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sunshineistyping · 2 years

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The Fear Known As

Selenophobia

‘The Fear Known As___’

is a series in which a girl goes exploring with her best friend in an abandon megaplex and ends up discovering a broken animatronic. She decides to make it her job to fix the thing she has brought into their home.

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Part Five > The Fear Known As Nyctophobia

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Pairing: Sunnydrop/Moondrop x Fem!Reader

Au: Abandoned AU

Warnings Are On The Masterlist

(Recently updated)

This is NOT your normal Sunny, and I don’t want him to be like his original self. He’s been abandoned for years after all.

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“You don’t have to be shy you know, you can talk to me more then that.” You sigh and flick your eyes away. You’d tried desperately to stay connected with Sun but he retracted at any given chance. This would be in both the physical and emotional sense. He’d slide back a little farther at every word out of your mouth. You were much too frightened to get any closer though. It wasn’t all that surprising to hate the idea of growing close, he’d threatened your life a few times over. Was it so wrong to wish to live?

“About what?” His faceplate spun as he tilted his head side to side. He seemed relatively annoyed with the idea but your eyes fixated on the spinning once again. It seemed any sudden movement would cause it to shift, was that normal? The longer you sat in your mind palace the more you began to think. What made Sun act this way? Let alone why he had a secondary faceplate, why would he need that if he didn’t use it?

“You just seem a little off I guess. If you don’t mind me asking. What happened to you anyway?” There was an uncomfortable amount of silence that settled between you. Though his smile was permanent you felt the aggression and possibly even fear spill from him. You might have just asked the wrong question. After a few seconds of sitting in that silence he spoke up.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You sure? Maybe I could help-“

“Don’t you humans know how to mind your business? I said I’m not saying anything about it.” He snapped at you as his palm hit the ground. The sound was a loud crack, the bells jingling along with it. You could only describe it as the snapping of plastic. You’d originally flinched at the sound but now you were much more worried about his hand.

“I- Uhm- Is your hand okay?” You mumbled out while trying to keep the room quiet. You’re not sure what his next outburst may entail. You also really didn’t feel like being hurt today.

“It’s fine.”

“You didn’t...even look at it?”

“I said it’s fine. Are you deaf or just stupid?” He snarled, voice box hissing right along with the sound. In some ways it freaked you out. A snake and a wolf mixed together, that’s what the sound reminded you of. Yet it still felt strangled. As if he hadn’t quite wanted to say it, or maybe he was tense?

“Okay okay, look, it’s getting pretty late. How about we pick this up tomorrow or something. I don’t want to overwhelm you.” You sighed and stood up. He didn’t move to follow and simply watched as you brushed your pants off. You turned to the garage door for a second, shouldn’t Gregory have been back by now? He was probably fine.

“I’ll get those blankets for you now, okay?” You don’t bother to wait for a response as you make your way out of the room. The past hour had been rough. You knew the second you saw his aggression that things would be hard. You just didn’t expect him to be so guarded, a hatred for humans was just icing on the cake. Maybe you could convince William to let Freddy stay at your place? Maybe they knew each other? Would that even work? Then again it might just piss him off that Freddy escaped the crumbling building before he did.

Now that you thought about it, what was he like before? There’s no way he was like this when taking care of children right? Maybe you could find some information about it online, see if you could find any threads or pictures. It shouldn’t be too hard. Well, unless the company cleaned out any information regarding the animatronics. Though you doubt it would be completely empty. There’s a saying that you’ve lived by ever since you discovered abandoned things. There’s nothing in this world that doesn’t leave a digital footprint.

You pulled out your phone, continuing to make your way to the cabinets in the guest bedroom. Inside of them were various pillows and soft blankets so of course you grabbed two of the softest blankets inside and swung them over your shoulder. Your eyes still trained on your phone as you typed whatever you could to find information about Sun.

‘Sun robot in kids place?’ Nothing.

‘Sun robot for children?’ Nothing.

‘Daycare animatronic?’ Nothing.

‘Sun animatronic in mega pizzaplex?’ Bingo.

A few various threads of information and pictures revealed themselves to you. Well, at least you’d have something to read later tonight. Just then you got a text from Gregory, you opened it and to your surprise him and his dad were together. You told him not to worry about the food and to stay with William, they hadn’t seen each other in so long it was only fair. He agreed but promised to make it up to you tomorrow. He’d probably buy you breakfast. You sighed and slid the phone back into your pocket for later, making your way back to the garage.

“I’m back!” You called and gently opened the door. There he was right in front of it, his chest obscuring your view. Oh wow, he was much taller then you realized. You craned your head up to look at him and for a moment you just stared at each other. The soft clicks and whirring from his chest reminded you of a clock counting down the seconds, each moment passing with the soft ticks. You let out a small breath as he slid backward, his hands tensing and releasing. He was stood to his full height in some ways it was oddly...attractive? Oh, ew, don't think about the robot like that.

“These are yours.” You take the blankets off your shoulder and hold them out for the animatronic to take. He hesitates for a moment but simply snatches them up after. He didn't say thank you or anything, he just turned away and waddled off to a corner. You should’ve known better then to expect any form of appreciation, let alone any acknowledgment. You nod lightly at him in a silent goodbye before leaving the cold garage.

Of course you immediately made your way to your bedroom, feet padding against the hardwood until finally you slipped into your room. The soft click of your door shutting behind you caused the tension to release from your body. At last you could relax, you flicked the lights off and flopped down against the soft mattress. A frustrated puff escaping as you rolled into your back, phone in hand. You were much to lazy to change. Why not do some research on Sun while you were awake?

You scrolled through the various threads of information, mostly basic things like how he liked stickers and glitter glue. In some cases you’d find an odd new bit of information, he hated messes and refused to let the lights turn off on the daycare. You hope it’s not a fear or anything since the lights in your house shut off at the same time every night. It was the best way to conserve power and the only way you’d fix it is going in the basement. You hated that fucking basement. It was cold, dusty, dark, and filled with weird shit the last owner of the house had left behind. So you’d love to avoid that step completely.

At last after about an hour of scrolling, the lights flickered off. The house was quiet and you settled even deeper into your bed. As long as Sun didn’t need you, you wouldn’t worry so much. He’d have been screaming in fear by now, right? Unless he didn’t want to bother you? You decided that you’d let him come to you if he needed something and continued your aimless scrolling through threads. At last, you stumbled upon a blurry picture with only a few words as the title. ‘The Sun becomes The Moon.’

“What the fuck is that?” You mumble and bring the screen closer to your face. It seems whoever was holding the camera was making a run for it from...was that Sun? No. That was the same faceplate on the inside of his skull. Was it a light sensor kind of thing? Was it coded to scare out intruders or something? Why were its eyes so red? You clicked on the account and scrolled through the various blurry images they had of whatever had happened to them. They were all of being chased or the occasional still of a robot standing in a hallway. At last you found a contact number for questions. You had so many-

Wait.

You know that number.

That’s Gregory’s number.

How the fuck did Gregory have these pictures? He said he barely knew about the pizzaplex when you broke in. That he hadn’t met Freddy before his dad brought him home. Did he lie to you? Was this person using your friends number? A loud creaking noise drew your attention to your door before any more thoughts could race through your head. The knob turned and slowly the wood scraped against the floor. Okay why was Gregory trying to get in at this hour? No wait- Gregory is out tonight. Is that Sun?

A single large hand clamped around the doorframe, nearly cracking the wood with its rough grip. A figure cloaked in darkness came into view just barely. What? Who the fuck? His fingertips were tinted a dark blue and your heart began to sink at the realization of who it may be. It only began to beat faster as the creature's head turned up to meet your gaze. A pair of glistening red eyes met yours, that same thick bow you’d hand-painted still around its neck. As the next words fell from its mouth your world finally grew quiet.

“Naughty girl, Naughty girl, awake at this hour.”

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@crystal-freak24 @plaguerat44 @ahmya-4

@avid-main @lethalbeautiful @blippy-blop

@ch8rrybl0ssoms @vexdris @midnightmoi

@polypandragon @therron @rea-is-here

@esseegg @euximoniia @the-invincible-mikey

@theuncommoncorner @yuzuhasbae

@theilluminatidragonqueen @clownfuker

@acewendino @pristella-m @smikys-stuff

@rinqui @mysmesforlife

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If you do not see your @ but know you asked to be added, I couldn’t @ you!

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#fnaf x reader #security breach x reader #fnaf au #female reader #female reader insert #moondrop x reader #sundrop x reader #sunnydrop x reader #the fear known as

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yandere-sins · 3 years

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Good evening or morning (wherever you are).... My request for today is Kaeya from genshin impact. What if he were to confess his love to a timid reader but *gasps* she reveals she has a boyfriend already. Smut is fine if you want.

Thank you so much 🦋

Thank you for requesting!! ♥ Part 2 of my trying to get back into smut OTL

Rated Lemon/Explicit!

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Even after everything that happened, you weren't able to forget the look on Kaeya's face as you broke the news.

True, you and your boyfriend had wanted to keep your relationship on the low, but not because you tried to deceive your friends, just so you two could have some peace while finding out more about each other and developing your feelings. But you never meant for anyone to look at you so... disappointed. Even if you were happy with your choice of partner, having to reject someone dear to you still hurt.

"Oh, [Name]," Kaeya sighed, shaking his head. Of course, he wouldn't be happy to hear the person he just asked out confess that they had a boyfriend. Perhaps especially because you two had always been relatively close, even more so lately where you were out almost every day after work. You felt a tinge of regret not telling him earlier. Save him the embarrassment you assumed he must feel. Then again, how could you have known that the charismatic Kaeya had feelings for you? He could have any woman in town, so why had it to be you? Of all people, you wouldn't have expected Kaeya to confess his love to you. Even if you two always got along fine, you thought yourself to look rather gray next to the shining knight that Kaeya was. Someone who wasn't fit to be anything more than friends with him.

"W-We can still continue being friends?" was the best and stupidest comfort you could come up with on the spot. You saw his grimace of disapproval, and it took him a second to collect himself, taking a deep breath before pushing himself away from the wall he had leaned on after learning the truth. Kaeya truly appeared devastated by the realization that you were taken already, and part of you could understand him. Certainly, you had just ruined his night and whatever companionship you two had, just because you couldn't have been more open from the beginning. It would have at least saved him some heartache, if any.

"Friends?" Kaeya mumbled, unfolding his crossed arms as he walked back to your side, leaning on the backrest of your chair. Feeling uncomfortably cornered, you stood up, looking around you. The outside of the tavern was lonely, and Kaeya had chosen this place for his confession surely to avoid any curious listeners. There were still voices coming from inside Angel's Share, but the streets of Mondstadt were quiet at this time of the night, with only his smooth voice reaching out to you. "With all due respect..."

Wrapping his fingers around your chin, you were forced to look up, staring right back into the mocking expression of your 'friend', the mood suddenly shifting. You had regretted having to reject Kaeya's feelings before, Kaeya always having been a good friend to you and hurting him felt wrong. But you would come to regret it much more that you went outside with him, away from the safety of the masses.

"I'd rather be anything else than your 'friend'."

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"Come on, Dove! Say it! I'm better than him, aren't I?"

"N-No--"

Your attempt to refuse this assumption was meekly interrupted by your loud gasps as Kaeya pushed forward. The curve on his cock was so perfectly aligned inside of you, constantly hitting the good spots whenever he plowed it inside. A cocky grin was on his face as he showed you off in the reflection of the mirror before you, spread over his legs and hanging in his grip on you. It was the biggest taunt he could think of, constantly reminding you how good you were feeling despite your initial refusal of him.

The image inside of the mirror wasn't one you had ever seen of yourself. That sweaty, drooling mess of a human, eyes unfocused and yet filled with pleasure, was nothing you could relate to. And yet, except for the occasional blue strands of hair falling over your skin and peeking out from behind your shoulder, your brain recognized the sight as you. Still, it was hard to accept this side of yourself, especially with his marks and hands. All. Over. It.

Kaeya only laughed as you tried to refute him, smirking a cocky grin from behind you. "Oh? Did Mr. Boyfriend not touch you yet? Even though you're such a little slut?"

His hand falling between your legs, Kaeya first brushed up your thighs, causing you to squirm from the sensation. His hands were trained and roughed up from handling swords, but the way he used them showed how skilled he was. Settling at your clit, he slowed down the rocking of his hips for a moment to get his fingers wet with your juices before picking up the pace again. There was no way you could deny how you were feeling after riding him for the better portion of time ever since he brought you to this city apartment of his, your body shivering and moving on its own with his hand teasing your clit, the additional pleasure riling you up.

"Look at your cunt gaping open for me~" he purred, opening your lower lips wide for the mirror to reflect your exposed entrance. Seeing how his shaft disappeared inside you clearly, you only felt hotter from embarrassment, turning your head which was quickly caught by his free hand, Kaeya turning it forward again - painfully so. His grip wasn't even close to how he had touched you before when you two had still been 'only' drinking buddies. You weren't sure how long he had feelings for you, but you wagered that these feelings must have changed much in the last hour, just like his touch. It once had been so gentle, kind. But now, it was rough and demanding, leaving no room for how you felt.

"Let go!" you said firmly, tearing yourself from his grip to avoid looking at this strange self in the reflection. You felt ashamed and embarrassed. Kaeya made a fool out of you, now that he had you in this peculiar situation. It's not like you wanted to cheat on your boyfriend and betray him in any kind. But your body reacted positively to it, making Kaeya chuckle as you tightened around him after seeing yourself, "You are enjoying it a lot, aren't you?"

It brought tears to your eyes, knowing it was Kaeya deeply lodged inside of you, but your sobs were just another incentive for him to continue. You couldn't even blame him for that - they did sound a lot like sounds of pleasure that overtook their place. Soon you were back to gasping and moaning, glad you at least weren't begging him for more with how shameful you behaved.

"You can still leave him," Kaeya suggested. Though a smile still played around his lips before he hid them behind your shoulder, kissing it tenderly, he sounded very serious. "Leave him and stay with me. No one needs to know what kind of slut you are, going behind his back."

"But I didn't!" you sobbed. "You forced me too-- You forced yourself on me!"

Without hearing the sigh falling off Kaeya's lips, you found yourself breathing in sharply as he made a sudden push, burying his cock even deeper inside of you, the base of it touching your body. The gasp was followed by a long moan, tears streaming down your face after he exploited your sensitivity so much. It was a regrettable, disgusting moan signaling how much you enjoyed him hitting these sweet spots of yours.

Your gaze fell back to the mirror, showing the pleasure-stricken expression on your face. Even though you knew you shouldn't feel this way, Kaeya simply seemed to know all the right things to do, and he used all of them. It was bitter, but he did make you feel... erotic. Made you feel like something you never saw yourself as. Something your boyfriend couldn't make you feel.

With him, it was sugary-sweet puppy love, but with Kaeya, there was so much more. Desire, carnal at that. Love, demands, obsession. No matter how either of you moved your body, it was exciting, making your heart race. Every glance at yourself in the mirror made your body tingle, and every one of his pushes sent waves of excitement up your spine. You wished to have experienced these things with the person you truly loved instead of the hawk watching you from behind.

"I know," he mumbled, his hands driving up from your pussy to your chest, giving your breasts an equal squeeze. Taking in a sharp breath, you held back, instead having Kaeya be the one to groan lowly into your shoulder as you tightened around him. "I'll take so much better care of you than that boy. I can make you your true self, don't you think? You're wasted on everyone but me."

"Just finish it," you breathed heavily, and Kaeya sighed.

"As you wish."

Picking you up by the legs, Kaeya hoisted you up into the air, taking a few steps forward to stand right in front of the mirror. It was a breathtaking sensation to feel his cock carving you out from the dynamic motions, your walls gladly welcoming every inch before confining his member inside. You really could do without a closer look at how his cock slid in and out of you, sloppy sounds and tingling sensations running through you, but it almost made you wonder if you'd be able to experience the same sensations that Kaeya put you through, ever again once this was over.

"Hope you're ready for what you wished for," he reminded you, and you instantly began to realize alarming innuendos in his choice of words and the teasing tone of his voice, struggling in his hold.

"N-Not inside!" you yelled at him, slinging one arm over his head to be the one to tightly grip his face this time. "You can't cum inside!"

"Oh, really?" he taunted you. You squeezing his cheeks together didn't change the fact that he could grin like a Cheshire cat out of fairytales. "Give me one good reason not to."

"I can't bear your baby! I just can't!"

Grinning even wider, Kaeya let you drop a few inches to kiss your nose. "You'll need to do better than that."

Biting your lip, you thought about what he could want to hear from you, eventually realizing the level you'd have to stoop to. A baby would ruin everything, especially if it was Kaeya's baby. Even if things wouldn't turn out the worst way possible, it would still be a lifelong reminder of this ordeal he put you through. Your pride was worth nothing in exchange for the future you always wanted to have.

"P-Please..." you mumbled, the quick pace with which he was ramming into you making it hard to speak. At the same time, it urged you to hurry, as it wouldn't be long now before he'd fulfill the deed inside of you.

"I can't hear you~"

"Please don't cum inside me!"

Halting abruptly, Kaeya looked at the mirror image of you two, thinking for a split second before he resumed the pounding--this time, determined to finish. It was almost like you were hit by thunder, every movement releasing more shocks through you. You were a panting mess, but Kaeya wasn't far from it either. His eye would close halfway as he sunk into pleasure with you, both of you falling deeper and deeper into this hole.

Until it was finally over, your body curving and stretching, Kaeya's grip tightening to hold you throughout your orgasm, fingers digging into your supple thighs. Closing your eyes, you felt like flying, carried by a cloud, away from all the bad things and surrounded by the comforts and excitement that only intimacy could cause. You were almost lost in the orgasm before a part of you recalled the danger that was Kaeya, but much to your relief, when you opened your eyes again, he pushed in deep for the last time before suddenly lifting your up and off his cock.

Spurts of white semen shot through the air, landing on your reflection's stomach almost exactly where it would have landed inside of you. Both of you huffing, exhausted and spent, you watched as it dripped off the slick surface, leaving its stains there rather than inside of you.

Kaeya finally dropped you down, your legs unsteady, but his hold never ceased and kept you up. "Thank you..." you muttered, finding it hard to believe that after all he did, you were still thanking him for not cumming inside. Finding yourself in his arms rather than the ground, you refused the kiss he wanted to plant on your lips, instead turning your cheek, but Kaeya didn't seem to mind.

"I think you owe me something," he whispered into your ear before you felt his teeth bit into your lobe, making you flinch. "I did pull out like you asked me to."

"I owe you nothing, you... you bastard! You fiend! You...!" Your feelings took the upper hand as you heard what he demanded from you now. It was hard not to raise your voice when he dared to tell you about what you owed him after taking you against your will.

Laughing out loud, Kaeya quickly composed himself again, pretending to be hurt. "Ouch. I didn't know you knew these kinds of words."

A sudden rough pull in your hair yanked your head back, your body arching under the force and pressing against his while Kaeya towered over you, never letting his gaze stray from you. "Call me what you want. I don't care what you think, I'm not your friend, remember? I am anything but your stupid, little friend."

This time he took your mouth as he pleased, ramming his lips into yours and slipping his tongue down your throat. When he finally spoke again, his words were nothing but threatening to you, an anxious knot building in your stomach.

"That's why you'll break up with that asshole, you understand?"

"Why would I! Just leave me alone! You had what you wanted!"

"You still don't understand it," Kaeya sighed, releasing your hair briefly before tangling it around his fingers again, pulling you back even further and making you fear your spine would snap. "You are what I want! You belong to me! I was nice this time, but I will change if I must. Break up with him and make it easy for both of you. And then you'll come back to warm my bed, understand?"

Gulping, you put on a brave face, trying to face his stare head-on. This was getting out of control; you couldn't let him win with all his endeavors! No matter how you thought about Kaeya before, this wasn't the man you had come to like and appreciate in the past. He was something, but you could only hope it was still a human.

"And what if I don't?" you asked, using all the courage left inside of you.

"Oh darling, believe me," he laughed, unexpectedly pulling away all of his hands, your body unable to keep itself up and plummeting to the floor. Instant waves of shock and pain hit you, but when he stepped between your legs, you couldn't help but look up to him. How could you have been so wrong about a person you spent so much time with? Who was this man claiming to love you?

"You will do as I say, or everyone will know what kind of slut you really are. Especially your fine boyfriend. Who do you think the people will believe - their charming cavalry captain or some random chick that was seen laughing and hanging around him a lot?"

You opened your mouth to protest, wanting to prove him wrong, wanting to tell him Mondstadt cared about you as much as they did about him. But... was this wrong to assume? Would they really believe your word against his? With a reputation like Kaeya had, would you stand a chance to win against him? You couldn't imagine living a different life than you had so far, so would you be able to deal with the branding of a cheater? Realizing these questions, you closed your mouth again, scrambling to get up and collect your clothes from the ground. You were ready to storm out of the room, just go home and forget about everything that happened but reaching for the doorknob, Kaeya approached you from behind, holding the door shut with his hand.

"Don't hate me too much, okay? I really, really love you, [Name]."

He sounded anxious as he whispered these words against your head, leaving a trail of kisses. How could you believe this? How could you believe any of what he was saying? Just now, he had forced you into a level of intimacy you hadn't been ready for, threatened you, and made demands. And now he came to you, showing these rare moments of vulnerability and insecurity that made you special before all of this went down. What could you still believe about Kaeya?

"This isn't love," you mumbled, twisting and turning the knob to leave, deciding you couldn't listen to his voice anymore.

"You'll come to understand that this is love," Kaeya chuckled. You could hear the bittersweet smile on his lips as he planted one more kiss on top of your shoulder before he pushed himself away, letting you escape into the night.

Only when the cold, fresh air engulfed your heated body could you finally collect your thoughts. Your body ached, and yet, it tingled with every step, remembering you of the pleasure you had experienced through him. Disgusted and appalled by yourself, you made your way back home, crying the whole time, wondering what went wrong.

It was all Kaeya's fault, right? He went mad and did these unspeakable things to you. He was jealous because you had a boyfriend already and rejected him. None of this was your fault... right? But at the same time, would he make these threats come true? Was there really no other way than to break up with your boyfriend? Could you do nothing but obey his demands if you wanted to keep living your life? Was the love he had for you really love?

These questions kept you up all night.

All while Kaeya sipped on his drink, satisfied with himself, studying the image of you he had in his mind and the cum stains on his mirror. Stains he only planned to add to but never get rid of.

Just like you'd never get rid of him.

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sixeyesgojo · 3 years

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I’ll Be Your Enemy

Summary: Gojo Satoru is willing to do anything for you. As long as it helps you heal from what haunted your night.

Pairing: Gojo x Reader

Word count: 2,019

Content warning: implied but unspecified mental illness, mentions of self-harm (scratching), mentions of character death

A/N: Kind of stumbled upon this masterpiece of a song and I thought it would be ideal for some Gojo HURT. This entire thing takes place after the Cursed Womb Arc, so to say: after Yuji dies.

Song: Be Your Enemy by Taemin ft. Wendy

PREQUEL HERE: Pictures of You

Quickly, quickly. The key was inserted into the keyhole and turned. The door lock clicked faintly, signaling that the door has been unlocked. Satoru made sure to open and close the door softly as he entered the familiar apartment. Putting the spare key into his pocket, he slid out of his shoes. Usually he would have made some big noise to ‘announce his arrival’ but not this time. He left his shoes neatly at the genkan of the residence and slipped into the white slippers that always stood by the wooden door, an extra pair just for him.

23 minutes ago. “Hello?” Satoru had picked up the phone. “Gojo-san! Finally the call went through. I’m glad I am able to reach you now,” the voice on the other end said. “Yo, Ijichi, what’s up?” Satoru greeted. He had been sent to a pretty rural area of Japan to get rid of some pesky curses and the cell phone reception was poor in that place, so it wasn’t surprising that calls didn’t go through at times. In addition to that, some curses that manifested had an electrical ability, which impaired the cell towers at place even more. Almost as if planned. “Gojo-san, I think you need to come back as fast as you can,” the man with glasses on the other end of the line stated calmly. “Why?” was the only thing the white-haired sorcerer said in response. Somehow, he had a strange feeling in his gut. The tone in Ijichi’s voice didn’t do anything to calm this odd feeling either.

“It’s L/N-san. Something horrible happened and I don’t think she is taking it well. I did my best to calm her but I’m at wits’ end too…” Ichiji explained vaguely. Satoru was experiencing a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time - his stomach churned, it felt like his guts were wrenching inside him - at the mention of your name. “Ijichi,” he said in a relatively calm voice. He was lucky his voice wasn’t betraying him by showing what he truly felt in that moment. Satoru’s feet were set in rapid motion. “Stay calm. I need you to explain to me what exactly happened.”

Gojo Satoru might be many things. A tease, a teacher (supposedly), a cruel man, a strong sorcerer, a crazy coach, a walking menace to some, protective, an inspiration to a handful, a venti-sized manchild, idiotic, a sweets maniac, a lifelong student to Yaga, playful, a pillar of the Jujutsu world… but most importantly, he was a caring person. This goes without saying for his students and especially his loved ones. What Ijichi just said on the phone had left his heart stinging in his chest. He was in the kitchen, leaving the bag he brought with him on the table.

“Alright. I will tell you what happened, Gojo-san.” “I am listening.” “I am not sure if you are aware that this happened,” the suit-clad man began, “but one of the missions that was originally assigned to you - a case of utmost priority of a cursed womb - was suddenly taken off of your pile and reassigned…” Satoru’s eyes narrowed underneath the black fabric. The beginning already left a bad taste in his mouth; missions assigned to him were usually first grade or even special grade and he knew all too well that there were nowhere enough first grade, let alone special grade, sorcerers around. So who had it been assigned to? “...to your three first-year students,” Ijichi finished with a sigh. The sickening hotness of rage filled Satoru’s whole body. Already having realized the scenario that must have taken place, he still asked for confirmation, “What grade?” “...Special grade. One casualty.” The picture that you had taken of him, his first years and yourself (so carefully hung up on your wall at home) flashed in front of his inner eye. He clenched his teeth so hard as he wordlessly hung up; it hurt. It hurt so badly.

Such an atrocious inhumane act coated in malice. He was going to kill these dirty-playing bastards. However, that would have to wait until later. Much later. Satoru couldn’t leave you to your own devices, not in this state. The scenario he concluded for himself earlier replayed in his mind several times as he made his way through your completely dark apartment. His heart stung with each beat. It was almost as if someone drove a blade through his chest repeatedly.

When he stood in front of the closed door of your bedroom, he heard soft sobs coming from inside. Should he knock to let you know someone came? He wasn’t sure what to do. He gave the door two soft knocks and entered the room. It was your hunched form on the bed, no doubt. Satoru could not see your face with the way your back was facing him. Slowly he made his way to your bed and crouched down to face you. Your face was swollen and tear-stained, a sight he didn’t see often. His large hand rested on your shoulder and gently rubbed it, a silent question hung in the air.

Finally, you looked at him with your swollen eyes. Almost instantly, your sobs got louder and you reached out for the tall sorcerer. “S-Satoru…” you hiccuped in-between sobs. “Yeah. I’m here, I’m here,” he reassured you and stroked the wet hair out of your puffy face as you threw yourself around him, relentlessly crying into his broad shoulders. The white-haired man enclosed his arms around you but it wasn’t to hug you for comfort.

He scooped your delicate frame up and wrapped a warm blanket around you before leaning your body against the headboard of the bed. He sat next to you on the bed and guided your head onto his shoulders. Your violent sobbing stopped but tears were still flowing freely.

If there was someone who understood the agony, bitterness and distress someone in this line of work had to face, it was Gojo Satoru. The path of a Jujutsu Sorcerer was painted black and red by trials and tribulations. This was why Satoru was so hell-bent on resetting the world he called his obligation. “If you feel exhausted, just lean on me for a second,” his calm voice sounded through the room. There was no answer from you. Even if there was silence, your feelings reached his heart and he spoke again. “Do you want to tell me about it?” he asked gently. Let it go with me. It’ll be easier to shake this burden off and share it, he thought. Of course, he would never dare force you. You nuzzled into his shoulder, as if to get even closer physically.

Ultimately, the woman sucked in a breath and with a shaky voice and recounted everything in her point of view. “I-I.. was on a mission when I… got a call from Ijichi. ‘Something wasn’t right’, he said and… t-told me about the cursed womb. As soon as I heard… that they sent y-your students there, I rushed to the location but…”, you hiccuped, “...I was too late… Y-Yuji, he-” You sobbed hysterically into his shoulder. Satoru turned to you to wipe away the tears and snot with a tissue. “Shhh, I’m here, I’m here”, he reassured once again, “I’ll fix it somehow.” It was just as he thought: those damned higher ups.

“H-How? This is not… something… you can f-fix, Satoru… not even you,” you continued bawling into his shoulders. I’ll kill all the higher ups, he thought to himself. “I don’t know but I’ll be damned if I can’t do something to change this detestable, loathsome and bloody world we live in,” his voice seethed with anger but it quickly died down as he re-focused on the main topic at hand, “there has to be something I can do, I’ll even drag out Sukuna myself if I have to.” “Please, Satoru…” Your whisper was faint and weak, “I… saw Yuji’s corpse... on the ground... I just want to see him one last time…”

Being a Jujutsu Sorcerer undoubtedly put a heavy strain on your mental wellbeing; nobody was spared from it, not even the great Gojo Satoru. Unfortunately, you were one of the people who were much more affected by incidents like these. He realized how badly it hurt your heart, he knew how much all the students meant to you and he knew just how much more fragile you were than you let on in front of other people. Where there is light, there must be shadow. It wasn’t like he was left unscathed by it either but right now, his utmost priority was you.

“Right,” the male sorcerer murmured more to himself. He still had to check something. “I want you to show me your arms, please.” If this had been a command, it had to be the gentlest one you had ever heard. Maybe it was the fact that there was a hint of pain infused in the way he spoke to you just now that made you show your arms so willingly, or maybe it was the fact that he always sounded so earnest when he took care of you like this. He genuinely cared; it was something you shouldn’t be surprised about, considering how long the two of you have known and cared for each other, but it never ceased to leave you in awe. You held out your arms for him to see.

As carefully as possible, the man examined your arms, his touch ghosting over your skin. It was a good thing he came prepared. The angry red lines, dry blood and broken skin on both of your forearms seemed to scream at him: you hurt yourself again. Without a doubt, he felt guilty. “I’ll be right back,” he announced as he slipped away from the bed after fixing your position and stroking your hair tenderly. A few moments later, your tall friend was back with a few medical supplies. Sitting back on the bed, he started to clean and treat your injuries. Besides a few hiccups and whimpers from your side, silence befell the room.

“Don’t you want to curse and insult me?” His eyes were still fixed on bandaging your arms. “No,” was all you said in response, fearing that your voice would give in. “You should though. After all, it was technically my fault...” Even though you were hurting, you knew Satoru was hurting all the same deep down in his heart, seeing that his precious students were the victims in this case. Satoru really treasured disciples. You took a few deep breaths before you replied, “Please don’t ever blame yourself for this… I know you wouldn’t have… let this shit happen. I know how much you adore them.”

“If it makes you feel better... if it can help you heal, I’ll take it. Any words are fine. I can deal with all the painful words…” Strong arms wrapped around you and pulled you to his chest. It was rare but his voice… unmistakably cracked for a second. A shaky chuckle left your lungs, “Please Satoru,” you wrapped your arms around him as well and nuzzled into his shirt again, “I could never treat you like that. You are everything to me but an enemy. Have always been.”

“I’ll be anything you need. I’ll even be your enemy if you ask me to… so please tell me, so that it doesn’t hurt you anymore…” he said shakily. The blindfolded man had masked his pain up until now, for your sake. It was your time to comfort him. Giving him shelter, like he had done for you. He had already experienced far too much hurt.

“Satoru, all I’ll ever need you to be in my life… is the important and comforting presence you have always been. Don’t change. If things are too much, too overwhelming and you become tired, you can lean on me too. I will never leave you.”

There was nothing left to say, no need. It was enough for both of you to be in each other’s comforting presence.

Taglist: @gojos-mochi @megumifushi @bleueluna

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo angst #angst #gojo satoru angst #song fic #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #jjk #tw: death #tw: mentions of death #tw: mental illness #tw: self harm #taemin #inspired by taemin #shinee #ibye series

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yslkook · 3 years

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IF I GOT YOU (7)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: one month later...and things start to come to a head. you feel more at peace than you've ever felt, but as usual, what remains peaceful is always interrupted.

pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc

warnings: cursing, alc, excessive use of pet names, HELLA HELLA toxic friendship and dynamics, suggestive content (hooking up and other mentions)

word count: 4066

a/n: if you want to be tagged, send an ask plz. would love to hear your thoughts

Despite a month going by from the last time you spoke to Jungkook in the park and put all of your feelings out in the open, spring air, you feel lighter than ever. Maybe most of that has to do with the simple fact that you’ve finally cut out a toxic, deadweight from your life. Regardless of what ends up happening with you and Jungkook as friends or more than that, at least you are at peace and happy with being yourself.

Besides, it’s not like you don’t ever see him. You see him when you visit the tattoo parlor (but you haven’t allowed yourself to be alone with him and he hasn’t initiated), you’ve seen him at impromptu nights out, at Yoongi’s apartment. Neither of you allow yourself to be alone with each other, since you had both agreed to wait. Even your text message thread with him is dry, though.

You miss him, hoping that a notification of his name with the bunny emoji attached to it flashes across the screen. But it doesn’t.

For all of his bravado, he feels somewhat shy around you on the few occasions that he’s seen you. Jungkook will go out of his way to avoid you, hiding (as much as he can) behind Mina and Mei.

He misses you. Jungkook misses the feel of your lips molding against his, the way you felt in his arms, but most of all he misses your shy smile and your loud laugh. He misses the way your eyes shine when you speak about something you’re passionate about.

Mina had said you were both being stupid, taking time away from each other when you both are denying the inevitable. But it made sense in your mind and his. You want to know what kind of person you were without the burden of Sora’s judgment weighing heavily in every frame of your life. You take the time you need to take to recenter yourself and feel somewhat whole again.

It doesn’t take you long to adjust to life without a former best friend. You quickly begin to notice how different you feel, how differently you approach basic things that you hadn’t really put much thought to before.

It feels so refreshing to not feel like you’re walking in some metaphorical shadow of someone who didn’t really care about you. Well, you think on some level, she did care. But along with the insignificant way she made you feel, it’s not enough to justify it. And you’re really grateful that you don’t need to anymore.

In fact, you’ve already deleted most pictures with her on your social medias. You haven’t quite been able to block her yet, but you think you’ll be ready to do that soon enough.

The ever elusive notion of time really does seem to heal nearly all forms of hurt.

“So,” Yoongi starts, sitting next to you on his new black leather couch and handing you a glass of red wine.

“Don’t start with me,” You say, poking his shoulder.

“I’m not starting anything with you,” Yoongi shrugs, but his eyes twinkle.

“Oh? That’s the voice you use when you have gossip or when you’re about to interrogate me,” You mutter, rolling your eyes with a fond smile.

“Maybe it’s a little of both,” Hobi chimes in, sitting on your other side. He leans back and drapes his legs over your lap, to which you instantly rest your hands over his legs.

“How lucky for me,” You mumble, taking a long swig of your wine. You’ll need it.

“How’s that witch doing,” Yoongi asks bluntly.

“I don’t know, I told you I cut her off and kicked her out of my house like a month ago,” You reply, “Did you forget already?”

“No, I just like hearing that you finally came to your fucking senses,” Yoongi says, “She was awful, but I’ll commend you for sticking it out for this long. Cheers, the witch is finally gone-”

“I believe the phrase is, ‘ding dong, the witch is dead’, but this will suffice,” Hobi says and yelps when you swat his shoulder.

“Don’t be rude,” You say, “But… thank you for helping me see the light. Even if it took a while. And I’m sorry it affected our friendship, too.”

“Ah, well, we’re all here now,” Hobi says, pulling you in for a side hug.

“Yeah. So cheers,” Yoongi says again, raising his glass to you both, “Cheers to you for choosing yourself. And to new beginnings.”

“You’ll make me cry,” You say honestly, offering your friends a watery smile.

“As if we’ve never seen you cry before,” Hobi scoffs. And it’s true- they are two of your oldest friends, and even if you’ve come to the realization that maybe you hadn’t been the greatest friend to them… That bond is hard to sever, and you’re grateful that they’ve always had your back.

“Drink up,” You say with a smile, “Cheers to new beginnings.”

Yoongi has always been a little sly, unassuming but always with several tricks up his sleeve. When he so desires to cause a little mischief and stir the pot a little. And Hobi is all too happy to engage.

Which is how you end up several glasses of red wine and rose deep (yes, you mixed, rookie mistake but who cares. You’re in the presence of some of your greatest friends, after all).

And then Yoongi goes in for the kill.

“How’s our Jungkookie,” He asks, without missing a beat. You choke on your wine and wince when it somehow gets lodged in your nose.

“I don’t know. Think he’s good,” You finally respond, your words sounding slurred, “Ask Hobi. They work together, if you didn’t know.”

“Oh, thanks for the information. I had no idea.”

“Happy to be of service,” You say, leaning into Hobi's side, “Ikindofmisshim.”

“What was that? Didn’t quite catch that,” Yoongi says, a self-satisfied smirk blooming on his lips. He heard you, of course he did, but you don’t seem to pick up on it.

“I said I kind of miss him,” You reply, a dreamy look in your eyes, “Do you think he misses me, too?”

Hobi chokes back a laugh but you hear it and offer him a glare. “Don’t make fun of me!”

“Nobody’s making fun of you, stupid,” Yoongi says poking your forehead, “And yeah. Your man doesn’t shut up about you. Always with those eyes around you.”

“He’s not my man,” You whine pathetically.

“Yeah, that’s a mystery to both of us,” Hobi says, “How long are you both gonna keep this up?”

“Keep what up?”

“This weird awkward dance you both do around each other. Avoiding each other when we’re all together. It’s kinda funny, like we all know you both wanna fuck so bad-”

“Shut up! That’s- that’s not- shut up!”

Yoongi and Hoseok both burst into laughter, drunken giggles loud in the living room and you can’t help but laugh with them.

Clubs were never your most favorite place to unwind, but you make an exception for tonight. For Mina and Mei, you’ll make an exception. The three of you had gotten ready together in Mei’s home, in between sips of cocktails that she had poured out. Mina had done your makeup for you, giving you the sharpest eyeliner you’ve ever seen on your eyelids as well as a bold red lipstick.

It’s not a club night if there is no red lipstick involved, after all.

Your makeup usually looks good when you apply it yourself, but Mina has a genuine eye and skill for makeup artistry. You recall her telling you that she’d always dreamed of going to beauty school but hadn’t pursued it. You had told her that it’s never too late to fulfill a dream and she had only smiled at you.

“Hey,” You say, “Is Jimin coming tonight? How’d your date last week go?”

“It was really good,” Mina says, something sweet in her voice, “He made me dinner and dessert. And then I sucked his soul from his cock an hour later and he even made me squirt. And yeah, he’s coming tonight to the club. We’ll see what happens...”

“Wow,” You nod, listening with wide eyes, “That sounds amazing. I’m really happy things are going well for you both. Including the horny stuff.”

“The horny stuff?” Mei laughs, “You’re cute.”

“Shut up,” You say, playfully shoving her shoulder, “It’s no joking matter that he made you squirt.”

“Yeah, I high fived him after,” Mina says slyly, “It was… a night. Can’t wait to have another night like that. But I’m gonna make him work for it tonight.”

“As you should,” You nod solemnly, “What about you Mei? Are we drinking until we blackout or are you playing hard to get with Seulgi?”

“Who says we can’t do both?” Comes Mei’s muffled response.

“Cheers to that,” You reply, “Are… Jimin’s roommates coming?”

“You think you’re slick, huh?” Mina snorts, “You wondering about Jungkook?”

“N-no, I haven’t seen Taehyung in a while either-”

“Tae’s coming, but Jungkook isn’t. Something about having a long week and wanting to chill at home.”

“Oh, gotcha,” You say, cheeks ablaze as you avoid her eyes. Unable to hold the slight sting of disappointment from your voice.

Mina and Mei see right through it but they say nothing, only handing you a refill of your now empty glass.

Despite the relatively steady stream of drinks in your hand (an illusion, really, you’ve been nursing the same two drinks all night), you’re almost completely sober. In fact, you’re more tired than anything else. It seems that Jungkook had the right idea to stay home tonight. You’re rather benignly jealous of his decision.

You enjoy dancing and singing with your friends, feeling the thrum and excitement of music and your close companions bursting through your veins.But environments like this overwhelm you sometimes. All of the flashing lights, sometimes smoke and all of the people… Tonight seems to be one of those nights.

“Wanna dance?” Comes a rich, velvety voice behind you to the right. It’s Taehyung, and you’d rather dance with Taehyung than anyone else in this club. With the exception being Jungkook, but he’s not here right now.

“Okay,” You nod, taking his hand when he offers it to you. Your thoughts flit to Jungkook briefly.

Taehyung is good company, always keeping you with a smile on your face and filling you up with laughter. He keeps you close with easy, gentle movements as you both belt out the words to whatever song is playing on the speakers. But Taehyung has always been observant.

“You don’t really wanna be here, huh? I’d take it personally, if I didn’t know you,” Taehyung teases.

“No, it’s not that,” You murmur, “Just have never been a big club goer, that’s all. Jungkook had the right idea in staying home.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung muses, “What are you two doing?”

He’s almost as blunt as Yoongi (who’s also in some corner of the club. Usually, he keeps you company at things like this, but conveniently, he’s nowhere to be found.).

“If I knew I was going to be interrogated in this club, I would’ve drank more,” You say dryly. Taehyung laughs at that and squeezes your shoulder.

“You both deserve to be happy. Just want you to know that.”

“Thanks, Tae,” You say, a grin spreading across your face, “I guess you’re not as sleazy as Mina says you are-”

“Me? Sleazy?” Taehyung gasps, pretending to be affronted. You roll your eyes and offer him your hand.

“Wanna dance?”

Taehyung turns you around and holds your hips tightly in his hands, dancing with you to the beat of the music. It’s nice to be held like this, even if it’s a little dirty.

You don’t notice a pair of sly eyes watching you from across the club.

By the time you excuse yourself to catch a breath and grab some water from the bar, you realize that most of your friends are off doing their own thing. It gives you a second to people watch from the second floor of the curb and lean on the railings, taking in your surroundings. Despite stifling a yawn.

You relish in the cool feel of the icy water flooding your senses, waking you up a little more. You wonder if you can convince Yoongi to take you to get fries or tacos after the night ends. At the thought of tacos, you salivate a little.

But your taco fueled fantasies are broken when a few girls try to push past you to get to the bar. You mumble a soft apology, but it goes unheard. The unmistakable sound of a voice, a voice that you’ve only recently been able to put out of your mind, breaks through the barrier and it makes your heart drop.

It’s an angry call of your name. Your stomach churns, and suddenly you’ve never wanted to learn the art of teleportation more.

Sora, in all her bitter glory, stands in front of you with a full drink in her hands. Beside her are two of her friends, looking resigned and trying to plead with her that they should go.

“Missed me so much that you followed me here, huh?” Sora sneers.

“I’m not even going to entertain that with a response. Or you for that matter,” You say tiredly, trying to step past her.

“All your friends left you. Look at you all alone,” She says and you roll your eyes with a dry laugh.

“I’d rather be alone than have anything to do with you, Sora,” You reply easily, “I’m leaving now-”

But she sidesteps you again, gripping your forearm and looking at you with so much animosity that it makes your skin crawl. Had she always looked at you like that?

“I can’t believe you just dropped me like nothing. After I gave you everything,” Sora says, as if you had said nothing at all. She’s clearly a little drunk, telltale signs of her drunkenness clear on her face. Her words are slurred and she stumbles a little on her feet. You cringe. You don’t want to have this conversation with her whether she’s sober or drunk.

“You treated me like I was nothing,” You snap, “I don’t want to discuss this with you. Now let me go.”

“Or what? There’s nobody here ‘cept you and me, babe,” She says, her lips twisting into a cruel smirk. Her friends have disappeared and warning bells start to go off in your head. She’s right, all of your friends have dispersed. But you manage to fish your phone out of your purse while she rambles to you and send a text to the groupchat, simply stating “pls help, Sora is here”.

Dread seeps into your pores. You just want to be done with her presence.

“Sora, just let me go. Nothing you say will change anything,” You say heatedly, “Fucking let go of me!”

You try to yank your arm out of her grip but her nails are sharp against your skin.

“I loved you, you know that? I fucking gave you everything, you were my best friend,” Sora hisses, “I just wanted to you be happy. To see that I’d do anything for you.”

It takes a minute for the dust to settle but you suddenly begin to understand. “You hurt me! That’s not friendship or l-love, or anything remotely close to it. Nothing you say will change that. I don’t want you around anymore. Take a hint, Sora,” Your voice is cold and deadly, nothing like what Sora is accustomed to.

“Please, let me go,” You beg softly, “Why won’t you let me go?”

Tears spring into your eyes, both from the force she’s holding you with and from how much this is exhausting you.

“What does he have that’s worth all of this?” Sora hisses.

“It doesn’t matter what he has. I like him and I enjoy spending time with him, that’s all that should matter, and I’m not explaining Jungkook to you,” You say coldly, “You lost the right to know a long time ago. If you took your head out of your ass for two seconds, you’d know that this friendship was over months ago.”

By now, both of your voices have raised in volume and pitch, attracting the attention of bystanders. This makes no sense to you, your head is starting to hurt from the implications of her words. You just want to go home. By now, Yoongi has seen your text and is trying to get to the bar to rescue you from Sora.

“He won’t give you what you need,” Sora exclaims.

“Shut up! Just fucking stop talking about him,” You shout, “I’m so fucking sick of this, just leave me the fuck alone. Your opinion doesn’t matter to me anymore, just drop it!”

You feel the need to defend him though, “He’s kind, he has a big heart a-and, you know what, I don’t need to explain myself to you. Just fucking drop it! Leave me alone!”

“You are so fucking blind! You’ve always been such an oblivious fucking bitch,” She screams at you and your blood goes cold. You’ve seen her angry, but not like this not when her eyes are blown over with rage.

Yoongi’s heart is beating in his ears as he tries to find you- this club is fucking huge, where the hell could you be? He’s already sent a text to Jungkook, telling him that you might be in trouble at the club and that nobody could find you.

“Where is he then? If he’s so kind, he must be here right?”

“What the fuck is your problem? You’ve always had a stick up your ass about him specifically- I mean you’ve always have a stick up your ass, but with him it’s like something crawled up there and died-”

“You couldn’t even cuff him? You dropped me for him and you didn’t even cuff him?”

“That’s none of your business!”

“What are you afraid of, babe?” She sneers cruelly, “Afraid he’ll find something he doesn’t like? Or are you afraid you’ll find something that you don’t like?”

Frustration and hurt boils in your belly, causing wetness to pool in your eyes. You shut your eyes tightly, willing the feeling to go away. With all of the calmness you can muster, you throw her hand off of you and rub your forearm gingerly.

Before you can say anything, her eyes narrow to slits. You don’t even have time to react before you feel a sudden wetness drench the front of your top. Remnants of her drink are splashed on your torso and you gasp, rage flaring through your veins once more. How dare she throw her drink at you? Before you can do anything though, a pair of arms circle your waist and you’re pulled into a strong chest.

You recognize the scent of his cologne immediately and the feel of his leather jacket. “Jungkook,” You mumble, looking up at him. He immediately gives you his jacket and pushes it through your arms wordlessly.

“Hi,” He murmurs, taking in your wide, nervous eyes and the trembling of your hands. He brushes a thumb over your cheek before standing in front of you and you take his hand in yours. Jungkook squeezes reassuringly.

He offers Sora a long, hard look and a shake of his head. She almost balks at his intense gaze. Almost.

“C’mon baby,” Jungkook finally says, “Let’s get out of here.”

“My knight in shining arm-” You shiver once you’re both outside the club, away from the eyes of strangers. You cut your train of thought off when he pulls you close to him, cupping your cheeks with both hands. Worry dots his eyes and he presses his forehead to yours shakily.

“Jungkook?” You say softly, “Is everything-”

He exhales, a shudder felt against your skin. He seems to be at odds with himself, an internal battle dancing in his dark eyes. But Jungkook makes up his mind and cradles your face again, the gentle pads of his thumbs brushing over your cheeks.

“I missed you,” Jungkook croaks, “Shit, I miss you so fucking much. Can I kiss you, baby? Is it okay if I kiss you?”

You nod instantly, breathing out a soft ‘yes’. Whatever this recent development means for both of you, it makes sense. You want this and you want him.

And then he kisses you as if it was meant to be, as if he’s been thinking about your lips every minute of every day- soft, balmy lips against your chapped, red lips. Jungkook swallows your gasp, somehow brushing against the parts of your heart that missed him. His kiss is sweet and desperate as his tongue traces over your teeth before dipping further into your mouth. Your knees weaken slightly, but he holds you steady with one arm around your waist and his other hand cradling your cheek.

You’re overwhelmed by him and from the events of the night. Whatever wetness had gathered in your eyes clings to your lashes before dropping down your cheeks.

“Baby,” Jungkook says softly. He gathers you in his arms, hugging you tightly. You sink into his hold on you, inhaling deeply. The faint thrum of his heart calms you slightly.

“I missed you,” You reply, voice barely above a whisper, “Fuck, I missed you a lot.”

He kisses your forehead with a small smile, the hint of his dimples making you smile, too. Jungkook looks at you as if you’re transparent, trying to study the reason for your wet lashes and the tear stains down your face. A feeling of understanding passes between you both, calming your racing heart and your nerves.

“Jungkook,” You murmur, “Take me home.”

“Yours or mine?”

“Yours,” You reply, not really wanting to be in your home just yet, “It’s only fair, since you spent the night at my place last time, right?”

“I guess I can’t argue with that,” Jungkook chuckles. He kisses you one more time before adjusting his motorcycle helmet over your head. When you wrap your arms around him, you press a kiss to the back of his neck and behind his ear.

He shivers.

Jungkook can tell you’re in your head a little bit, a little quiet and shaky. Even as you head into his bathroom to change into the clothes he’d given you, you couldn’t quite meet his eyes. When you returned from the bathroom with a bare face, you’re lost in thought, biting down on your bottom lip and chewing harshly.

He’d pulled you into his arms, applied his clear balm on your lips, and chided you for treating your lips like that.

You only smiled weakly at him and meekly asked him to hold you under his covers. He doesn’t deny you.

He’d caught the tail end of Sora’s tirade at the club, and he’d begun to understand. He thinks you had begun to understand, too.

“Hey,” Jungkook whispers into your hair, “Do you want to talk, baby?”

“I don’t know what to say,” You admit softly, pressing your hand over his.

“I can talk for both of us,” Jungkook says, kissing your temple, “Can I do that?”

“Yeah,” You mumble, threading your fingers through his and squeezing.

“I heard some of what Sora said,” Jungkook says and you tense up but he wordlessly tells you to relax, “I think in some weird, twisted, fucked up way. She loved you and her way of showing you how was keeping you to herself. It’s shitty, but it made sense to her. But you don’t owe her anything, baby. Not a damn thing.”

“Yeah,” You sigh, “I feel really gross and I don’t know why.”

“That’s alright, baby,” Jungkook says, rubbing your arm, “You didn’t know. That’s not love, not really. You’re safe here.”

“I know,” You say, turning to look at him with a small smile, “I trust you.”

You turn fully in his arms, resting your head on his chest and wrapping an arm around his waist. His heartbeat lulls you to sleep, as well as his gentle fingers over your back. It’s so easy with him, and you don’t need to think too much. Just how you like it.

Tags: @kookdbean @codeinebelle

MoM Tags: @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria @kaepjjangiya @drumsofheaven @ppeachyttae @tae-bebe @yiyi4657 @mygscafe @beeeetsandskzreads @maichiverse @hordanhearsawhooo @anonymous2505

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x you

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midnightwinterhawk · 3 years

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I put together a little collection of Sterek and Steter fics for funsies. “Just a few fics”, I thought, “nothing too crazy.” Thirty fics later I had to cut myself off and finalize the list. You can thank @the-cookie-of-doom for the inspiration.

These primarily fall under the Hurt Stiles Stilinski category because I apparently like to see my comfort characters suffer. Most of these have hopeful/happy endings but mind the tags. For reals.

Placed under a cut since I have no self control and this turned into a long post.

Sterek

adore to see your eyes fly by @1001cranes

(11,309 l E)

stiles is a pyromaniac, derek is a sociopath. a match made in some kind of heaven. teen wolf kink meme fill.

take my heart from me by @areiton

(23,188 l NR)

He didn't really mean to adopt Derek's pack of puppies. He didn't mean to make himself important to them.

To Derek.

He just wanted to keep them all safe.

That's all Stiles ever wanted.

"Why Can't You?" by @asterekmess

(3,602 l T)

Now. This was happening now, and he couldn’t be less prepared.

After a long night, things between Stiles and his father come to a head.

And You Say You're Alone by bi_leigh_bi

(30,314 l E)

Between the kanima, the Argents, and Peter's untimely return from the dead, everything has fallen apart. Stiles and Derek try to put their lives back together once the crisis has passed. Stiles deals with the aftermath of being tortured, and the distance growing between he and Scott. Derek attempts to become a stronger alpha and keep his pack safe, and that includes Stiles.

A Victory March by @churkey

(2,688 l T)

When Stiles is eight he learns that nothing will be the same. His dad comes home one day after work and sits Stiles down for a talk. He explains that werewolves and all the monsters are real.

They're real and not hiding under anyone's bed.

Bury the Moon by darthjamtart

(16,592 l M)

First things get bad. Then they get worse. Stiles doesn’t know what he’s sacrificed until it’s too late.

Dying is the easy part.

Love's Violent Delights by @dexterous-sinistrous

(10,685 l E)

Derek caught the way the man’s eyes looked over Stiles before lingering on his ass. He waited for the clerk to place the key on the counter before he reacted.

Stiles startled at the loud noise, turning away from the pamphlets in the display box to see Derek pinning the clerk’s head against the counter. He drew in an even breath, looking between the struggling man and Derek.

Derek briefly looked at Stiles, hesitating before he saw the gleam of excitement in Stiles’ eyes and the hint of lust in his scent. “Ever look at him, or any other Omega, like that again, and I’ll slice your eyes out with my claws.” He shoved the man back, not caring of the commotion that was made as he snatched up the key from the counter.

Empty by @discontentedwinter

(48,034 l M)

Jordan Parrish is the new sheriff of Beacon Hills, a town haunted by its past.

Your Vision Borrows Mine by hazyascent

(188,781 l E)

Stiles has encountered a fair share of monsters before, way out of his league - the kinds that children are afraid are hiding in their closets and under the bed.

He’d even become one himself when he was void. The nogitsune was in his house, his body, and his mind.

But the worst monster he’s ever faced took even more from him and got away with it.

It’s why Stiles has never really been as terrified of werewolves and kanimas and darachs as he should have been. They’re really not that scary, relatively speaking, and he has a whole team on his side. They always found a way to win - until they lost someone they really loved.

Stiles doesn’t know how to be normal, not after everything he’s done and everyone he’s hurt. The nogitsune is gone, but another monster is on its heels.

His uncle is back. And Stiles has never felt more alone.

It Was a Wednesday by @isthatbloodonhisshirt

(80,129 l M)

“What happened? Where are you? What’s that sound?”

Derek jumped, having momentarily forgotten Scott was on the phone with him because Stiles had started moving. He’d stalked over to the other side of the cave, still eying Derek warily and growling, then settled protectively over a mass of clothes, leaves and animal innards. It was probably where he was sleeping.

Lovely. No wonder he smelled like death.

“Stiles,” Derek said, answering Scott’s question. Or, one of them, at least.

“Stiles? What do you—Stiles is making that noise?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“How fast do you think you can make it to the south lot of the Preserve?”

Tiny Houses by @ohmyjetsabel-blog

(77,183 l E)

"So this is what Stiles does. He lies in Scott’s bed and waits for Melissa to say she’s found someone to get it out of him, to cure him of the wrongness and the bad, and he dreams.

God, he dreams.

He dreams of fire and swollen bellies and that scene in Alien, of giving birth to jackals through his urethra, the whole horrific nine yards. His head is a terrible place to be, he can’t imagine his stomach is much better, why anyone would want to put a thing inside of it."

I'm There in the Water by @spaceprincessem

(15,878 l T)

“But it’s—” Derek paused, his words unsure, “it’s not like us,” he swallows hard, chin dipping to his chest in frustration, “it’s like a…”

“An abomination,” Stiles finished, nodding his head as he finally lets his gaze really look at Derek since Scott had pulled them from the water.

He suddenly wished he hadn’t because the way Derek looks at him makes Stiles feel like he is ten years old again. Like Derek is seeing him for the first time since they accidentally fell into each other’s orbit all those years ago. Like Stiles isn’t a burden or invisible.

Like he is enough.

Or five times Stiles felt like he was drowning and the one time he finally caught his breath

Gunplay is Not Really Our Kink by theroguesgambit

(2,577 l M)

“The rules to the game are simple. One bullet, six chances. You pick it up and take turns pulling the trigger on the other man, or we gun you both down right now. You play along, only one of you has to die. Fun game, huh?”

Derek and Stiles are captured by a group of hunters and forced to play a twisted game that only one of them might walk away from.

The Price by theroguesgambit

(18,452 l M)

Stiles must surrender the most important thing in his life to protect the town… and no one can figure out what it was.

Nieważny by Zethsaire

(2,037 l E)

The pack is gone, everything they've ever cared for destroyed. Now Stiles and Derek hunt the hunters, taking revenge in the only way they know how; blood.

Steter

Make Me Bleed by @asarcasticwitch

(2,304 l E)

Peter’s expression contorts, impressed or surprised, Stiles can't decipher, but the grin on his face proves he’s not exactly disappointed with the unexpected turn of events.

“Which bite exactly were you hoping for, hm?” The older man curls one hand around the back of Stiles’s neck, trailing his thumb along his pale, fragile throat.

Stiles tilts his head back in unyielding submission, giving the wolf no room to debate his sincerity. “I’m sure you can figure it out, Alpha.

Two Roads Converge in a Graveyard Town by @cywscross

(15,645 l T)

The Deadpool brings one more assassin to Beacon Hills. A man's gotta eat after all.

when you're going through hell (keep going for me) by cywscross

(57,022 l T)

Peter is abandoned in the aftermath of the fire, and Eichen House takes ruthless advantage. Six years later, when he's finally able to move again, he finds himself in a cell with a boy in a straitjacket.

(Kate’s biggest mistake was letting Peter live. Eichen House’s biggest mistake was letting Peter meet Stiles.)

Don't Fail Me Now by @discontentedwinter

(36,315 l E)

Stiles goes to Derek looking for help.

He finds Peter instead.

Peter takes what he's wanted for a very long time.

Sanctuary by DiscontentedWinter

(56,525 l M)

The Hale Wolf Sanctuary isn’t just for wolves.

It turns out it’s for Stilinskis as well.

Bite Down by EclipseWing (@shadow-of-the-eclipse)

(27,586 l M)

In which Stiles is forced to survive the zombie apocalypse with a sociopathic murdering werewolf for company.

Into Eden by @graciebirdie

(12,232 l M)

Stiles deciding to bring home the stray alpha he'd hit with his jeep probably made him certifiable, if it hadn't turned out Peter was as crazy as he was.

Before you let go (and the light takes you in) by Issay

(4,032 l E)

Stiles makes one last errand - goes to leave flowers on all the other graves. Fuck, so many graves. The grief is as endless and as inescapable as the sky.

He goes home and there is a thing wearing his father's face, waiting for him in the kitchen.

Call My Name by KouriArashi ( @gingersnapwolves )

(81,370 l M)

After moving to Beacon Hills, Stiles starts having recurring dreams of a man in some kind of prison, who needs his help. Things get so bad that he ends up in Eichen House, where he finds out that the man is real.

Hide my tears in the rain. by MrsRidcully

(6,865 l M)

After years spent successfully dodging werewolves, evil spirits and wendigos, it was a drunk driver who stole his Dad, a drunk driver with a suspended license and a record sheet as long as Stiles’s arm. Stiles would have laughed at the irony if he hadn’t been so busy screaming.

In My Veins Like Disease by romanoffbarton

(1,140 l T)

He tries to leave once.

Foreshock by @twothumbsandnostakeincanon

(22,816 l E)

The day Stiles’ mom died, he almost leveled his house.

Not on purpose. Not even by mistake, really. More by instinct.

Since then he's dug his fingers into everything his has left, holding on with desperation.

Desperation never stopped an earthquake.

Your Touch is My Choice by twothumbsandnostakeincanon

(2,171 l T)

The first time John does it, Stiles is two years old and about to run into the road.

“Mieczysław!” Heart pounding, John grabbed him by the back of his neck and got a hand around his tummy, snatching him back. “No, you have to stay away from the road,” he said firmly.

Shameful Company by Whispering_Sumire (@whispering-sumire755)

(38,779 l E)

"Did I turn into a unicorn?" Peter asks dryly, and Stiles glares at him for a moment before the laughter bubbles up, unbidden, nearly unwilling, and he looks so surprised at the sound, his shock dimming it for a moment before it bursts through with even more trembling ferocity. A long, thin, willowy hand curls into a soft fist over his mouth, and he's shaking, frail, more tears falling, but the copper of his eyes are glowing, crinkling around the edges and scrunched with mirth.

"No," Stiles chokes, chuckling wetly. "No, fuck you, a unicorn? What, like, Rainbowcreep? Zombiesparkle?"

[About a year before the fated Hale fire, Peter starts having nightmares that involve a woman with red hair. The nightmares lead to a spell that brings a man back through time, and, eventually, though the time-traveler is traumatized in the most horrific ways, and Peter's never been good with or for people, in general, they develop a bond that neither of them expects.]

Would You Forgive Me If I Called You Hope, Peter Hale? (Hope, By Any Other Name) by Whispering_Sumire

(10,099 l T)

Stiles has scars. He owns that, he accepts it, he's cataloged and memorized every single one, he's hyper fucking aware of them all.

"What do you want, Peter?" Having the more untrustworthy of the Pack getting protective weirds him the fuck out, leaves an odd fluttering in his chest, like moths, waiting perilously and suicidally to be burned.

He doesn't like it.

"You're injured," the man says, "and whatever it is, it's put you in enough pain that I nearly fainted when I-"

"- Used your werewolf mojo on me without my permission?" Stiles smirks, and Peter gives him a black look, crossing a leg over his knee and smoothing out some invisible wrinkle on his pants.

"Tell me the truth Stiles, how bad is it?"

[Or: The one where Stiles has scars, is more than a little fucked up, and Peter notices. He helps.]

#hurt/comfort #angst #dark #hurt/no comfort #angst with a happy ending #fic rec #be kind to yourself and mind the tags #Sterek #Steter #Stiles Stilinski #Derek Hale #Peter Hale #hurt Stiles Stilinski #Sterek fic #Steter fic #to the pain

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pies-writes-and-more · 3 years

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Hey I have a request!! Can you write a scenario with Bokuto, Tsukishima, and Sugawara where reader has a LOT of moles/beauty marks? I have 5 on my face alone, 3 in a line on my neck and more. It makes me insecure because it looks weird. Anyways, thank you sooo much! I absolutely love your writing!!!

Warnings: potential swearing as usual, insecurities about beauty marks/moles

Characters: Bokuto Kōtarō, Sugawara Kōshi, Tsukishima Kei, all with a Gender Neutral Reader (let me know if you find something gendered so I can fix it!)

A/N: thank you for the request darling! Sorry for the long wait!! Hope this is what you had in mind :) Also, all of them are right: you are beautiful!

Haikyū Masterlist

You didn’t understand why Bokuto seemed to only ever kiss your face exactly where you didn’t want him to.

You could stand in the mirror and point out things you didn’t like about yourself but your beauty marks were something you were self conscious about. You used to cover them up with light makeup every now and then but lately you hadn’t had the time or patience for it, so you just avoided looking at them.

But Bokuto, even after months of being together, seemed to somehow feel the opposite. He would press a kiss exactly on the moles on your face and when you were in private, he’d kiss the ones falling down your neck. He seemed so infatuated with them and you could never understand why.

One day he caught you trying to apply makeup again, finally sitting down and trying this new method that could cover up anything according to a makeup artist you’d seen on social media. His eyes wide and you could’ve sworn his hair drooped, “What’re you doing???” He screeched, immediately snatching your makeup from you.

“Bokuto!” You whined, huffing as you paused the YouTube video playing in front of you to pout up at him, “Give it back!”

He shook his head like a four year old, stomping his feet slightly, “Why’re you covering them?” He asked you, hands on his hips now.

There was no point avoiding the topic now. You sighed and glanced at yourself in the mirror, half of them covered and the other half just staring you in the face. “They’re ugly,” you whispered quietly, avoiding his eyes.

“Ugly?” Bokuto scoffed and sat down next to you, hugging his knees to his chest and setting your makeup down. “How could they be ugly?”

You had heard this before. All of your friends and family always went, “No Y/N, you’re perfect!” But it was always so fake. You knew they were just saying it to be nice.

But Bokuto just paused, watching you for a moment and handing you back your makeup. You blinked up at him in surprise, noting his small smile. “If it makes you feel better, go ahead. I want my love to always feel their best. But...” he let out a nervous sort of chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “I really like them,” he admitted sheepishly.

You knew he was being honest just because of the rosiness that was touching his cheeks. He squirmed in his spot, now avoiding your gaze. “Why?” You asked after a moment.

Bokuto straightened his posture for a moment before carefully choosing his words, “Someone once told me they were places your partner kissed you the most in your past lives. And...” he hesitated, cheeks glowing red now. “And I’d like to think I was with you in every one of our past lives so I want to keep kissing you there so you’ll love me in our next life too!” He blurted out quickly, rocking a little in his seated position.

You just stared at him. Sure you had heard of that little theory too, but you hadn’t ever had someone seriously retell it to you. But hearing it from him... you looked at yourself in your mirror again. It didn’t change how you felt about them. You still weren’t a huge fan. But hearing Bokuto genuinely love them... at least it lessened your insecurity about him hating them.

“I think you’re beautiful, Y/N,” Bokuto continued after a second, smiling at you and scooting closer to you. “If you need this makeup to help you see how beautiful you are, then go ahead! But I think you’re the most perfect human being out there!”

Your eyes teared up slightly, just hearing how sure he was. He smiled at you, pressing a kiss to your cheek before immediately looking through your makeup bag, “Can I try?” He asked excitedly, holding up a mascara tube and lipstick.

“You want to try wearing it or putting it on me?” You laughed, your face no longer feeling hot with embarrassment and shame.

“Both!” Bokuto grinned, begging you to teach him what each product was. He always knew just how to cheer you up, no matter what.

He knew you still disliked your marks, but Bokuto would continue to kiss them every chance he got unless you ever asked him to stop. He still wanted to recognize you in his next life, so even if those weren’t the marks you’d have, maybe he could give you some others you’d like more.

Sugawara’s fingers always traced over the beauty marks on your face, beaming when he pointed out that you two were twins for having moles together. He always had a smile on when he talked about it, always spoke about it so proudly like it was a mark of status or beauty.

But unlike Sugawara, you weren’t all that proud of it and you didn’t just have one. You often just gave him a smile and switched the topic, and though you always loved the feeling of his fingers dancing along your skin, sometimes you’d pull away to do something or distract him with something else if you felt like he was touching your marks too much.

He hadn’t realized it before, but came to the realization that maybe you didn’t like your marks when he caught you editing a picture of the two of you, your fingers magically causing those little spots to just disappear.

“What’re you doing?” Sugawara frowned, hugging you from behind and peering from over your shoulder.

“Just editing that pic of us before I post it!” You told him happily - it was such a nice photo and with a few simple touches, it would be perfect.

Sugawara watched you for a little longer, confirming his suspicions before knocking you on the head with the side of his hand.

“Hey! Suga, what the hell?” You groaned, rubbing the top of your head slightly. “What was that for?”

“Stop erasing my baby!” He shouted at you loudly, making you laugh nervously at just how loud he was being.

“I’m not erasing your baby!” You insisted, shaking your hands in front of you. “Just... my marks.”

Sugawara’s frowned stayed on his face as firm as ever, “They’re a part of you. And I love all of you. I love every single inch of your skin, whether you have a mark or not. I love you because you’re not like a cookie cutter version of a person, you stand out in the most beautiful of ways. I want you to be different, I want you to draw all the attention so I can say that one is mine.”

You smiled a little at his words, hearing the conviction in his voice. But your eyes glanced sadly at the photo, just wishing you didn’t have them.

“Hey,” he spoke softer this time, touching your chin up to look at him, “If you really don’t like them, fine. We all have our insecurities after all. But please don’t tell yourself you’re less beautiful because of them.” His hand slipped your phone from your own, peering at your editing work. “You looked like a completely different person,” he admitted with a sort of sad smile. “Still beautiful. But different. I like the version I have here with me.”

Sugawara’s arms were suddenly wrapped around you in a rib-crushing hug, his voice telling you firmly all the things he loved about you and how much he wanted to scream to the world every single thing that made him crazy about you. Eventually you were practically unable to breathe in his arms as they just got tighter and tighter and the two of you fell on the floor laughing after wrestling for a bit.

The photo is eventually posted unedited like he wanted, and now when you look at it, you feel just a little bit more loved, regardless of your marks.

Tsukishima knew even before you two were going out that you were self conscious of your marks. He didn’t think there was anything wrong with them, to be honest, they made your face that much more attractive, but you hated them so he always pretended like they weren’t there for your sake.

But he had caught you picking at one of them, as if absentmindedly thinking you could tear it off and everything would be okay.

His eyes narrowed as he realized what you were doing, reaching over to swat at your hands, and glaring at you from across the library table where two of you were supposed to be studying.

“If you start bleeding, I’m not taking care of you,” he scolded you, though you knew for a fact that he had started keeping bandaids in his bags for you cause sometimes you were that clumsy.

“Sorry,” you responded sheepishly, folding your hands in front of you in an attempt to stop picking at them. Your eyes focused on the sheet of paper in front of you, but you weren’t able to actually pay attention to anything on it. It was like an itch you couldn’t get rid of, an obnoxious little bump in your otherwise relatively smooth skin. Why did it have to be there?

Tsukishima watched as your eyes stayed still on your homework, obviously not actually reading anything. He sighed and reached over again, poking at your nose, “If you think I’m going to let you destroy your grades and your perfect body, I’ll hit you harder than I have before,” he threatened. He meant to say it gentler, in a somewhat more supportive and comforting way but his words were still as harsh as ever.

You gave him another shy smile, trying not to show just how uncomfortable you were, “They just get annoying sometimes,” you told him after a moment when he didn’t immediately go back to his work. “I feel like if I could tear them all off... maybe I’d look better.”

Tsukishima’s nose scrunched up slightly in annoyance, tilting his head up so his eyes were glaring down at you, “Do you think I’m going to let anyone talk about my partner like that? Idiot, if I heard those words from anyone else I would have your head by now."

You laughed a little, thinking about how Tsukishima got upset if anyone even said something remotely mean about you (”The only one allowed to bully you is me, Y/N, forget anyone else’s opinions. They’re all beneath you anyways”), “I just feel so... spotted with them. I feel like everyone always looks at them and there’s so many of them I can’t even hide them all.”

Tsukishima listened, he really did. He didn’t wave you off like usual and tell you to forget your insecurities because you were definitely the most perfect person out there so you had nothing to be insecure about. He listened and then just sighed, leaning back in his seat slightly and watching you.

“I think you’re magnificent,” he stated quietly, his eyes dashing away from yours as a blush brushed over his cheeks and nose. “I don’t want you picking at them because you’re just going to hurt yourself and I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” He paused for a second and then finally met your eyes. “Yamaguchi used to hate his freckles, but it’s probably the thing that I notice the most about him. They fit him so well in a way that I can’t describe. He wouldn’t be the same without them, he’d just be... someone else. Without your marks, you’d be someone completely different. I’m in love with you and all of you.”

You watched him as Tsukishima actually told you his emotions and spilled his love for you, a smile gracing your lips eventually, “I love you too, Tsukishima,” you mumbled after he finished, playing with your fingers.

“You better. Now come over here and give me a kiss before we start studying again,” Tsukishima smirked a little and you just rolled your eyes. You were going to argue back that he could just lean over the table and kiss you but he refused so you ended up having to go over to him, where he just pulled you on your lap and placed a quick kiss on your lips then on all the marks on your face. “Now go study.”

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@al0ehas @aurumk @devilkittymusic @thisnoodlewritesao3 @satan-ruler-of-hells @trashy-simp @jeppiet @lucyheartfilias-wife @darkvadeeer @haikyuutothetop @wolfishwriting @livy384 @babyshoyo

#bokuto x reader #sugawara x reader #tsukishima x reader #bokuto kotaro #bokuto kotaro x reader #bokuto x y/n #bokuto x you #sugawara koushi #sugawara koushi x reader #sugawara x y/n #sugawara x you #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x you #tsukishima kei x you #hq tsukishima #hq fluff #hq x reader #hq fics #pies writes

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peachysamu · 3 years

Text

Summary: just Grandma Yumie being the greatest wingwoman there ever was

Pairing: Kita Shinsuke x fem!reader

Word count: 1.08k

Genre: fluff, the usual

You sigh at the screen before you, having been sat at the patio of your favorite café for almost two hours now. Starting your work at seven in the morning, you brought yourself outside a few hours later hoping that a new environment would stimulate motivation to finish your work due in the next couple of days. The fresh breeze is nice and the ambient noise of life ever so lulling, but anything is far more interesting than the assignments in front of you.

Such as the grandma before you scuttling stiffly to fix an imbalanced table tilting back and forth with just the smallest bit of pressure.

“Grandma, do you want to sit here?” You call, standing up with the intention of helping the older woman out. “My table is stable. I don’t mind moving.”

“Oh no,” She smiles through huffs until she successfully places a napkin underneath the shorter leg. She gives the table a small push, a satisfied grin upon her face when it obediently stays put. “I’ve got it.”

At that, you can’t help but smile at the woman whose age is probably older than she looks as you sit back down. Even through her rigid movements, it is obvious she is self sufficient, even if stubbornly so.

Staring back at the screen before you, your fingers hover above the keyboard having lost your sense of thought due to your distraction.

“Thank you for offering.” The older lady calls to you again. You look up to find her, a vision of mirth through closed lids. “That was very kind of you.”

A warm expression, “Of course!”

“I may be an old woman, but I still can do things on my own.” There’s fondness in your chest as she continues the conversation with you. Her words may be strung together slowly, but you’re astounded by the way she creates human connection so easily. Where people your age are consumed by their own selfish needs, protected in a bubble they’ve surrounded themselves in, this stranger easily concocts conversation like she’s known you for so many years. You think the candidness is nice for once.

Grandma takes a sip of her water before continuing. “My grandson has been awfully protective over me lately. He won’t let me do anything.”

You laugh at the way her face scrunches at the last sentence as though her grandson has been the bane of her existence. “My legs were feeling a little tense so I went for a walk the other day. Just a small one to the farmer’s market nearby.”

Now you’re absolutely entranced by the seemingly frivolous story, mindlessly picking at the egg sandwich you ordered hours ago.

“I went and looked around. I found some cabbage that looked nice. And then I stopped at a stall selling okonomiyaki. It smelled so good I had to try some.”

You’re nodding your head, fascinated by the woman’s mundane retelling. The little snippet into her lifestyle reminds you of how large the world is and small at the same time. Though you’ve never met her, and though she is years older than you, you relate to the need of hers to stop at a stall filled with the smell of savory foods.

“Then I get a phone call from my Shin-chan,” Frown lines appear when she says the name with a shake of the head, though you can tell she’s also slightly amused at the thought. “He was not yelling at me, but I could tell he was frustrated. He was asking me where I was. He told me it was ten in the morning and that I needed to get home before it got too hot! He thinks I can’t do anything on my own!”

Grandma is shaking her head furiously, but you’re amused all the same.

“I’m the same way Grandma!” You laugh with a piece of bread on your mouth. “I’m just like that with my mom myself.”

Grandma just shakes her head, indignant. “We’re independent.”

Yes, stubbornly so, you agree in your head before saying, “Of course, Grandma, but it comes from a good place. We just care about you is all.”

Grandma raises a withered hand, the most certain movement of hers you’ve seen yet. “Yes, yes, I know.”

The door of the cafe opens and a broad male figure obscures your view of the older woman as he sets a plate in front of her.

“Sorry, Grandma,” You hear him say, a soft, tender tone escaping him. “They didn’t have any fruit tarts so I hope strawberry shortcake is okay.”

“Oh yes. I was just talking to this nice lady, Shin-chan.”

Said Shin-chan turns around and then gives you an apologetic look. Suddenly, you’re feeling nervous at the sight of the subject of your conversation of the last couple minutes, surprised by the fact that he is more handsome than you imagined.

“Thank you for keeping her company,” He says. You find yourself at a lack of words, gulping and nodding at the same time.

“Ah, Shin-chan,” Grandma’s voice is playfully irritated, “Move to the side. I want to keep talking to the pretty lady.”

It’s then that heat permeates your cheeks, awkwardly letting out a nervous giggle that makes the grandson give his grandmother a quiet, scolding look.

“Grandma,” he starts, but takes the seat next to her anyways to get out of her view, “She’s probably busy. Let’s not bother her.”

“Oh no!” You interject happily, “Your grandma’s actually really interesting. I was having a good time.”

You’re being honest and it’s not because you’re looking for a distraction, or because her grandson is kind of hot. Okay, admittedly, his handsome features were some sort of factor in wanting to continue the exchange.

There’s a mischievous glint in his grandmother’s eyes. She clasps her hands together and the smile across her face tilts lopsidedly into a smirk. “Oh? Would you like to go with me to the farmer’s market then?”

Her head tilts to her grandson, “Since my Shin-chan won’t let me go alone?”

“Uh,” You laugh nervously, eyes flitting between the pair, appraising both reactions. The older woman looks satisfied while the other provides an amused look that is very similar to his relative’s.

“If you go,” He starts, “I guess I will come along too.”

Your heart beats quickly, but your hand is already finding itself closing your laptop. Yes, anything is far more interesting than your assignment. Especially if it’s the handsome, golden eyed boy and his good naturedly stubborn grandma before you.

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

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We Don't Talk (About That) [Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader]

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: None Summary: Affection has never been Cassandra's strong point- neither the giving nor the receiving of it. But when it comes to you, she's determined to try, regardless of the obstacles in her path. Notes: Spiritual sequel to Everybody Talks Too Much, but they can be read in any order. Reader is selectively mute, but ends up talking in this one, partially due to being high on a fever, oops. The reader in this one is also a lil bit sassier than some of my other ones, hence why it has tentatively earned my "blunt teeth sharp tongue" tag.

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“Seriously? You’re wearing white for this?” Cassandra says, eying you with a look of disbelief. All you can really do is shrug in response. After all, your hands are occupied with your current task: Wiping blood off of the corridor floor. That didn’t leave much room for miming, or writing anything down. “You’re going to fuck up your sleeves, you know that, right?” Another shrug, this time with an added humming noise, just for fun. Honestly, you weren’t even sure why Cassandra was hanging out, let alone why she cared if you got your shirt dirty. It’s not like she would be the one to do the laundry. More than that, she was the one who had decided to punish a maiden in the middle of the hallway.

Still, you would never think to voice your questions, or otherwise indicate your feelings. Not that you had feelings about her, or anything, the mere idea of that was ridiculous. For a completely unrelated reason you find yourself glad that she could not see your cheeks from where she stood. Glad I don’t talk, you think, otherwise I’d probably say something really stupid right now. Instead, you focus on your work, scrubbing hard at the floors. Despite your companion’s warning, not even a single drop of blood ends up staining your clothing. That’s why I rolled up my sleeves first, babe!... And that’s why I don’t talk, you think, shaking your head to clear your thoughts.

“That was fast. Sure you didn’t miss a spot?” Cassandra asks, stepping over to where you had cleaned. Before you can protest she’s leaning down to examine the floor. Which would, you know, be fine. If she didn’t have blood (and dirt, and who knows what else) on her gloves, that is. Groaning, you try to slap her wrist, temporarily forgetting your place. Next thing you know she’s pushing you to the ground, on top of you with her hand posed to strike. You flinch, instantly, clamping your eyes shut to prepare for the inevitable. But, just as quickly as she had gotten on you, she climbs right off, refusing to meet your confused gaze, refusing to answer your unspoken questions. “You’re lucky that mother thinks you’re useful,” she spat, leaving you with one last angry huff.

“What the fuck?...” You whisper, as soon as you think she won’t be able to hear you. Of all the things she could have possibly done in response… this was the only one you couldn’t justify. There’s only one thing that could possibly help you cope with your confusion: Cleaning. Thankfully, the same person who had just flipped your mind upside down had also left a few boot prints in her path. Humming softly to yourself, you get right back to work, gleefully ignoring what had just transpired.

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“Why do they do that?” Cassandra snapped, storming into the library, immediately demanding her older sister’s attention. However, Bela does not respond, merely looking up from her book with an eyebrow raised. Frustrated, Cassandra sits down at the table before slamming her fists onto it. At this, Bela sets her book to the side, realizing that she couldn’t ignore this tantrum. “Oh come on, you know exactly who I’m talking about!”

“Yes, I do, because they’re the only person you’ve given a damn about in a decade, maybe longer,” Bela replies, rolling her eyes. “But that doesn’t mean I have any clue what you’re complaining about this time. What did they do, hmm? Did they brush their hand up against yours? Make a heart with their hands again? Oh, let me guess, they smiled when you walked into the room.” At this point, Cassandra was nothing if not predictable, much to her own frustration. How often had she come to her sister, in confidence, to have this very conversation? Countless times, and never once with a clear goal in mind.

Just a head full of thoughts of you.

“They touched me,” she admits, after a few seconds of agonizing silence. The words feel heavy and wrong on her tongue, like they were coated in syrup, too sweet to be anything other than sickening. “Slapped my hand away like I was a kid sticking a fork in an outlet, for fuck’s sake! Who do they think I am?” Now those words felt better. Angrier- left a worse taste in her mouth, but easier to swallow.

“That depends, were you trying to stick a fork into an outlet? Sounds like the sort of thing you’d do to impress them,” Bela teases, laughing even when her arm gets smacked in retaliation. “Maybe you should just ask them, then, if you can’t fathom why they might touch you. Or you could simply wallow in self pity for another decade, pretending to hate their guts when really you’re desperate to get laid?”

“When did you get so rude?” Cassandra snaps, standing up with a scowl.

“Oh, probably about the eighth time we had this talk?” Bela replies, quick as a whip, smiling all the while. If she was going to have to endure this sort of thing this often, she might as well have some fun with it. But this appeared to be the end of this particular conversation, with a miffed Cassandra making her exit, once more leaving Bela to read in peace… for a while, at least.

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She can’t find you. She’s looked just about everywhere, asked every maiden she’s come across, and all any of them had to say were nervous apologies. Where were you? Why were you absent, now of all times, when she had finally decided to speak to you? Curse my luck, Cassandra thinks, barely restraining herself from wreaking havoc on her surroundings. Though maybe they’ll show up to take care of my mess, she muses, then thinks better of it when she imagines your exhausted expression. After all, there was only one place left for her to look: Your personal quarters. If you weren’t there, then, well, there’d be a new problem entirely.

“They better have a damn good reason for hiding away,” Cassandra mumbles under her breath. Then she’s opening the door to your room, not bothering to knock. What could you want to hide from her anyway? “Oh shit.” Evidently she hadn’t thought this through. There you were, asleep in bed, shirtless, a washcloth on your forehead. Every muscle in your body seemed to be shivering, and the occasional weak murmur leaves your lips. It doesn’t take more than a moment for Cassandra to act. Clearly you’re cold, hence the shaking, regardless of how warm it feels to her. So she’s grabbing a blanket from your dresser, quickly covering you with it. “Is that better?”

You don’t respond. Not that she truly expected you to. But the way you continue to shake has her even more concerned, and a trace of panic starts to set in. She searches for other blankets, laying them on top of you, confused as to why you aren’t getting better. C’mon, asshole, she thinks, I’m trying to help you! As if summoned by her frustrations, a maiden soon swings the door open, freezing in place when they see her. Instantly she’s whirling around to face them, a cruel remark dying in her throat. Of course it was one of her mother’s favorites. Eventually, she would have to find someone else to take her frustrations out on.

“Lady Cassandra? What are you-” Cynthia, senior staff member of Castle Dimitrescu, veteran of more than five years, starts to ask. But once she spies the pile of blankets on top of you… well, her eyes go wide. “Damn it, my Lady, you’re going to kill them!” With that said she’s rushing forward, setting down a basket of who-knows-what on your nightstand, before quickly removing the extra sheets. Half confused, half furious, Cassandra stands nearby, unable to decide how to react. Perhaps noticing this, Cynthia is quick to explain her actions. “They have a fever, the worst one I’ve seen in all of my years here. They may be shivering, but trust me, their skin might as well be on fire.”

“I was just trying to help,” Cassandra defends, words rushing out before she can stop herself. Fuck, this was embarrassing.

“Clearly, and I don’t blame you. Let’s just be glad that I came to check on them, hmm?” Cynthia suggests, giving an oddly motherly (i.e. reassuring) smile. On one hand, Cassandra doesn’t appreciate being talked to like this, at least not by someone other than her mother. On the other hand, well, she is glad that she hadn’t accidentally killed you. Taking a moment to let her heart rate slow back down, Cassandra moves to lean against the wall closest to you. She can’t help but frown when she sees the way your eyes flurry about beneath their lids. What are you dreaming about? Is it a nightmare, she wonders, or something softer, like you deserve?

“Can… can I help?” She asks, voice hardly more than a whisper. It was too late to save herself from embarrassment, but it wasn’t too late to contribute to your recovery. Or at least that’s what she hoped. There’s relative silence for a few moments, as Cynthia thinks over her words, swapping out the damp washcloth on your forehead all the while. When she finally replies, she does not look up from her task. Always the professional.

“Stay with them. If they get worse, come find me immediately. If they wake up, try to get them to drink some water, and ask if they’ve been injured recently. I couldn’t find any wounds on them, but this mess reeks of an infection,” Cynthia says. Opening the basket she had brought in with her, she removes several bottles from within, examining their labels with a tight-lipped frown. “None of these will do shit- pardon my language, my Lady- if it’s an infection, but it should help them fight off the fever until I can get them some proper antibiotics. Well, until the Duke can, that is. Make sure to ask them if they have any allergies to medicine before you give them anything, and please read the directions. They only need to take one kind of pill, alright? I only brought a few kinds in case they can’t have certain ones. Is that clear, Lady Cassandra?”

“Crystal clear,” she chimes, only briefly looking away from you. It’s enough for Cynthia, however, and she leaves with a simple bow. Once more alone with you, Cassandra approaches, gently taking your hand within her own. “You’d better wake up soon. I don’t want to have to babysit you all day…” Doesn’t want to, but would, if that’s what you needed. Wouldn’t hesitate for even a second. At most, she’d make someone fetch her a book to read while she waited. Except… now that she glanced around your room, she found that there were some things to keep her entertained. Like your beloved notepad.

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

What do you mean? I don’t think she feels that way about me. Don’t be ridiculous, she doesn’t like anyone. Because I pay attention to her! It’s not hard to know what she does and does not appreciate, you just need to observe her. No, not like that, don’t be gross. Keep teasing me and my cheeks won’t be the only thing around here that’s red. Oh fuck off, fine, I’ll go talk to her, but you owe me one. Then the page ends, with the next two having been torn out. A few letters here and there are still legible, on what little remains of the missing pieces. Lov- and want her- and wish. Try as she might, Cassandra cannot find the rest of the pages. What had you possibly written that would make you discard all evidence? It’s not like anyone normally went through your notepad. Had you predicted that one day Cassandra would do this?

“Damn it, damn it, damn it!” She growls, dropping the object with an angry sigh. “Who the hell were you writing about? Who were you fucking talking to? Why won’t you wake up, you goddamn asshole?” Through all of her shouting, you do nothing but shake in place, shivering against a non existent cold. Several hours had passed since Cassandra’s arrival, without you doing so much as batting an eye. Slowly but surely, she was being driven insane, exhausted from worry and jealousy alike. Strange how the most obvious answer eluded her so consistently… Yet hope does not entirely abandon her, as eventually her tantrum manages to pierce the haze around your overheating mind.

“Shhhhhhh. Please,” you mumble, eyes still closed, hardly aware of anything around you. All you really knew was that someone was being insufferable. Hell, your fever was driving you wild, and you didn’t even think about the fact that you hadn’t spoken out loud in front of anyone for over three months. Later, after you recovered, you would be glad that it was Cassandra who finally heard your voice. “Inside voice, mhm? Sleepy time…”

“Did- did you just?” Cassandra asks, stunned, shaking her head as if it might make her realize she was dreaming. But no, this was real, and you really had just spoken to her. It’s enough of a shock to render her speechless for a minute or so.

“Thanks, babe. Need to sleep this off. Or… no, wait, I was supposed to tell someone something?” You ramble, trying to sit up, a hand instinctively going to hold your head. The washcloth falls off of you, and you stare at it in confusion. Before you can start questioning the nature of it’s (or your own) existence, you are distracted by Cassandra, who has traded her own perplexion for determination. Next thing you know, you’re quietly sipping at a glass of water. Exhausted, despite having just been asleep, you eye the nearby medicine with curiosity. “I’m… supposed to tell Cassandra something, maybe? Fuck, why is it so warm in here?”

“You have a fever, dumbass,” Cassandra replies, once more finding her voice, still too overwhelmed to process what’s happening. “Look, you have to take something for your head, okay? Then we can… then we can talk about your feelings all you want, okay?” Maybe she was being a bit presumptuous about what you needed to talk about. Or maybe she was just, for once in her life, being hopeful. Regardless, she presents the medicine to you, getting ready to ask about allergies. Before she can, however, you’ve silently reached for the Ibuprofen and started opening it up.

“This’ll do. For the head, not for talking. We don’t-” you pause to take the pills, gulping down half a glass of water with them- “we don’t talk about that. Feelings. Makes her get mad, and I don’t want her to be mad,” you say, shuddering a little at the thought.

“I won’t get mad this time. Besides, you don’t normally talk at all,” Cassandra replies, rolling her eyes again. Finally, for the first time since waking up, you take a good, long look in her direction. Suddenly you’re putting the pieces together, groaning in protest when you do. How had you not realized? How deep into this fever were you?... “Don’t tell me you just figured it out, ‘babe’? I’m amazed you’re functioning at all right now.”

“Fuck you, Cassie,” you snap, mostly teasing. If she wasn’t freaking out about what you had said, well, then maybe you didn’t need to say much more at all. “You’ll still like me when I’m awake enough to be too scared to talk, right?”

“Honestly?... I was hoping this would be more of a permanent thing,” she admits, refusing to meet your gaze as she puts away the unused medicine. “But I guess I can live with being the only one who knows what your voice sounds like. So don’t you dare fucking talk to anyone else, alright?” She’s joking now, too, sounding more relaxed than she usually was. Even with your body fighting against itself, you can’t help but laugh with her. Then she’s slowly sitting on the edge of your bed, next to you, watching you with adoration clear in her eyes. “You’re going to be fine, right? Because if you die on me, I swear I’m going to kill you.”

“With you as my nurse? I’ll be lucky to last the night,” you joke, pretending to whimper when she gives you a playful slap on the arm. “Nah, nah, I’ll be alright, just as soon as I get some rest. Probably. Maybe you should, uh, stay with me? Just in case.” Next thing you know, Cassandra is pushing you down against the mattress, placing a surprisingly soft kiss to your forehead. Then she puts the washcloth back on you, making sure it’s still somewhat cold. Without another word she settles in, leaning against the backboard of the bed, close enough for you to feel her warmth, but far enough that she wouldn’t risk raising your temperature. “Goodnight, Cass,” you murmur, before letting yourself drift back to sleep...

#cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x reader #resident evil: village #re8 village #blunt teeth sharp tongue #that means the reader is a tad sassy #not quite unhinged tho #a nice middle ground in this one

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matbarzyy · 4 years

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Edge of Desire

A/N: Well, writing this has been... insteresting to say the least. This is obviously just a lot of smut, if you’re not comfortable with that please just stay away from it. I drew that header the other day just because I wanted to make a quick cute thing for this fic, I kinda like it so here it is.

Word count: 6025

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kiddos), a little dominant Mat, overstimulation, overall just pure filth

Summary: Basically plotless smut

“You went shopping?” Mat’s head perked up from the back of the couch when he turned around to see you carrying a few bags.

He knew you almost always brought something back for him, whether it was a shirt that you figured would suit him well or a few of his favorite chocolates. It was only his second day back in New York after visiting his family for two weeks while you were stuck working and couldn’t travel, so he knew he could have expectations.

He looked a little different than the last time he was home, having taken some time to let his beard grow. You had seen the beginning of it before he left, but it was grown enough to look good now.

“Mmh,” You barely answered, walking away into your shared bedroom without another word.

At that, Mat frowned.

You normally always told him what you bought, you showed off new outfits or excitedly rambled about why you absolutely had to get this new book. He pushed himself up from the couch and trailed behind you, knocking on the open door quietly before looking down at the bags.

“Got anything nice?” He forgot about your silence the second he spotted the lingerie brand logo he knew all too well. “Can I look?” Mat reached for it, not waiting for your answer because he was used to you letting him.

“No,” You snatched the bag away from him. “Be patient,”

“But-”

“No buts. You came back late last night when I was tired after work and you were tired from travelling,” You had gone straight to sleep, both of you wanting to cuddle and do more but far too exhausted for it. “So I’m going to cook us something nice for lunch, and then maybe I’ll let you see what’s in that bag,”

“What’s the plan after lunch?” Mat had a feeling he was about to like your answer.

“You can pick whatever you want, as long as it involves no other people and absolutely no clothes,”

Mat ate so fast you almost scolded him for not trying to enjoy what you had spent time preparing a little more. You made something light, knowing you wouldn’t want a stomach full of food when you were about to have sex. You knew he appreciated the efforts, and he definitely loved the food, but he was more excited about what was to come after that. You had changed after cooking, and he was sure you were wearing some new set under the silky blue robe you had loosely tied around your waist before you sat with him.

“I’ll tidy,” Mat took both of your plates to the dishwasher and hurried to put everything away. He gave the counters a quick wipe, knowing you’d tell him off if he didn’t clean properly, and a minute later he was standing in front of you still sitting at the table. “So?” He bit his lip, bouncing on the ball of his feet.

“Someone’s eager,” You pushed your chair back and got up slowly, letting the anticipation build for a little longer.

“Someone’s had to go without touching you for way too long,”

“I know, me too,” You soothed him as you took a few steps closer, setting your hands on his chest and angling your head up for a kiss.

Despite the urgency in Mat’s words, his touches were soft. He liked building things up slowly, teasing until you pleaded and begged for what you needed most.

“Can I take that off now?” He murmured into your mouth, hands at the knot on your waist. You wore this often enough at home that he knew he’d get it undone with one pull, but he still awaited your words.

“Yes, anything you want,” You looked up at him, pupils dilated with lust while Mat took in your words. You did say earlier that he could pick the plans, but this was just the confirmation he had been waiting for to take control.

“Anything I want, eh?” He pulled to undo the knot and took two step backs to admire you. “I don’t know if I want to spend the next hour leaving kisses on every inch of your skin or if I just want to bend you over the kitchen counter and keep you there until your legs can’t hold you up anymore,”

“I can’t handle a lot of teasing,” You let the material fall off your shoulders, watching Mat’s eyes trail over your whole body as you slowly exposed more skin.

“Me neither baby,” He nearly groaned when the material fell to your feet. “Fuck this is pretty, it’s such a shame that I’m about to rip it off you,”

“Don’t rip it,” You protested softly, coming close to him again to feel his warmth. There was a time when you would have been self conscious wearing so little with him fully dressed, but you had grown comfortable around him over the years. “I wanna wear it again,”

“Oh yeah?” His hands found your hips, running over your skin in a way that made you shiver. Mat smiled, he loved watching you react to his touches.

“Mmh, under a pretty dress next time there’s some charity dinner. It’ll be a nice surprise for you at the end of a boring evening,” You could already picture it, you had been in that situation many times before. Mat was sweet, he had patience, but those events weren’t worth the effort, and you had to lift his mood at the end of several nights.

“I like that,” He nodded, leaning down and capturing your lips with his once more.

Warmth flooded through you instantly, getting you to squeeze your legs together as you pressed yourself against Mat’s body. He tightened his grip on you, keeping you there as he deepened the kiss and snuck his knee between your thighs. You whimpered into his mouth quietly at the gesture, it was one of your favourite things.

Mat knew you liked to rub against his thigh whenever you made out, it had always been a thing between you, but it still made you swoon every time he remembered to do that for you.

“Please,” You gasped when his lips travelled to your neck. You needed to catch your breath from the kiss, but Mat didn’t seem to care. He hadn’t gotten to touch you in too long, and he was about to make up for it. It was still relatively early in the afternoon but you both knew this would last until night fell. “Please,” You whimpered again, running your fingers through his hair and tugging lightly as he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot.

“Baby,” He chuckled breathlessly. “What are you begging for? I haven’t even done anything yet,”

“I’ve been thinking of this since you got back, I just really need to come, please,”

“Oh love,” He gently backed you up against the kitchen counter. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll have ruined that pretty makeup crying because of how sensitive you are,”

“I don’t care, I want it,” You sounded a little whiny, but Mat did always like it when you were desperate for him.

“Mmh, promise you’ll take it all like a good girl? Even when it gets too much?” He traced his thumb over your lips, pulling your bottom lip down and letting it pop back in place.

“I promise Mat,” You gasped a little when his hand made you part your legs.

“Good,” He cupped your pussy and felt you rock against his hand.

You were already overheating, but Mat didn’t hesitate to push your panties to the side and slide two of his fingers inside of you. The moan that left your mouth made his breath hitch in his throat.

“Fuck I missed those moans,” His blood rushed straight south, and he pulled his fingers away with a groan. “Look at you already dripping down my fingers,”

“You feel so good,” You had no idea how he did it, but it never took more than a few touches for you to become a mess.

“C’mere,” Mat cupped the side of your neck to hold your head still as he brought his glistening fingers up to your mouth. You didn’t hesitate to suck them in, cleaning them with your tongue with your eyes still trained on Mat’s. “Gonna make you come,” He slid the hand that was on your neck down your body to your ass. “And then I’m gonna watch you suck on my cock just like that,” His fingers went deeper into your mouth, making you gag.

You didn’t get to say anything back when he removed them, satisfied with how well you were behaving, because he immediately used them to rub over your clit through the fabric of your panties. You caught onto his shoulders to stay up on your feet, biting back another embarrassing moan until two of his fingers found their way into you again.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” Mat mumbled against your skin, his face hidden in your neck as he bit and sucked to leave marks on you. His fingers were doing more than enough for you, curling into your sweet spot and rubbing it over and over again, but you couldn’t help and think of how amazing his lips would feel sucking on your clit rather than your neck.

Just the thought made you clench, and you felt Mat grin against your neck.

He knew exactly what he was doing to you, you had spent countless nights exploring each other until you both learned the best ways to tease and make the other come undone. His fingers curled rhythmically as he moved them in and out of you, the heel of his hand grinding onto your clit.

It was all you’d need and he knew it, his lips on yours muffling your whimpers as he kissed you. There was a type of need in that kiss that came from the distance. Mat never liked spending time away from you, because as much as he could catch up on sex by spending the whole day making you come, he couldn’t catch up on the moments he had missed. He couldn’t catch up on hugging you tight and congratulating you when you got a promotion, he couldn’t catch up on sitting in a bath with you after a stressful day, he couldn’t catch up on making you laugh while acting like a dork in the kitchen and distracting you from cooking.

“Mat,” You whispered against his lips, nails digging into his shoulders.

“I know,” He breathed out against your mouth, giving you one more kiss before he pulled away enough to look at you. “Come on baby,” He sped his fingers up, watching you fall apart and spill all over his fingers.

It was the strongest orgasm you had since he was gone. Nothing you did to yourself could feel as good as Mat’s touch.

He worked you through it despite the way your hips moved and how hard your pussy clenched. If you hadn’t been pressed between him and the counter you would have never been able to stand, and Mat knew that. He pulled his fingers out slowly while you calmed down, falling into his arms while he gently held you to his chest.

“Better?” He asked, watching you nod eagerly. Your mind was still fuzzy from your high and you were blissfully relaxed. “Come over here,” He guided you towards the couch, letting himself fall into it with his thighs spread wide open.

You didn’t need to ask to know he wanted you on your knees.

He pulled his shirt over his head without a word, messing up his hair and somehow making him look even hotter while he let it fall next to him on the couch. You were patiently waiting, looking up at him with your hands in your lap while he shimmied out of his jeans to make it easier for you.

Your lips found his inner thighs first. You started low, close to his knee before you worked your way up the strong muscles and left some purple ovals there to remind him of this for the next few days. Mat leaned back into the couch with a satisfied hum, his head hanging low to watch you.

His cock was very obviously straining against the fabric of his boxers, and you didn’t make him wait much longer before cupping him with your hand, using the other one to caress over his thigh. Mat grunted quietly, licking his lips when you looked up at him and giving you an encouraging little nod.

You obeyed wordlessly, bringing your lips to kiss him over his boxers, working your way up to his waistband. There, you hooked your fingers into it and moved back to pull the material down his legs. His cock stood proudly, waiting for your attention, and Mat slid a cushion to the floor before you could kneel back in between his legs.

“Thanks,” You whispered, lips attached to his inner thigh on a spot you knew was sensitive while your hand gently began to stroke his cock.

A loud exhale fell from his lips, and you followed up with a lick of the underside of his cock from his base to his tip. Mat’s thighs clenched at that, filling you with pride. He affected you easily, but so did you.

Your tongue swirled around his tip, tasting the precum that was leaking from him before you sucked with a hum. Your saliva was slowly making him wetter, allowing you to take more and more of him into your mouth to hear the beautiful moans he could never contain when you went down on him.

You felt a little bold, so you tried to go further to feel him hit the back of your throat, but it only made you gag. You had to pull off for a second, coughing a little before you went right back to his cock.

“Take it easy,” Mat pulled your hair back so that it wouldn’t fall in your face, and he used his gentle grip to guide you. “Just like that baby,” He moaned when you focused on sucking on the head of his cock, moving your tongue around him before bobbing your head and slowly sinking down further.

Praises fell from his lips continuously, accompanied by little moans that increased when you brought your hand to tease his balls and followed by sucking on them too. You could tell he was getting close, you were always good at getting him to the edge fast when you sucked him.

His eyes never left you, they were on your every time you looked up at him, darkened by desire. You were so beautiful like that, always so eager to please, and the enthusiasm you put into you made things ten times better for Mat. He loved hearing how much you liked it, hearing you beg for it, feeling how wet you could get just from sucking him.

“Fuck baby, stop,” He forced himself to groan. He was dangerously close, and he could have finished right there in your mouth, but he wanted your pussy more than that.

The way his hand pulled on your hair turned you on, he was never harsh with it but he always used it to guide you. It reminded you of the night you spent together before he left, your ass up in the air with your chest pressed into the mattress while Mat held your hair to make you arch your back.

You went back to kissing his inner thighs after one last suck, obeying him and waiting to see what he wanted you to do next. Mat spaced out for a second, trying to regain control of himself but getting distracted by how good your mouth felt on him.

“Maty?” You asked quietly, looking up at him and awaiting his instructions. You would gladly take him back into your mouth if that was what he wanted, you just needed his permission to do so.

“C’mere,” He patted his lap and motioned you up, his back resting against the couch while you settled yourself over his thighs. “That’s a very pretty set you got baby, but it’s kind of getting in the way now,” Mat’s hands travelled up your ribs until his thumbs could brush over your nipples through the lace. “I think it’s about time it comes off,” He watched your nod and shook his head lightly. “I want words,”

“Yes,” You replied, reaching behind your back to unhook your bra and let it fall somewhere by the couch.

“God you’re beautiful,” Mat sighed as he took in the sight of your chest, lightly pinching your nipples and rolling them to hear you gasp. You often felt self conscious around him, you never got to work out as much as he did, but his almost constant compliments boosted your confidence.

He was never short of kind words and praises for you, and you returned them as often as you could, whether it was through touches, looks or words. His lips soon followed his fingers, attaching themselves to your chest and littering it with pretty red marks he was sure to spend time admiring for the next few days.

His teeth bit and tugged gently, never stopping until a little whimper had fallen from your lips because of the bit of pain that came with the pinching. You weren’t always in the mood for it, but if the way you rolled your hips against him was any indication, Mat would say today was one of the days he could bite a little harder.

Your panties were completely ruined from the way you were dripping, still wearing them even though they were in the way of everything you wanted to do with Mat.

“These need to fucking go,” He practically growled when he felt the material against his cock. He was done playing, he needed to get rid of anything that was between your bodies.

“Mathew don’t-” You barely had a chance to say anything before his hands were at your sides, grabbing onto the delicate lace and ripping it apart.

You pouted as it fell to the floor, but the hunger in Mat’s eyes was too strong for him to care. He could buy you a new set later to make up for it.

“Come on baby,” He cupped your ass and pulled you onto him, getting your pussy to rub hard against his cock. Your eyes rolled back at the perfect friction you felt on your clit, but you didn’t get a chance to feel it again before Mat lifted you and placed the head of his cock as your entrance.

You sat down on him slightly, feeling him stretch your walls a little while his hands caressed the sides of your thighs and waist.

“You’re so big,” You winced as you moved down, holding him tighter and turning your head to hide it into his neck. No matter how many times you were with him, it always took you a minute to adjust to his size. Mat wasn’t small by any means.

“Come on baby,” He gave your ass a gentle squeeze in response. “You’re almost there,”

“Mmh,” You hummed your assent, slowly sinking down on him further until you were so full of him tears brimmed in your eyes.

“Fuck yes,” He moaned, feeling your ass meet his thighs. “You’re doing so good baby,”

His hands guided you to move slowly, making you roll your hips rather than lift yourself so that he could stay all the way inside of you for a little bit longer. The clenches of your pussy around him made his moans mix with yours, deep sounds that went straight to your core and made you drip over him.

Your bodies were closer than ever, Mat’s chest pressed against yours and your head in his neck while you clutched his back and lifted yourself to give him what you knew he was patiently waiting for. Your nails digged into his back, dragging over his skin and leaving scratches he’d tease you for but secretly loved. He liked leaving hickeys to mark you as his, and he enjoyed being marked as yours just as much.

The whole team knew how well he could fuck you just from the marks they saw on his body when they showered after practice, which earned you a few misplaced winks from Tito whenever he said “easy tiger” as a joke.

“I don’t know how long I can hold on,” You whimpered, lifting your head as well as you could to look into his eyes. Your hips followed a steady rhythm, lifting yourself off his cock and sinking back down fully every time to feel all of him.

It felt so overwhelmingly good that tears began to slowly roll down your cheeks, small whines escaping you every time he pressed against your sweet spot.

“Look at you,” Mat cupped your face, leaning forward to kiss the tears off your cheeks. “Such a good girl fucking yourself on my cock like that,”

“It’s so good Mat, I missed it so much,” You got wordier than usual. He was always the one with the dirty mouth, whispering sinful things to you as a joke at first until he realised how much it turned you on. He had kept on doing it ever since, using it to make you react or to hear you give him the go ahead with anything he might want to try.

“Yeah? Tell me exactly what you missed.” He mouthed at your jaw for a second, giving it a little nip that made your whole body tighten in surprise.

“I missed your cock,” You gasped while he nodded, encouraging you to keep on talking. “Missed you filling me with your cum,” You fell forward against him, nuzzling your face into his neck and pressing your chest to his to feel closer again. Mat’s reaction to your words was loud, and he followed his moan with a newfound grip on your hips to guide you to keep bouncing your ass. You knew you’d have bruises in the shape of his fingers in a few hours.

“Faster,” He ordered you, panting and pulling your hips down hard to accompany his statement.

“I’m so close,” You choked out, barely holding on. The slow start had already gotten you close to the edge, and speeding up had your body trembling with anticipation of a release.

“Don’t stop,” His moan almost made you come right there and his abs clenched while his thighs trembled as he approached his high too. He didn’t want you to come first, he needed a release he could ride out without worrying about making you overly sensitive. He had long plans for the night, but there was only so much your body could handle.

You struggled to keep up with the rhythm he set, whimpering your way through every thrust while Mat grunted into your ear and began lifting his hips to meet your movements. You fell apart right there, unable to stop it any longer, and he followed right after you. He whimpered quietly as he filled you, feeling you squeeze around his throbbing cock rhythmically.

“That’s my good girl,” He breathed out the words he knew you always craved to hear. You’d do just about anything for him to tell you that.

Mat smoothed your hair back, the tenderness coating his movements contrasting with the way he was treating you a second ago. You’d both need time to come down, and he never wanted you to get away from him.

You remained close for several minutes, neither of you wanting to accept you’d have to get up at some point. This was the closest you had been able to get in weeks, you weren’t ready for it to be over yet. You had missed everything about him, but a lot of it was simply his presence.

You had missed getting to hug him every day, his smell on the bed sheets, the lingering scent of his body wash in the bathroom after he showered, the sound of his humming when he made you coffee in the morning, the warmth of his skin when he was cuddled up against you. You could still talk when he was away, but nothing could make up for that.

“Can you move baby?” Mat eventually whispered, hands trailing up and down your spine. He wasn’t too comfortable, and if he was only going to hold you he’d rather just do that in bed.

“Mmh,” You got up on wobbly legs, feeling your wetness and Mat’s cum drip down your thighs.

He noticed too and reached forward to catch it with his fingers before bringing it straight back to your pussy. He cupped you with his whole palm, a strangled noise coming from you while he rubbed against your slick folds gently, mixing your fluids and watching you struggle to keep standing.

“I can’t stand,” You leaned to rest your hands on his shoulders, your chest so close to his face that he couldn’t resist. He sucked one of your hard nipples into his mouth and grazed it with his teeth, chuckling when your knees buckled and you almost fell over him.

“Bedroom, now,” He decided as he pulled away, dropping his hand and carelessly wiping it on his thigh as he got up. You were about to make a mess on the bed anyway, he’d worry about it later.

You fell back on the bed and adjusted a pillow behind your head, smiling without bothering to hide yourself. Mat fell in love all over again at the sight, he didn’t get to admire you much at the start of your relationship, you were too self conscious, but after all the time you had spent together you were now comfortable around him. You still had your insecurities but you never felt the need to hide.

He crawled on top of you slowly, resting enough of his weight on top of you to pin you down while making sure he wouldn’t crush you. Your legs were parted to accommodate him so that you were both settled comfortably with smiles on your faces.

“I love you,” You rubbed your thumb over the back of his neck, craving more affection.

“I love you too,” Mat kissed the tip of your nose. “So much,” He knew you liked him handling you roughly from time to time, but you needed love and reassurance.

You had talked and set limits about what was safe to try a long time ago when you started getting a little kinky together, but it hadn’t been enough. You spent too much time thinking of the physical aspect of things and forgot about the emotional side. Everything Mat did had been discussed, it was all supposed to be okay, but you quickly found out you weren’t into it by how fast you blurted out your safeword one night. You liked him being dominant, yes, but you didn’t like feeling used.

Mat was too freaked out to try again for a while, he had done no harm but he was scared he would, so he put a stop to it for some months.

It took more talks and fine tuning to get back into playing like that. All you needed was his reassurance, so you both switched things up to a dynamic that had to do with praise and made sure to take time in between rough moments for softer ones.

Mat was always careful, he knew he’d be pushing your limits tonight and he needed to make sure he could do that safely. Giving you kisses and repeating how much he loved you was his way of making sure you’d feel safe and relaxed.

You knew he’d never hurt you, and that he’d never let you feel self conscious about a single thing.

Your hand moved from the back of his neck to his face while you observed him, committing this image to your memory. He looked different than when he left. He was just as pretty, but the beard changed his face and you had been waiting so see what it’d be like in person.

“You like the beard baby?” He smiled softly, watching the way your eyes took him in.

“It feels different,” You let your knuckles run over his cheek, feeling how rough it was from the usual soft shaven skin or light stubble.

“Good or bad different?”

“Good, but I don’t know if it’s better than usual. You look beautiful either way,” You were getting lost in his eyes, your body blissfully relaxed against the mattress now that he had helped you calm down.

“How about,” Mat paused for a second to place a kiss on your palm. “You let me know how it feels against your thighs and pussy, mmh?” Your eyes widened at his words, and he watched the way your lips parted slightly. “You want that baby?”

His eyes looked so innocent, so soft and gentle, and it only made his words more powerful. You were already about to explode just from the way he talked, you’d last absolutely no time with his mouth on you.

“Yes,” You managed to whisper loud enough that it reached his ears, and Mat wasted no time.

His lips fell to your neck to add marks to the collection that was already blooming on your skin. He was all too aware of the kind of moans he was sometimes about to pull out of you just from that, and he wanted to hear them. Your fingers found purchase in his hair, threading through the strands and gently guiding his head down to your collarbone to get him towards the place you actually needed him.

Mat caught on easily, smiling against your skin and spending a little less time on your chest than he normally would to focus on trailing down to your inner thighs instead. He could spend hours kissing, licking and nipping at your sides until you writhed underneath him, but it would only make you too impatient.

The sight of his head between your legs was enough teasing for you already. No matter how much you enjoyed the shivers that ran down your spine when Mat kissed the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, nothing beat the actual waves of pleasure that crashed over your body when he sucked on your clit, and you were desperate for him to do just that.

His mouth hovered over your pussy for a second, letting you feel the warmth of his breath while he looked up at you. You were staring at the ceiling, chest rising and falling fast in anticipation. Mat almost moaned knowing he was the one who put you in that state. Instead, he pressed a kiss to your folds and let his tongue come out to lap at your wetness.

He hummed against you and made you shiver before moving your legs to let you rest your heels against his back. Your knees remained spread wide open, letting him access any part of you he wanted. Mat was a little busy to actually see you, but all he could think as he smothered his face in you was that you were the most beautiful woman in the world.

“Let me hear you baby,” He lifted his head and rested his palm flat on your stomach in anticipation of having to keep you down. “Don’t hold back, I wanna know how good it feels,”

You looked down to meet his eyes when you saw he wasn’t doing anything, and he gave you a soft smile that had nothing to do on his face in a position like this one. His lips parted around your clit, his tongue gently teasing it while he kept the eye contact going. He gave you a tentative suck, earning a quiet moan from you that filled him with satisfaction.

“Good girl,” He mumbled into your pussy before his eyes fell shut and he truly dove in.

Your head fell back and you were thrashing in his arms a second later, unable to keep your hips still and fisting the bed sheets tightly in your hands in hope of anchoring yourself. He was alternating broad licks and sucks with tiny kitten licks that made you squirm, but you only really lost it when he pushed two fingers inside of you.

The wet noises that were coming from his mouth and your pussy were sinful, as were your moans that spurred him on to devour you until you couldn’t think anymore. Mat was eating you out like it was the last time and his fingers curling against your sweet spot had your muscles quivering with pleasure.

“You like that baby?” He barely came up for air, face glistening with your wetness, but you couldn’t even think of letting him have a break.

“Don’t stop,” You whined, a hand flying to his hair and pushing him back down. He made a startled noise but didn’t object, diving right back in with his tongue out to lick over the most sensitive parts of you. “I’m so close, you’re doing so good just please, please don’t stop,”

Your back arched off the bed as he picked up the speed with his fingers, eagerly sucking and flattening his tongue over your clit the way he knew drove you absolutely mad. Mat loved pleasing you, and if you weren’t currently pushing his face down he’d lift it to tell you how much he wanted you to come on his fingers and tongue. You were seconds away from it either way, he could tell from how hard he had to hold you to force you to keep your legs open.

His one arm could only do so much when his other fingers were buried deep inside of your pussy, and you tried your best not to tighten your legs around his head too much when your orgasm hit you. It made your whole body go tight, your walls squeezing so hard around his fingers that he struggled to keep moving them to ride you through it. He moaned in unison with you, proud of himself when he felt the way your body reacted to him.

His tongue moved on you slowly when you began to whimper, breathing slower and letting your legs fall down on the mattress. He tried to avoid your clit, only lapping up your wetness to clean you up although he couldn’t resist teasing it a little just to hear the cute overstimulated noises you were making.

You came down with a blissed out smile on your face, threading your fingers through Mat’s hair and massaging his scalp with the little strength you had left.

“Satisfied?” He rested his head on your thigh, looking up at you with a smirk.

“Mmh,” Your mind was too foggy for you to form many words. “Almost,”

“Almost?” He couldn’t believe it, thinking you would have at least needed a break before you asked for another round.

“Can’t be satisfied until you are,” You nodded, referring to the way he had subconsciously been rutting his hips against the mattress while eating you out to get something out of it.

Mat bit hip lip, wondering how much more you’d be able to handle. You would have said it if you needed some time, but you sounded like you were already waiting for him to fuck you again. He had plans for it, positions he wanted you into because he knew it made him hit you at the perfect angle, but he needed you to be able to hold yourself up.

So, instead of giving in to what you both craved, he got up from the bed and went to retrieve two water bottles from the fridge. It would give you just enough of a break to get ready for what he had left in store.

You both knew the day was still far from over.

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#mat barzal #nhl fic #nhl imagine #writing #smut #fluff #mathew barzal #ny islanders #mat barzal fic #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal smut #mat barzal fluff #mathew barzal smut #mathew barzal fic #mathew barzal imagine #isles13 #islanders #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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sellyoursoulforagoodfic · 3 years

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Monstrous Secrets Chapter 6

Eris Vanserra x reader

Word Count: 1970

Summary: The High Lord’s meeting.

It was by sheer bad luck that you were sitting next to your cousin when Beron and family strode into the gathering of High Lords. It was by even worse luck that Eris had his sleeves rolled up, inadvertently revealing the bargain marks that so perfectly matched yours. You could see realization dawn on each of your friends’ faces even as his family remained perfectly oblivious. You hoped with every fiber of your being that they didn’t think you’d struck a deal with him willy-nilly, even more so that you didn’t make a deal about Mor.

Rhys, if you can hear me, let me explain before you jump to conclusions.

Judging from the almost simultaneous crinkle of their noses, Rhysand and Feyre seemed to notice the scent of your bond with Eris.

Well, at least they won’t think something worse I guess.

Nesta just raised an eyebrow.

Doesn’t matter. We don’t get along anyway.

Mor’s eyes just flitted between you and your mate, growing wider and wider in horror.

Please don’t hate me.

Cassian and Azriel, though, were the worst with their twin expressions of disgust that they didn’t even attempt to hide.

And there goes life as I knew it . . .

Then your eyes strayed to Eris himself. The first time seeing your mate in over fifty years, and it’s like this, under these circumstances. You would not cry in front of these people, you swore to yourself. You wouldn’t. Though Cassian’s accusing scoff of, “Just tattoos, huh?” What’d you sell to him, your soul?” damn near made the tears fall despite yourself.

You studied Eris instead of acknowledging your (former?) friend, noticing the struggle etched into his face that made it look as if he wanted nothing more than to hold you.

Rhysand’s voice flitted through your mind, “So that explains why I thought I smelled you in that meeting with Keir . . .” Nothing more. Such a neutral statement that gave you no hints as to what he was thinking.

It was Feyre that reached over, across Rhys, to touch the hand you had clenching the arm of your chair. Her eyes spoke of someone who knew what it was like to have a mate that was hated and to be forced away from them. If anyone in the world would understand what you were currently suffering through, it was her. “Go to him,” she ordered softly. “We’ll sort out the rest later.”

As soon as you were on your feet, Eris was moving--family be damned, apparently--towards you. You met in that undefined no man’s land between the people of the Autumn Court and the rest of the High Lords. In an instant, you were hauled up into a desperate kiss--audience be damned this time. His hair was cut short, you noticed when you went to grab a fistful. You wondered when, exactly, he’d done it and why.

“What is the meaning of this?” Beron demanded.

When Eris pulled away slightly, you opened your eyes to see that his were still squeezed closed and his jaw was clenched.

“Well?”

Eris’s jaw twitched again, to the point you were worried about his teeth cracking under the strain. You leaned up on your toes, cupping his face in your hands, and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips while sending soothing feelings across your bond.

“They seem to be mate,” Rhys announced as your returned your weight to your heels, and you could just hear the cocky smirk on his face like he’d known the entire time.

“Be that as it may,” Helion spoke up, reminding the group that there were, in fact, others present beyond the Night and Autumn Courts, “we have more important matters to discuss today.”

Eris reached up to grasp one of your hands so he could kiss your knuckles before parting.

The meeting continued relatively smoothly after that, despite how tense the situation with Tamlin was or the curious/awkward/angry glances people were shooting at you and Eris. It wasn’t until you were in the suite provided for the Night Court that anyone even brought up the topic that left such a stain on the atmosphere. When they did, you couldn’t help but think about how Eris was probably going through the same and worse at the hands of his father wherever he and his family had disappeared to. The sharp pings of anxiety and pain that were slipping through the bond only made you worry more, fingers tracing over the black bands instinctively.

“How long?” Cassian demanded as Azriel vanished with Mor, neither sparing you so much as a parting glance.

You shifted your wings nervously, and your hand fell away from the tattoo, not wanting to draw even more attention to them. “Remember that first ball I went to in Spring when you all wanted me to play spy?”

He snarled as he turned and punched a nearby column, thankfully not doing much damage to the thing.

“Now, now, don’t destroy this place,” Rhys teased though you could still hear the strain in his voice and see it in the way his mouth was pinched at the corners. To you, he asked, “Why did you never tell anyone?” Tell me? he added in your head, clearly hurt.

You scoffed, arms moving to curl around your middle. Your wings were starting to cramp with how hard you had them squeezed against your back. “Can you imagine how his father would have taken that?”

“Doesn’t explain why you never told us!” Cassian shouted.

Wow, having your closest friend turn on you hurt more than you could have imagined. Still, you snapped at him, not wanting to back down. You’d earned your place, Cauldron damn it, and it wasn’t by being cowed every time a male raised his voice. “Don’t you think I wanted to?!” Now, you were toe-to-toe with the feared general. “At first I kept quiet because I was a fucking slave and an Illyrian and he was a fucking heir to one of the courts! And he was betrothed to my friend and I didn’t even know if it would go anywhere! And then--”

“And then Mor happened,” Feyre realized, “and you couldn’t because how could you tell your family that you loved a monster?”

On some level, you knew that she could relate because Rhys had a similar reputation; she had to, in order to put it into words that succinctly. Against your better judgment, you argued, “He’s not a monster.”

Cassian scoffed.

“He’s not!” Your head whirled back to his, hand whipping out to shove him back even just a step. “So only Rhys is allowed to have that sort of façade?! Eris was trying!” You knew you were broadcasting your anger in a way that was likely overwhelming to Feyre and Rhysand, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. “You heard it from his own lips; breaking off that engagement was all he could do for her. There wasn’t time for a better plan. Not when the one he’d been working on before got blown to smithereens!”

“So you’re going to blame her?!” Cassian’s fist clenched in a way that made your stomach do the same.

“No!” you shrieked. “Cauldron, no.” The mere thought of it brought tears to your eyes yet again. “Do I wish we’d both been more open and talked about this shit before that happened? Yes. Do I wish Eris and I had come up with a plan sooner? Absolutely. Would I ever blame her for the shit she went through? Never.” You looked at the ceiling in an attempt to blink back your tears. “She was my best friend, and I have barely been able to look her in the eye for five hundred years because of something that could have been solved easily if not for the backwards beliefs of others. You cannot imagine what it’s been like all this time. You just can’t.”

Fere seemed to notice something based on the gasp that slipped past her lips and the worried look she leveled you with. “When was the last time you saw him before today?”

Your wings shifted nervously, a tell you’d been trying to rid yourself of ever since Rhysand pointed out in your youth. Again, your hand moved to touch one of the black bands; however, that was a consions, self-calming action. “We said our vows while Amarantha was stealing the High Lords’ powers,” you admitted aloud for the first time. It felt even more horrible than any time you’d thought those words to yourself. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Rhysand’s fists clench. Even Cassian seemed taken aback by the admission. “It was too dangerous to meet after that.”

“So tonight . . .” Cassian’s voice was much calmer now, as if he was starting to understand your side. He was, after all, your closest friend even if he was pissed at you.

“Was the first time I’ve spoken to or even laid eyes on my husband in over fifty years.”

Feyre and Rhysand exchanged a look that told you everything you needed to know about whatever mental conversation they were having. No doubt, they were discussing how horrible that sort of separation from a mate would be, especially after the taste they’d gotten when she was recently undercover in Spring.

“Don’t mistake what I say next for forgiveness or finality,” Rhys said after they looked away from each other once more, “because there’s clearly a lot we need to discuss as a group and as a family.” The spark of anger in his eye, something so rarely directed towards you, made you shrink in on yourself a little. His voice slithered into your mind through the little passageway in the mental wall you kept open just for him, Especially the fact that you think of yourself as less than him because of what you are. “But he will be allowed here tonight without any harm coming to him. Just stay in your room to spare Mor and Az.”

“His father won’t let him out of his sight, Rhys. Not after this.” He’ll be lucky to make it out without blood being spilled.

He lifted a brow as if to say, “Oh, really?” as he strode over to open the door to dramatically reveal Eris Vanserra posed on the other side as if to knock. His violet eyes turned icy as he gave your mate a once-over. “From the sound of it, I’m about five hundred years to late, but if you ever hurt her--”

“You’ll let your dog finish what he started,” Eris interrupted. “I’m aware.” His gaze was locked onto yours as he spoke, and you could feel the shared urge to have your arms wrapped around the other. You could read the tension in his stance, the way he was holding himself revealing that he was in pain as well as worried about you. He was wearing a different shirt, this one with the sleeves fully covering his tattoos. None of this boded well for what he’d been enduring while you were fighting with your friends and family.

Rhys made a noise somewhere between a snort and a scoff, oblivious to the observations you’d been making. “Traded one of my cousins for the other. Just destined to be part of the family aren’t you, Vanserra?” He waved off whatever Eris was about to argue, ignored the golden flames that shone in his eyes. “Just go. Enjoy the time you have together before the world goes to shit. Again.”

Immediately, you stepped away from Cassian, who you were still close enough to feel the heat off his body because of the arguing mere minutes (had it been only minutes?) before, so you could grasp Eris’s hand and lead him to your room.

#eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra imagine #eris imagine #eris x reader #acotar imagine #a court of thorns and roses imagine #reader insert

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dhwty-writes · 3 years

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On the Benefits of Trancing

This is a bit late, but was in fact written for Day 2 of sgtober, Can't Sleep. It's very fluffy, have fun reading!

Summary: There are several reasons why Essek prefers trancing over sleeping. Firstly, as difficult as it may be to leave yourself vulnerable for eight hours at a time, he finds it even more challenging to imagine his friends defenceless. Secondly, sleep, inevitably, will give birth to dreams. And no matter if they are foul or fair, they torture him all the same. And lastly, well—.Essek reminisces about the strange habit of sleeping and his even stranger habit of sharing his bed with Caleb whenever he can't sleep.

Warnings: None, as far as I’m aware

Read on AO3

Sleep is a curious thing, Essek muses, that he doesn't understand and hasn't particularly cared for up until this point. It is a childish thing, and wild and vulnerable and oh-so terribly time consuming. Truth be told, for most of his life he has pitied the other races who are forced to bow to the whims of nature in that way.

Like so many things, that changed when he met the Mighty Nein. Well, not when he met them necessarily—back then he may or may not have been quietly plotting their demise for returning his carefully stolen beacons—but certainly when he started travelling with them.

As many aspects of elven cultures are, trancing is a solitary activity, a silent contemplation of one's most private thoughts to better cope with them. Shock and surprise don't even begin to cover his feelings when Caleb first cast his dome and Essek found out that sleeping, as many things for the Mighty Nein, is a rather communal event.

He had eight whole hours to come to terms with those implications—did they not realise what it meant, the trust one had to place in another to sleep in front of them? Did they not care? Or did they, by some miracle, in fact trust him that much?

When he came out of his trance the next morning, he realised some of the members of the Nein had moved during the night, curling closer to and around each other. Cuddling, they called it, and Essek's pity melted away, turning into something more bitter, more poisonous. Envy.

There is something about sitting upright, floating a few inches off the ground while surrounded by people holding each other that can make you feel so incredibly lonely, and that has to say something. Nearly a century of solitude spent between too-large, too-empty towers, too-secretive and too-pious schools, and a too-scheming and too-paranoid court have never left him feeling as isolated and bereft as that morning with the Nein did.

Of course, back then he didn't have the words to describe the feelings swirling in his chest. Nor did he have the words to ask for them to include him in their affections, lest he be presumptuous. That, to quote Caleb Widogast, takes time. Surprisingly little of it, if he is perfectly honest.

A few months down the line, he stopped floating while trancing and when he resurfaced the next morning, he found himself leaning against Fjord, who had taken the last watch. When he jerked away in embarrassment, Fjord blinked awake, too, a disgruntled look on his face, growling that he should stop moving around so much.

Despite his shame, Essek complied and held completely still until the rest of the Nein woke up. After that, he began to dabble into the casual intimacy his friends share. He even tried to sleep, occasionally.

In the beginning, he felt very self-conscious about it. He would wake up with messy hair, or drool on his pillow, or, worst of all, tucked close to Caleb. Another effect of the Mighty Nein, though, is that they very quickly rid you of your sense of shame. So, he no longer cares if he looks a mess, if his clothes are rumpled, or if he's getting spit on Veth's backpack. Just the last thing he can't help but feel embarrassed about.

There are several reasons why he still prefers trancing, though. Firstly, as difficult as it may be to leave yourself vulnerable for eight hours at a time, he finds it even more challenging to imagine his friends defenceless. He much prefers being able to watch over them for at least half of that time.

Secondly, sleep, inevitably, will give birth to dreams. And if sleep is childish, wild, and vulnerable, dreams are tenfold so. He often contemplates his crimes during his trances, as well as the discarded timelines, the lost possibilities that could have led to even more death, destruction, and despair. He frequently considers members of the Assembly lording their victory over him, disposing of him, torturing his friends. However, in his trance, he can choose to abandon these timelines. Dreams offer no such luxury. Once in their cruel grasp, you have no choice but to see them through.

Nightmares are one thing, but dreams are another. Even the pleasant ones often come unbidden, worming themselves through his subconscious to pluck out— What exactly Essek should call them, he isn't sure. He wouldn't dare name them wishes or hopes, for that would imply a certain level of possibility for them to come true. These visions are desires, more like, though that term implies a certain passion that does not fit the circumstance.

These unsought fantasies often include the Mighty Nein, years or decades from now. How they would still seek him out, include him in their midst. He dreams of feasts and festivals, of hugs and humour, of truthfulness and trust. And then there are other, even more forbidden dreams featuring him and Caleb. He dreams of soft kisses and gentle caresses, lazy nights spent in the tower reading books, of research and adventures and normalcy, of waking up as close to each other every day as they do from time to time on accident. He would love his future to look like this, but he knows there is a very little chance for that.

So, no matter if the dreams are foul or fair, they torture him all the same.

And lastly, well—

There is a knock on his door and Essek's heart lurches. "Come in," he calls as calmly as he can manage, forcing himself to slowly close the book he hasn't been reading instead of slamming it shut and scrambling to his feet.

The door opens silently, as all doors within the tower do, and Caleb slips inside. He's wearing simple sleeping clothes and Essek silently curses himself for already closing the book, so he can't even pretend to read that instead. "I, ah— I'm sorry for intruding... again," Caleb says, self-consciously tugging at his sleeves. "I hope I didn't wake you?"

"Not at all," he answers, barely keeping himself from saying: 'I was waiting up.' Instead, he opts for: "I was still reading."

"Anything interesting?"

"Are you trying to tell me that you have stored uninteresting books in your mind, Caleb Widogast?"

"Plenty," he deadpans and Essek chuckles.

"It's called The Creation of Silver." He turns the plain cover over to Caleb, to jog his memory. Based on what he could gather by skimming the first pages, it promises to be a rather run of the mill romance novel following the story of a Dwendalian noble trying to escape their arranged marriage. "So far, I find it quite entertaining."

"Ah, yes." Caleb quickly glances away, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. "Have you reached the part where Stefan leaves for the city yet?"

"I have not."

"Then I will not spoil you." Another tug on his sleeve. "The plot really picks up at that point."

Essek tilts his head to the side, studying Caleb. According to the clock in his room, it is past midnight, which is quite late for the human to still be awake. Yet, he is just hovering in his doorway, caught between stepping inside and leaving again. "I presume you did not come here to discuss my evening reading matter."

"Ah..." He tugs at his sleeves again. "No, I did not." As always, Caleb is as incapable of voicing his needs as Essek is.

Thankfully, Essek is not nearly as apprehensive when it comes to his friends' well-being as he is when his own is concerned. "Should you have trouble sleeping, you know you are more than welcome to stay. Seeing as we are to make progress tomorrow, I am very invested in you having a restful night."

Not being able to sleep is another thing about that practice that Essek cannot understand. Trancing is a matter of will, discipline, and tranquillity and he's always assumed sleep to be the same. He supposes it is, to some degree.

But travelling with the Mighty Nein, and Caleb specifically, has taught him that you cannot force sleep. There are circumstances under which they will toss and turn for hours, unable to find rest. Not even Beau's meditation, which he considered relatively close to his trance, seemed capable to calm a disturbed mind enough for sleep.

He has, however, also discovered that for certain members of the Mighty Nein, certain methods will accomplish the necessary peace of mind. Caduceus' tea appears to be able to work miracles, time and time again. Beauregard likes to tire herself out by running drills, while Jester usually draws in her sketchbook. Yasha tends to make flower crowns or, lacking flowers, braid other people's hair. Essek has been subjected to that numerous times so far and despite his aversion to Dynasty braids, he doesn't hate it. Fjord usually ties sailor's knots, and Veth sorts through her various collections.

Caleb, though? Caleb, for some reason, only needs another person to fall asleep next to. And for some reason, despite the numerous options he has, he chooses Essek more often than not. Not that he's complaining, of course. In fact, he may enjoy it a little too much.

Caleb laughs quietly as he often does at their antics. They have long since learned the rules to this strange game they are playing. "Well, if you put it like this..." he says as he rids himself of his slippers—Hausschuhe, he has explained to Essek, a very important part of Zemnian culture—and puts them next to Essek's. "I would hate to disappoint you, Herr Thelyss."

'You couldn't,' he thinks as he pulls back the covers. Instead, he says: "Indeed." As always, he freezes in place when Caleb joins him on the bed, scooting closer until they are nearly touching. Being this close to each other is not getting any less mortifying, no matter how long it has been since Caleb first came knocking on his door.

He still remembers that night in vivid detail. As so often, Essek has been reading and just got up to get a cup of tea. When he stepped out of his rooms, he nearly collided with a wizard who had convinced himself that his suffering wasn’t important enough to trouble him with. “Do you want to come in?” he said to his own surprise. To his even bigger surprise, Caleb accepted.

They sat on Essek’s couch and talked about everything and nothing at once. Hours later, with his throat gone dry, Essek asked: “Shouldn’t you be asleep by now?” The moments the words left his mouth he knew he’d said something wrong.

Caleb shot to his feet as if burned and Essek followed suit. “I am so sorry, friend. I will not continue to disturb you any—”

“Where are you going?” he interrupted him, perhaps a little irritated. “Give me some credit, Caleb Widogast; I am capable of far subtler ways to rid myself of an unwelcome visitor. Which you are not.”

He laughed self-consciously and said: “Regardless, I should go and rest. Schlaf gut, Herr Thelyss.”

“You could stay,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. “I mean—I noticed your sleep to be more restful when you are around others. I am aware that I am not your first choice, but since the others are not here—You’re welcome to stay, if it at all helps.”

Caleb hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Certainly.”

“In Ordnung,” he answered finally. Essek is still glad he had thought to float for that conversation. That way, at least, his knees didn’t give out.

A short discussion about who should take the bed followed before they stubbornly agreed to share it. Essek came to regret that immediately after when he was confronted with the practical implications of ‘sharing a bed’.

“Make yourself at home,” he said. Caleb took some time to rearrange the pillows and blankets—just like he does now—while Essek hovered nearby. Literally.

It took several reminders from Caleb for Essek to not instinctively recast his floating cantrip, but eventually they managed to lie down next to each other with a minimal amount of awkwardness. They have moved past that initial apprehensiveness by now, Essek thinks while he pretends to read. Shortly after, Caleb flops down, close enough that Essek can feel his breath ghosting over his cheeks.

“Good night, Caleb Widogast,” Essek says, stubbornly staring at the pages and nowhere else. "Do you want me to dim the lights?" He doesn't need them anyways; he just likes to appreciate the room Caleb made for him in all of its colours.

"No, I think I would like to read a bit. I am quite fond of that book."

"You are?" Essek looks down to him in surprise. ‘If Caleb tilts his head,’ the thought hits him, ‘he could rest it on my shoulder.’ He just thought it to be one of the countless books Caleb has read in his life, nothing special. "Why?"

He blushes again. "Ah— I think you'll see. The title is more literal than one would assume."

He considers the book once more, trying to discern what Caleb means with his words. ‘Luxon help me,’ he sends a silent prayer. It wouldn’t be the first time for him to pick up a romance novel that turns out to be quite a bit more explicit than anticipated. To think that such a mistake may have happened to him with Caleb so close—He thinks he might just combust from embarrassment.

"Do you mind flipping the page?" Caleb asks with a yawn, startling Essek out of his thoughts.

"Oh, of course," he says belatedly and turns the page. He hasn't read the last one yet, but nor has he read the one before, so it hardly matters. The novel has a rather shallow plot, so he has no trouble picking it up three pages later, and he's done so by design.

“Thank you.” He yawns again, louder this time and burrows down further into his pillows. “Gute Nacht, mein Schatz,” he mumbles and freezes as if he only now realises what he said. He seems to wait for an answer, but when Essek fails to provide a wrong one, he just smiles up at him and says: “Schlaf wohl und g’sund, bis morgen früh’s Kaffeele kommt.”

“I don’t understand you,” Essek tells him just as quietly, “but you can translate tomorrow.” After a moment of hesitation, he adds in Undercommon: “Sweet dreams, my dear. I’ll be here when you wake up.” He quickly glances back at his book before he can do anything stupid. Such as regret his words. Or kiss him goodnight.

Still, with Caleb reading along he does his best to at least somewhat read the novel. It’s a very flowery language, occasionally dropping Zemnian words Essek doesn’t know. Judging by Caleb’s grumbling at least some of them appear to be wrong. The protagonist, Stefan, seems like quite the bore. He does have a strong motivation, he supposes, to escape from the dreary life that awaits him in his arranged marriage. Besides that, and his general cold-hearted demeanour, he can’t discern any defining characteristics.

He finally reaches the part Caleb asked him about—Stefan leaving for the big city—when another character is introduced, presumably his love interest. He appears to be about as compelling as the protagonist, until— Essek snorts quietly. “Caleb Widogast,” he chides softly, “is this a love story about wizards?”

At first, he doesn’t answer and Essek briefly considers the option of Caleb wilfully ignoring him. Then, there’s a barely audible snore. When he glances down in surprise, the human is leaning against his shoulder, soundly asleep. He noisily chews on a strand of his hair, a bit of drool dripping onto Essek’s shoulder.

For a moment he can’t help but stare, a dopey smile on his face. He quickly arrives at the conclusion that something as disgusting as that has absolutely no business being as endearing as it is. But for some reason he doesn’t mind at all.

Moving carefully and slowly, in order not to disturb Caleb’s sleep, he puts down The Creation of Silver. It is getting rather late and he probably should begin his trance, if he wants to wake before Caleb's inevitable departure.

He leans back, wiggling a bit to find a comfortable position. He thinks he's doing a good job of not rousing Caleb until the human grunts quietly. Essek freezes, fearing he may have woken him, but instead of opening his eyes, Caleb just shifts closer to him, throwing an arm and a leg across his lap to hold him tight.

Essek looks down at his... friend with a fond expression. After a moment of consideration, he reaches down to brush the strand of hair behind his ear.

Sometimes, he feels like he can barely contain all the love he feels for this man within himself. One day, perhaps, he might even find the courage to tell him so.

Zemnian Translations:

Hausschuhe - slippers. In fact a Very Important German thing. Can't wear your normal shoes indoors, so you need special house shoes. Schlaf gut, Herr Thelyss. - Sleep well, Mister Thelyss. Gute Nacht, mein Schatz. - Good night, my darling. (lit. treasure) Schlaf wohl und g'sund, bis morgen früh's Kaffeele kommt. - Sleep well and sound until tomorrow morning the little coffee arrives. (My Caleb is Suebian now and I don't take criticism. I was writing this when I suddenly remembered this sentence my parents used to say to me and I thought if my sleep deprived brain remembers things like that, it would only be appropriate if Caleb's did too.)

#critical role #critical role fanfiction #shadowgast #essek thelyss #caleb widogast #the mighty nein #my writing #sgtober2021

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aomine-ryo · 3 years

Note

hi!! could i please request aomine + kise w a super insecure s/o but she doesn’t really say anything about it? but overtime the boys see how closed off she seems w everything ? aaa sorry if this doesn’t make sense

It made sense, don’t worry!! I hope you like this x

Scenario: Kise and Aomine with an insecure s/o

Kise

You loved dating Kise— you really did. As someone who had tendencies to worry about what others thought of you as well as be over-critical on yourself, being with him was quite refreshing. His bubbly personality and constant reassurance definitely helped you gain some self-love that you probably wouldn’t have been able to find without him.

There was one issue though. Kise was a rather popular person, being a model and all. For the first few months of your relationship, you managed to stay hidden by not going out in public with him too often. Of course, the two of you couldn’t always have dates at each other’s houses because there were so many places Kise wanted to take you, so you slowly began to go out together.

It didn’t take long for rumours to go around about your relationship, considering Kise’s popularity as a model was growing quite rapidly at this point. At first, you didn’t mind too much because they were just rumours and no one could confirm nor deny it per say. Furthermore, you felt quite happy knowing that Kise was all yours, and that you were in a relationship where you lifted each other up, so what others said about it wasn’t something you were concerned about.

However, that was until people started sneaking pictures of the two of you in public. You didn’t notice anything as it happened because you were caught up with Kise, but a few hours after you returned home, your social media was plastered with mentions as people tagged you in photos with your boyfriend. Looking at the surge of those photos made you begin to feel overwhelmed. You couldn’t help but read what people had to say about it, even though you knew you’d probably regret it.

At first, you didn’t really see anything too bad. Things like ‘Oh a new couple! How cute’ and ‘They’re adorable together, Kise-kun looks so happy’ seemed to be scattered amongst more surprised and sceptical comments that questioned the validity of the photos. And then you found the hate.

‘Yikes. Why is Kise dating someone like that?’, ‘No offense but Kise can do better’, ‘Did they pay Kise to date them or something? I never imagined him actually dating someone like that lol’ along with many other comments of that sort was soon all you saw. The nicer comments that were sprinkled here and there suddenly lost all its value as the meaner ones were all you seemed to look at.

You switched your phone off and put it aside as you began to feel your throat close up. As your brain began to question your self worth, a few tears managed to escape, even though you were trying so hard not to let it get to you. Maybe they were right? was all you could think about as you slowly but surely beat yourself up about it.

“Y/N-cchi! Are you free after school?” Kise chirped as you met up with him at recess a few days later.

“Probably. Why?”

“Let’s go on a date! There’s this boba café nearby that I think you’d really like,” he said with a smile, cheery as ever.

“I’m not sure. I think I’ll have to pass,” you said softly. You really didn’t want any more online attention than you were already getting.

“Why not?” he pouted.

You looked up at his frowning face and felt a wave of guilt. You made him sad. The comments were right. You don’t deserve him. “I just don’t feel like it,” you shrugged, pinching yourself.

“You’ll feel better when you try their drinks— trust me. It’ll be fun,” Kise said, giving you a smile that never failed to make your heart melt.

With a heavy sigh, you nodded slightly, “Alright I guess we can go then.”

Kise’s face lit up once again as his arms wrapped around you so tight that you felt like you couldn’t even breathe. “Yay, a date with Y/N-cchi!” he sang.

After school, the two of you walked to the cafe together. The weather was quite pleasant, and the bright yellow sun definitely improved your mood ever so slightly. As you walked, Kise took your hand in his like he usually would, but almost instantly, you pulled it away from him, gaining a look of confusion in response.

“What’s wrong, Y/N-cchi?” Kise asked, concerned.

“It’s nothing. My palms are just a bit sweaty, so I don’t think you’d wanna hold my hand,” you lied. You couldn’t help but be on edge in the case that someone was watching you.

“They felt fine to me, don’t worry about that,” Kise said, reaching for your hand once again.

You couldn’t really think of anything else to say to refuse without garnering any questions from him, so you reluctantly let him hold your hand, looking around anxiously. This keeping an eye out lasted for quite some time and Kise seemed to notice that your attention wasn’t fully directed towards him like it normally would be.

“Y/N-cchi, are you really sure everything is okay? You’ve barely even looked at me today,” Kise said as the two of you sipped on your drinks in the cafe.

“I’m fine,” you answered simply, over-correcting your actions by focusing on Kise and pretending everything was okay.

“Really? You seem really nervous,” Kise said.

“Ryouta, I’m fine, don’t worry,” you said, trying to sound as reassuring as possible.

“If there’s ever anything worrying you, you can tell me,” he said sincerely, placing his hand on top of yours and giving it a tight squeeze. “You know that, right?”

For a moment you really considered telling him what’s been bothering you, but you were afraid. You thought that it was really stupid of yourself to get affected so much by something like this and you didn’t want him to judge you for it— even though you were aware that he’d never do that.

“I know,” you nodded as you leaned back in your seat, filled with uncertainty and regret.

Once again, when you got back home, you were met with even more pictures of you and Kise from your date. You noticed that you had a frown on your face in pretty much all the photos. And of course the comments seemed to notice too.

‘lol his date doesn’teven look like they want to be there’, ‘that person looks annoying, why’s Kise dating someone like that’, ‘if I were with Kise I’d probably pay more attention to him than they are’.

Day by day, the comments increased. Kise’s agency managed to be able to keep the tabloids relatively silent about it. There were small articles here and there, but none of them were all too bad. However, there was no way they could control what was being said on the internet. Kise did call you up to remind you not to be too concerned about what people were saying. In fact, he urged you to do what he does and avoid the comment sections completely. But at that point, it was already too late. Looking at what others said about you online quickly became a daily thing, sending you down a spiral of self-destruction that only got worse.

Slowly, you began to avoid going outside and started making more and more excuses to not go out with Kise. You did still really like spending time with him, but the only time you were truly comfortable was when you were somewhere private with no other people around, and that wasn’t something Kise could do too often because he liked going outside.

He’d invite you to hang out with his friends every so often but you’d always refuse, saying that you were too busy. In all honesty, you hated lying to him but you felt like you had to.

One afternoon, you were laying down in bed after a tiring day of school and scrolling through comments yet again, when you heard the doorbell ring. It was Kise.

“Ryouta? What are you doing here?” you asked with a confused expression. “Don’t you have practice?”

“Yeah but you didn’t come to watch so I got worried,” Kise explained as he stepped into your house. “What happened, Y/N-cchi? You always watch my practice.”

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t feel too well,” you replied, your eyes fixed on the floor.

“What? Are you okay?” Kise asked, in a slightly panicked tone as his hand immediately reached for your forehead to check your temperature. “You seem fine.”

You responded with nothing but silence as you pursed your lips and continued to stare at the floor as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

Kise leaned down to try and meet your gaze. “Y/N-cchi, what’s really going on? You’ve been really distant lately. Have you gotten tired of me or something?” Kise asked, his usual cheery voice suddenly going all soft.

“No, it’s nothing like that,” you shook your head, surprised that he’d even think of something like that.

“Then what is it?”

“I don’t know,” you mumbled.

“Y/N-cchi, please tell me what’s going on so that I can help. I really hate seeing you like this. I can’t remember the last time I saw a genuine smile from you, which sucks because I really like your smile,” Kise said as he cupped your face in his hands and tilted your head up to look at him in the eye.

You felt tears well up in your eyes as you thought back to all the things you’ve read about yourself. Kise genuinely cared for you and you told yourself yet again that you really don’t deserve him. “I just don’t feel very confident going out so much with you,” you admitted softly.

“What? Why’s that?” Kise asked, amber eyes filled with concern and worry.

“Because there are people who sneak photos of us and post them online. And the comments are always just so... mean,” you said, your voice breaking as tears began to roll down your cheeks.

“Didn’t I tell you not to look at those? What did they say?”

“T-That I’m not good enough for you, and that I don’t deserve you,” you replied, sobbing like a baby at this point.

“And you’re going to believe what a bunch of random people say about you?” Kise said, which silenced you for a moment as you thought about it. “Listen Y/N-cchi, you’re beautiful and kind and one of the most caring people I’ve ever met. I’m the luckiest person in the world because I get to call you mine. If anything, I don’t deserve you— I mean it. No one could ever make me think that you’re not good enough because in my eyes you’re my everything,” Kise said, voice so soft and tender that it just filled your body with warmth.

“Are you sure?” you asked, unable to process the fact that this boy had so much love for you.

Kise pecked your lips and gave you a smile. “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”

“I’m sorry for not talking about it to you sooner and acting so aloof,” you said.

“It’s okay. We can take it slow and just spend more time alone, alright?” Kise said as he wiped your tears away with his thumb.

“Yeah, that would be nice,” you sniffled.

“I hope you can see yourself the way I see you someday. You’re really amazing, Y/N-cchi. I love you so goddamn much,” he said, honey eyes full of care and sincerity as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sound of those words that made your heart skip a beat, “I love you too, Ryouta.”

Kise’s face brightened up again as he too began to grin, “There’s that gorgeous smile— I’ve missed it.”

Aomine

Aomine was aware that you had times where you felt insecure every now and then and of course, he did his best to minimise it and check up on you to make sure you were alright. He seemed to be doing a fairly good job as well because your confidence was rather stable for a while.

One of the main reasons he’d always check up on you was because he was really slow on picking up when you did feel insecure. You were the kind of person to sit quietly and deal with your issues by yourself rather than reach out for help so that made it slightly difficult for him sometimes. Along with being slow at noticing, Aomine was often one to take things for granted. So when you seemed to be all happy and confident, he’d slowly begin checking up on you lesser and lesser.

You never realised how much you valued the attention from him though until it began to reduce. You seemed to have become emotionally dependent on Aomine and by the time you realised it, it was a little too late.

Slowly, as days went by, you began to feel more and more unsure about yourself as Aomine got busier. The Winter Cup was just around the corner and he was caught up with practices that he didn’t have as much time to tend to you. Nevertheless, he still went out of his way to call you up or visit you during his free time, though that time was never enough for you to open up about how you felt.

You weren’t sure when it happened, but before you knew it, your mind was clouded with dark thoughts that criticised your appearance and abilities. You’d often stand in front of the mirror and pick yourself apart piece by piece, feeling nothing but hatred towards the person that looked back at you.

You stopped enjoying the things you’d normally enjoy too. Things like art and reading became a burden as every time you’d pick up a pencil, you’d hate every stroke you made, and you couldn’t immerse yourself into books anymore because your mind would only just wander off into thoughts about the things you wanted to escape.

“Hey babe, how are you doing today?” Aomine said when you picked up his phone call one evening.

“I’m okay, are you heading back from practice?” you asked, able to hear a faint sound of footsteps in the background.

“Yep. I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” he sighed.

“Didn’t you see me in school today?” You pointed out.

“Barely. Besides, that was hours ago. I miss you,” Aomine said.

“I miss you too,” you replied, hearing his voice somehow put a small smile on your face.

“Can we FaceTime instead? I want to see you,” he requested, which immediately wiped the smile away.

“I don’t think so,” you said, shaking your head even though he couldn’t see you.

“Why not? You can’t just keep that pretty face to yourself, you know. It’s not fair.”

“I look anything but pretty, trust me,” you said, playing it off as a joke even though you actually meant it.

“Oh come on. Please?”

“I said no, Daiki,” you snapped suddenly, shocking both you and Aomine. You definitely didn’t want to put yourself on video, however you didn’t realise how defensive you were about it until that point. But you stood by it.

There was a moment of silence as you took in what just happened before Aomine let out a heavy sigh. “Alright. It’s fine then I guess,” he said. There was definitely a change in his tone after that. What was previously an energetic and happy sound, was now more lukewarm and mellow, and you couldn’t help but feel responsible for it.

And now there was one more thing for you to beat yourself up over.

Aomine finally had a few days off of practice, and of course, the first thing he wanted to do was spend time with you. So he called you up.

“Hey, do you want to go out for a movie or something? I finally have some free time,” Aomine asked you.

“Um, I’m not sure. I don’t think I feel too well,” you said. The last place you wanted to go was outside. You had to walk to the convenience store the other day and you absolutely hated it because you felt like everyone was judging you in some way or the other, even though in reality, no one really looked at you for more than a second.

“Really? Is everything okay? Do you need to go to the doctor?”

“No, it’s nothing like that. I guess I’m just not feeling up to it,” you said.

“Then how about we do something tomorrow?” he suggested.

“I don’t know...”

“Y/N, I barely get to see you anymore. Are you sure you’re not avoiding me or something?” Aomine questioned, being more straightforward not to mask his hurt.

“I’m not.”

“Then why don’t you want to spend time with me?”

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, feeling overwhelmed at the pressure you felt to not make him hate you even more.

“Y/N, that’s not an answer,” he sighed.

You responded with silence as you finally decided to shut yourself up before you made things worse. With one more disappointed sigh, Aomine ended the call. The sound of the ringing finally caused you to break down into tears. You finally reached rock bottom. You chased away the one person who actually cared about you. He probably hates you now too.

Meanwhile, Aomine was striding towards your house after ending the phone call. It may have been a bit cruel to just cut it without saying a goodbye, but the frustration just took over. You weren’t even responding at that point so Aomine just decided to see what was wrong for himself. It took you a while to answer the door, and when you did, there was a forced smile on your tear stained face as you let him in.

“I’m sorry for cutting the call short. What’s wrong, Y/N?” he asked.

No response. You just stared at the floor.

Aomine’s hand reached for your cheek, “Hey, were you crying—“

He stopped when you flinched and shifted away before he could lay a finger on you. “I’m fine, it’s nothing,” you said coldly, wrapping your arms around your body and clenching your shirt.

“You won’t even let me touch you. Did I do something wrong?” Aomine asked, trying to think about whether or not he’d done anything to upset you recently. However, nothing added up as he barely saw you— there was no way he could’ve done anything.

You hated every moment of this. All you could think about was how you probably looked awful at that moment. He came so suddenly that you didn’t get a chance to fix yourself. Furthermore, you’d just been crying so you probably looked like a train wreck. He is definitely thinking about how bad I look, you thought. You didn’t want to find out though, so you just avoided all eye contact.

“You’re really not going to even talk to me?” Aomine asked, and as he expected there was yet again no response. He sighed. “Fine then. I’m not leaving your house until you tell me what’s going on.”

You watched as Aomine walked further into your house. He went straight into the kitchen, and you, not knowing what else to do, trailed behind him as he began to check the cabinets.

“I’m starving. Have you eaten lunch yet?” Aomine turned his head to look over at you. You shook your head. “Alright. I’ve been learning how to cook. I’m not guaranteeing a gourmet meal, but it should be edible... hopefully,” he said, beginning to pull out different ingredients.

“I’m not hungry,” you mumbled.

“Did you eat breakfast?”

“No.”

“Yeah I thought so. I’m making us some food,” he said dismissively.

You knew Aomine was stubborn so you didn’t try to argue any more because he’d make it no matter what you say.

You watched him walk up and down the kitchen and do his thing in silence. You really weren’t sure what he was trying to make. There were so many different ingredients that just didn’t make sense, but you just stood and watched.

About half an hour went by without a word from either of you. Aomine began humming a song as he stood over the stove, which strangely made you feel more at ease. As he stirred the pot, he seemed so harmless that you began to finally calm down and build up the courage to tell him.

Almost as if he could read your mind, he finally spoke up, “You ready to say something to me yet?

Another moment of silence passed by as you bit your lip in hesitation. Aomine was just about to let out another disappointed sigh when you muttered, “I’ve just been feeling really insecure lately.”

Hearing your voice caught Aomine off guard for a moment. Even though he was the one who asked you to speak up, a part of him was expecting nothing to happen yet again. He switched off the stove, wiped his hands and turned to face you, leaning against the counter as he did so. “Insecure? About what?”

“I don’t know. I just hate how I look. And everything I do feels so inadequate. Plus I haven’t gotten to see you in a while so I got the feeling that you probably hate me by now. I’m acting like a brat now, after all,” you said, voice soft but the pain was evident.

“I want to start off by saying, I could never hate you. You’re always on my mind Y/N. Why do you think I like to call you so much? Actually, why do you think I came all the way over here? It’s because I care about you,” he said.

You finally looked up at him again. He looked as gorgeous as ever. And this dark blue eyes were gentle and caring. Maybe you were overthinking it.

Aomine took you getting your eyes off the floor as a good sign. So he took a few steps closer to you. “And I get how you feel about the other stuff. I feel like that too sometimes. But honestly, I find you absolutely beautiful. I really don’t know how much weight my words have, but that’s what I think. You’re also so smart and talented, I really just think you need to be a little kinder to yourself,” he continued.

And just like that, the waterworks went for round two. You didn’t know how much you needed to hear those words until right then.

Aomine felt his heart ache at the sight of you in this state. He hesitated for a moment because of what happened when he tried to touch you earlier, but he soon wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tight. Almost immediately, you too wrapped your arms around him and sobbed into his chest, the smell of his cologne making you feel safe at your most vulnerable moment.

“I’m so sorry for being so distant. I’ve been so awful. I should’ve talked to you,” you cried. It was a bit difficult for Aomine to understand what you were saying through the tears but he processed it a few moments later as his fingers brushed through your hair reassuringly.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he said softly as he pulled away and held your shoulders so he could look you in the eye. “I’m just glad you told me.”

You nodded as you tried to stop yourself from crying.

“Here,” Aomine said, as he pulled off the black dog tag necklace he wore and put it around your neck. “It’s not much, but think of it as a reminder that you’re always amazing in my eyes.”

You felt your heart burst as you became teary-eyed again, except this time it was out of gratefulness.

“...is that too lame?” Aomine asked as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly when you didn’t say anything.

You immediately shook your head. “No, it means a lot. I-I love you.”

A smile spread across Aomine’s face. “I love you too, Y/N,” he said. “Alright, I’m gonna finish making our food, okay?”

“Sure,” you nodded as you watched him return to the stove. “But, can I ask what exactly you’re trying to make?”

“Um, ramen?”

You began to giggle, “Babe, I don’t think you should put tomato sauce in ramen.”

“Oh, right... I knew that.”

#kuroko no basket #kurokos basketball #kuroko no basket x reader #aomine daiki #aomine daiki x reader #kise ryouta #kise ryota x reader #knb #generation of miracles

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onyxylophone · 2 years

Text

late night fic posting for @bakedbananners mcga/steven universe gem AU! this one is based off gem heist and the arc about pink diamond's zoo

"I Don't Think This Zoo is AZA-Certified"

"The human zoo…I can't believe it still exists."

"Amir's gotta be in there. We just have to find him, and bust him out."

"This. Is. Humiliating." Speridot gritted his teeth as he listened to the sound of his own footsteps falling on the polished marble floor.

Lionskin Jasper shot him a look over one shoulder: Are you out of your mind? Stop talking! She tugged sharply on the wire she was holding, making Speri lurch forward, skipping a step as the restraint around his wrists tightened briefly.

Citrine, who was currently walking behind Speridot, leaned over the latter's shoulder to whisper to him, "Stay cool, dude. We just have to keep playing our parts until we find out where they've got Amir."

Speridot glared hard enough at him that Labradorite winced, too. "I think I have every right to complain!" He shot back, "I don't see you offering yourself as the prisoner!" He held up his bound wrists, "Not to mention this is my fucking weapon!"

Citrine shrugged, "You do make a pretty convincing prisoner," He purposefully raised his voice to an obnoxious level, adding just a little too much dramatic emotion, "THOUGHT YOU COULD GET AWAY WITH IT, DIDN'T YOU, ROGUE SCUM?"

He saw Lionskin's shoulders stiffen, which was a little rude, considering he was pretty sure he was doing a great impression of their first time meeting each other.

Speridot rolled his eyes, lulling his head backwards as he dryly repeated his lines, "Oh, no! You got me!" He hissed as Lionskin tugged on the garrotte again and Citrine kicked the back of his ankle, "I mean! DIE, YOU HOMEWORLD-LOVING SONS-OF-BITCHES. IF I HAD MY HANDS, I'D SHATTER YOU BOTH!"

This plan was never going to fucking work. The three Crystal Gems followed the agate giving them a tour of the facility in relative silence after that, all of them taking care to memorize which door led to the exact place they needed to go.

"Um, miss?" Lionskin Jasper spoke up as they moved further down the hall, "You said the human containment was back that way-"

"Yes, yes! The amethysts will fetch the, ah…sickly human for you. We really only open that door for emergencies. The humans here can be a little…touchy," The agate explained, "Besides! I thought perhaps Yellow Diamond would appreciate an in-person update on his project! So thoughtful of you to bring him along, Lionskin Jasper. And I'm sure his excellency will know what to do with…that."

Lionskin Jasper froze, causing Speridot to run into her, and then Citrine to crash into him. "Yellow Diamond is…here?"

It was like the whole galaxy suddenly stopped revolving all at once.

That lousy, no-good, incredibly handsome heartbreaker! I'll tell him a thing or two! Citrine, lemme out-!

Citrine clenched his hands, feeling White Labradorite's anger and sadness and rejection. He tried to be comforting, but he didn't really know what to say. What kind of a falling out does a guy have to have to break-up with his sword? Not to mention the whole…bonding-him-to-Citrine-for-life deal. That was pretty fucked up, too.

"Well, yes! You almost missed him, too. Wouldn't that have been unfortunate?"

"...Yes," Lionskin Jasper said, her voice shaking, "Very unfortunate."

They finally stopped at a massive set of double doors located at the end of the hallway. The agate began using the scanner system. Citrine looked over, meeting Speridot's eyes. He looked terrified.

When they walked in, all three gems kept their eyes on the ground. It was taking every ounce of self control that Citrine had to stop White Labradorite from pushing him back into their shared subconscious. He was so busy focusing that he didn't notice something was wrong until he nearly collided with Speridot for the second time.

Speri leaned backwards, barely breathing as he whispered, "Citrine…who is that-?"

Citrine's head shot up. A gem he'd never seen before was sitting on a pile of oversized cushions in the center of the enormous room. She was tall enough that it was hard for Citrine's brain to process that she was actually alive, and not a glittering statue. Her color was a rich champagne. Her cut was flawless. Her gem was laid in the dip of her throat like a jeweled necklace.

That's not Yellow Diamond! That's-

"What is the meaning of this?"

Her voice shook the floor under their feet. Citrine watched Speridot shuffle slightly, trying to brace himself in an effort to not fall over.

"Your…your radiance," Lionskin Jasper stumbled over her words. She scrambled to form the Diamond symbol with her arms, which quickly prompted Citrine to do the same. "My apologies. I was told Yellow Diamond was here."

The unfamiliar Diamond ran her fingers through her own hair repeatedly, "And what business does a jasper have with Yellow Diamond?"

"A progress report, your grace. I've brought with me his repaired Citrine," She motioned Citrine to step forward and show his unusual gem, "And a rogue from the Earth colony. For reassignment."

Lionskin whispered an apology before tugging on Speridot's garrotte, yanking him into view. He froze up instantly. His bound fists began to tremble. Citrine reached out, subtly placing his hand against his friend's back. He watched some of the tension leave Speri's shoulders.

"Ah," the Diamond said, "A Watermelon Tourmaline. Unfuse at once, both of you. Looking at you is making me nauseous."

Shit, Citrine thought. He pressed his fingertips into Speridot's back, silently begging: Please don't. Not again.

"I'm not a fusion," Speridot spat, "I'm a Speridot."

The Diamond lady laughed, gracefully covering her mouth with the back of her hand, "It calls itself a Speridot? There's no such thing!"

"Call me it one more time!" Speridot snarled, lunging forward only for Citrine to grab the length of his garrotte with two hands and hold him back, "Just try!"

Lionskin stepped in front, partially obstructing Speridot from view, "My Diamond, I also bring bad news regarding the human zoo."

The Diamond sat up straighter, slowly lowering her fingers from where she'd been plaiting a braid into her hair, "What kind of bad news?"

Lionskin Jasper took a deep breath, "Earlier today, a human was taken from the Earth colony for zoo placement. According to my knowledge of Earth's creatures, this human has a very…infectious disease. If he stays with the humans in the zoo, he could potentially spread the illness to all specimens."

"Oh!" The Diamond clasped her hands together, "I brought that human here myself, earlier this sun cycle. As a gift for Yellow Diamond. He was so nice, I never would have expected him to be diseased. I will arrange for the amethyst guards to dispose of him at once."

"No!" All three Crystal Gems shouted at once. Their faces were matching expressions of horror.

Lionskin Jasper recovered first, flashing the symbol a second time, "Forgive me, your radiance. Allow me to propose a solution: I have orders to deliver this rogue to Homeworld. I can simply take the human with me, and dispose of him personally during the trip. It would save you the trouble, My Diamond."

The Diamond nodded slowly, "Very well. You and the Citrine may go collect this sick human. The rogue will wait here with me."

Speridot's garrotte dematerialized. Citrine's fingers subconsciously dug into the fabric covering his friend's back. Lionskin Jasper looked back at Speri, the hesitation clear on her face.

Speridot, however, was obviously trying his best to stay calm. He took in a deep breath and held it. The shaking stopped. His eyes burned with quiet fury as he let his arms smoothly form the symbol of the Diamond Authority. It looked natural. It made Citrine feel sick.

"...Yes, My Diamond."

Half an hour later, Lionskin Jasper was hurrying down the same hallway as before. She glanced back over her shoulder. Citrine was jogging about two feet behind her. He was holding Amir's hand, pulling him along. Citrine's body was still faintly glowing.

Apparently getting grabbed by a giant gem woman and thrown inside a human zoo in outer space had a tendency to cause your brain to start breaking. At least Citrine found out his healing abilities worked on gems and humans.

"Citrine!" Lionskin called to her teammate, "I'll take Amir back to the ship. You get Speridot!"

After handing over their rescued friend, Citrine found himself staring up at the oversized double doors. He dreaded what might be waiting on the other side. He could imagine dozens of things that Speridot could say or do within thirty minutes that would end in the mixed gem getting shattered by an angry Diamond.

"-Look, babe, I don't care how perfect his cut is. Don't let him fracture your facets. You're a Diamond for gem's sake, not some flashy Beryl-"

Citrine opened one of the doors and slipped inside, watching the sight in front of him with confusion. Speridot was lying on his back, lounging in the outstretched palm of one of the Diamond's hands with his head tipped backwards as he talked to her. He sat up when he noticed who came in the room.

"Heya, Citrine!" Speridot said with a grin, "Guess who just got us a free ride home?"

#this is my first time writing sif and it's probably absolutely terrible lol #alex fierro #magnus chase #fierrochase #mcga #steven universe #my post #my writing #okay to rb

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