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rafeandonlyrafe · 11 days

Text

the same tv

words: 1.8k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, unprotected sex, p in v sex, parent death, funerals, robbery, redemption/forgiveness, addiction, drinking (wine, not like hard drinking), tickling, cockwarming, they call themselves kids at one point but at no point are reader or rafe under 18, like itll make sense once you read it in context

the first thing you do when you enter your house is kick off your shoes. the next is to stop holding back your tears as they stream down your face. you can't even sob anymore, just silent, steady tears.

you sigh as you look around the entryway. there's been some changes since you moved away, despite only being out of your parents house for a little over a year. they replaced the grand portrait that was of your mom's parents with one of you, now taking the place of honor.

you look away before you get to the rest of the family photos. you've seen enough at the funeral. you walk further in to the house, bare feet against the shiny wood floor.

you pause when you hear something further in. you haven't forgotten how the old house seemed to speak, groaning and settling during strong winds or when too many people were crammed between it's walls.

this sound seems different, but you're also occasionally sniffling, your ears are shot from blasting music in an attempt to distract yourself, so you shrug it off and walk further into the living room.

the sound suddenly makes sense as you see someone stood in your living room, arms holding up your parents flat screen television, awkwardly trying to carry it.

you aren't even mad. you honestly don't care about the tv. or the fact that someone is trying to rob you.

you let out a bitter laugh before you sink to the floor. “of fucking course this happens.” you are glad you still have your purse slung from your shoulder as you pull your wallet out, quite aggressively throwing it at the robber who has now frozen.

“what?” he questions, lowering the tv to the ground and pushing his hood of his head, a dumb move for someone currently committing a crime.

“this has been the worst week of my life and now you're robbing me. just my fucking luck…” you let out a broken sob. “just take whatever you want and leave.”

the only things that matter to you still in the house aren't actually worth anything anyways. the photos of your parents, your dad's cologne that's half empty, the oak tree that your childhood dog is buried next to.

“i thought the people who lived here died.”

you pick your head up, a look of fury overtaking your face.

“they did. they're my fucking parents! and now they're gone and you're fucking robbing me! get the fuck out!” you stand up, pushing at the robbers chest.

he looks familiar, like you should know who he is but can't place him.

“im-shit. im sorry.” he says, allowing you to shove him away and out the door.

“im really fucking sorry!” he yells again before you slam the door shut.

-- years later --

you park your car in the driveway instead of pulling it all the way into the garage like you know you should, but you need to know if you're correct about the man sitting on your front step.

“you're the kid that tried to rob me.” you say as you walk the sidewalk to the porch.

“yes.” he says, looking ashamed and a whole lot more grown up. “i was an addict and i owed a debt. my dad had just kicked me out of the house and i was on my own for the first time. it was stupid of me, but when i heard the people living here died, i thought it'd be a victimless crime.”

he sighs deeply, like even just thinking back to that time physically hurts. “i didn't even think that someone could have inherited the house. im so, so sorry.”

he swallows thickly. “my mom died when i was young. my dad- my dad just died recently. he faked his death and i got him back, but he's actually gone this time. you know what you said about the worst week in your life?”

you think back those years. it's mostly a blur, especially the days surrounding your parents car crash and funeral, but you do remember breaking down in front of the robber. you nod gently, waiting to hear the end of his speal.

“i know what you mean now. and im sorry i hurt you. im sorry about your parents dying.” he pulls something out of his pocket, extending his hand.

you look into his open palm, realizing it's a ornate gold necklace.

“no.” you shake your head. “you keep it. you don't need to bribe me to forgive you.”

“i want you to have it.” he says. “it's… it's not a lot, but it's something. something to help make up for what ive done.”

you reach forward, carefully taking the necklace out of his outstretched hand, carefully not to accidentally bump his skin.

“thank you.” you say, admiring the way the sun gleams off the metal.

“im rafe, by the way. rafe cameron.”

“y/n.” you respond, undoing the clasp of the necklace.

“here, let me.” he takes it out of your hands, moving quicker than you can think as he steps around you. your hair is already up in a bun, so rafe is able to reach around and easily place the chain around your neck.

“thank you.” the weight of the necklace feels comfortable against your skin, like it's the last finishing touch you need. you are wearing your mother's earrings, your father's bracelet, and now you have the other piece of what made that time in your life so miserable, your robbers necklace.

“i… i guess ill be going now.” rafe says.

you turn and watch him walk away. you recognize so much of your former self in him, the clear grieving he's going through.

“are you sober now?” you call out before he reaches the end of your driveway.

“sober enough.” he shouts back. rafe doubts he'll ever truly be clean, but he can at least manage now, doesn't need the drugs like he used to.

“then come back for dinner tomorrow. we can talk.”

you can see the smile stretch over his features. “ill be there.”

-- three months later --

“shit.” rafe says, head snapping over to you. “this is the same tv.”

you giggle and nod, surprised it took him so long to realize. “i never really watch tv on the actual tv, so no need to replace it.” you shrug, the gold necklace still draped over your neck. you haven't taken it off except to shower and sleep.

“god, thats crazy.” rafe looks over to you. “imagine if we just talked back then.”

you shake your head. “you just think you want that because we get along now. we were both in bad places.”

“you don't think we would have been hooking up back then?” rafe asks, raising an eyebrow at you, watching the way your thighs press together at the mere mention of hooking up, already feeling the urge to sleep with rafe even after having sex only a couple of hours ago.

“we were two scared kids. if we were hooking up we definitely shouldn't have been.” you giggle, reaching your wine glass out for rafe to refill, which he is glad to pour a more than healthy amount in.

“and now?” rafe looks down at his lap.

“and now we are two slighty less scared slightly older kids.” you giggle again, taking a deep sip before leaning across the couch cushion to press a kiss to rafes cheek, the movie you had put on long forgotten.

“rafe.” you wait until he looks you in the eye. “im here for you.”

“god, what have i done to deserve you?” rafe wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you on top of him as he flops back onto the couch.

you let out a laugh before it's cut off with his lips. he kisses you heavily, hand against the back of your head, not allowing you to pull away, not that you want to.

you let himself get lost in your kiss. you wish you had someone to support you in the time you needed most, and you're determined to be that person for rafe now.

rafe easily dominates your mouth even though he's underneath you as you quickly work your shorts off, wiggling against him until your bottom half is nude.

you press against rafes crotch, still covered by his sweatpants. you feel his cock straining against the fabric as you rub your pussy against it, wetting the gray material.

“baby, please.” rafe groans. he would pull his cock out himself, but his hands are preoccupied holding you close to him as if his life depends on it.

“oh, now you don't like teasing?” you smile.

“alright, i deserve this.” rafe also manages a chuckle despite his straining erection. “but please. need to feel your pussy ‘round me.”

“alright.” you roll your eyes dramatically. you'll have to get revenge on rafe at a different time for edging you the other night.

you push his pants down his thighs until you're able to reach into his underwear and pull out his cock. you give him a few quick strokes before lining up your entrance and sinking down.

rafe let's out a moan, barely pulling his face away from yours. “you're so wet.”

“it's almost like i like you or something.” you roll your eyes.

rafe laughs before kissing you again, hand moving up to your hair, tangling his fingers between the strands.

you sit on his cock for a moment, adjusting, before beginning to move, up then down, up then down, subtle movements of your hips, not needing anything fast, wanting drawn out, wanting it to last.

the movie is long over by the time rafe finally cums, a hand finally moving down to rub your clit to make sure you get off at the same time as his.

by the time you're both satisfied, you're sweaty and exhausted. you don't even bother to pull off his cock as you rest your head against his chest.

“thank you.” rafe says softly, rubbing his hand over your back. you don't need to ask what for. you know. for being there. you'll always be there.

you look up at him, a small smile on your face. “how are we gonna tell people we met?”

things are quickly getting serious, and while he hasn't breached the subject with you yet, neither of you have been hiding how quickly you're falling.

“what, you think it's a problem that we met when i was robbing you?” rafe says, making you giggle, only intensified by his hand pressing into your side, fingers tickling you as you howl with laughter.

rafe flips you over onto your back so you're underneath him, keeping his cock pushed inside of you.

“maybe we should just tell people we met on tinder.” rafe shrugs.

you roll your eyes. “somehow that's more embarrassing.”

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pandorxxx · 9 months

Text

Trading places

Lo’ak x omatikayan fem reader

Warnings: p in v, cursing,multiple creampies, orgasms, praise kink, dom-reader, whimpering/frustrated/crying lo’ak.

🔞mdni🔞

“Shiiiiit.” Lo’ak whimpered, his tied hands pressing against your stomach to slow you down. You had been riding him for the past hour, milking him dry of everything. Ropes of his own seed dripping down his balls with every bounce of your hips. Sticky pelvises colliding rapidly.

“You can take it, right? Isn’t that what you make do?” You moaned, holding onto his clammy shoulders as his head fell back on the couch. He shook his head lazily, tears streaming down his flushed face.

“I-Im so sorry, baby. I’m sorry, but I-I can’t do this. Please.” He spoke breathily, voice rippling with each hard bounce to his lap. His eyes met yours, he was practically pleading from the gaze he gave you, but all you did was kiss his forehead.

“No, baby. I want you to cum for me.” You teased, rolling your hips into his. He gasped, glancing down at the source of pleasure.

“Ohhh come o-nnnn. I came s-seven times already- ngh!- please. I don’t t-treat you like this. It’s t-oooo much.” He growled in frustration, his teeth chattering from the overstimulation.

“One more time, big boy. You can do it. You’re doing so good for me.” you moaned, purposely clenching around him. He groaned in restraint, his jaw clenching as his head went back again. He wanted nothing more than to rip out of those restraints.

You continued bouncing on him relentlessly. Loud clapping sounds filling the room. Lo’ak was usually the dominant one, and the switch in roles had him frustrated, on top of the unbearable pleasure you were sending him. He began to weep under you. Tears blurring his vision. He tried to push on your stomach again, just to hault your movements.

“Goddamn Y/n, please. Why are y-ouuu fucking me like this? I-I can’t feel my legs baby, pleaseee!” He cried, trying to wiggle out of the restraints, but it was no use.

“Because I WANT to.” You hissed, bouncing on him slow and hard, making his head spin. His mouth flew opened, silent whimpers escaping as his eyes rolled back.

“Yeahhh, baby. You like that? Hmm?” You teased, kissing his bottom lip. He nodded lazily, his body starting to spazz under yours.

“I-I can’t. Fuuuck, I can’t.” He mumbled, his head sinking into his chest as he fluttered in and out of consciousness. You let out a little chuckle, smacking his cheek gently.

“I know, I know. I’m almost done. Just wake up for me.” You reassured, rolling your hips into his. “Ah-a-ha! O-Ok.” He whimpered, his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure.

“Y/n. I-Im gonna cum. I-I’m cumming.” He moaned, lip quivering as his eyes rolled in pleasure. He let out a loud groan before shooting his eighth load of the night, directly into your womb.

“Ohhh yes, lo’ak. I can feel it….so fucking much of it.” You spoke sensually against his quivering lips. Your sweet words making him let out a loud moan as he filled you up to the brim.

“Keep filling me up, lo’ak. Juuuust like that. Pump me FULL, ok?” You moaned in his ear, licking it seductively to tease him.

“Fuuuuuck.” He spoke in an exhausted tone, head finding refuge on the couch again. You sped up the pace, moaning loudly as you chased your orgasm.

“P-please. It’s s-ooo sensitive, y/n.” He whimpered, shaking with every bounce. God, you loved the way he begged.

“2 more minutes. I-I’m almost there! Fuuuck lo’ak.” You whimpered, speeding up your pace. In turn, making lo’aks head spin.

“Ohhh, oh fuck. Ohhhh fuck!” He moaned, trying to get out of those restraints now more than ever. It was the moment when you started to roll your hips, nice and hard. He lost all thought. Beginning to pass out completely with a few sharp whimpers before he closed his eyes.

“YES! SO CLOSE LO’AK!” You screamed, eyes closed as your body began to shake from the on coming orgasm. He let out a small groan in response, still fluttering in and out of consciousness.

“Mmm cumming!” You announced, bouncing your way through your intense orgasm with a Loud moan. You finally slowed down before stopping completely. Catching your breath before looking down at you lifeless boyfriend with a loud gasp.

“Oh God. Lo’ak?” You asked, untying the restraints gently, only for his hands to fall In his lap. He groaned in agony underneath you, grabbing your hips softly.

“I-I’ve gotta.” Lo’ak panted, trying to lazily lift you off of him, with little to no success. “You’ve gotta what, baby?” You asked, caressing the sides of his heavy head.

“Gotta—uhh. C-Clean you up.” He muttered, trying to sit up, only to fail miserably with a loud sigh.

“What did you do to me?” He joked, looking into the sky in defeat. You chuckled, lifting your hips up slowly. He came out with a pop, his seed spilling out of you like a waterfall.

“Ohhh shit.” He groaned, finding enough strength to watch the scene underneath him. “How about i clean up this time, hmm?” You asked, pecking his quivering lips. He rolled his eyes, frustrated at the fact that he couldn’t tend to you how he always does.

“Fine. But this is the LAST time you’ll be in control. You’re too much for me.” He chuckled, rubbing circles into your hips.

“Yes, lo’ak.” You nodded, standing up slowly to tend to your exhausted boyfriend. Maybe you should do this more often?

Taglist: @number1gal @loak-bae @tiredmamaissy @neytirishottie @terrorthewolf @lethargicluv @reyzzsostellar @m0nst3rfk3r @agelsully @jakescumdump @wekiamo @st-cass @cleardonutangelwagon @tsireqas @satanlovedays @afro-hispwriter @urfavgirlmakenna @fanboyluvr @iameatingmyhair @secretflowerobservation @violet-19999 @xreadersstuff @sweetllamaparadise @lia-nath @sullymenrhot @dotheyevenknowmars @xdbluesky @slay-nt @domino-x3-blog @ladylovegood-69 @itssomeonereading @sweetirilly @skxawngmia @j-jinxee @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @cumikering @pxndorasdream @itsaleidasworld @atxxokirina @yeletta @eywascall @valeriearriana37484 @avatarsslut @bee782916 @atxxokirina @taylormarieee @sweethoneycn

#avatar #avatar smut #avatar the way of water #avatar loak #loak headcanons #loak x reader #loak x y/n #loak smut #loak fic #atwow loak #loak imagine #loak fanfiction #loak sully #loak #loak x you #l

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sharpiedoodleee · 2 months

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hiiii so. i know im an art blog or whatever but this is something i was possessed to write a little bit ago thats been gathering dust in my drafts for a long while now. ive got a lot of half finished art wips that im not entirely sure im going to go back to so i thought youd enjoy Some kind of content

just dont get used to it, im not a writer :)

SSKK: feelings realisation, ffffluff (?)

= S I N N E R =

“you’re a mess”

“i am not a mess-“

“ryuu, i can tell you’ve been crying”

that makes him pause, faltering a step before tutting and looking off to the side. damned jinko and his tiger senses.

“before you ask i wasn't on about your- very obvious, by the way, you should work on that- about your breathing. although, it is really concerning-“

“jinko-“

“what? you wheeze on a good day akutagawa and you and i both know it”

ryuunosuke glares.

atsushu sighs, removing his hands from his hips and letting the reactionary tension bleed from his shoulders. this is getting him nowhere. he twirls his aching wrists, clenching and unclenching his hands in that way he knows akutagawa would normally snap at him for had he not be so busy trying to keep himself upright. he sighs again

“just-“ atsushi softens his tone, careful to keep the concern out of his voice “show me. where you’re injured.” at the scathing look akutagawa diegns him with, it seems he wasn't careful enough. atsushi clenches his jaw and breathes in through his nose. he never thought listening to kunikidas breathing excercises would come in handy for him - he likes to think hes a fairly calm person, but getting akutagawa to take care of himself would break even the most patient man.

he rolls his eyes “seriously, i could smell the blood on you before i could see you ,ryuu. im just really hoping its all yours”

ryuunosuke huffs a quiet “you’re such a bitch” that startles a incredulous laugh from atsushi. the tiger watches as the other man groans in defeat and lets himself sink to the floor; bracing against the brick behind him and clutching at his seemingly still bleeding side. if the weretiger is going to be so needlessly invasive he may as well rest, ryuunosuke muses, its not like the jinko hasnt seen him in worse conditions. he cringes away memories of a fleeting confession at sea, bleeding out infront of the detective again probably isnt the appropriate time to talk about it.

atsushi stops, squints, reassessing the mafioso “unless youve broken our promise-“

“alright- i messed up, jinko. is that what you wanted to hear? who knew you were such a fucking sadist-” he growls, annoyed now that the weretiger is still so untrusting of him “but i am not so imprudent as to keep my mistakes from you- seeing as that detective agency has finally taught you how to use that brain of yours” he doesnt bother to keep the bitterness out of his tone, they have both said and done much worse to each other after all. he leans back, ignoring his aching body’s protests and meets the weretigers now raised brow.

ryuunosuke sighs and goes lax against the wall, closing his eyes. fucking jinko…

“i have done a lot of shit in my life, jinko, but never once have i lied to you. i havent broken our promise and i wont. you should know this by now, you fool.”

the weretiger twitches, the name seemingly triggering something as his gaze slides off of ryuunosukes eyes and down to his neck. as the silence drags on the older opens his eyes, furrowing his brow as he takes in the jinkos frozen frame. His pupils are near pinpricks, jittering in the confides of his iris as his body is wracked with tremors. hes alarmingly silent, even as the tears overflow and begin to stream down his cheeks, even as his face contorts unattractively and his breathing speeds up. he wraps his arms around himself and ryuunosuke begrudgingly drags himself to his feet once again.

“…jinko?”

…

no response.

ryuunosuke blinks, the weretiger better not be fucking with him. he takes a tentative step forward, raising his palms placatingly from around his side and coiling rashomon around himself to hopefully keep his innards in, gods willing.

“atsushi…can you hear me?”

as he approaches he realises that atsushis now vacant gaze is still fixed to the wall ryuunosuke was sat against, seemingly caught on a ghost only he can see. hes yet to react to his aproach. doesnt seem to have noticed him move at all, really. and isnt that unusual? for someone who was just bitching about being able to hear every weary breath ryuunosuke took, the weretiger is alarmingly still. too struck by whatever horror his mind has conjured up this time to be aware of his surroundings, ryuunosuke imagines.

how the detective agency are still so seemingly oblivious to the weretigers plight ryuunosuke doesnt know.

but its not like he cares about the jinko.

…right?

shaking his head, the mafioso pushes that train of thought away and braces himself. if the jinko hadnt literally just been questioning his integrity as a partner he wouldve probably felt more guilty for what hes about to do, hes aware its horribly unorthodox. if his sibling knew of this they would surely have his head but its not like he has many options seeing as atsushi is near narcose. it may be brutish and harsh, even cruel to some,

but it works.

ryuunosuke taps the still quivering shoulder of the tiger and is unsuprised when that impassive gaze snaps to him with a mildly concerning crack of the jinkos neck. when that achingly familiar glow halos the alley in blue ryuunosuke sucks in a breathe and drops himself as low as he can to the sticky concrete below. his vision swims from the sudden movement and he can feel rashomon tighten her grip on his still bleeding wound, unsure if it was him who told her to or simply a byproduct of his coats concern.

he laughs deliriously. his coat is concerned but his supposed partner just tried to gut him? what a world he lives in…

gods, he hopes the tiger doesnt fancy a brawl in this tight, urine soaked alley. ryuunosuke is barely clinging to his conscious as it is.

when no second blow befalls his now prone body though, he chances a look up and immediately regrets it.

atsushi is staring at him now, his eyes glassy and overflowing with tears that smear his flushed face and nearly glitter in the dull light of the alley. hes clearly attempting to reaquaint himself with reality, stanced as he is over ryuunosukes unprotected form. his arm is still half raised from attacking him; cheap, flimsy shirt lifting to reveal smooth, tan skin…the mafioso laments over his own sickly figure as his eyes are glued to the rippling muscle hiding under there. a sheen of sweat is dripping down atsushis prominent hip bone that ryuunosuke wants to follow with his tongue. his eyes dragging down the shimmering silver happy trail he can just about see in the dying light of the alley.

…fuck.

ryuunosuke quickly looks back down at the floor, suddenly intent on examining the splatter of bird shit infront of him, lest his eyes rake any lower then they already have.

see, ryuunosukes not a fool. he knows he has…feelings to the tiger. it took a lot of reluctant, midnight rants with Gin to get there but he knows. the part of this thats blindsiding him is the all consuming, almost animalistic wave of desire this prediciment has sent careening through his bloodstream. its really not the time, but ryuunosukes never cared for things like that - you cant when you live a life like his. but that lack of practice at reeling himself in is really starting to kick him in the ass. the blood loss is not helping. rashomon is tacky from seeping up the evidence of his failure and ryuunosuke is just beginning to realise a lot of that moisture should be inside him. any remaining bloodflow is joyfully re-directing itself in a more unsavoury direction and ryuunosuke is increasingly glad hes laid himself flat on the concrete floor. his head is killing him.

throughout this whole process Atsushi is still just staring down at him, blinking rather aggressively as he processes what the fuck just happened.

…ryuunosukes really not sure how he manages to get himself in these situations.

#shin soukoku #sskk fic #tumblr fic #sskk #bungou stray dogs #bsd #atsushi nakajima #bsd sskk #akutagawa ryuunosuke #god i have to make a new tag dont i #sharpie writes #disgusting #i didnt mean to make ryuu so desperate btw it just happened #my guy does Not have enough blood in his system to deal with this #lmk if like tags or whatever need to be changed btw as i said i dont write so #am just a bab

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vileoperativeamaryllis · 10 months

Text

GONE WRONG

(DO NOT READ IF YOU DONT WANNA BE TOO SPOILED FOR THE FANFIC OF CARMEN SANDIEGO SEASON 5)

The drive back home to the headquarters was silent. Spinkick and Flytrap looked at eachother, noticing how quiet Amaryllis has been with disappointment probably stirring up inside of him.

The trio got out of the car. Amaryllis slams the car door shut, making the other two flinch slightly. They walk back into the headquarters, Amaryllis sat at his designated desk.

“What…The Heck.”

The two looked at him,

“What the heck…was that?!” He scolds them. “It was the perfect time to screw her up! To finally destroy her, and yet you two idiots decided to let her go?!” He slams his fists down the table, startling the two again!

Even so, Spinkick decided to speak. “Amaryllis…We’re—“

“Not sorry.” Spinkick’s eyes widened as Flytrap interrupts him, glaring at Amaryllis. Amaryllis squints his eyes, “What? Not sorry that you ruined the thing we worked the hardest for?! You two could have gotten yourself harmed and back to prison!”

Spinkick hugged himself tightly, but nevertheless, he took a deep breath in. “Litz, you know what..?” He took a step closer, towering over his teammate. “Yeah. To be honest, we’re not sorry.”

Amaryllis frowned and furrowed his brows, he looked down at the floor, and then back at Spinkick. “I thought you guys would help me! You are my family! I—“

“Yes, we wanted to destroy Carmen as well, but deep down, all we ever wanted was to be a family! With you, Amaryllis!” Spinkick yelled with deep, sorrowful passion in his voice.

“W—We wanted…to be a part of a family. Not to destroy someone else’s. And it’s…clearly hurting the both of us.” Flytrap looked at him, clearly concerned and stressed.

Amaryllis, who ran out of words to say, looked at the both of them. Sadness fueled him, but not as fast as anger did. Not as fast as the rage that reached his throat.

“THEN LEAVE! If I’m really hurting you this much, why don’t you just go?!”

“Amaryllis!—“

“GO AWAY!” He turned away, a lump forming in his throat. “I can’t let you guys stay with me if all you’ll do is put yourself in danger.. I honestly can’t focus with you two acting like total idiots.” He murmured, walking silently to his room.

Spinkick and Flytrap looked at eachother. Flytrap cupped Spinkick’s teary eyed, red face…She wipes a tear away with her thumb. “Let’s go somewhere, okay…?” She whispers.

“I wanna tell her…”

…

“Okay.” Flytrap answered.

On the other hand, Amaryllis was enraged…He hinted a clue to where the next heist would be.

The next heist, Carmen appeared to the meeting place...It was a dark, and lightless place…that was until a green electric spark lit the darkness…a crackle rod.

“You…” Amaryllis growled lowly, looking at Carmen with his angriest eyes. “You took them away from me…”

“Let me guess. You’re not here to steal? You’re getting real predictable nowadays…” Carmen smirked.

“Oh? Then if I’m so predictable you should already be prepared…BECAUSE IM GONNA KILL YOU!”

Amaryllis charged towards Carmen, but Carmen stood still.

“I AM prepared.”

Suddenly, Spinkick and Flytrap jumped right in front of Carmen, stopping Amaryllis in his tracks.

“You…You two…betrayed me…” Amaryllis whimpered, his hands shaking a little. He felt his heart sink, and the lump in his throat reform.

“W—Well then…that just means I have nothing left to lose..”

He stammered, powering up the crackle rod to it’s highest, directing it right in front of them..all he had to do was shoot…

The two were scared, Amaryllis could strike any moment now, and they wouldn’t know how to dodge.

…

….

No strike yet?…

Tears formed in Amaryllis’s eyes…his hands kept shaking, he couldn’t, he just couldn’t do it…Not to them. Why couldn’t he do it?…

The crackle rod slips out of his hands, as tears streamed down his face..

What should he do now?…he felt so much. Embarrassed, betrayed, afraid, sad, angry…he just feels…

frozen.

#carmen sandiego #carmen sandiego amaryllis #carmen sandiego 2019 #amaryllis #carmen sandiego oc #spinkick #flytrap #carmen sandiego vile #carmen sandiego spinkick #carmen sandiego fanfic #angst fanfic #angsty #angst

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itsdanii · 3 years

Note

Ahhh, your rejecting and regretting series is so good, my heart 🥺❤️ Can you do another one but with kuroo and kenma? You can ignore this request if you don’t wanna do it, I love your writing style and your blog! Stay safe and have a good day! 💞💞

Hey, bub! Thank you so much for the kind words, I appreciate it ♥️ I hope you don't mind me doing this only for Kenma. I got carried away so it got quite longer than I intended 🤦‍♀️ Anyway, here's your request! I hope you like it ♥️ Have a good day, stay safe and hydrated! Mwah!

a/n: read the note on the last part.

Rejecting and Regretting 6

genre: angst to fluff

warning/s: cursing, do message me if i missed any

a/n: please do read the warnings before you proceed. warnings have been put there for a reason.

ft. timeskip!kenma kozume

title says it all

Masterlist | Updates

Kenma Kozume

When you moved in to your apartment, you never expected your neighbor to be THE Kenma Kozume

If truth be told, you've been a fan of his ever since he started streaming

You knew that he didn't know you nor would he pay attention to you so you did not bother telling him that you were a big fan - the first one to always comment when he starts streaming

Not only did you think that it may make him uncomfortable but also make him feel like you were only trying to befriend him for his reputation

One night, as you were coming back from a short trip to the grocery store, you were walking with your earphones in and nose pointed on the screen while rewatching one of his videos

What you didn't know was that Kenma was walking behind you and was actually staring as you smiled and giggled while watching

You almost squealed when a hand came on your shoulder, almost punching the person behind you

Oddly, that was the starting point of your friendship

Although Kenma was hesitant at first (duh, you almost punched him) , he slowly eased when he felt that you were genuine

You basically went from neighbors to roommates because of how often you went to his unit, just playing random games and having occasional sleepovers

It wasn't long then when you realized that your "fangirling" towards the streamer developed into something more

You realized that you were no longer looking at him as the Kodzuken of the gaming world but just Kenma Kozume

You knew that you were fucked and thus you tried hiding it, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't

So you came up with a solution - confess. You decided that you would take the leap, confess, and hope that everything would turn out well, not knowing that it was only one sided

You shifted from one foot to another as you waited for Kenma to open the door of his unit.

Earlier, you both planned another sleepover and you took the initiative to cook dinner for the two of you instead of ordering another takeout.

As you waited, you could feel your stomach grumbling as the scent of the freshly baked sushi wafted in the air.

To be honest, you weren't really a good cook but you taught yourself how to with the help of youtube and cookbooks. You weren't even planning on learning how to do it but you were getting bored of takeouts, plus, you also wanted to impress Kenma even for a bit.

When the door finally opened, you smiled widely at Kenma while showing the food you made.

"Told you to not bother knocking and just make your way inside," he muttered before taking the pan from you and letting you in.

"Unlike you, I have my manners, Kozume," you playfully said as you plopped yourself on the couch head first.

Hearing him mumbling something under his breath as he arranged the table, you propped your elbow on the couch to watch him with a small pout playing on your lips. Your eyes followed his every movement and you couldn't help but question how someone could look so perfect.

His hair was a mess in a half bun and he was wearing nothing fancy, just his old sweatpants and a hoodie. Despite that, he still managed to look like a model, specifically those who preferred the "woke up like this" look.

"Y/n, are you going to eat or not?"

You blinked your eyes when you noticed the frown plastered on Kenma's face. Immediately, you stood up and walked over to the table with a small blush on your cheeks after being caught daydreaming.

"Sorry," you said sheepishly.

Kenma's apartment was then filled with the sounds of utensils clanking and small conversations the two of you were sharing.

Even though it seemed like Kenma wasn't paying attention, you knew that he was listening. You were aware of how much he preferred listening and observing more than talking anyway. It's just that you wished that he would talk more around you.

Somewhere in your conversation, you tried hinting your feelings towards him. In fact, you think that it was pretty obvious, but it seemed like Kenma didn't notice - that or he was purposely avoiding to indulge you.

"Getting in a relationship with a fan isn't boring you know? It actually sounds exciting, to be honest."

At that, Kenma heaved a sigh which instinctively made you shut up.

His eyes were already casted on the food infront of him instead of you, eyebrows furrowed as if he was suddenly put in a bad mood. "I dont... really like this topic," Kenma said with a dismissive tone.

You felt your heart drop upon hearing that.

You've already practiced your confession several times and there was no way you'd let such words discourage you that easily. All you knew was that you had to get it out of your chest - now or never.

You placed your utensils down and looked at him straight in the eye despite him trying to avoid your gaze. "Why not, Kozume?" you asked, trying to push him to talk.

"I just don't see the point. Why would you want to date your fan? That's... weird," he simply answered, "What if they don't really like you? There's a high chance that a fan would date their idols because of popularity and fame. It's nothing but a self satisfaction."

"Hmm... I guess you do have a point," you said with a nod.

Placing your elbow on top of the table, chin resting on your palm, you pointed at yourself with your free hand which made Kenma look at you with one eyebrow raised. "Then what if it's me who wants to date you? Im a fan of yours, after all. Would you also reject me?" you asked hopefully.

Without wasting any second, Kenma answered, "Of course. Why would I date you?"

You didn't know how to react upon hearing that. You wanted to believe that he was trying to tease you but there weren't any signs of that from the tone of his voice. Moreover, he had nothing but a serious expression on his face.

"Because I like you," you answered with a low voice.

That simple phrase caused the silence to enevelope the two of you. The anticipation made your hands feel clammy to the point that you had to let go of your utensils to grip the sweatpants your were wearing.

Silently, you stared at each other as if waiting for the other person to break the silence - until Kenma did.

"Well, I don't." Standing up, Kenma took his plate and placed it on the sink, his back turned against you as he continued, "I think I'm going to stream for a bit. Make yourself comfortable."

You stared at Kenma as he made his way to his room wordlessly. "Make myself comfortable? Just who the fuck would say that after rejecting someone?" you muttered under your breath.

Knowing that it would be pointless to distract him while streaming, you started to clean the table and proceeded on washing the plates. As you were doing so, you whispered a curse when a tear suddenly slid down your cheeks.

You weren't supposed to cry. You prepared for this so you should've been able to take the rejection properly, right? He was Kenma Kozume after all. Although you became close with each other, it seemed as if he was really beyond your reach.

And now you ruined the only thing keeping you close to him - your friendship.

You decided to leave his unit after that. You felt that proceeding with the sleepover would only put a tense atmosphere between the two of you. Moreover, he did shut you out, right? Though he told you to make yourself comfortable, the way he acted said otherwise.

Maybe he only said it not to hurt your feelings.

"As if he hadn't already," you murmured, shutting and locking the door behind you.

In hopes of cheering yourself up, you decided to take a warm shower and pamper yourself to he point that skincare products basically littered your vanity when you finished and don't forget the fact that you ended up smelling like a strawberry because of your bodywash.

By the time you went to bed, you were feeling a little better... or were you?

As you laid on your bed, staring at the wall beside you while hugging a pillow close to your chest, your mind suddenly went back to what happened awhile ago.

You thought of how dismissive he seemed towards you. He wasn't always like that. Kenma had always been enthusiastic when you're around. Sometimes you would even end up watching beside him as he streams.

What changed?

Groaning, you buried your face on your pillow when you felt yourself tearing up once again. "Tomorrow will be better," you mumbled against the soft material as you slowly allowed yourself to fall asleep.

It didn't.

In fact, it got worse.

Not only was Kenma avoiding you, he was also acting as if he didn't know you - as if you didn't exist.

Earlier this morning when you were taking the trash out, you waved at him in hopes of lightening up the mood, but instead of usually greeting you, Kenma didn't even spare you a glance. He basically walked pass you without saying anything.

At first, you thought that maybe he didn't see you. Maybe his mind was elsewhere while walking. That could be possible right?

But when it continued for several more days, you realized that he was indeed avoiding you.

You felt a mixture of pain and anger. You were supposed to be the one avoiding him since it was him who rejected you but why was it the other way around? He could've atleast talked to you, let alone smile. Did he not value even just your friendship?

As the days went on, you were slowly getting tired of being the only one to put effort on rekindling your relationship. It was exhausting to keep on chasing over someone who didn't even acknowledged you.

Maybe you were just a bother to him after all.

So despite your will to keep on getting his attention, you decided to stop. If he didn't want you then so be it. You already confessed and did your best to show him that you're genuine. That's all that matters.

Kenma stared at your door beside his intensely, hand mid-air to turn the knob of his own unit.

It had been two weeks since he last saw you and for the third time of the day, he was yet again met with nothing but silence when he tried knocking on your door.

Where were you?

He knew that how he acted towards you was unreasonable but he didn't expected himself to wake up feeling like shit everyday without seeing you. He did this. He pushed you away. He said he didn't like you, right?

Groaning frustratedly, Kenma entered his unit, heading straight to his streaming room to cool off his head. If he couldn't see you personally, then perhaps he could at least see your name on his viewers.

He knew you always watched his stream and how you would always be the first to comment. Sometimes, you would even donate a huge amount of cash as a tip even though you always complained about being broke.

"They're not watching?" Kenma said unconsciously as he noticed how your name wasn't on the list.

That instantly caused a ruckus in his stream's comment section. Several fans kept on asking who Kodzuken was referring to and some even got the right answer since he streamed with you several times already.

But instead of saying anything, Kenma stayed silent. He focused on his game, occasionally shifting his eyes to the comment section and interacting with his fans.

His eyes, however, caught one comment. It was a link with the caption "Isn't this y/n?". Out of curiosity, Kenma decided to check it, finding out that you were indeed the person in the video.

No, it wasn't a video. It was a live stream of someone like him - a player.

And there you were, seated beside the unfamiliar person with a fluffy blanket wrapped around your body and your your head resting on their shoulder.

Who was that and why did you look too comfy?

"Sorry, guys. I'll have to end the stream now. Something important came up," Kenma said with a small wave before ending his stream.

Stalking the other streamer's socials, Kenma frowned upon noticing several pictures of you attached in their instagram. They were even posted just a few days ago which meant that you must've been spending time with them throughout the days you weren't at home.

Something stirred inside Kenma. It was an unpleasant feeling blooming inside his chest, clawing at him and making him realize one important thing.

He was in love with you.

And it was only confirmed when he remembered how nervous he was when you confessed, how scared he was when he heard the door shutting after he rejected you, and how stupid he was for only realizing it now.

"Shit," he whispered to himself as he quickly tapped on his phone, his finger hovering over your number, debating wether or not should he dial.

Suddenly, he shifted his gaze on the monitor of his pc which was still displaying the unfamiliar streamer when he noticed how you snuggled closer to their side.

Muttering anther curse, Kenma clicked on your number, his eyes focused on the montior of his laptop as he watched you picking up your phone.

"Please pick up," he pleaded when he noticed the frown on your face.

It took him a full 5 minutes and several dials to finally make you give in. He watched as you whispered something on the person beside you before making your way out of the room.

On cue, your voice suddenly met his ear.

"Kozume?"

It was still as soft as he could remember and with the fact that he finally admitted his feelings, his cheeks burned when he felt his heart racing.

Say it. Say it.

Say you like her.

"I-" pausing for a moment to rethink his words, Kenma sighed deeply before answering, "I'm sorry for being mean."

Fuck.

He was met with silence from the other side and for a moment, he got scared that you dropped the call.

It was until he heard some rustling sound that he realized you were still there and was purposely trying to stay quiet.

"Can we talk about this in person?" you said with a tiny voice.

Out of panic, Kenma nodded, forgetting that he was ralking to you over the phone and not in person. Mentally smacking himself, he answered, "Yes. I'd prefer that."

And I'd prefer if you're here instead of that caveman's room.

"Then, I'll be there in 20."

The moment Kenma heard someone knocking, he was quick to open the door.

His lips basically parted at the sight of you. It was only two weeks and yet why did it felt like he hadn't seen you in a month?

"Kozu-"

"I'm sorry," he cut you off, arms wrapping around you as soon as you stepped inside his apartment.

He felt how your body became stiff in his hold and without wasting any chance, he poured everything out. "I'm sorry for how I acted towards you. I treated you as if you were the last person I wanted to be with and when I didn't see you for several days, I realized how much I hurt your feelings." He took a deep breath, eyes focusing on you as he gripped your shoulders slightly. "Forgive me? I promise that I'll make it up to you."

Kenma hoped that you could notice the genuineness in his voice. He wasn't the type of person to talk too much but for you, he'd do it if it means having you forgive him and give him another chance.

"It's... alright, Kozume," you answered with a small smile.

"It's alright?" Kenma asked slowly. He knew that he should be happy that you forgave him easily but the way you said it made it seem like you were only forcing yourself.

It's like you didn't mean it.

"W-what do you mean it's alright?" he repeated.

"It means exactly what it means. I don't really see the point of holding a grudge against you, you know? You rejected me and I accepted it." Shrugging your shoulders, you walked pass him and went to sit on the couch. "I guess I just got too ahead of myself. I mean, you're Kenma Kozume, the Kodzuken of the gaming world. It would be impossible for you to like me, right? Sorry if I made you uncomfortable with my confession."

Kenma swallowed the lump forming inside his throat, eyes darting away from your figure as he shook his head no. "No... That's not true."

"What do yo-"

"I like you. How could you ever think that low of yourself?" he said, finally looking at you before he walking towards your direction. "It's not Kodzuken to you, y/n. Kozume - just Kozume. I don't want you to think that I'm someone all high and mighty just because people acknowledge me. I don't care about that. I want you. I want you to look at me the same way you did before. I want you to keep on clinging to me and to keep on cooking for me despite not knowing how to. I want you to like me again. I just want you.."

You felt your eyes well up with tears. After a long time of pining over someone you thought you wouldn't be able to reach, it was finally here - the moment you finally manage to hear the words you've longed to hear from him.

"D-do you mean that?" you asked with a small sob, your hand covering your face as you felt yourself being lifted and placed on Kenma's lap. "What if you're only saying that to make me feel better?"

"Of course I mean it. I was too stupid being scared of acknowledging my feelings towards you that I ended up rejecting you. I'm sorry." Gently, Kenma rubbed your back as he kept you in his arms, words of apologies continue slipping past his lips as he waited for you to stop crying.

"If I told you I still like you, would you promise not to treat me like shit again?" you asked while wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. "You were really mean to me, Kozu."

"I'd promise," Kenma answered with a nod.

Looking at him, you sniffled one more time. "Then I still like you," you said without taking your eyes off him.

You didn't fail to notice how Kenma's cheeks turned a lighter shade of red and the thought of how he got more flustered by your second confession than the fact that you were seated on his lap made you smile a little.

"Oh," Kenma uttered, as if suddenly not knowing how to react.

"You're supoosed to kiss me like those cliche movies," you said while encircling your arms around his neck.

Kenma's blushed even deeper after hearing that. Gulping, he gave a stiff nod before leaning in and finally planting his lips on yours.

His lips were soft against yours. Despite how tense he was at the beginning, he slowly managed to relax, fingers interlocking with your hair as he kept on moving his lips in synch with yours, both of your eyes closed as you savored the moment.

You felt yourself smiling in your kiss as you realized something - no longer were you just a fan but his s/o.

If you're reading this, hello.

I've decided that this will be the last part of the rejecting and regretting series. Though I had a lot of fun writing these, I'm no longer satisfied with how I'm writing them. The scenes were slowly becoming repetitive as well as the words. I'm craving for something new- something fresh that I've yet to explore. It was quite overwhelming how much people loved this series and I'm very thankful for that so I feel a little bad that this would be the last one. Don't worry, I still have some stuff brewing up that I hope you'd all enjoy.

Thank you so much for the love, support, and most importantly, for reading the series up until this last one. ♥️

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bokuroskitten · 3 years

Note

your piece about oral fixation was just 🤤 so now im super curious as to what kinda of gags you think the haikyuu captains + iwa would use on their partners.

oh anon, truly I'm grateful for this one. Because as a rope bunny, I think about it constantly. I didn't do every single haikyuu captain, just ones I feel I know the best. Enjoy the filth. ❦

ℌℭ❦

〈what kind of gags would the haikyuu captains (Bokuto, Terushima, Ushijima, Oikawa, Daichi, Kuroo, Kita) + Iwa enjoy using on their partner.

⋆genre: 18+ NSFW (Minors DNI)

⋆warnings: BDSM themes (use of bondage and gags), dom/sub dynamics (daddy & master title used), oral (female receiving), spit, degradation & dumbification

Bokuto couldn’t be bothered with gags. He likes to hear you falling apart on his cock, the whimpers, the cries, the begging. It’s all music to Bokuto’s ears. Although if you do want to be gagged Bokuto just uses his thick fingers down your throat or slaps his palm across your lips. Both methods effectively render you silent and he still gets the joy of feeling your moans vibrating along his skin.

“You’re so fucking loud, Birdy. The whole neighbourhood is gonna know you’re a desperate little cock whore. Isn’t that right baby Bird?” Bokuto’s voice was nothing but a growl up against your ear, his heavy balls still slapping ruthlessly against your ass as he plunged himself faster into your tight cunt. He went in at the perfect angel this time, his cock head pressing to that sweet spot that would have you screaming. Before the sound could slip out Bokuto pushed three fingers into your mouth, grinning as he watched drool bubble between his knuckles, your cries getting muffled into his skin.

“Yeaaa, suck away baby and take what’s given to you.”

⋆⋆⋆

Terushima is a horny one, typically just wants to get the job done quickly and easily, so he likes to use what’s around. This typically means he’s using his tie. He usually wears one to his job, or sometimes finds himself keeping a spare in his back pocket when you’re being extra annoying. He always ties a knot in the middle first, pressing it between your teeth before knotting the material behind your head. It’s effective enough to keep you muffled but simple enough that he can still see your lips tremble, watch drool darken the fabric and dribble down your chin.

“Careful princess, you want the boys to know I’m stuffing you full of cock?” He spoke through a wicked grin, his lips pressed to your pulse as his hands held your hips in a death grip. The subtle slap of your ass into his pelvis kept him on beat, along with the muffled cries you let out into his tie. One of his hands slithered up your bent form, making sure to squeeze one of your breasts on the way up before taking hold of your jaw. His long fingers brushed over your chin, the drool already gathering there making him pick up his pace. He pressed the knot he made in his tie further between your teeth, making you whimper a plea that had him chuckling.

“Messy fuckin thing, by the time I fill you up there’s gonna be a mess on your face and between your thighs.”

⋆⋆⋆

Ushijima is a simple man with simple desires. Despite that, he actually enjoys using a gag on you because it gives him even more power over you than you already give him. He typically won’t use one unless other BDSM elements are in play (his favourite is ropes because he likes to make intricate patterns over your skin) but his favourite type to use is a deep throat gag. In every sense of the word, Ushi is big and wants to make sure your tight little throat is ready to be used when he wants it to use it. There’s a couple of different sizes he uses that he has you build up with, but each one comes with a reward when you’re able to swallow it down without gagging.

Although his face was usually calm during sessions today was an exception as he worked the length of the gag between your lips. “Baby, tap out if you need to—“ But you just furrowed your brows at him, fists tightening in determination which were currently bound above your head. It was a sign for him to keep going, so he did. He pushed the slick silicon between your lips until the hilt rested against your lips. He didn’t do up the leather strap just yet, waited to see if you’d gag or choke with such a big size being shoved down your throat. But there you were, sitting pretty with tears riming your lashes, the gag pressing snuggly down on your tongue. Ushijima hummed out, pleased with such progress as he was slow to buckle up the leather strap. He pressed kisses along your jaw, a small smile creeping its way onto his lips.

“I’m so proud of you, little one.”

⋆⋆⋆

Oikawa will only use ring gags because it keeps your mouth wide open and ready to use whenever he feels he needs it. Plus it allows for him to still be able to hear you when you moan and cry for him. He also loves the mess you make with a ring gag, helpless to the drool and bubbling spit that falls from your chin. Sometimes as a form of punishment he’ll leave you between his thighs, arms bound and a ring gag held snuggly between your lips. He’ll stroke his cock lazily while watching tv, only grabbing a fist full of your hair to shove that sloppy mouth of yours onto his cock when he feels the need.

The whines you let out are ignored completely by Oikawa, a little huff leaving his lips as his eyes slowly slip from the screen down to between his legs. There you sat, eyes wide and mascara streak marks down your cheeks. Your body was already trembling, sitting on your hunches for whenever Oikawa decided to take hold of your hair once more. He could see the way your tongue tried to pick up some of the drool that fell from the ring, only making matters worse as a new little stream of spit fell off your chin to continue to dampen your tank top. Oikawa just couldn’t help himself, and in one swift motion, his hips were pressing his cock back between the ring, burying deep within your throat that had it constricting. He hissed softly before a small flutter of laughter escaped him.

“Fuck, at least this fucking throat is good for something. Maybe I should keep this ring on all the time so you’ll always be ready for my dick? You like the sound of that baby?” He was only met by muffled whines and gags as he bobbed your head along this length.

⋆⋆⋆

Daichi hates when you talk back to him, it makes him so tense because all he does is treat you like his perfect little princess. So when you do get mouthy he has no problem getting you worked up whenever you are. He’ll tease, whisper into your ear about how naughty your being, grab handfuls of your ass until you make a mess of your panties. He’ll then shove the filthy material between your lips. Not only will get to humiliate you then, but he’ll also get to punish you properly without having to hear a single peep from you.

“You think good little girls talk back to their daddy’s like you do? No. They listen, and they behave. Since you wanna use such a filthy mouth I’ll keep it filthy for you.” Your previous cries were brought down to muffles as Daichi forced your damp panties between your lips. Balled up and soaked from your precious arousal you can’t even help but let your eyes flutter, the taste of your own desire making your cheeks burn bright pink. Daichi has to scoff, fingers pressing into your cheeks as giving your jaw a little shake. “Taste that? That’s your filthy little cum stains. Imagine staining your own panties from a few promises of punishment?” His cock was heavy as he quickly freed it from his boxers, making you Yelp softly as it slapped down against your already soaked slit. He rubbed it along you a few moments, pressing into your cheeks harder to keep your panties in place.

“Maybe if I just fuck you stupid, you’ll stop talking altogether?”

⋆⋆⋆

Kuroo likes to keep with the classics, and there’s nothing more classic than a ball gag. He started off with wiffleball first, wanting you to feel nothing but comfortable before he moved on to solid silicon, balls that would leave your jaw aching after sessions. He loved the way you looked, sitting on your knees for him on the bed with a bright red ball gag wedged in your mouth, already covered in spit. He would the type to put on you whenever you felt like it just so he could coo about how pretty you looked. He also took many many pictures of your mouth stuffed, keeping a secret folder just for it.

“Stay still kitten,” Kuroo mumbled close to your ear, pressing a couple playful kisses to your lobe as he secured the black leather behind your head. He slipped two fingers into the band, making sure it was loose enough to pull off if needed but tighten to hold. Once he was pleased he pulled away, the most satisfying groan leaving his lips as yours were stretched around the bright red. “Perfect, my perfect fucking kitten...” he spoke, his thumb pressing along the ball as you blinked up at him with wide, needy eyes. Your hands stay still on your lap exactly where he instructed them, a little whine coming out muffled only when Kuroo pulled away from you fully. He rose a brow at that, the flash of disappointment in his gaze enough to have you resting back down on your hunches.

“Ah, I said stay still, Kitty. I’ll play with you soon I promise. But Daddy needs a few pictures of his beautiful baby before we can get started. So keep sitting pretty for me.”

⋆⋆⋆

Kita only uses any form of BDSM with you because you’re interested in it. When you brought it up to him he was very much unaware but did as much research as possible. He decides to start off with a bite gag because, unlike ball gags, it allows for more relaxation of the jaw, as well as causes less mess in terms of drool. Plus he’s always enjoyed watching you bite down on the sheets when you're feeling a lot of pleasure, so the bite gag allows for him to watch your teeth sink on so perfectly into the rubber.

Kita’s thrusts slowed almost too much for you, your pussy desperately fluttering around his length to bring back that friction. You wanted to beg him to keep going, pick the pace back up but all you could do was let out muffled cries, press your teeth further into the bite forced between your lips. Kita watched it all, the way your face twisted up with need, the way your back arched, the way your hips jutted forwards in hopes to feel more of him. He just let out a soft little groan, planting a firm palm on your hip to keep you in place as he continued his slow, dragged out thrusts into your throbbing cunt.

“Just a little longer like this, kay Darlin? I love seeing you bite into that gag, we’re gonna have to use it more often.”

⋆⋆⋆

Iwaizumi was used to using his hand, slapping it over your lips when he found you were getting too loud. But he never knew what to do with all your squirming. Cuffs were too simple and ropes just weren’t his vibe, but when he discovered bondage tape it was a whole other ball game. Not only was it perfect because it only stuck to itself, resulting in safer play, but it was very much effective in shutting you up when he needed you quiet. His favourite part is watching you flinch when he rips a piece away from the roll, the way you shiver in anticipation as he hovers the piece over your lips. It only when you're about to whine at him that he presses it against your lips, a grin curling on his lips.

“Fuck Princess, you’re tighter than usual? Excited?” Iwaizumi murmured, his grin growing as he watched your eyes roll up in pleasure. He brought a large palm up to your cheek, bringing your blurry vision back to his own. His thrusts slowed, allowing his thick cock to drag along that throbbing spot within you. That had your back arching, muffled little pleas melting into the tape that was held firm over your lips. Iwaizumi sighed softly, his thumb rubbing over the tape to feel out the outline of your pretty lips. The action had you nuzzling into his palm, another string of muffled nonsense trying to escape the tape and failing miserably.

“I know you’re begging me to move faster under here... but remember princess, Master makes the rules. So let’s keep you quiet and I’m gonna fuck you nice and slow.”

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worldserasingandcreatinginmymind · 3 years

Text

Disappointment | Ivan x Daughter!Reader

Requested by @theweasleytwinsownmyjuicyass: “so I’m really a sucker for parent tropes so maybe you could write a Ivan x daughter!reader where he had her with a non grisha woman who gave birth and later left the baby at the little palace for him. Now she is grow and Ivan being Ivan is hard on her especially because she’s kind of failing being a heartrender (cuz that’s not her real grisha power) and they have a huge fight about it and she runs away in the middle of the night. When Ivan find out in the morning he becomes very worried and asks The darkling and Fedyor to help him find her. (Maybe they find her a bit hurt cuz she was attacked. Just for more angst and feels:3)”

Pairing: Ivan x Daughter!Reader, Fedyor x reader (platonic)

Word Count: 1900

Warnings: angst, mentions of blood

A/N: As always, spelling and grammar are not my strongest skills so please be kind :)

Masterlist

- - - - -

“Ivan!” Fedyor calls as he runs down the corridor carrying a medium size wicker basket “Ivan, someone left this outside the doors of the little palace”

“Oh?” Ivan says, uninterested as he continues walking.

“The note left with it says its for you.”

Ivan stops walking and abruptly turns around to finally face Fedyor who hold out the basket to him. He takes it and slowly lifts the lid, freezing when he lays eyes on what’s inside.

“What is it? What’s in there?” Fedyor asks curiously but gets no reply “Ivan?”

He moves to stand by Ivan’s side, peering over to see the baby girl wrapped up tight inside, fast asleep without a care in the world.

“I don't understand, why would someone give you a baby?” Fedyor asks.

“Because she’s my daughter.”

— — — —

Seventeen years later.

Growing up in the Little Palace wasn’t exactly a normal childhood, especially being the daughter of one of the Darkling’s most favoured Grisha. You never really felt like you fit in with the other kids, especially since your father made you learn with Heartrender children even though you were actually a healer. He was convinced you would share the same power as him and because you wanted to please him you went along with it.

It was hard growing up without a mother too. Your father was always honest with you, about how he had spent the night with a non Grisha woman and hadn’t even known she was pregnant until one night you were left on the doorstep. Part of you wished you could meet your mother, but the other part of you didn’t care about a woman who could so easily abandon you.

You were close with your father’s lover, Fedyor. He became the closest thing you had to a mother figure. He was softer and more caring than your father. When you were younger he would occasionally sneak you away for fun days out playing games in the woods. Even now he would take you out on horse riding lessons when he felt you needed a break.

Ivan did not approve.

“She’s my daughter and I say she must attend all her training sessions!”

“You're too hard on her Ivan, the poor girl is exhausted from all the pressure you put on her. Give her a break” Fedyor argues back as you press your ear to their door so you can hear.

“I’ll give her a break when she earns one. Right now she’s the worst in the whole class of heartrenders. Even the children are better than her”

“Maybe because I’m not actually a Heartrender!” You say as you burst through the door.

“This is a private conversation!” Ivan shouts.

“Not if it’s about me it’s not.” You shout back

“Y/N” Fedyor speaks calmly, trying to defuse the situation “maybe you should go-”

“No Fedyor, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t live like this” you turn and address your father “All I’ve ever done, all I ever do is try and live up to your expectations. Try to be like you. Hide my true self because I’m terrified of disappointing you. But I can’t lie anymore. I’m not a Heartrender. And no matter how much you or I try to force it, I will never be a Heartrender.”

You take off your red and black kefta and hand it to your father. There’s a silence as he looks down at it before finally looking up at you.

“You're just going to give up on everything we’ve worked for, everything you’ve wanted?”

“I never wanted any of this Dad. You did! I just went a long with it to please you”

“Get out of my sight!”

“Dad-”

“I have never been more disappointed in you than I am right now. I am ashamed to call you my daughter”

“Ivan!” Fedyor speaks up as you stand there silent for a moment, staring at your father.

Fedyor comes to your side, placing a hand on your shoulder but you shake him off and run out the room as hot tears fill your eyes. You hear Fedyor call after you but you ignore him, continuing to run out of the Little Palace. You don't stop running until you reach the woods, leaning against a tree and sliding your back against the rough bark to sit on the ground. You bring your knees up to your chest and let the tears flow, unaware of the stranger watching you in the darkness.

You're disturbed by the sound of a twig snapping behind you. You lift your head up and take a deep breath, silently listening. Slowly you stand up, keeping your back to the tree as you look around you. Then you spot him, an unknown man creeping toward you. From his clothes you guess he’s a peasant from the village.

“Are you alright?” He asks. Something about him sets your nerves on edge.

“Yes I’m fine” you say quietly, wiping a tear off your cheek

“Are you from the palace?” He asks, taking a step closer. You nod. “What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?”

“I could ask you the same thing” you reply

“It’s not safe to be out here alone you know” he takes another step closer “never now who you might meet”

“You're right, I should head back” you go to leave but he grabs your arm, pulling you back “let go of me!”

“Not until you give me something in return” he pulls a dagger from his pocket

“What do you want from me?” You struggle against him but his grip is tight

“Whatever you’ve got. Money. Jewellery. Anything that’s worth something. You lot up in your fancy palace have no idea how hard it is to be poor”

“I’m sorry but I don't have anything”

“Then you're no use to me!” He growls, plunging his dagger into your side. You let out a silent gasp. He pulls the dagger back out and you drop to the ground, clutching the wound, feeling the heat of the blood cover your hands.

“Grisha bitch” he spits before running away, disappearing into the darkness. You try to drag yourself back toward the palace but you don't have the energy. You prop yourself up against the base of a tree and wait for the darkness to take you.

— — — —

“Fedyor wake up!” Ivan rushes into their room, opening the curtains to let the morning sun stream through “Y/N is missing!”

“What!” Fedyor sits up instantly

“I went to apologise but she isn’t in her room and her bed hasn’t been slept in. Im really worried Fed. Where is my girl?” He chokes up as tears spring to his eyes.

“Okay calm down. We’ll find her”

Ten minutes later the boys are heading out the Little Palace, searching the grounds with the help of General Kirigan.

“Do you have any idea where she could have gone?” The Darkling asks. Ivan shakes his head.

“I think I might know.” Fedyor announces

The three of the mount their horses and set off towards the woods. Once they enter they slow down as Fedyor explains this is where the two of you come to relax and get away from the Palace when things get too much. Ivan feels his heart sink, knowing that he’s the reason you even need a place to escape to.

“There!” Fedyor shouts, pointing to your lifeless body laying on the ground.

The men jump off their horses and run to your side, Ivan cradling your head in his lap and stroking your face while the Darkling checks your wound.

“Oh my saints! Y/N, my girl. Please come back to me” Ivan cries

“We need to get her back to the Palace. She needs a healer” The Darkling announces as Ivan picks you up and carries you to his horse. He rides faster than he’s ever ridden to get you there.

“We need a healer! Now!” The General shouts the second he enter the Palace, and instantly multiple healers come running. They follow him as he carries you to your room and lays you down on your bed.

Ivan and Fedyor watch anxiously as the healers get to work. What feels like hours later they finally finish, turning to address the men.

“She’s stable now.”

“Thank you, thank you so much!” Ivan lets out tears of relief as Fedyor hugs him.

“We’ll leave you three alone.” The Darkling says, ushering the healers out of the room. “I’m glad she’s okay” he smiles before leaving, shutting the door behind him.

A few hours later you're eyes finally flutter open. You look around the room confused as to how you got there. You remember the woods. The creepy stranger. Being stabbed. You sit up, lifting your shirt to see now no wound at all. Then you look over and see Fedyor and Ivan asleep at the foot of your bed. You reach over and gently squeeze your father’s hand. He opens his sleepy eyes and when he sees you awake shoots up right, quickly pulling you into a tight hug. Fedyor also wakes up and smiles at you.

“I’ll leave you two to chat” he says smiling again before leaving.

Your father sits on the edge of the bed facing you.

“Y/N. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I said last night, I didn’t mean it. I was angry with Fedyor but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you”

“It felt like you meant it”

“I could never be ashamed of you. You are a beautiful, intelligent, strong young woman. I am proud to be your father.” He takes your hand in his “And I am so sorry I made you feel like you had to be someone else just to please me. I always hoped you’d be a Heartrender like me, but I shouldn’t have put that pressure on you. From now on you are free to be the person you want to be.”

“Are you sure I’m not a disappointment?”

“You could never disappoint me Y/N. You are my daughter and I love you more than anything in the world” he moves to sit next to you and puts his arm around you. You snuggle into him.

“Even more than Fedyor?” You ask playfully

“Even more than Fedyor”

“Hey I heard that!” Fedyor shouts as he pokes his head back in the room

“We love you too Fedyor!” You shout back, gesturing for him to join you. He sits on the other side of you so you are sandwiches between the two of them. You hold his hand and rest your head on your father’s shoulder.

You may not have a mother, but you do have two fathers. And you wouldn’t change them for the world.

Your perfect little family.

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone fic #general kirigan #the darkling #Ivan x reader #ivan x fedyor #fedyor x reader #the darkling x reader #general kirigan x reader

199 notes · View notes

dr3amofagame · 3 years

Text

so... the red banquet, huh?

im not going to lie, i was cheering on the eggpire the entire time (/lh) - what can i say, something abt the demon possessed resident evil crew just speaks to my heart. theyre FUN, ok?

anyway, a lot of people were theorizing abt what c!dream showing up at the banquet could look like - and, well, i thought i’d write my version of it. this takes place in the “guard dog au” developed primarily by a gc im in on twitter (@stabbysideblog being the main originator of it, do check sunny out !!) - the basic premise is post-getting the revive book from c!dream, c!quackity continues to get his, uh, “use” out of him by basically treating him as a bodyguard/guard dog as he goes around the server - which should probably give you a pretty good idea of how this is going to go :]

tws: death, grief, implied torture, starvation, abuse, blood, murder, unhealthy relationship, dehumanization, possession, trauma, mental illness, violence, dark content, dark imagery, emotional distress, mental instability, pandora’s vault/prison arc, c!quackity critical (not really, but a very dark portrayal of him)

A strangled sob claws its way up Puffy’s throat as she watches Foolish fall.

He drops in a spray of golden ichor in the crimson, brilliant green eyes trained on hers, jaw slack in horror, pain, dipping to the ground and whiting out before he’s even fully collapsed. The others’ screams hardly even meet her ears; all she can see is her son, falling, her son, dying, her son, that same sunlit kindness still held in the curve of his lips in this room that knows nothing but pain and betrayal, gone gone gone gone-

Because of her.

Ant’s still staring at her, pupils thinned to needles from the brightness of the lava at their backs, ears alert but stance entirely calm as he twirls his sword, still dripping gold. His mouth is moving but she cannot hear anything above the ring ring ringing in her ears, the world swirling and blurring dangerously from the tears gathering in her eyes and spilling over her cheeks, Ant’s eyes polished rubies where there had once been a cloudless sky. Bad gestures at the crowd, pushed back towards the lava’s fire in their fear, leaving her to stand in the middle of the room as one desperate dying scream, the egg, standing as a silent witness to it all-

“Bad-” a flash of blue, and there’s someone standing in front of her, shoulders pulled back, a diamond sword glittering their right hand, “Stop it.”

“Quackity.”’

Bad snarls, tail whipping back and forth; Puffy takes a step back, then another, shoulders still shaking in grief for her son, for her friends, for everyone who’s about to lose their lives in this twisted realm of crimson and hellfire. There is no fear on Quackity’s face though he stands unarmored, and for the first time in this awful day something like worry flashes over Bad’s face. There’s history here, she realizes - what did Bad say about Quackity attacking? - but none of this is making sense, not the self-assured way Quackity is carrying himself, wings relaxed and folded at his back, not the simmering unease making itself known in the foreign cadence of Bad’s voice.

“Oh my gosh, look at what you’ve done,” Quackity says, voice almost patronizing, like a parent stumbling in on the mess their child has made out of their bedroom, “this is impressive, I’m not going to lie, this is quite impressive.” Puffy swallows thickly, hears the shuddering gasp of someone behind her - Fundy, probably, or Sam - as Quackity’s voice drops. “You have to stop right now.”

“Stop?”

“This whole Egg thing is just getting out of control - you just killed a man,” Quackity stalks across the netherbrick floor like he has all the time in the world, ignoring the crossbows that the Eggpire has trained on his back, guarded only by the off-white shirt he’s wearing, an untied tie hanging limply around his neck. She sucks in a sharp breath through her teeth - my son, they killed my son, she means to say, but the words stick to the walls of her throat and only escape her lungs in another series of wracking sobs. “Is that what you wanted to do, Bad?”

He laughs - laughs, of all things, and there is something here that Puffy is missing, that isn’t clicking through the muddied fog of grief hanging grey and suffocating around her head, but Quackity is speaking again and she can’t think about it all, not now, “-and I’m not gonna have it anymore, Bad.”

He slips over by the crowd, eyes glancing all of them huddled in one fearful mob over the tables, eyes dark and daring and cold; the Eggpire keeps their eyes trained on him, Bad’s eyebrows furrowed, Ant’s muzzle twisted in a snarl. Puffy watches, their words passing over her like water skidding against the surface of a rock splitting a stream in two, heart thudding in her ears, marking out the heartsick beats in this poisoned melody - one-two, her-son, her-son, her-son-

He stops in front of her in the middle of monologuing, eyes trained on her own like he’s trying to tell her something. His eyes flick down and she follows their gaze to his other hand, the one not clasped around a sword handle, watches as he gestures vaguely in the direction of the Eggpire. She frowns, confusion cutting through the grief - what is he trying to say? - and Quackity sighs, index finger slashing in the air in the shape of what might be an A as he spins on his heel to walk back towards Bad and the others.

“So how about we just stop playing?”

Quackity smiles, teeth white and glittering from the lava’s glow even as the Eggpire surrounds him, pushes him back against the wall. Bad seems to hesitate, hand clasped around the trigger of a crossbow he keeps pointed at the other’s head; when he speaks, he almost sounds mournful.

“I can’t,” he mutters, quiet, stepping forwards as his shoulders straighten, pushing Quackity back in a motion that the others are quick to follow. Puffy watches, an awful sinking feeling falling through the hole left in her chest by the sight of her son, falling, her son, dead - watches as Quackity’s wings open, shine golden in the lava’s light - what is he planning?

“You know why I can’t stop.”

Quackity heaves a heavy sigh through his lungs, “Bad- you and all your buddies here, drop your weapons, and leave. Let all of these people go.”

“Or what?” Ant’s voice is sharp, but Quackity barely pays him a second thought, swinging a glare at his head and cutting him off.

“I’m not talking to you,” he laughs, dismissive, “I’m talking to Bad.”

“No-” Puffy watches as Bad’s hand tightens on his crossbow, punctuating the word with a step forward. “You put your weapon down. If you wanted to stop us?” He’s too close to Quackity for Puffy to make out either of their faces, crossbow bolt aimed and ready to send straight through his skull. She stiffens, sees from the corner of her eye as the ones beside her look away, and resigns herself to the inevitable spray of blood on brick - not again not again don’t make me watch again - “You should’ve brought more than just yourself.”

Quackity laughs.

“I did,” his voice is dangerous in its levity, making Bad, then the rest of the Eggpire step back as his wings spread open further, watching with bated breath and wide eyes as a swarm of white descends from a hidden hole in the wall, “Or, well, I did the next best thing. I brought my worst enemy.”

“What?”

“Alright Quackity, where’s this Egg thing?”

Technoblade jumps down into the room in a familiar purple-black blur of expertly enchanted netherite armor, form impeccable despite the seeming exhaustion in his voice. At his feet, a pack of wolves gather, pace, muscles coiled and clearly ready to strike; he rolls his shoulders back, signature fireworks loaded into his crossbow, and the crowd behind Puffy immediately breaks into shocked murmuring and soft cheers.

On Quackity’s other side, someone else flips into the room, wearing a suit of all things, crisp and well-pressed; Purpled grins, entirely too gleeful as the Eggpire presses back further, held off by the dogs swarming and growling at their feet.

“Purpled- we hired you!”

“To be frank with you, Bad, a sword appears in Purpled’s hand and he flips it casually, blade thin and gleaming, “Quackity just had the better price.”

“We- we still outnumber you!” Bad’s voice is a near-scream in its desperation, his tail lashing back and forth as he shifts his weight forward, “It’s four against three- we’ll still win-” Despite herself, Puffy’s mind spins; either way, they’re still at a disadvantage from sheer numbers alone, never mind Quackity’s lack of armor. Maybe if they all work together, they’ll be able to sufficiently stop them, but there’s no way she can see this ending in anything less than a bloodbath-

“I didn’t want for it to come to this, Bad,” Quackity’s voice drops low and sweet, the sincerity in his tone belied by his glittering eyes and jagged grin. The shift in tone sends a shiver down her back, has even his allies shifting uncomfortably in what seems to be confusion - Puffy catches something like a murmured no from Sam, behind her, before Quackity whistles, loud.

It all happens too fast for her to follow; one moment, the Eggpire is standing, weapons raised and ready to fight; the next, and there is a new netherite-clad figure in the middle of the room, signature sparks of purple from a pearl still glittering around them, axe buried into Antfrost’s chest. The room devolves into shrieks as his body dissolves, Bad gasping sharply and something dark bubbling in Puffy’s chest - good - as the newcomer in the room moves over to Ponk, bloodstained axe swinging in a downward arc, only barely stopped in time by a diamond sword catching on the crook of the blade.

“Go!” Quackity’s voice rings out above the chaos, and Techno and Purpled - seemingly shaken from their shock - fly into motion, fireworks bursting in flashes of red and black that send Puffy blinking out stars from her eyes, Purpled moving to match blows against Hannah and Techno’s army biting at the ankles of the Eggpire leader. Around her, people scream in relief, cheering as the Eggpire, clad in eggshell-blue, are pushed back one by one, hindered by a shifting wave of teeth and claws and clashing blades and netherite moving smoothly over the uneven floor - Bad screams, “RETREAT!”, and they disappear into the wall.

Purpled curses; “I’m going after them.” Puffy watches, still reeling, as he dives into the corridor that Bad had revealed, a flash of purple and blue melting into the shadows; the mystery figure - still hauling a heavy, bloodstained axe, nearly dragging against the floor - moves forward as to follow.

Quackity snaps his fingers, and the figure stops, turns, immediately moving to the winged man’s side. Behind her, Puffy can make out cheers, gasping, hysterical sounds of relief; she can’t join them, feels nothing but the shuddering weight of her grief pressing further on her lungs as the adrenaline fades, head dizzy with Foolish’ sharp gasp in pain, Ant’s yowl of agony. Her eyes flick to the side, catch on Sam pacing, muttering under his breath; when his eyes meet hers, they widen in something like - alarm?

She shakes her head; she can’t think about all of that, right now. Her hooves stumble over the vines and rot strewn over the floor, carrying her forward to the glitter of gold on red, to where her son had fallen and she could do no more but watch with a scream caught between her teeth.

A hand lands on her shoulder- “I’m sorry we couldn’t make it in time.”

She whirls around; Quackity’s looking down at her, face twisted in sympathy. Behind him, the armored stranger looms, hair long and tangled, helmet keeping their face in shadow and hiding their features from view. There’s something distantly familiar to them, in the way they shift from one foot to the other, something that makes her eyes narrow and throat tighten-

“Who are you?” The words tumble from her mouth, making Quackity freeze, jaw snapping shut, the figure behind him tensing almost imperceptibly under their armor. “Who-”

Quackity’s eyes are dark, piercing; she can’t read them, the flat line of his mouth as confusing as it is frustrating. His eyes flick up to somewhere over her shoulder before moving back to her own

“How rude of me,” He smiles, gold tooth glinting, “I didn’t even introduce our special guest.”

His right wing presses against their back, and they drop, immediately, to their knees, making her step back in shock. Quackity’s hand slips easily under the edge of their helmet, ripping it off with little care and letting their hair fall in a wave of dusty browns over their face; he pulls the strands back roughly, revealing the paleness to their skin, the hollows in their cheeks-

“Dream?”

Her breath shudders in her chest, eyes snapping up to Quackity, still smiling, hand still pressed against the back of his skull. Dream’s face is pale, thin, clawed with new scars that highlight the jut of his cheekbones and the dullness of his eyes. He looks up at her, eyes glassy, skin almost grey, and for a moment she’s looking at Foolish, eyes unseeing in death, the luster of his skin stolen like the air from his lungs, and she nearly screams.

“Puffy, Puffy,” Quackity murmurs, almost kind, “It’s alright, see? Everything’s fine now.”

“He- he’s supposed to be in prison,” she hisses, not missing how he flinches, not missing how even that is hindered by the hand braced against his head. He looks strangely small kneeling at Quackity’s side, dwarfed by the netherite he’s wearing; even with an axe strapped to his back, the blade still wet with crimson and reeking of iron and decay, he hardly looks like the villain that had terrorized the server, the son she could no longer recognize in the midst of the bridges he burned.

“Oh- don’t worry about him,” Quackity shrugs, wings fluttering, “It’s all being done with the Warden’s permission, Puffy, I know what I’m doing.” As if to prove his point, his hand tightens on the other’s hair, tugging his head back by the roots; Dream hardly even reacts, simply letting himself be manhandled, throat bare and exposed to the air, similarly criss-crossed by scars. “He’s perfectly well-behaved now, you see?”

Her throat closes, the pit in her gut torn open by the sight of her son with a blade skewered through his heart only growing wider, hungrier, by the dullness in the eyes of the other. Foolish’ death had happened too fast for her to react: one moment, he was staring at her, eyes mournful in goodbye; the next, he was a tumble of gold and green and blue against the floor, half of his name still not having left her lips. Dream’s head swivels to hers, face entirely blank; there is nothing quick written in the gauntness of his face, more scar tissue than skin, in the shadows under his eyes or how they seem to stare, unseeing, in the long, knotted strands of hair twisted over Quackity’s knuckles. He looks like he’s been dying, slowly, for months, and the screaming cry of YOU FAILED ringing in her head in Ant’s voice only grows louder.

“What did you-” the words scrape roughly against the inside of her mouth, “What did you do?”

Quackity shrugs, letting go, and Dream’s head tips forward to stare at the floor. “What had to be done.”

He clicks his fingers again, and Dream stands, falling behind Quackity with his shoulders pulled up to his ears. Quackity hands him back his helmet, keeping his hand stretched out, palm up, even after Dream takes the netherite and fastens it back over his head. Puffy watches, heart stuck in her throat, as Dream fiddles with something by his throat, pulls out a thick coil of iron chains, pressing the end to Quackity’s outstretched hand - the other side, she realizes, fastened around his neck.

Her breath stutters when he looks back at Quackity, gut roiling at the familiarity - it’s an imperfect copy of the way he used to look at her, a skittish shadow at her tail, all awkward smiles and fidgeting hands. Only now, his eyes don’t dance with the same light, his lungs shivering in fear instead of wheezing laughter; she watches as his head follows Quackity like he’s the only person in the room, a duckling imprinted on the nearest person and ready to follow to the ends of the world and further, and her heart shatters all over again.

“Anyway,” Quackity’s eyes soften, lips curled in sympathy, “My condolences, Puffy, for your son. It really is a tragedy.”

She watches him leave with tears in her eyes, a sob once again caught in her throat. The images overlap - Foolish, smiling under the sun’s glow, sitting on the roof of his summer home - Dream, grinning in the treetops, eyes as green as the leaves surrounding him - Foolish, falling in a spray of ichor and a gasp of pain, Dream, grey-eyed and silent, dead as the crimson rot surrounding his beaten body-

My condolences for your son, Quackity’s words echo in her skull, and not for the first time, she laughs miserably, tears falling from her eyes.

Which one?

203 notes · View notes

god1ngs · 3 years

Text

━‎ second chance

synopsis; dream offers you a deal

contains; manipulation, fighting, war, guilt tripping, death threats

prolouge + 2.1k wc

note; wow this was really long, but i hope you enjoy the prologue of seven days! also i'm changing the update schedule to every wednesday because im impatient lmao

seven days masterlist ; masterlist ; next part

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎everyone was fighting. there was no time to think as people charged into battle, screaming echoing off trees and shaking the leaves. the war went on, the violence unceasing between the dream smp and l'manberg. this was the worst possible outcome.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎you never liked war, even if you were known for starting chaos, this wasn't the type of chaos you wanted nor needed. l'manberg was still fragile, still in a new and weakened state, having not been built too long ago. war would only tear it down.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎before you joined l'manberg, you and dream were close. really close. the two of you could be seen everywhere and, without a doubt, were two of the closest people on the server. and yet the two of you had drifted apart before everyone else.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎it started when dream became more power hungry, demanding l'manberg to be tore down simply for his own tyrannical reasons. you noticed, the change in his attitude evident, yet didn't say anything. it didn't stop dream from lashing out at you and even exiling you though.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎it was too late however, even by then. you were already too entangled with dream, and he knew it.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎you hadn't spoke to dream since your exile. you stayed in the walls of l'manberg, usually only speaking to wilbur or tommy. you were more lonely. dream was, in a sense, all you had. he was the one person you talked to and the one who seemed to care about you.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎sure, you spoke to george and sapnap, but they weren't dream. dream was the one you favored, despite saying you liked them all equally. that was clear, no matter how much you insisted you didn't.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎it was even more clear when dream began speaking.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎dream, sapnap, and george stood outside the towering walls of l'manberg. they had tnt and weapons that were far greater than your own. they were intimidating, exactly as they had planned. they stopped the violence for a moment, pausing when dream raised a hand up.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"i want to speak to [name]."

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎it was as if time had stopped. you were stood behind wilbur, but the only person you could see was dream. an arm was placed in front of you, wilbur's, and he said something. but you weren't listening, too caught up in the way dream was staring at you.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎was he staring at you? you couldn't tell with his mask on.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎you came back to your senses, looking up at wilbur. you had always been one of the loud ones of l'manberg, but you stayed quiet as he talked to dream. you heard your name amongst his words, but couldn't decipher what he was saying.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎then it happened.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎within seconds everything was gone. ash scattered across the once green grass and smoke rising in the air. it happened all so quickly. you had ash in your hair and there were bits of stone and wood laying around. you all ran to the caravan, trying not to get caught in any more flying debris.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎glass crunched beneath your feet as you walked in the caravan. part of it was gone and the glass panes had been broken. it was evident how much destruction had been done by dream. so why were you still thinking about him?

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎you hadn't noticed, but your ears were ringing. you were lightheaded and there was blood on your once clean uniform. "i consider this a win." wilbur said, ever so confident. it was refreshing to see his confidence still in tact. it reminded you of dream.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎you stood beside the caravan now, the destruction of your home creating a sinking feelinf in your chest. however, it was gone once wilbur stood on top of the vehicle. he wrote the declaration of independence, the giggles from you and your comrades filling the air.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎it was a change of heart from the war that ended only minutes ago.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎afterwards, you all got patched up. wilbur had been bandaging your hand, having got shards of class from the windows of the caravan stuck in it, when he suddenly sighed. "[name]." he said firmly, looking at you. had you done something?

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"did you hear what dream said today?"

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎it was all a blur, the loud sounds of war and your own thoughts had drowned out the sound of anything else. "no? what did he say?" you asked, something arising in your chest. you couldn't tell what it was, but there was a familiar sense of giddiness. you were giddy to know what dream had said, willing to be hooked on every syllable coming from him.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎he only shook his head, wrapping your hand. "nothing. just something about how he wanted to talk to you." he answered, not noticing the way you got somewhat upset. you hummed, nodding your head before he turned to the night sky. it was late, much later than you were supposed to be up.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎everyone else had already been asleep, having been nursed hours ago, but you had only just noticed the shards of glass in your hand. you didn't know how the pain had left you unaffected, but dream had always told you how strong you were.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"you should go to bed," wilbur murmured after a moment of silence. "it's late and we have things to do tomorrow." you nodded quietly, unaware of the tired look on the mans face. you bid your goodnights, and with that, you went back to your home.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎you had been trying to go to sleep for hours. you couldn't seem to stay still enough to go to sleep. perhaps you still had energy from earlier. you sat up, frowning as you glanced out of your window. the grass, once lush and green, was now tainted with the aftermath of war.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎maybe a walk would help.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎you got a knife, a simple form of protection in case anyone tried to attack you. you walked out of your house, careful to be quiet to not wake any of the others. you hoped you were the only one having sleeping problems.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎you found yourself wandering out of the walls of l'manberg, sitting beside a lake. it was peaceful, the gentle glow of the moonlight reflecting off the water. it was silent, the crickets and the sway of the leaves being the only noise around.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎or so you thought.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎you hadn't even heard anyone come behind you. you were alone, weren't you? it appears not. "i haven't seen you in a while." his voice cut through the peaceful atmosphere, bringing dread and longing all at once.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎you turned to look back at dream, the smile mask haunting and causing you a sense of peace at the same time. your mouth ran dry, eyes wide as you looked up at him. this was the first time you two have talked in months.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎you nodded in agreement to his words, wondering if you should be scared or excited of the man. you wanted to feel nervousness, to be put off by his sudden appearance, but all that came was the relief of finally being able to talk to him.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"not talking, huh? do you even miss me?" he asked, taking a seat beside you. you panicked, frantically trying to tell him that you had missed him, but he only laughed in your face. "calm down," he teased, the grin in his voice calming you down. "you always overreact at every little thing."

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎you apologized sheepishly, embarrassment tickling you. he sighed, leaning back on his palms as he stared at the moonlight. was he relaxed? "you know, i tried to talk to you earlier. in front if l'manberg. did you not hear me?" he turned to look at you, tilting his had quizzically.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎you shook your head, rubbing at your arm. "no, i didn't. i'm sorry. it was really loud then." you explained, being comforted as he put a hand on yours. "it's alright. just make sure you listen for me next time okay?" his grip got tighter at his words, a passive aggressiveness punctuating them.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎you nodded quietly, his iron grip alleviating at your movement. silence washed over you two again, your mouth opening and closing at the words you wanted to say but didn't know how to. it changed once he pulled you closer to him.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"do you know why i exiled you, [name]?" he asked. you were confused, brows furrowing as you shook your head. "no .. why did you exile me, dream?" you asked, hesitant but willing to get the answer. he hadn't told you what he had exiled you for, having only told you he was done with you and to get out of his sight.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎his hand left yours, instead resting on your chin and tilting your head to look up at him. he was much more intimidating with the moonlight shining behind him, yet looked like an angel all the same. once more, his grip tightened on your chin. you winced, knowing there would be a mark there.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"you threatened my power. you were the one thing holding me back from doing what's necessary. exiling you was the only way i could make sure you wouldn't get in my way," dream seethed, snarling beneath his mask. he snatched your face closer to his, your eyes wide with confusion and fear. "but you're threatening my control again."

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎he let you go, you grabbing your chin out of pain and stammering at him. he reached for his sword, bringing it out of its sheath and pointing it at you. you were vulnerable, only having a knife that you couldn't possibly reach for with him keeping his eyes on you, not without risking your safety.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"killing you in the only way i can make sure you don't hold me back anymore."

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎he raised his sword, and your life flashed before your eyes. you begged. you pleaded for mercy, tears welling in your eyes and your hands covering your head. "please dream!" you sobbed, sniffling as you begged him to spare your life. "i won't get in your way anymore, i swear! i'm sorry!"

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎your life should have been over with, but he stopped. he tilted his head down at you, his sword still pointing at your chest. you whimpered, tears streaming down your face. you couldn't even feel the embarrassment of it with all the fear weighing you down.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎he weighed his options, thinking for a moment. unbeknown to you, he grinned beneath his mask. he would play with you for a little while longer. "alright." he said, amusement coating his tone. he tilted your chin up with the end of his sword, the blade nearly caressing your neck. it scared you, how easily dream would be able to kill you.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎dream almosted pitied how pathetic you were.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"i'll give you seven days. a week for you to say goodbye to everyone, and when those seven days are over, you come right here, at this time, and you get to convince me to either spare your life a second time or i kill you. understand?"

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎the joy in his voice, the raw delight, terrified you. you nodded frantically, not passing up on a chance to have your life spared. your mind was already racing with thoughts to convince him to spare your life.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"if you try to go against me in any way possible within this week, i'll kill you in front of your friends instead. do we have a deal?" he put his sword away, putting his hand out towards you. you hesitated, terrified to touch him. yet he only insisted, shakily shaking his hand.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎he snatched you towards him again, his tight grip on your hand making it ache. you swallowed with nervousness, catching a glimpse of his wide grin underneath his mask. all the more reason to be terrified of dream.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"don't disappoint me."

taglist,

━‎ ‎ ‎@paradigmax ; @pachowpachowbucket ; @acatstalkingyou ; @angelicaschuyler-church ; @saucey-kneecapzz42020 ; @piano-boo ; @i-need-hugs ; @strawbrinkofdeath ; @halloweenpoison13

#dream smp x reader #dream smp x you #dream smp x y/n #mcyt x you #mcyt x reader #dream x reader #dream imagine #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x y/n #various x reader #dream smp #mcyts #( ♡ ) + bones writes #( ♡ ) + seven days

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yuziyuanapologist · 3 years

Text

all my rage

the chengsu (jiang cheng/qin su) agenda - 1.7k - canon divergence from episode 40.

mild content warnings for canon typical discussion of qin su’s parentage + jin rusong’s death. (sometimes im a jgy apologist but not in this fic.)

[AO3 link!]

It’s late into the evening of the banquet when Qin Su appears at the door to Jiang Cheng's guest rooms, tears streaming down her face, her sobs interrupting the breaths she takes, and her hand half raised from when she had knocked.

"Jin-furen," he greets, brow furrowed with concern - her proper title not a common thing from his lips, and from the way she flinches at it, it's an address that he now regrets. "Qin Su, what's - what's wrong?"

She opens her mouth to reply, but it's drowned out by renewed tears, a hand to her chest as she gasps, other hand against the door frame to steady herself.

He falters for a second, unsure - but it's all he can do, to stand aside, and allow her entry into his rooms. He shuts the door behind her; it’s perhaps improper, but it's not something that he cares about at this moment.

“Qin Su -” he moves forward, a hand to her shoulder. “Would you - would you like to sit?” He gestures to the table, and tries to encourage her forward without pushing. He’s still - still - not good at comforting, but she needs it, so he grits his teeth and walks with her across the room.

She gives a shaky exhale as she sinks to a kneeling position. Her shoulders still tremble as she rests her forearms on the table, hands folded together, as if playing at composure. Jiang Cheng sits beside her, watching closely, carefully, desperate to give her anything that she needs, however ill-equipped he is for it.

"Jiang-Zongzhu," she whispers, her eyes shut tight, tears still escaping. "Jiang Cheng, I-" She shakes her head, once, again, again. "I can't - it's shameful, I -"

She sobs once more, and never has Jiang Cheng felt helplessness like this - or not - not now.

He puts a gentle (is it gentle? He hopes so. He lost that touch a while ago, if he ever had it) hand on her forearm, and his thumb soothes circles through her thin sleeves, a trick he learnt from - from - whatever.

"Qin Su, what can I do?"

"Nothing - oh, nothing! There is nothing that can be done, except to -" She lets out a frustrated sound akin to a growl, a scream, a cry. And, at the tail of the sound, as it quiets to a breath, she speaks.

"I received a letter," she says. Another quivering breath, and she continues. "A letter which revealed the truth of my parentage."

Jiang Cheng stops his words before they can escape; he does not need to interrupt. If left the space to continue, she will - he knows this. He knows her.

"He-" it's spat out, a strangled sound. Furious, and Jiang Cheng understands that feeling better than anyone. "I am a child of assault," she spits.

"I'm sor-" Isn't that what he's supposed to say? But she cuts him off.

"I am a child," she continues, teeth gritted. "Of Jin Guangshan."

Of - of - what?

"And he knew!" it's more of a wail, now. "A-Yao knew, since before the wedding. But he thought it better to keep quiet, because it was - after A-S-" She doesn’t seem able to say the name - understandable. Sometimes Jiang Cheng struggles with the same thing. With others, too.

He still has his hand in her arm, but now she takes it in one hand, then both, gripping it tight enough to hurt, tight enough for him to feel the ring of Zidian making imprints in her soft skin.

They had both loved A-Song. A friend for A-Ling, and a sweet boy, with his dimpled smile and eyes filled with wonder. He had been so joyful, listening intently to every word his mother cooed to him in the cradle, and he had laughed with delight when Jiang Cheng lifted him high into the air, something that A-Ling had been too big for by then.

It had always been strange how distant Jin Guangyao had seemed to keep himself from his own son. Jiang Cheng had written it off as the panic of fatherhood, and understood it, having felt almost the same way when - but - but this is -

"Jiang Cheng," Qin Su says, her words now deliberate and emotionless, as if it’s the only way she can force them out. "He killed my son." As soon as she has spoken, she gasps, and lets the despair take her again.

"He - how-" Words fail him. Anger is familiar, yes, but with his hands held so tightly in hers, his concentration is on Zidian, on not letting it spark out the rage it knows he feels.

"He set it up!" she cries. "He set it up so that - in case A-Song was -"

Her voice tails off, and her tears come silent now, mouth open in grief that she can't express - grief that she has never been able to express.

He's not very well going to be any help with that. Instead, he lifts his other hand, covering hers and his with it, and channels his anger to his voice.

"I'll kill him."

He's not saying it as he once did, half in jest, more frustration than rage - no, this is cold, hard, the steel edge of his lightning anger. He knows he can say nothing to ease her pain, and he knows that she doesn't want to hear anything else. This, though, this he can say.

"Or I will," she forces out, voice cracked and broken and yet fierce.

His right hand is numb from her grip, but in some soothing way it helps. The absence of feeling there is a distraction, a grounding force, because if he could stand and leave, he'd do it, he'd go straight to the Fragrance Hall and he'd -

There's a knock at the door. A familiar, soft, fucking patronising tap, and a horribly familiar voice calling through.

"Jiang-Zongzhu," It's oozing politeness, dripping saccharine syrup and burning into Jiang Cheng's ears. "Do you know where A-Su is?"

Qin Su's grip on his hands tightens yet more for a second, and then, with a sharp inhale - loosens. She extracts her hands from his grip, forcing herself into a cool and measured manner, and pushes herself to stand, wiping her sleeves beneath her eyes. All of this before Jiang Cheng has even been able to speak. Without Qin Su's hands on his own, they've curled into fists that he can barely relax.

"Why would I?" he calls in response to Jin Guangyao, attempting the offhand gruffness that he's perfected these years, but it falls short.

Qin Su shakes her head, and takes a step towards the door, wobbling only a little. Inside her sleeves, her hands, too, are curled into fists.

In this moment, he's somewhat afraid of her. And then - all at once - his mouth is curling into a prideful smirk at her power, anticipation for what will come, and he stands, following behind her to the door.

"Give me a minute," he calls roughly to Jin Guangyao. Make him wait.

Just before Qin Su can put a hand on the door to open it, he takes her arm with his left hand. "Trust me," he murmurs at her look of alarm, and lifts his right hand to hers, fingers curling round her wrist.

He's never done this before, but he shuts his eyes, and whispers to the lightning anger.

Slowly at first, then with a smooth speed, Zidian slithers across to her wrist, making itself at home against her delicate skin, the ring winding itself around her middle finger, and sealing itself. It looks as though it belongs there - Jiang Cheng almost can't bear to let go, not least for the strange calm he feels without the static flickering on the edges of his consciousness.

She gives him a sort of smile, a tear left unshed at the corner of her eye, marring the perfect picture of callous anger. He nods once, swallows, and lifts a thumb to brush away the tear.

She slides the door open, and Jin Guangyao is there, all smiles, all relief to see her. All that and sticky sweet falsehood, and at the edge of it, a calculating glint in his eye.

"A-Su," he says, "I've-"

Jiang Cheng hears the crackling before he does, sees the flash of purple before Jin Guangyao has a chance to react.

He's felt Zidian's sting himself only once before, and it was only the laughable mistake of letting a young Jin Ling play with the weapon, a mild hit compared to some.

This - this is full force and heavy, throwing Jin Guangyao back across the courtyard, into the decorative pond in front of the opposite building. This is what he deserves.

"A-Su-" he struggles to stand.

She whips him again, and this time he stays down, blood dribbling from his mouth as he looks at her with wide, frightened eyes.

She's beautiful like this. Fearsome, proud, her slight stature almost unnoticeable with the amount of rage that she holds inside. Jiang Cheng could watch for - forever.

Jin Guangyao croaks from the pond he’s slumped in. "Please, A-Su, let me -"

Once more, and he's unconscious.

The commotion is stirring people from the surrounding buildings now, running footsteps and voices audible, and though Qin Su’s face is etched with a cool, triumphant smile, Jiang Cheng knows to act.

"Qin Su," he urges. "Quick. Give me Zidian back, say it was me."

Her eyes flicker with defiance, but she climbs down from it, her breathing quickening. "I -"

He takes her hand in his before she can argue, and summons Zidian back.

"Jiang Cheng-" The beginnings of panic are showing in her eyes as she glances to where the sounds of crowds are coming from - but at least the satisfaction shows no signs of giving way to regret.

"We'll work it out," he says, and then swallows all his past down to continue. "Come back to Lotus Pier with me. You'll be safe there."

She meets his gaze, and he hopes it holds all the truth that's in his heart, all his intentions.

Letting go of her wrist, he lets Zidian crackle once, twice, between his fingers, and searches her eyes for the answer.

A moment later, she gives it, a gentling of her eyes, a sadness to her smile, and she nods. Whispers "thank you," and lifts her hand to press a brief touch of palm to cheek.

He nods, trying not to let his breathing stutter, and turns back towards Jin Guangyao’s unconscious form, moving to stand in front of her as the crowds rush into the courtyard.

Behind his back, he moves his left hand. A second later, she takes it.

#jiang cheng? falling in love with woman who can injure him? its more likely than you think #the untamed #the untamed fic #cql fic #mine #fic*

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tick-fic-nick · 3 years

Text

What are friends for?

SPOILERS FOR C2 E141!!!!

Summary: Essek has a bad dream, but he also has friends who take care of him

Warnings: tickling, nightmare stuff, angst

The true fight had begun.

Everything went tense.

His mind swirled with different possibilities, different options, and different endings.

The city was beneath them, and it all had happened so fast. Each of his new allies falling unconscious or worse. Caleb under a fallen building, or whatever it was. He pulled him out, willing it to happen.

When he looked up again, the final blow had been dealt, and.... it was over.

He looked around and his friends who most of which were looking worse for ware... but still standing.

After that, his mind was muddled, feeling the effects of the battle they barely won.

Lucien mangled body lay on the ground, ripped down the middle. The living surrounded him, in a puddle of the their own tears, and Esseks too. He felt his face for wet finding a small stream trickling down his face. He pulled away his finger from his face looking at the red that laced his index.

Shocked he brought his other hand up to his face, the same red coming back. He looked back up to where his friends were, only to see them all laying motionless on the ground in front of them, taking a step back instinctually.

A hand arose from the flesh, grabbing his leg and pulling him down into the city. He could feel himself sinking deeper and deeper. His arms trying to pull at the flesh, but could never grab hold. The ground came up to meet his shoulders.

But then everything stopped.

He was stuck. And it was getting tighter. His chest compressed slowly. Tunnel vision appeared into his periphery. But voice spoke out, and walked toward him.

"Thelyss, don't think you'll get away that easy"

The familiar Zemnian voice crept under his skin. Not the one he'd come accustomed to over the last week. The one he'd try to separate away from. A horrible, wicked man that came closer into view.

Trent. He felt his face contort from panic, to blood curdling fear.

"Why the long face? Wait, don't tell me," the noise from the boot got louder before he felt the bottom of it pressed against his cheek. The force of the boot made him ache.

"You let yourself become weak with these fools," he took a beat to laugh "well don't worry. There's a special place to watch their execution."

Essek tried to scream but nothing came out of his mouth. He tried to do anything, but each movement seemed to sink him further into the ground. But anywhere was better than with him. So he struggled and struggled, only sinking more and more until he completely submerged into the city.

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

Jester and caleb had volunteered to take watch for the first couple hours that night. Sure, they were at the Clay's temple of the Wildmother, but after Trent attacked them, they made sure to keep a close watch at night.

Rain softly drizzled down, tapping the windows and thatch roof, causing for most, a sound sleep. Though Caleb noticed Essek in his trace, to have scrunched his brow. Tapping Jester, he then pointed at their drow friend who hovered off the ground, not but a couple feet away.

Jester leaned over and whispered "maybe he's dreaming"

"I'm not sure... he could be"

"He's probably having freaky dream sex, right now" She winked

"Probably... but if he's not having a good time, then we should wake him, ya?"

"But aren't you supposed to like, not wake up someone who's have freaky kinky dream sex?"

"No, that's for sleep walking."

Jester scoots closer to caleb "Cay-Leb! Who do you think he's having süper freaky kinky dream sex with?" She pokes him repeatedly into his side for playful emphasis.

He bats at her hands, with a slight smile at his lips "shh! Don't get too loud, and im not talking about this with you" He continues to watch Essek, even through Jesters inappropriate questions.

The drow in question, twitches. Once, twice, five times, and curls into himself slightly. After a few seconds his hovering stops, falling slowly to the ground. But still siting up in his trance. Caleb grabs Jesters hands lightly and holds them causing her to quiet slightly, just enough to hear a almost silent squeak that comes from the drow in question.

Caleb's face had recognition on it before he quietly whispered to Jester who had the same look grace her features "he's having a bad dream."

They both stood and walked to Essek, flanking him on either side. When they both got situated, almost about ready to wake him, his eyes shot open. A gasp and a sob found it way into his throat, and his arms hugged his middle.

Jester found herself scooting closer putting an arm behind his back, and he other arm onto of his knee. "Essek!" She whispered "Essek are you alright?"

He looked to her a little shaken, and realized the wet on his face. He chose not to wipe it. "Y-yes Jester. It is alright, im fine, just a little bad dream, no cause for alarm." He finally looked towards caleb.

"Stange..." started Caleb "I didn't know drow could dream, let alone have nightmares"

"...yes, normally we don't, however, if we are tired enough in our nightly trance we can slip into sleep and thats is when we dream."

There was a slight silence. Jester started to run her hand across his shoulders and upper back. "Well do you want to talk about it?"

The thought crossed his mind but he couldn't bother them with this. They had already helped him so much. "Ah, no Jester. That won't be necessary..." He couldn't help but Glace slightly at the figure in the corner with the permanent bindings.

Feeling a third hand on him he looked at Caleb who had a put on hand on his shoulder. "Well you know, Thelyss... you need to learn how to relax."

A small tired chuckle escaped Essek "Yes, it is something that I've found I need to work on."

Jester spoke up in a quiet genuine voice "I can help you right now, only if you want to."

Normally, he wouldn't say yes, normally he wouldn't let people this close into his bubble and normally he wouldn't let people see him so vulnerable. However, he could trust these people. These people were his friends who only wanted the best for him. Would it be rude to say no? He took a breathe and looked between them both before saying "I suppose... if you are offering."

Jester's concern, turned into a wide smile squeezing him slightly. She scooted away "ok, so my Mama would do this with me whenever I had a bad dream. Now lay down right here." She patted on her thigh.

He begrudgingly followed her command, slightly embarrassed. Facing away from her, he lay curled onto his side, with her thigh as his pillow. "Is... is this what I am supposed to do?"

"You perfect! Now I'm going to rub your back, is that okay?"

"...yes"

"Ok" her fingers gently began to glide on Esseks upper back, sometimes using her nails. However he didn't relax into her touch, quite the opposite. The muscles she barely touched would twitch under her. "Essek you need to relax"

His voice peaked through shaking slightly. "ssorry Jester, it uh... just tickles is all." At his admittance, Jester saw the skin around his cheeks become a darker shade, without light she couldn't see the color but she already knew he was blushing.

"Essek~ you never told us you were ticklish" her fingers now more deliberately searched for sensitive skin, not enough to make him laugh, but just to keep him tittering. She needed to relax him after all.

"J-Jester! Plehease ihi" He kept his plea quiet and soft, but his body shook slightly. His neck scrunched up and a smile plastered onto his face. His hand brought up to hold his mouth shut, to not wake the others.

Caleb spoke up "Mr. Thelyss, it'd be better for you if you just relaxed, she's not going to wake everyone up just to tickles you to bits"

Just as the muscles in his neck and shoulders loosened, he felt something begin to trace around his ear. Squeaky quiet giggles escaped him as his upper body balled up. "Nonononoho! Eheheh ehe jeeheehsteher! Please!" His hands came up to bat at what he thought was her other hand but was the tip of her tail.

Jester immediately stopped tracing, both with her hand and tail, instead rubbed away the tickly feeling, almost massaged. His muscles instinctually softened as his giggles murmured down. "Sorry essek I didn't know your ears were that ticklish"

Butterflies swirled in his stomach making him shiver, from her accidentally tease. "It is alright Jester." He sat up from his position composing himself and not making eye contact with her or caleb (though he wouldn't see him anyway.) He felt more heavy than he did before. "It seems that your..." He paused looking for the right words "peculiar method for relaxation has worked"

"Sorry that it was too tickly, oh and don't worry we won't tell anyone that your like süper ticklish Essek"

He just blushed with a nod, hoping that she was telling the truth "Well I will try and find rest then." Before he could stand up he felt a hand on his forearm. His eyes landing on Caleb.

"I know that sleep is most restful when surrounded by friends" he then felt Jester put her hand on his mid back.

"Yeah, essek stay here with us"

Looking between them, he sighed slightly "alright" settling back down, he took up his trance position, this time not floating.

Slowly falling into trance. This time however no nightmares.

He awoke a couple hours later, most of his friends still asleep. One of which Caleb was leaning against him. Jester had found her place against Fjord, who was in fact awake. Along with Caduceus. It's was nice. Peaceful even.

This next week wouldn't be too bad he thought.

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

Finally did it!

(Authors note, I forgot that elves/drow don't sleep but I kinda made it work out in the end, also I tried to make caleb as awkward as possible so I hope I succeeded.)

#critical role #sfw tickles #critical role s2 #the mighty nein #tickle #caleb widogast #cr jester #jester lavorre #essek theyless #hot boi essek #cr essek #cr caleb #critical role spoilers #cr spoilers #angst

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ivyuns · 3 years

Text

come back to me again ❆ ✰

kim seungmin

genre: angst, fluff

word count: 1.8k

warnings: 2018-2020 era, young hearts are broken, mentions of passing out, y/n’s leader name is yerim and other member’s name is sunni, mentions of suicide, fainting, mean comments, strict dieting, one bad word oop, the plot doesnt make sense lol i just wanted a break from landing in your heart, not proofread

notes: i had three story plots i wanted to use but uh yeah i chose this one (maybe ill post all three of them but different members oo) but listen to love again by baekyun, or the cover by minnie <3

masterlist

idol!seungmin x femidol!reader

tell me you love me like the day you did

the day it ended was on a rainy, cold day. seungmin called you to meet up with him, saying he had something to tell you. heading to the jyp building, which wasnt that far from you house.

scanning your id and greeting the staff, you go to the room seungmin was in. knocking twice, you heard a “come in” and opened the door gently. “hi minnie” you smiled at your boyfriend. seungmin waved back with a small smile on his face.

“y/n, come sit here, we need to talk”

going to where seungmin pat the spot for you to sit, he sighs. “i know this is hard, but you know how stray kids is debuting soon?” you nod, knowing where this is leading to. “i- we have to break up” he paused. “but you know i love you right? i promise id come back after three years okay baby?” holding you tears, you looked into his eyes, that are full of sadness.

trying your best to hold your tears in, you gave him one last hug. before parting different ways, seungmin kissed your lips. letting go, you put the promise ring he gave you 2 years ago on his palm and walked away. letting the tears running onto your cheeks as you walked away from the room.

with a sobbing seungmin left alone in the practice room. holding your promise ring made him feel guilty, but it wasnt his fault that he had to do this.

tell me once again, say that you love me again

packing all of seungmins stuff that was at your house and looking though them made your heart burn. from they day he asked you out after school to whenever you two last hung out with each other, which was over 2 months ago.

because now that you and seungmin auditioned to be in the same company, but with seungmin, he had a little bit more talent than you did. it didnt mean you didnt have talent, it just meant you were physically ready to become an idol. still improving, many idols were amazed at how well your singing and dancing was.

finally taping seungmins box, you went to the stray kids dorm and dropped it off and to say goodbye to the boys. deciding to switch to a new company to focus more instead of dealing with you heartbreak.

you rung the doorbell and you come face-to-face with seungmin. handing seungmin the box, you asked if it was okay to say goodbye to the boys, which made seungmin confused. where you going somewhere? ending your dreams?

seungmin moved to the side for you to come in. as seungmin closed the door, a voice was heard. “seungmo! who’s here- oh” looking up, you see minho. your eyes that was red and puffy ran more tears down as you ran up and hugged minho.

minho was in fact the one who introduced you to seungmin. accidentally falling in love with seungmin, you told minho all about it and he eventually told seungmin about your feelings towards him. seungmin, who felt the same way, made the best way to confess to you, which was a success.

minho hugged you back, caressing you back as seungmin looked down and went back to his room. “its okay love, its okay” minho shushed you as you cried into his chest. settling you two in the living room, the whole stray kids but seungmin came out of their rooms, comforting you as they all knew what happened between you and seungmin.

30 minutes passed and you decided it was time to go. giving the boys one last hug, you made sure they’ll have good luck when theyre now idols.

“just know, ill love you guys forever. thank you”

im where ive always been, i still love you

almost 2 years had gone by and you finally debuted into a three member group. with being the main vocalist and dancer. being invited to the award shows, your group gracefully posed on the red carpet, right after stray kids. accidentally locking eyes with seungmin, you almost teared up but you had to be strong.

sitting down in front of stray kids, you grew anxious as if nobody else other than stray kids and yerim knew about your past relationship. stilling having feelings for seungmin, you let them go and paid attention to the show that was now starting.

“hyung, dont you think y/n looks like shes about to pass out?” jeongin asked seungmin. after you left the dorms that day, seungmin didnt know where you were. nobody told him anything about you other than you leaving jyp. you and your group was hidden from social media until your company announced a new girl group was debuting soon.

after seungmin got the news about you, he felt so relieved, knowing that you were still here living. on the pictures online, you looked like a goddess. the way your singing was beautiful and your dancing were sharp. he was amazed at how far you came.

but when seungmin saw you in person, it looked like you were on the verge of passing out due to how thin you looked. it looked like you couldnt perform on what your condition is.

feeling unsteady, your group was the last ones to perform. getting into your costumes, you fell back slightly when yerim pushed you up. after seeing how weak your body has been acting, she was worried something might happen to you on stage. and seeing how you reacted when you saw seungmin again made her worried.

“y/n, are you sure you got this?” yerim asked. nodding your head a yes with a smile on you, you gave her a thumbs up. with the smile that hid everything. yerim nodded her head, your group was ready to perform.

among the three girls that was on the stage, seungmin only looked out for you. anxiety rising, seungmin bit his lips which changbin rubbing his back to calm down.

the end of the performance, you tried your best to stay still, but you only saw blurry vision. as you were about to get off stage, you fainted with your head hitting the floor first. gasping were loud from everyone as yerim and sunni tried to lift you up and go back to the dressing rooms.

as soon as seungmin saw everything, he stood up and tried to run towards you till he was stopped by chan. “seungmin you cant. everyone’s going to find out” “i dont care hyung, the person i love the most is hurt” seungmin said and let go of chan’s hand that was gripped around seungmins wrist.

seungmin runs through the halls and tries to find your groups room. after finding it, he gently pushes away people who are near you and gets a view of you on the couch. “s-seungmin” both sunni and yerim said together. “yerim, what happened to her” seungmin asked, skipping the honorifics since they know each other.

yerim bites her lips with glossy eyes, scared of what to tell seungmin what you’ve been doing. “yerim?! i said whats going on with y/n-” “she tried to kill herself!” seungmin pauses and tries to lets what yerim said sink into him.

“w-what? why?” seungmin asks as tears start streaming down his face, as well as sunni’s and yerim’s. “she was scared. scared that she wasnt going to be perfect to be an idol. she started getting hate comments, saying she was too fat. but this is why shes too thin. she wont listen to us when we tell her she needs to rest and to start eating. all she does is practice with no water breaks but somehow, she still hits every move right. other than that, shes scared of what youll see her like again. she still loves you seungmin, but shes scared”

“sunbae, shes not okay. she needs somebody and that somebody is you”

seungmin was stunned by what yerim and sunni told him. “can- can you two leave us for a moment. please?” seungmin asked quietly as everyone left the room. seungmin starred at your body. eyes closed with you as skinny as your bones. it scared him of how you thought so low about yourself.

he doesnt understand it. he doesnt understand how you got every moves and vocals right without anything. where you like this during your relationship? no, it couldnt. both seungmin and you promised each other that you two will never keep secrets to yourself.

seungmin silently cries to himself, thinking of why you wanted to do this to yourself as he held your hand. his tears slowly fall onto you forearms, which wipes the makeup off of your scars you created, which makes seungmin cry more.

because of you fainting, the award show was paused temporally. with this being said, stray kids got up and quickly went to you room until they were stopped by yerim. “dont, seungmins already in there” all of them nods their heads and waited outside the room with minho dropping down, hands in his face with tears as he remembers when you tried to seek help from him but he never answered because he was too busy.

don't leave me alone baby, just stay for the night baby

still holding your hand, seungmin whispers ‘i love yous’ and ‘im sorry, please forgive me’. gaining conscious, you flutter your eyes open and see seungmin in front of you.

“seungmin?”

he opens his eyes to see you awake. “bab- y/n. thank god” seungmin says and hugs you gently. tears start streaming down as you realized he probably knows everything now. “s-seungmin, did they tell you-” “yes they did. and im sorry. so fucking sorry oh my god, please dont do this again. please eat, please do what you loved to do again. i want the old y/n back, the happy one” seungmin lets out.

“okay, ill come back” you told him. seungmin wipes your tears away, as well as his and plants a kiss on your lips. “come back to me again?” nodding your head, you both smile. this time, a real and happy smile from you.

the awards continued on and your group won an award. chan offered your group if they wanted to come for dinner, you were going to decline, but yerim, sunni and seungmin forced you to, wanting you to start eating again.

heading out, the eleven of you walked to the nearest korean bbq while holding seungmin’s hand. feeling the warmth youve been missing for 2 years.

tell me your love again.

END <3

#stray kids #stray kids seungmin #seungmin angst #seungmin fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #skz angst #skz fluff #skz #jyp skz #kpop angst #kpop fluff #kpop #kim seungmin #fluff #angst

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chubbyreaderchan · 4 years

Text

Hero | Bo Sinclair x Reader

MAJOR WARNINGS!!!: Contains mention of abuse, sex trafficking and lots of other triggering topics. Please do not read if you cannot handle such things. This will also very obviously have at least mild gore because it is literal serial killers! You have been warned.

Summery: Bo and his brothers accidentally saves a girl from a sex trafficking ring. Instead of murdering her, they allow her to stay in Ambrose. Bo doesn’t expect to fall in love with her, especially since she clings to him and relies on him for comfort.

(Y/n) sat in the front seat of the truck. She was the last to be delivered to a very rich man in New York. Tears streamed down her dirty face. Honestly, she just wanted to go home. She wanted to run away but she knew she didn’t have a chance, especially with her hands cuffed to the seat she was in. The man next to her very rarely spoke. Silent until she did something he didn’t like. She was bruised and uncomfortable, tired. But she didn’t want to sleep. She never wanted to risk it. He was pretty handsy, despite knowing his boss would kill him since the buyer wanted an “untouched” lady.

Her stomach churned. She wanted to vomit. The vehicle was extremely hot as they drove through the middle of no where. The sun was sinking down and his truck puttered and made a strange noise. The truck was slowing down, practically crawling. He cursed annoyed and pulled off the side of the road. He tossed a blanket over her to hide her while he got out of the vehicle. He opened the hood and looked it over. He was city boy and had never actually fixed a truck before. He cursed and pulled out his phone.

“My damn truck is a piece of shit...” He shouted, she stayed low as to not get the brunt of it. He kicked the tire on the truck arguing now. (Y/n) wished she wasn’t stuck in the truck or else she would make a run for it. She tugged at the chains and cursed softly.

How long will she be here?

She didn’t know. However, a tinge of hope built up in her chest when bright headlights came over the hill. It was a beat up truck with deer hooves hanging on the mirror. A scrawny man walked out. Her captor cursed again and moved to shove her down further to hide her. She winced as her wrist was tugged, pinched and slightly cut by the cuffs. “Ya need some help, buddy?” The happy looking guy spoke.

“My truck is being a piece of shit.. I don’t know shit about it.” The scrawny man looked at the truck. “Ya ain’t far from Ambrose. My brother works there and he’s pretty good at fixin’ cars. He’s pretty cheap too.” The man whose name she never got cursed again and looked at his watch. If he didn’t the delivery would be late. If he was careful maybe he could get away with it. “Fine.”

“I can tow it.” He said with a bright smile on his face. “Unless you think it could make it.”

“No, it should be fine.” Towing would be really risky. He climbed back into the truck and covered her more. He whispered to her harshly. “If you say a damn thing I will kill you” He flipped on the vehicle. It groaned to a start, whizzing as they drove to the small and strangely empty town. It was eerily quiet, but perhaps that was just because it was so late. It was a small town, the rules were different.

“I gotta go get ‘im” The thin man, now known as Lester stated. “He don’t like people going into his gas station when he’s not there though.” He looked a little nervous. He was going to have to wake up his brother who honestly didn’t take things well. But it was a new tourist! He drove off and (Y/n) stayed down, softly sobbing. She was so close to being saved and yet so far. As soon as the damn truck was fixed she would be off to New York to be abused by some rich asshole. “Shut the fuck up” he whispered once Lester was gone. “I don’t care how rich the bastard is. I will fuck you up if you make any more noises” This time he had a pocket knife in his hand. He slid it down her cheek, leaving a burning trail of blood. “Don’t test me, bitch!” That’s when a broad shouldered dark haired man in a blue truck finally arrived. He looked tired, like he was just woken up. Most likely was. (Y/n) only got a glance of him, but despite his grumpy looking face he was handsome. It was a strange thing to think at a time like this but what else could she do? Her mind wasn’t exactly the healthiest at the moment.

Now she could hardly hear them as they went into his gas station. She pulled again at the chains hoping for some weakness anywhere. It only cut into her wrists more. Blood dripped down them and she cried in pain, frustrated from her whole situation. Her sobs were as silent as they could be.

“You know, you can use the facilities at the house. Lester can take ya so I can get to work.” The man nodded as he was lead off by the scrawny man. He left reluctantly. He was hoping the gas station had a bathroom but they were insistent for some reason he found suspect. Once in the house he found himself in a room alone. Or so he thought. After washing his hands, his eyes lifted to see a frozen masked man. He screamed when he felt a pair of scissors go into his ribs. The man screamed in pain pushing the masked man away and slamming out of the locked door back into the main parts of the house.

Meanwhile, Bo was digging in the truck. He pulled out different parts tiredly. Honestly, he wished he could go back to bed but wanted to get some of the easier things out of the vehicle while Vincent his brother was taking care of the tourist. All for one tourist. That kind of pissed Bo off but was to tired to go yell at his brother. He’d do it in the morning. Bo stretched and moved to open the door to the truck grabbing anything that seemed like it was useful. Then he noticed the blanket. It was unusually shaped. He frowned, grabbing it and pulling it.

Bo’s face was filled with surprise at the pretty girl crouched down in the floor boards, crying. Her hair was dirty and hardly had any clothes on her body. His eyes trailed to the cut on her face then up to her wrists. He cringed, thinking of his own experiences as a kid.

“Well, I’ll be. That man is just as much of a bastard as we are.” Her eyes widened at that. What did that mean? She sobbed softly, Bo’s blue eyes looked at her with a bit of concern. She was just another to be added to Vincent’s collection... yet. Something about her made him feel awful at the idea. She was already scared and probably seen some shit just as bad as what went on in this town. It also didn’t help that she was exactly his type, if he was honest. Vincent can go fuck himself.

He walked back into a garage, grabbing some cutters. With a bit of force he broke the handcuffs. Two more cuts and she was completely free. “Come on, darlin’” He was shocked by what happened next. She threw her arms around him, clinging to him like a koala. “It’s alright. I got ya” This was strange. Normally they would run from him.

“Come on. Let me clean you up.” He carried her into the garage, instead of taking her down stairs to his own fun chamber, he sat her on his metal work bench. He had a small first aid kit and began attending to her wounds. Bo was never this gentle to anyone is his life, but here he was. He knew pain like that oh so well. He knew exactly how to care for it. “There. No more tears, sweetheart. Someone as pretty as you shouldn’t be cryin’“ He tried to lighten the mood. “Come here.” He walked off and grabbed a set of coveralls. She was practically naked and honestly though she could use a bit of extra comfort. “You can wear this. It’s a bit dirty but...” He shrugged. (Y/n) took it shakily, not minding him there while she slipped it on. It fit well enough, smelled like cigarettes and motor oil but it was alright. It was better than the sickly peppery smell of the man delivering her to New York.

“Fucking shit!” Speaking of, there he was walking into the garage. “You little bitch fucking escaped. Get in damn truck, you stupid slut.” He began to advance stupidly forward. Bo stood between her and the man. “You aren’t going to take her, man.” Bo grabbed a heavy tool off the bench. “She’s going to stay right here in Ambrose,” The man grunted and lunged at Bo, only for Bo to bash him in the skull. Fuck that guy. Vincent will just have to get over it. He continued to bash him until he was a barely twitching pile of shit. When Bo looked up he saw Vincent in the drive way. “I’ll get you two new tourists, Vincent. Just let me take care of this one!” Vincent obviously said nothing. A nod. That’s all. He wondered in deeper towards (Y/n). She didn’t seemed phased by either the gore or the strange man touching her cut cheek. “It ain’t too deep.” Bo told his brother, joining them rubbing the blood off his hands. Vincent nodded again and moved to grab the body of the man to take him up to the House of Wax.

Then she did it again. Ignoring the blood, she reached forward and hugged Bo tight.

“Thank you, your my hero...” She sobbed.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’re safe here.” He held her tightly against him. “What’s your name, little lady?” “(Y/n)”

“I’m Bo. You can stay with me, alright? I’ll take care of you” He said softly, brushing his fingers on her cheek as she cried again. What the hell was he getting himself into?

#bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #house of wax #slashers x reader #tw: sex trafficking #tw: mild gore #woops

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bruh-haikyuu · 4 years

Note

Yohoo~! Can i request a scenario where s/o is akaashi’s long time crush and v popular in their school, always smiling to people left and right but she’s suicidal and depressed when no one’s around and akaashi discover it one day? I hope you understand what im saying haha, thank you~!

A/N: I hope you enjoy anon! For anyone who feels this way, it’s always better to talk it out rather than bottle it in, I learned this the hard way :’) // I’ve made the reader female, if that’s alright with you!

P.S: next request is a sequel everyone’s been waiting for ;)) can you guess?

tacenda. | akāshi keiji

word count: 1804

warnings: depressive and suicidal themes!

(n.) things better left unsaid; matters to be passed over in silence

16 years old and Akaashi had never seen you cry. Not even once.

He recalled it from the moment he’d known you. From the lengthy days in grade school up until the wee hours in high school. Not a single tear had left the premises of your face.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

When the both of you were in first grade, he had watched you stumble and roll onto the coarse surface of a gravel road. Your knee had gotten helplessly scratched, the injury pulsing with deep, crimson liquid. At the sight of the open wound, your friends had cried and cried, whining about how the indomitable L/N Y/N had been overpowered by a simple road.

Akaashi had watched you from afar that day, the cacophonous cries of your volatile friends pulling his attention away from the family of stag beetles nesting in a tree.

Girls will cry at just about everything, he had thought, the shrillness of your friends’ lament boring into his head. I think Y/N’s going to cry too. I should probably go look for Kaneko-sensei—

“Hey, hey. I’m fine, see? You guys are such crybabies, Rui, Akarin.”

Akaashi’s face had whitened like a blank sheet, unable to correctly register the tone of your voice. Even your friends had stopped crying at your lukewarm reaction.

Your knee had been oozing out blood like a spilled bottle of ketchup, yet there you were, completely impervious to the obvious pain that your wound displayed, laughing and smiling like you always did.

It was from that day that Akaashi realized you were much harder to crack than you seemed to be.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Ten years into the present, Akaashi Keiji still hasn’t had you solved.

Ten years into the present, you were still the well-liked, striking L/N Y/N he had known since he was six. In fact, you were even somewhat more dazzling each day. It didn’t dismiss the thought that you were an indomitable puzzle he was raring to decipher.

“If you ask me, L/N-senpai’s way cooler than any of the boys. Yesterday, she saved me from a speeding car on the way to school!”

“That’s so lucky, Mayumi-chan! Oh man, I would do anything to trade places with you.”

“When she spoke to me, I felt my insides tingle and everything… is that what it’s like to be in the presence of a deity?”

Lunch time was the only tolerating hour for Akaashi to eavesdrop on any of the school’s ongoing sensations without having to be called out for it. Like any other day, one of today’s hot topics was you.

Ears growing bigger by the second, he caught bits and pieces of the astonished first-year girls’ conversation. As they walked off into a corner, he managed to hear something along the lines of ‘beautiful’, ‘goddess’ and ‘confess’—but even that wasn’t new to his ears.

Yes, you were charming, kind-hearted and an absolute delight to be around but that didn’t even bring him closer to the truth behind your impossible perfection. His acquaintance with you from childhood didn’t do him any favors either, which was a downright pain-in-the-ass.

After all, Akaashi figured, if he was finally going to officially proclaim his feelings to you, he’d have to have at least a tiny grain of yours.

“Hey, Akaashi. You’re awfully quiet today. You good, man?” the captain of the volleyball club poked at him, stuffing his face with his second loaf of yakisoba-pan.

Sighing, Akaashi recollected his composure. “I’m alright, Bokuto-san… and please don’t eat while talking, you’ll choke yourself if you do.”

Bokuto said something, mouth full of yakisoba, bread and variants of sauce, but it all fell deaf on Akaashi’s ears because he had already picked up another conversation about you…

“Man, L/N’s trying out for a student council position again this year, right? That girl’s got a mad stamina when it comes to volunteer work.”

“Yeah…”

The conversation seemed to stray into the usual topics, but there was a malicious undertone that kept Akaashi’s ears on guard.

“…But don’t you think she’s just a desperate try-hard? Sometimes, she seems kind of shallow to me…”

‘Shallow’. That was definitely new. It was new, but it was irrefutably wrong.

Akaashi felt acid rising to his head. His teeth bit into his bottom lip, hard enough to possibly draw blood. He wanted to get up. He wanted to get up and beat the crap out of that guy.

But sitting in the spectator’s seat like always, Akaashi could only frown and watch. You were the star of the show and he was your closet fanatic—his abilities limited to throwing you congratulatory roses at every occasion. He would kill to share that spotlight with you.

The cafeteria began to clear up and Akaashi recollected his thoughts before returning to class. Class 2-6 had Modern Literature for last period—Akaashi wondered if his day could get any worse.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Practice ran late again with Bokuto’s persistent pleas for him to set for his ‘new’ variant of a cross spike.

Bokuto-san just wanted to do a cross spike while shouting ‘Hadouken’. Akaashi thought. What’s the difference from his usual spikes? I don’t get it…

Akaashi felt a wrinkle settling on his forehead as he double locked the clubroom for good measure. The captain’s insistence had prevented him from submitting the form for a school bus reservation—in fact, it had been Bokuto’s job in the first place. Akaashi couldn’t blame him though; Bokuto’s image didn’t exactly line up very well with paperwork and the Student Council (unless, of course, if it involved trumpeting about himself in front of its female members).

To his relief, the Student Council office was always open until 8:30 pm. It was now 8:15 pm. It would take him only a couple of minutes to drop off their form in the inbox bin. Then, Akaashi could finally sink himself in the warm clutches of his bathtub, surrounded by steam and the maybe that aromatic bath oil his aunt gifted him from Okinawa…

However, upon noticing the light streaming out of the rectangular, translucent window of the office accompanied with a faint sniffle from within, Akaashi felt his blood run cold.

It’s only 8 pm. It’s impossible. Ghosts don’t roam around student council offices, right…? I hardly think they’d come to this high school either… Oh no. How did that prayer Grandmother taught me go again?

Swallowing sharply, Akaashi’s fingers took the shape of the door handle and he pushed, eye screwed tight against whatever was going to greet him. “S-sorry for the i-intrusion.”

“Akaashi-kun?”

Akaashi let out a guttural noise inside his throat, teeth pinned to a grimace. Pupils adjusting to your slouched figure, he sighed, relieved that you weren’t any form of a Yuki Onna. However, your eyes were bloodshot, hair sticking up in various places. Any traces of your “perfect” appearance had been washed away with the tears that scarred your cheeks.

Looking at you in this state shattered Akaashi.

“I’m sorry.”

Meeting your darkened gaze, Akaashi murmured, “What?”

“I’m a selfish person for saying this, but I don’t want any of it anymore.”

Akaashi didn’t know how he didn’t notice the glint of a silver blade encircled by your fist until you pointed its tip at the upside of your wrist. He didn’t even think by then. He didn’t even think about the reservation form he dropped on the floor. He didn’t even count the steps he took to bound over the meeting table. He didn’t even think about how roughly he yanked your wrist away, knocking the cutter into a dark corner of the room.

He didn’t even think when he shouted, “Don’t!”

You furrowed your brows, palms clenching in resistance to his iron grip. “Are you stupid?!”

Akaashi’s hold on your arms slackened at your words, but he knew better than to let you go.

“I can’t take it anymore. It’s all too much!” more tears clump at your eyes, threatening to spill on Akaashi’s uniform slacks. “I tried! I tried to make everyone happy, but all they did was hurt me. It’s all my fault I’m like this. Please let me go, Akaashi-san…”

Your voice grew soft as your cries receded into gentle hiccups swaying in the windless room.

“Please let me end this…”

Akaashi felt the same acid from this afternoon bubble in his throat again, but this time he made sure it spewed. “Are you stupid, L/N-san? You can’t make others’ happy unless you’re happy yourself. Everyone knows that, you idiot!”

Akaashi felt his insides crumble as soon as his head registered the fact that he had called you, the most popular second-year at Fukuroudani, an idiot. But at least his words had stunned you so deeply you fell silent.

“Do things that make you happy, L/N-san,” he spilled, filter for words dissolved into nothingness. “It’s okay to take breaks and say no. Talk it out with someone you’re comfortable with. I’m even more positive that your friends will be happier if you were honest with them about your feelings. But doing things like…”

Akaashi’s attention caught the teasing shine of the cutter next to a potted plant.

“…this, would just make them miserable, won’t it? You may not see it, but everyone admires you. I admire you too. I would give anything to be like you. Kind, patient and all the more charming… You may not see it, but a lot of people are already happy just with your existence. That was you, L/N-san. You made them happy.”

Your gaze turned to that of a defeated puppy. A stray tear rolling down your cheek, you slid your arms down to take Akaashi’s hands in yours. In the midst of all the tension, his hands really felt like a warm bowl of miso soup. You really wanted to drink it all up to a finish.

“I’m really sorry for all the trouble I caused you, Akaashi-san.”

“It’s alright. Sorry for calling you an ‘idiot’,” saying more things than necessary really tired him out, but his energy really knew no bounds when it came to you.

“I-I’m really sorry, ‘Kaashi-san…’M really s-sorry…”

The hiccups returned and the dam to the waterworks burst at the linger of your voice. Despite all your trembling, Akaashi made it a point to hold you like he was never going to let go. If he had known from long ago, he’d tell you every day that he loved you, regardless if the feeling was mutual or not.

But he didn’t say a word for the length of the evening that he held you. His embrace seemed loud as it already was.

Akaashi Keji was 16 years old when he first saw you cry. And he was only 16 years old when he promised he was never going to let you feel that way ever again.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #akaashi keiji #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi keiji imagine #akaashi keiji scenario #sfw #fukurodani x reader #bruh haikyuu writing #akaashi x rader #keiji x reader

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softlyjiminie · 5 years

Text

happy birthday, my love | p.j.m

⇢ pairing(s): boyfriend!park jimin x reader.

⇢ word count: 1.3K

⇢ genre: fluff, angst, long distance relationship!au, idol!au.

⇢ summary: it’s one of those birthdays, where jimin is without you and the distance is killing him.

⇢ warning(s): please read! a little angst, swearing.

⇢ author’s note(s): hi guys! its currently 11:40 something pm GMT time so i'm posting this little drabble while it’s still jiminie’s birthday, i hope you goys enjoy!

“happy birthday, my love!” was the first thing you said to jimin as the screen illuminated on his computer. he was in his usual spot in whatever hotel room it was, by the the balcony with the lights streaming in through the curtains. it’s about mid day, october twelfth and jimin has a few hours to kill before show time. a small, albeit, sad smile dances across his lips as he watches you pull out a party popper and laugh until he sees your smile lines.

he tries to ignore the dark circles under your eyes from staying up late. it’s midnight for you and he knows that you’re tired. he ignores the time zones and puts on a front. because he knows that you stayed up just for him.

“thank you my darling.” he nods simply, fingers decorated with rings, touching the screen as if you were holding hands. you mirror his actions, beaming when the party hat you wore tilts to the side. jimin’s heart aches.

“i know there’s twelve more hours for you,” you whisper into the darkness of your own room, bound by blankets and headphones tucked in. “but i wanted to be the first, even if i am early.”

jimin nods, hiding his wince whilst you hide your yawn. you speak again. “why aren’t you smiling?”

“i can’t,” he mumbles back, the habit he has of driving his hands through his thick black hair coming forth again. his heart sinks in his chest at your disappointed face, knowing you stayed up for this call to see him. “not when you’re not with me like we planned.”

he sees your frown, he knows you’re hurt too. “my love, you know i’m impossibly sorry that i couldn’t make it, things came up and i just can’t afford it-“ you try to reason with him, memories of this same conversation relaying in his head.

“let me bring you out here...let me do something for you...”

you shake your head, and jimin leans back in his chair. he admired your humbleness, he loved how stubborn you were but he craved you to be close and to feel your skin on his. cherry lips between your teeth, you sigh and reach out to the screen with your hand again. “you know i couldn’t take a gift from you, especially on your day.”

he nods painfully, looking away and avoiding the lump in his throat. he won’t say much to you know, the ache in his chest growing like the distance between you. the next few moments are spent in an overbearing silence, you watching jimin and jimin watching you. a knock on his door raising a sad smile to your lips as you lean forward and press a kiss to the screen.

“happy birthday my love,” you whisper, a slight waver in your voice as you tilt your head to look at him. “i love you.”

jimin didn’t have time to say it back.

he smiles but his heart does not smile with him, you’d think being surrounded by thousands of fans who were all there just for him, he would have his spirits lifted.

but jimin was tired, his body was stiff and his heart ached. he couldn’t see your face in the crowd like he had planned. he couldn’t feel happy.

and yet, in honour of his birthday, while his beloved army sung their hearts out for him, jimin smiled. his crescent moon eyes creasing at the corner to the point where he couldn’t see, and where the tears wouldn’t fall for all of them to see.

the stage lights dimmed and he begun to descend back stage, where his body sagged and his emotions reined free. namjoon was on next, giving jimin a pity full grin as it was all he had time for. the stylists dabbed and danced around jimin, fixing his hair and touching up his make up. his bottom lip couldn’t help but wobble when seokjin approached him, concerned.

“jiminie...” elder mumbled, drawing the attention of the others members dotted around the room. “how’re you holding up?”

the younger let the dam break, curling into his hyung who wrapped him up in his broad arms. jimin cried, like a child, he cried as tears fell and drifted down the apples of his cheeks. “i miss her hyung, i want to go home, i miss her.” he sniffled, not caring about the stage make up that had begun to run.

“i know you do chim but-“

“no...you don’t know!” the dancer counters, his chest heaving from heavy emotions and words that weighed down his mind. “you don’t know what it’s like to not see her everyday, to not be able to hold her whenever i want, to kiss her whenever i want. ive been looking at her through a screen for this entire time, touching the screen at the same time as she just to feel something. every time we travel i feel us getting further apart and i see her heart shattering but there’s nothing i can do because i can’t comfort her. i can’t even comfort myself, hyung...”

the room was rendered silent, the only sound coming from namjoon performing on stage. jimin’s breathing was ragged, his hyungs and the maknaes watched over him worriedly. jungkook and taehyung being the most concerned, jimin was usually so bright and it pained them to see the oldest of their trio hurt so badly.

yoongi gave the singer a light massage to his back, a sort of comfort. “let’s get through tonight jimin, it’ll all be over soon.”

at 00:00 on october thirteenth, jimin hit the soft sheets of his five star hotel bed. his dark hair splaying out across the whites, as he lay in silence. it was his birthday now. he was meant to be a year older, a year wiser. and yet he felt that he’d only stayed the same.

if you were here, you would tell him how he didn’t need you to feel changed. that you didn’t complete each other but we’re instead equals, soulmates. but him being him would always feel as if a piece of himself were missing without you.

his only wish for midnight, was for you to be with him on his birthday.

“room service!” someone calls from the other side of the door, knocking gently. he didn’t order anything, jimin frowns, rolling over and putting his phone down. dozens and thousands of notifications streaming in from his fans to wish him a happy birthday. he didn’t want to move.

the person knocks again, only irritating jimin as he tries to cover his ears and drown in his own self sorrow. knockknockkock, room service! they call again and again until finally-

“park jimin i swear to god if you don’t open this door right now i’m going home.”

his head full of midnight black hair pops up at the sound of the voice, stumbling out of bed half dressed and rushing to the door. jimin wastes not a second longer tearing it up and throwing his arms over you, not even giving you a second to register what’s happening.

his brain is frazzled, a series of short circuits with a million and one burning questions to ask. you’re here, with him. in the flesh and blood, the touch of your hand on his cheek bringing him back to reality as it sears through him. “Y-YN?” he breathes, whiskey eyes fluttering across your face as if you confirm you’re real. “how did you get here? when did you get here? what are you doing here?”

“so many questions, my love...” you smile, pressing a small kiss to jimin’s nose as he holds you close. your scent relaxes his racing mind and his heart finally smiles along with him. “the boys did a good job keeping it a surprise, i planned to show up during your set onstage, but i got delayed a bit, but im here now and for the rest of the tour!”

jimin hugs you close, nuzzling into your neck as he inhales. he doesn’t need to say much for you to know that he loves you. and instead of speaking, you hold him tight and whisper.

“i’m here now, happy birthday my love.”

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