap the top name in your contacts, trying to catch your breath.

“Hello?” the voice on the other line says. “Y/N? Is everything okay?”

You’re scared that you'll end up choking on nothing. “Tooru,” you say quietly, a strangling sensation gripping your throat. “I-he—well, it’s… bad. I don’t feel good.”

“What? Are you okay? Did something happen?”

The panic in his voice snaps you out of your haze.

“No! Fuck, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” you tell him. “Sorry. I just didn’t know who to call.”

You hear him breathe a sigh of relief at the sound of your words. “Okay,” he says, clearly still concerned, “but what’s wrong?”

You let out a sob. You didn’t know you were crying.

“He has a girlfriend,” you say, crouching and putting your head in your hands. You don’t even try to wipe your tears, they’d just keep coming anyway. “And she’s pretty and sweet and completely innocent in all this and… I should’ve seen it coming.”

You don’t even need to say his name for Oikawa to know who you’re talking about. 

He sucks through his teeth, worried about you and a little disappointed that you’re having this conversation in the first place. He knew you were still being weird about Suna, but he figured that being Atsumu had changed things for you. He should’ve known things wouldn't change that much that soon.

“That sucks,” he says eventually. “I’m really sorry, Y/N.”

You shake your head, holding the phone to your ear. “I’m being stupid.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I already have Atsumu. This is so fucking dumb.”

“Stop it.”

“I honestly don’t know what I expected. It’s not like he cared about me—”

His voice is hard on the other line. “No,” he says firmly. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

You take a deep breath, sucking in the salty air drifting from the ocean. “Sorry, Tooru,” you tell him. “I’m okay. Just a sucky moment. Sorry.”

You hang up before he can even say another word. You just sit there on the bench, staring at the beach as the waves overtake the shore, the chill winds that come with the end of fall surrounding you.

“Y/N?”

Fuck.

“Ayame, hey,” you say, wiping your eyes as best as you can. “Is everything good?”

She nods, closing the door to the house behind her. “Yeah, everything’s fine,” she tells you. The girl steps closer, cautiously taking a seat on the bench a good distance away from you. “Are you good?”

“Oh, yeah, never been better,” you say, waving it off. “Allergies.”

She nods. “Right.”

You pick at your nails anxiously, unable to say anything else. There’s just something about having her sit beside you that sets your lungs ablaze. You’re burning from inside out and you can’t say it’s a good feeling.

“You should talk to him.”

Your head bolts up at that, staring at Ayame with a confused look. “What do you mean?”

The expression on her face could be anything. Pity? Worry? Concern? Jealousy? You can’t tell. All you know is she probably feels bad about something.

“Suna,” she says, the name rolling off her tongue like a knife to the heart. “You should talk to him. He might have some things to say to you.”

“What are you talking about?”

Ayame reaches out and places a hand on top of yours. She smiles. “I think I get it now.”

You frown. Why is she touching you? And why aren’t you pulling away? “Get what?”

“Talk to him,” she says, squeezing your hand. She gets up and heads for the door. “Just… listen to what he has to say.”

She steps inside the house and closes the door behind her, leaving you gaping in confusion in her wake.

What would he have to say?

notes. now everyone say THANK YOU AYAME also!! we are kinda entering the end zone 🫣 idk how to feel abt that yet but YEAH HERE WE ARE

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Satisfaction

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 1.2K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: enemies to lovers, cursing, violence, mentions of torture, knoll attack, angst to fluff

----------------------

“I can’t fucking believe you.” you seethed at him.

“Likewise you entitled little cunt.” Astarion spat back.

You threw a punch at him, connecting with his jaw. Karlach and Wyll rushed over to hold you back as Astarion held his face. 

“You knew that quarrel was mine to settle. Kethric and Orin were mine to end. And then you just waltz off and kill them both while I’m out getting ready to fight your battle against Cazador?” you spat on the ground in front of him, shrugging Karlach and Wyll off harshly.

Astarion smirked at you, pleased with the fact he got under your skin. 

“The next time you need help I wont fucking be there. I hope Cazador gets what he wants, because I can't stand to be in your general vicinity, you low down bitch.” you could feel your eyes water with frustration but your voice remained stern. 

Astarion faltered but only for a moment, “How about instead of a tantrum I get a thank you? I dealt with your problem. That's two less issues on our laundry list of enemies.”

You glared at him, “How would you feel if I killed Cazador? Would be a different story right? You didn’t give me the satisfaction… Just… stay away from me Astarion.” your anger tapered out and all you could feel was emptiness. You walked back to your tent silently. Karlach and Wyll went back to what they were doing, also unhappy with what Astarion had done. 

You sniffled and wiped away any tears that fell as you packed your bag. You needed to get away from camp, just for a few days. Sort yourself out. You told Karlach deep in the night what was going on and begged her not to tell anyone else. She agreed, understanding completely.

You walked out of camp while the sun was still missing from the morning sky. 

-----------------------

Astarion woke from his meditation, leaving his tent his eyes widened when he saw your tent was broken down. Everything of yours was missing, including you. He walked over to your tent, trying to find a sign that you’d be back. His heart started to race. 

Fuck.

He knew your fight last night hurt you. And he admittedly did go after Kethric and Orin to shorten the never ending list of enemies, but he also did it to take a shot at you. You’d both squabble since this little adventure started. Constantly goading each other for an unknown reason. Astarion jogged over to Karlach’s tent, you two were close, instant best friends. 

“Where is Y/N?” he asked quickly.

Karlach shrugged, not speaking to him. 

“Do you know where they went?” he asked again.

“Why do you care?” she sighed, finally looking at him. 

“I… don’t… I was just… wondering if they were still licking their wounds.” he said, trying to sound convincing.

“Well, they’re just an entitled cunt, right?” Karlach glared at him.

“Come now my fiery friend, you know Y/N and I have our little rows.” he tried to defend himself.

“Except this wasn’t a row Astarion!” Karlach yelled. Astarion stepped back, wincing at her sudden loud tone. “They were tortured for an eternity. Just like you. They dreamed of escaping. Just like you. They are trying to heal. Just like you. How dare you sit there and take away the one shot at revenge they had? How. Fucking. Dare. You.” she said, poking him in the chest harshly with every last word.

“I… I didn’t know that…” Astarion whispered. 

“Well it’s not exactly something they wanted to advertise.” she said, turning around, frustration evident in her voice. 

“Do you know where they are?” he asked one last time, the guilt inside him boiling up his throat. 

“No.” Karlach said before walking back into her tent, ending the conversation.

Astarion huffed, running his hands over his face. He felt awful, your typical fights were short and sweet. This was… something else now. 

----------------------------

Ver’yll jogged into camp after a few days, running over to Karlach. He spoke to her briefly, her face falling instantly. She grabbed her axe, running out of camp. Astarion saw this and quickly followed, not wanting Karlach to go alone to whatever this is. Running deep into Baldur’s Gate, Karlach ran into the open hand temple. Astarion dashed behind her before he saw you. Unconscious on a cot, with bandages wrapped around your torso. Blood seeping through slightly. His heart stopped, his feet planted to the floor. Karlach knelt beside you, grasping your limp hand. 

“What happened?” Astarion asked the cleric tending to you. 

“Don’t know, they were found on the steps this morning. Looks like a gnoll did a number on them.” The cleric replied, “They’ll need to spend a few days here to heal.”

“I’ll stay with them.” Astarion said instantly.

Karlach furrowed her brows at him. 

“Please…” he said with his soft eyes ever present. 

“Fine, I’ll go let the others know. Keep a low profile.” she said with a stern voice.

Astarion held your hand, pushing hair out of your face and ghosting his fingers over your cheek. 

------------------------------

It took you three days to wake up. Astarion rushed to your side, “Little love, are you alright? Cleric!” he called out.

You squinted at the light pouring in from the stained glass window. Voices echo in your head, your eyesight not quite adjusting. “Astarion?” you croaked out sleepily. 

You tried to sit up but he gently pushed you back down, shushing you. The cleric pushed him aside. “No…” you said, reaching for him weakly. 

He moved to the other side of the cot, holding your hand. The cleric worked deftly, changing your bandages and rubbing different solutions into your stitched up gashes. You faded in and out of consciousness for this process before finally waking up fully as the cleric left the room. You looked at Astarion as you felt him kiss your hand. You looked at him, his eyes moved over your exposed torso, looking at the scars Orin and Kethric had left over many years. You had never seen his eyes look so doe like, so round and full of sorrow. 

“Did you stay with me the whole time?” you asked.

He nodded, bringing a cup of water to your lips. 

“Thank you.” you said after taking a few sips.

“I’m so sorry Y/N… Karlach told me… I never would have done that if I knew… I know I can’t take it back, and no amount of apologies will make up for it… but please know I am truly sorry.” he rubbed his thumb over your knuckles. 

“I was so angry with you…” you started, looking in his eyes. “But… I know you were just trying to kill enemies we had, and you didn’t know why I wanted them dead so bad. I should have told you… thank you, for apologizing.” you said with a sigh.

“Maybe we should put this whole bickering business behind us?” he said, brushing some hair away from your forehead.

You chuckled softly, “No way… how will I spend so much time with you if we aren’t fighting?” 

“Darling, if time with me is what you wish all you have to do is ask.” he kissed your hand again before smiling at you. 

“Never been good at asking for what I want… Should we start over?” you asked, shifting closer to him. 

“No way…” he smiled before leaning over and kissing your cheek. 

--------------------

Naboo's Note:

Hello everyone! Sorry I went on a little hiatus, I was in the hospital for sepsis so kinda hard to write when I was that sick. I hope this is to everyones liking, I'll post one or two more fics over the weekend. Thank you for all the likes, comments, reblogs, and requests. Love youuuuuuu XOXOXOXO!!!!!!!

[yanderelinkeduniverse]

Yandere Twilight Headcanons

Say it with me now: one word, PROTECTIVE. Twilight is the most actively protective member of the Chain by far. Even though the others obviously have their moments, and they’re each strongly protective of you, Twilight is the one who acts on it the most.

He’s like a loyal guard dog(ha) who follows you around whenever you go into town or are just getting stuff like firewood when you’re all camping out. When you’re in town, Twilight doesn’t hesitate to silently intimidate anyone looking to mess with you into hightailing it away from him.

I like to think that the constant Wolfie transformations leave Twilight with some sharper than average fangs and he is totally willing to use them whenever the situation calls for it.

Even if he’s in his human form, he won’t shy away from biting straight through someone’s jugular if need be. He may find mauling someone to death disgusting, but his personal disgust doesn’t mean anything compared to your health and safety.

As such, it goes without saying that whenever battle ensues, you are his top priority. Before he does anything he is making sure that you are kept away from the danger, he doesn’t want a scratch on you.

If you do happen to get injured, suffice it to say Twilight is blocking out whatever else is going on as he cuts through the crowd of monsters to reach you. He doesn’t care if one of the heroes needs help, you got a scraped knee dammit!

Speaking of Wolfie, Twilight abuses the hell out of his wolf form if or when he learns you’re a dog person. He’ll start transforming every other day just to receive affection from you, and whenever you stop he’ll start whining for more.

Wolfie has an easier time scaring off creeps, so that’s always a bonus.

However, if you’re not a dog person and are more of a cat lover, that’s also something he uses to bond with you. Twilight loves picking up dogs and cats like babies, so he’s always down to fawn over any adorable animals you run into.

Though on some days when he feels deprived of affection, he’ll get all pouty and jealous of the animals you love on. Even if he’s rather die than admit it out loud, he’ll still transform just to get a sliver of the attention you give to those animals.

Another thing Twilight does that is similar to a dog is how he’ll constantly be doing things to earn your approval. A day doesn’t go by where he doesn’t offer to do you a favor or insist he handle any heavy lifting you have to do.

And he never asks for a single favor or item or payment in return, all he wants is to have you smile at him as he serves you. If he could, he’d wait on you hand and feet every waking hour of the day, nothing compares to the joy he gets helping you with any task.

Since Twilight is one of the few heroes who has a personal experience specifically with a love interest from another world returning to her world and him never being able to see her again, Twilight has a lot of issues regarding how your original plan involves leaving him them forever.

In fact, once Twilight’s innocent affection for you has progressed into genuinely being in love with you, he’s already painfully aware of what will happen. At first, he tries to move on, telling himself that there’s nothing to be done about it and that it’ll hurt less this time around since he already knows what’s coming.

But then his love for you starts to transform into something even deeper as his sanity slowly starts getting chipped away and he becomes more and more viscous in how protective he is of you. And eventually he decides that he can’t lose you, he can’t go through what he did again.

He’ll do anything to make this world your home.